Chapter Twenty-Six
Marcel
Three full days of planning, negotiating, signing, shouting—it’s all a blur.
But the new apartment complex near Edgewater, just one city over from Eaton is full.
I own the building outright, so the tenants currently are not paying anything, but affordable rents will be negotiated.
The heat is on. The fridges are stocked.
I did it. The sense of accomplishment is overwhelming and so gratifying, it's addictive. I’ve invited Juliet and Gran to Christmas, an impulsive move I might regret because all I want to do is sleep however, with one day left, I can muscle through.
Tonight is the Christmas Eve Eve sermon at Gran’s church and while I am not a church goer, I have agreed to attend.
The last time I stepped foot in the place I’d tasked myself with bringing Christmas to the needy.
Today, accomplishing that goal in miraculous time, feels monumental and I am floating as I walk into the church with Gran on one side and Juliet dressed in the most beautiful ruby red dress that hugs her gorgeous curves, on the other.
I’m wearing a black suit with a red tie, matching Juliet’s dress.
“You have done so much for this community, Marcel,” Juliet reminds me as we walk into the soft rumble of voices familiar with each other and peppered with excitement for the upcoming holiday.
“It feels good,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“At least you don’t have to wear a Santa suit this time,” Gran makes a very frank and astute comment, foregoing the sentiment.
“Yes, that was the worst part, not the days of negotiation, but that itchy, hot suit.” We laugh quietly as Gran leads us to our seats at the front of the church.
Juliet and I look at each other, I’m sure we’d much rather be near the back, but this is Gran’s show, so we follow her lead.
We take our seats. I notice some of the families that I have been working with over the last few days.
The goal is to have them move into apartments with brand new furniture and an opportunity to reinvent themselves.
Moving out of their homes will take more than a day, but they’ll get their keys to the apartments tomorrow on Christmas Eve.
I know that there were a lot of big emotions around this gift because parents and children alike have been in tears.
Most have been tears of joy because a gift like this is overwhelming.
They don't owe me anything. I’m a billionaire several times over and this barely puts a dent in my bank account.
Essentially, I used the interest on one bank account to pay for the building and the furnishings for each apartment.
I worked with a popular furniture supplier and each family was allowed to pick out rooms of furniture: including living rooms and bedrooms. They also selected brand new kitchen appliances and all the essentials for dining and cooking.
I also made sure the other necessities such as the internet, water, sewage and trash, were covered.
The fridges are full and so is my heart.
The sermon retells the story of Christmas and the birth of Jesus.
The choir sings incredibly beautiful Christmas carols and there is a sense of community, love, and hope among everyone in the congregation.
I can't help but feel joyous even though I don't usually connect to any part of Christmas, really.
There is an incredible amount of power in the unity of a community.
At the end of his sermon, the minister makes announcements and the last announcement throws me off guard.
“Everyone, I’d like to offer gratitude and thanks to one new member of our community.
He has shown incredible love and kindness and I’d like this congregation to recognize Marcel Dubois.
He and his company Dubois Holdings, are not only going to be giving Eaton a facelift and a chance at building up our businesses, but he has offered life changing gifts to those members of our church most in need.
” A round of applause blooms through the space.
“So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for your service.” The applause swells and I can’t help but feel accomplished and grateful to the two women sitting on either side of me.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I say as I take each of their hands.
Juliet puts her head on my shoulder and Gran smiles. “You’re not a very good Grinch.” And that is the extent of her praise.
The next morning, we are off to New York. I arranged a private jet in the morning so we can make it to Christmas Eve dinner with my friends. I am hoping to introduce Juliet as my girlfriend and eventual wife.
Gran's mouth jaw hits the floor when she enters the jet. I wanted the experience to be life-altering so I arranged for gingerbread cookies and hot mulled wine upon arrival with cider for Juliet, as well as breakfast offerings both meaty and vegan.
“Ah would you look at all of this,” Gran says in amazement.
The trip isn't very long but I want to spoil and lavish Gran and Juliet as much as I can.
“This is amazing, Marcel. Thank you.” Juliet kisses my cheek and I feel the warmth radiating off of her with pride and joy.
Her reactions to my choices have been so motivating. She's gracious and complimentary but not gushing. Juliet is simply the most beautiful human being I've ever met and Gran is growing on me too.
The flight is lovely but what I enjoy most is the moment we arrive at my home and I open the door to my mansion and see the look on Gran’s face.
