Chapter 68 Jean-Paul
Chapter 68
Jean-Paul
Glitter. Again.
He’s sweeping little pink and purple stars into colorful piles. After he and Renée slipped away, they could hear the group late into the morning hours. They’d gone to bed drunk on wine, giggly on gossip. It had moved him to watch Leo express himself as he had. To see the pair face their demons.
When guests came and went, they left pieces of themselves in the porous marble or in the cracks in the hardwood floors. Cassidy had left them with something they couldn’t quantify, something he and Renée were still wading through. But watching his daughter— his daughter , he likes repeating to himself—come out of her shell to comfort Penny has made it clear that this particular group of guests has formed an inexplicable bond. An extraordinary bond.
He reaches for the dustpan and sweeps the memories into the metal. The inn has provided so much. All the revelations, secrets, and truths circling like stars. The choices made, the doors that swung open. He knows these experiences should grant him the grace to let Vis Ta Vie go. They have compiled enough moments for a lifetime, and now they have Rosalie.
Before he and Renée had drifted to sleep, they talked late into the night. He could sense her lingering doubt. She vacillated, wanting to fight and scold him for deceiving her before changing her mind. Jean-Paul wasn’t a fighter. He let her argue, and when she broke down and cried, he pulled her toward him, and she let him squeeze away the pain.
There were many unanswered questions. And maybe that was the crux of life. Sometimes there weren’t any answers, and you just had to figure out a way to move forward. He wondered what she was thinking as she lay beside him. Was she imagining what their lives might have been like had they had a child back then? Maybe. But this was the path they were meant to take. Rosalie was meant to be theirs when they were ready for her.
Jean-Paul made it crystal clear, as clear as Rosalie’s eyes, that he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life. Needed her to be a part of their life. He called it a privilege. As the conversation deepened, Renée’s upset waned.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me ... but ... is it possible I already love her?”
And the last lock slid open. “I think I just might love her too,” Renée said.
And even though they knew what they had to do, they weren’t entirely certain until they woke up in each other’s arms. She lay against his chest, her fingers tracing his skin. “A man loving a child ... there’s nothing more beautiful. Except a man who fights for his child.”
After finishing up the sweeping and wiping and straightening, the kitchen looks almost returned to her pristine condition. It’s an optical illusion, because each week she lives a different story. She’s never the same, touched by many different fingerprints. Today they’ll begin a new chapter.
An hour later at the hospital, he and Renée enter Cassidy Banks’s room while Rosalie waits her turn down the hall.
“Cassidy,” he begins. “You’re looking well.”
“My apologies for the mess I’ve caused. The two of you have been so kind to Rosalie. That means a lot.”
“We’re glad you’re on the upswing,” Jean-Paul says. “You scared us there for a bit.”
Her eyes trail downward, refusing to meet theirs. “My daughter has some imagination ... She thought she was your daughter.”
He hadn’t been entirely sure how they’d start the conversation, but Cassidy led them right in.
“It wasn’t a one-night stand ... I’m sure she told you. I went through a registry, and believe me, I made sure to pick ... no offense ... Chef’s handsome and all, but Addison Fitch, he’s the donor.”
They let her go on.
“Perfect pedigree . . . no known medical history . . . I checked.”
It would almost be amusing if the truth weren’t going to be such a mind blow. “Cassidy,” Jean-Paul interrupts.
She’s rambling on about the baby picture, Addison Fitch’s physique. But when she hears her name and feels their stares, she stops talking.
“Addison Fitch isn’t her father,” he continues. “Unless you’re prepared to address me as Mr. Fitch.”
Cassidy pretends not to hear. “It’s such a cute name.”
“Cassidy, I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m just going to give it a try. I donated to Biogenics. It’s sweet you named the donor, but the donor was me. I’m Rosalie’s biological father.”
Cassidy’s face drains of color. “What did you just say?”
“I’m donor #051738. And if you check your files, you’ll see you chose me.”
“That’s impossible. I saw a picture. Definitely wasn’t you.”
“It’s him,” Renée says. “He was quite the looker.” She gazes at him. “Still is, in my opinion.”
“I’d love it if we could figure out a way to coexist, because as much as you probably wanted Rosalie when you searched for a donor, that’s how much I’d like to be part of her life now.” He hears the crack in his voice, and Renée grabs his hand. “Your daughter is a brilliant, thoughtful young woman.”
The tubes and lights blink and dance around Cassidy, but they can’t protect her from the truth. They can’t change the fate that’s brought them together. She sinks farther inside the bed until the blanket swallows her up. “I don’t believe you. You can’t come in here and tell me a reputable company screwed up my order. I selected ... someone else. A gorgeous hunk ...”
“Yes, and that was me.”
She’s shaking her head. “No. No. No. That’s like substituting green goddess dressing for ...”—she flings a hand in his direction—“French. No one likes French dressing.”
Jean-Paul can’t believe his ears. “It’s a DNA match at fifty percent, Cassidy. It doesn’t get more precise than that.”
He’s losing patience.
“Look,” he says, “I think we all agree that Rosalie’s best interests are paramount to everything else.”
Cassidy begins to register something. “Are you trying to take her away from me? You can’t do that!”
“We’re not going to take her away from you,” he says, “but we’d like to have some sort of plan that’s beneficial for all of us. Respectfully, we have one request.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
“You scared the life out of that girl. You need to do better. That’s why you should get help.”
She rolls her eyes at them.
“Check into a facility; there’s actually one not far from the inn. You need to get your mind and your health under control. Renée and I will do whatever we can to help Rosalie and be there for her, but if you love your daughter, you can’t keep putting her through this. It’s not fair to her. She’s a teenager. She needs her mother.”
Cassidy’s limited in her movement due to the tubes connecting her to the IV, but she manages a weak smile. “I’ll think about it.”
Jean-Paul nods. “Good. I think it’ll benefit Rosalie long-term. In the meantime, she can stay with us. We can get to know her.”
“I said I’ll think about it,” Cassidy says, but she’s staring at them with defeat in her eyes.