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Jacque didn't look forward to much.
Sure, his line of work was never boring and being able to spend the fruits of his labor on luxuries such as fine wine and fancier knives was nice, but he'd never gotten excited for it. Or for anything, for that matter. Life was just that mundane to him nowadays.
But as he stood by the wall-mounted phone, he couldn't help but feel impatiently eager for the receiver to pick up. As soon as he'd finished reading her letter, he'd rushed to the phone to call her. She didn't usually sign her letters off with a ‘call when you get this,’ leading him to believe that something serious needed to be discussed.
He ran a hand through his grey-speckled black hair, not needing to worry about his balaclava since he was alone in his house. His big, secluded house that was too far from Boston for his liking. He debating lighting a cigarette, but decided against it. He wanted his mouth and hands to be completely free while talking to her.
The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a gentle click was heard, then…
“Hello?”
Her voice. Her beautiful, velvety voice that sounded like how sunshine felt. Jacque almost melted upon hearing it.
“Bonjour, mon amour.”
“Hey there, hun!” Her voice somehow brightened and Jacque could hear the smile that was on her face.
“Ah, it is so good to hear your voice, mon bien-aimé. How are you?”
“Doin' fine, doin' fine. How 'bout you, still kickin' ass and takin' names?”
Jacque chuckled. “I am trying my best to, yes.”
“Good, good.”
There was silence for a moment, an unspoken question hanging in the air.
“So… I wanted to talk to you about Juliette.” She finally said.
“Ah, how is she? Her twelfth birthday party was just this past week, no?”
“Yeah, it went great. She loved the baseball bat you sent her, I wish I coulda told her who it was really from.”
Jacque sighed. “Mon cher-.”
“I know, I know. You don't wanna risk anything. I just wish she knew you were still here, even though you're not here.”
He smiled sadly. “I know. Perhaps one day, I will make my presence known to her, but right now this is the safest option.”
Silence again. “So, what is it that you wanted to tell me about, exactly?”
There was a moment of hesitation over the phone. Then…
“Julie is a boy.” She finally said.
Jacque became confused, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“She- sorry, he told me yesterday. He doesn't like being a girl at all. I think it's called… oh, what was it, something-sexual…”
“Transsexual?”
“That! Yes, thank you. Sh- he's a transsexual.”
Jacque didn't know what to say. His daughter, his beloved petite fille whom he hadn't been able to speak to in years, wanted to be a boy.
This… certainly wasn't something he'd predicted would happen.
“How do you feel about this?” He decided to ask. She hesitated.
“Well, I'm confused.” She started. “I don't really understand how you can just… flip genders like that. I've only ever heard talk about it on television, mostly people making fun of it. To be completely honest, I didn't think it was real.”
She hesitated again.
“But?”
“But… Jacque, she- he looked so happy when he told me.”
Jacque could hear the love and warmth in her voice, even through the graininess of the phone. “He had this gleam in his eye that I'd never seen before. And when he spoke… he's always been a chatterbox, but this time it was like he thought about every word before he said it. Like he really, really meant it. Not that he's never not meant anything he's said before, of course, but… I don't know, there was just something there that felt more authentic. More real. Like she - fuck, he - wasn't just spitballin' like he normal does.”
She sighed. “I'm still very, very confused. But if it makes Julie that happy, then… I'm happy for him.”
Jacque hummed. His grip on the phone tightened as he processed her words.
“What about you?” She asked.
“What about me?”
“What do you think?”
Now it was Jacque's turn to hesitate. He'd met transsexual people before. Even had to disguise as one for a mission once. To him, they were, for lack of a better word, odd. Much like his beloved, he didn't understand how something like that could happen to someone. You were born with specific anatomy for a reason, you couldn't just forfeit that because you were unhappy. Yet people all over the world did it anyway. It was strange. But so long as they didn't interfere with his work, Jacque wouldn't hate them.
He'd never expected his daughter to be one of them, though.
“…How long has she been thinking like this?” He finally asked.
“About a year.” She said. “Says he's thought about it more than anything else he's ever thought about. His words, not mine.”
Jacque smirked lightly at the last sentence. In their letters and phone calls, she would mention that Julie wasn't very studious. Lovable and sweet, but never very good in school. She tended to think more with her body than her brain, the only subjects she excelled in being gym and art class. For her to say that to her mother meant something.