“Good lord, Marcel,” Gran says, her sharp little eyes flicking over me. “You live here alone?”
“When I’m here,” I offer an awkward grin. “I do have staff, but I’ve given them off for the holiday.”
Juliet studies me, and I can feel her gaze peel back the layers. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. I can’t hide from her anymore.
“Here, let me show you to your room.” I take Gran’s bag. I want to really dig my way into this woman’s good graces, she’s a tough nut to crack.
“Well, you have plenty of space for a whole pack of kids,” she says and my heart constricts, yikes.
“Let’s just start with one.” I dance around the touchy subject and I feel Juliet’s emotions shift.
“Do you want us to help you decorate for Christmas?” Gran asks as she looks around my stark home.
“That would be lovely but we have a dinner party to attend in an hour, so we’ll improvise.” My heart races because I have no idea where I’m going to find Christmas decorations on Christmas Eve.
I call Beckett, at a loss. He decides we will forgo the fancy dinner, cancel the babysitters, and bring the chaos to my house for a decorating party.
I feel like I might have a brain aneurysm.
I am not at all accustomed to children and I’m about to have five of those little buggers in my house all under six years old.
Beckett’s wife, Scarlett who birthed four of the five children attending, is arranging everything.
I need to go dig a few things out of storage.
I’m pretty sure there is a tree down there somewhere.
And maybe some tarps so I can save my furniture from the little monsters.
I’m shell shocked. I don’t think I can breathe.
“I hate kids.”
I don’t mean to say it out loud and Juliet goes a little white.
“Why am I doing this?”
“Gran bullied you into Christmas decorations,” she says softly. “Let me go talk to her. I think the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction.” She’s about to go get Gran and I stop her.
“No. I can do this. We’re going to have one and I have to get used to being around them.
I remember the look in one little boy’s eyes when he asked me for a teddy bear.
That was all he wanted. He had a house and they weren’t on the list of families that needed alternative housing.
All he wanted was a stuffed bear. I bought one for him at the drug store on the way home from dropping you and Gran off yesterday.
I gave it to him before the church service when the other kids got their gifts. ”
“I wondered where the bear came from.” She gives me a sweet smile.
“The look on that little boy’s face when he got his bear … I wondered, would our child ever look at me like that?”
“I’m sure he will,” she says with encouragement.
I rake a hand through my hair, laugh without humor.
Juliet’s hand flutters against her stomach instinctively, and I feel something crack inside me. I want to be enough for them but every instinct screams I’ll ruin them.
So I tell her. “I don’t know if I can be a father. I don’t know if I deserve to be.”
Her eyes soften, but her gaze is steady. “Then don’t be. Not until you’re ready. This baby will have me and Gran, no matter what.”
I know her response is meant to be reassuring, but it guts me. I want to say I’ll try. I want to promise her the world. For the first time in my life, I want more than money, more than power. I want her and our family, God help me, I’m terrified.
I drop my gaze to her belly and place my hand on it. Juliet’s hand, small and warm, slides over mine. I glance up, and she’s watching me with those eyes that undo me every damn time. No judgment. No disgust. Just compassion. The very thing I’ve spent a lifetime refusing.
“You’re not a bad man, Marcel,” she whispers. “You’re just scared and that’s okay to admit. I’m scared too.”
I huff a bitter laugh. “Scared men make terrible fathers.”
Her fingers squeeze mine. “Scared men make honest ones.”
It’s such a simple thing, but it lands like a hammer.
No contracts, no threats, no demands, just her quiet certainty.
She believes in me. Me, the man who runs people’s emotions over.
I want to tell her she’s wrong and warn her to get away from me.
I should advise her not to stake her future on the enemy.
But instead, I cover her hand with my other one, caging it between mine like I’m afraid she’ll slip away.
“You make it sound so easy,” I murmur.
“It won’t be easy,” she admits, tilting her head. “But it’ll be worth it.”
And in that moment I feel something loosen in my chest. She’s still here, she hasn’t asked for a dime of my money, so it’s not because I’m a billionaire.
She’s not conniving and trying to find ways to trap me—she says she wants a year before we decide to marry.
I lean forward and kiss her lips then whisper the only thing I can manage without falling apart completely.
“Don’t give up on me.”
This brings tears to her eyes and she takes my face into her palms and her smile brightens the room.
“I won’t.”