“You said she was happy?”
“Yes. Happier than I'd ever seen him. Scared, too, but the joy just shone outta him once the words left his mouth. It was like a huge weight off his shoulders, I could tell.”
Jacque nodded. Thought. Processed.
“Well… J'ai toujours voulu un fils un jour.”
He could practically hear her smile over the phone. “I know… you were talkin' about it when I first got pregnant, remember? You were so confident that it would be a boy. An' I said ‘no way!’”
She laughed. “I guess you were right, after all.”
“Oui. I guess so.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Not an awkward silence, but a comfortable one. Like both parties were processing each other's words.
“Has he chosen a name for himself yet?” Jacque asked.
“That's actually part of the reason I wanted to talk to you so soon.” She said. “Well, and to tell you about it, obviously. He wants me to choose it.”
“Oh? And what have you decided on, anything?”
“Nothin'. I want you to choose his name.”
Jacque blinked, surprised. “Pourquoi ?”
“You chose her name when she was born. It's only fair that you do the same now that he's… well, he.”
“Mon amour, are you certain? I am not exactly active in the child's life anymore, autant que ça me fait mal, you are far more deserving of-!”
“Jacque.” Her voice - it was still beautiful even when she was being stern - interrupted. Jacque stopped talking instantly.
“I know you left. And I know you're not gonna be here to watch him grow. But I still want you to be a part of him. I know you love him, and I want him to know that you love him. Even if he doesn't realize it right away.”
Jacque closed his eyes, trying to will them to stop watering so damn much. He blinked a few times.
“Will you tell him about this conversation?”
“No. I already know you don't want him trackin' you down, I'll pretend like I came up with the name.”
Silence.
“Jeremy.”
“Jeremy?”
“Oui. That's the name I will give to him.”
“Jeremy… It's lovely.”
“Pas aussi belle que toi, ma fleur.”
“Oh, stop it!”
She laughed again. Jacque could listen to that laugh for hours. It was intoxicating, like music. He wished he could drop everything and travel back to Boston just to hear it in person.
But he couldn't. He'd tried, once. To stay, to build a life with the one he loved most. But that had proved to be too dangerous for him, his love, and his child. It would have to be phone calls, photographs and letters from here on out, at least until he was able to finally lay low and get out of his bloodthirsty enemies' radar. There were days where he risked it all to see them, of course - first days of school, a few birthdays, Christmases and Halloweens. He was disguised, of course, and never interacted with them, but he would watch from afar. Watch as his daughter - son, he reminded himself - laughed and learned and celebrated alongside his mother. He would never know of the man who was there for first steps and first words, the man who had given him now both of his names.
Jacque held on to the hope that one day, he'd be able to tell him. One day.
They stayed on the phone for several more minutes, catching up and flirting like high school sweethearts. Jacque wished he could stay on the phone with her forever, but he knew that phone bills weren't cheap on her end and she had eight children total to take care of.
Eight sons. And only one of them was his.
But if given the opportunity, Jacque would have treated all of them as if they were his. If only fate hadn't been so cruel to him.
“Aw, hell, I gotta start cookin' dinner. They'll all be home from school in a few.” She said. It had been about half an hour, but to Jacque it still felt too soon.
Despite everything in him wanting to convince her to stay on the line, to talk, to laugh, to pretend like he wasn't living the life he was, Jacque sighed instead.
“Alright. Take care of Jeremy for me, okay?”
“You know I will, hun. I'm sure he'll love the name.”
There was a brief moment of silence and Jacque could tell that she was about to hang up, but he had to say one more thing before he left.
“Roxanne?”
“Hm?”
“I'm proud of him. Je suis très, très fier. Tell him on my behalf, s'il-vous-plaît.”
He could once again hear her smile through the phone. What he would give to be able to see it in front of him couldn't be put into words.
“I will.”
“Je t'aime, ma fleur.”
“Je t'aime, beau gosse.”
With a click, the call ended.
Jacque was sad, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk to her again until at least a month from now, but a feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest despite this.
He had a son. And even though he had yet to see him for him, he couldn't be more proud to be his father.