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Peter and Elizabeth were very proud of their son. He had just graduated summa cum laude from Dartmouth College in New Hampshire after earning a degree in history. He had hedged his bets by completing his 4-year education with a minor in economics which incorporated specifics of financial markets, corporate finance, and monetary policy. Apparently, he had inherited a head for number-crunching from his father.
All through those busy matriculating years, he had earned money working in the college cafeteria and bookstore, and he put each dollar away like a miser because he had a goal in mind. He wanted to return to Europe once more, but this time on his own dime. He planned to go backpacking through Europe’s capitals to take in the sights via youth hostels along the way. However, this time two parents wouldn’t be tagging along, although he wasn’t planning on doing this solo. On this trip, he was going to have a young female companion for company.
Over the last four years, Peter’s son and Neal’s daughter, Elise, had kept an animated correspondence alive. Texts, emails, and phone calls had flown back and forth across the Atlantic like the old, retired Concorde that once flew between New York and London at speeds that exceeded 1300 mph. The pretty young girl that Peter and El had met in Paris was now 19 years old and attending classes herself at the Sorbonne in Paris. Her major was art history. Elise, like young Neal, seemed very invested in this long-distance relationship which could turn out to be more than just youthful infatuation. But Peter had questions while this future trip was still in the planning stages.
“Is Elise’s father okay with letting his daughter go off backpacking through foreign countries with you? How about her mother? Is Celeste Reynard comfortable with this idea as well?”
A son laughed. “Elise said that her dad was waffling at first, but when she had her mother’s support, her father caved because he can never say no to the two most important women in his life.”
Later when Peter and El discussed this in bed that night, another mother added her own insightful words of wisdom. “Look at this from another perspective, Hon. When they’re together 24/7 for an entire summer, it will either make it or break it for them.”
However, it really didn’t come as a surprise when the saga continued after the European trip because nothing had become broken in two star-crossed young people’s lives. They were experiencing something that seemed engineered by destiny, and two sets of parents were caught up in the drama that eventually culminated in a storybook wedding two years later.
Celeste fussed over her daughter’s veil and kissed her gently on the cheek, but it was a father who asked that all important question before he was to walk his only child down a church aisle to wed her groom.
“Are you really sure about this, ma petite? It’s not too late to call it off,” he whispered as Elise placed a delicate hand on his arm.
“Yes, Papa, I am very sure,” she whispered back with a radiant look on her beautiful face.
Neal smiled at his beloved child. He was giving away something very valuable. At the very least, he was entrusting her to another’s care. It brought back memories of his own decision to place his wellbeing as well as his future in the hands of this boy’s father. He had once trusted Peter, so he vowed that he would now trust the man’s son as well. Things seemed to have come full circle.
After the words of a priest made everything official and guests were retiring to a restaurant for the reception, a new bride and groom looked enchantingly happy like they truly belonged on top of the elegant three-tiered wedding cake. Peter and Elizabeth didn’t know anyone in the private dining room where a harpist was playing soft music and toasts were being made until a wizened bald man sauntered up to them with a champagne glass in his hand.
“Suit, Mrs. Suit, how lovely to see you again,” he smiled as he raised the crystal flute and grinned.
“Mozzie, I’m retired now and no longer a federal agent, so don’t you think it’s time you called me Peter?”
“Old habits are hard to break, so you’ll always be a Suit to me. And now I suppose Suit Junior can take up the torch.”
“He doesn’t work for the federal government either, Mozzie.”
The little man shrugged. “Somehow, I can’t seem to bring myself to called him ‘Neal.’ I have to say that this whole blending of two families seems almost incestuous, if you get my drift.”
“Mozzie, the heart wants what the heart wants, and you can’t help loving who you love,” Elizabeth answered gently.
“But maybe you and your husband should take some responsibility for putting all this in motion. In retrospect, do you really think it was a good idea to engineer a meeting years ago when you all came traipsing over here to France?”
“Well, Neal was on board with that,” she reminded Mozzie.
“Yes, I know. Sometimes he finds it hard to let go of the past and the people in it, and that’s his Achilles heel. But just so you are aware, he did tell his wife about his former life before he asked her to marry him. Celeste said it didn’t matter, but I would assume neither you nor my old friend have told the two young lovers of the strange connection you share?”
Peter looked sheepish. “Neither of us ever got around to telling tales out of school, and it’s probably a little late to conger up ancient history now.”
Mozzie arched an eyebrow. “Are you afraid they might hate you for leaving out a few pertinent facts? Ask yourself this, Suit. Did you hate Neal when he finally allowed you to know the truth? How did you feel when you found out that the man you were mourning for months wasn’t dead?”
Peter suddenly produced a smile that was reminiscent of the one on his face when he walked out of a storage locker years ago after figuring out the clues Neal had left.
“I felt joy, pure and simple, Mozzie. I knew the charade was enacted with the best of intentions, and that was to protect everyone from retaliation by some very dangerous people.”
“So, the right thing for the right reason,” Mozzie insisted. “Maybe you should let that sink in for a minute and apply that principle to the here and now.”
Peter stared hard at someone who could cut to the chase, but it was El who said softly, “You’ve made your point, Mozzie and I guess I’ve forgotten how you are sometimes a very wise man.”
“I’m glad that you appreciate my acumen, Elizabeth. Sometimes I surprise myself.”
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After the honeymoon was concluded, Neal helped his daughter and new son-in-law set up a charming little apartment in Montmartre so they could assume a cosmopolitan lifestyle. Elise took on a job as an art restoration specialist at the Louvre, a career opportunity no doubt obtained because of her father’s influence. Peter’s son had secured a highly valued faculty position as a history professor at the American University of Paris doing what he loved. Of course, his parents missed him terribly, but since Peter and Elizabeth were both retired now, they were racking up frequent flyer miles to visit the happy couple as often as possible without being overly intrusive. They stayed for almost a week in December, and Christmas in the “City of Light” was unparalleled in magnificence.
Then, a scant year after the nuptials, four people were told the news that every parent longs to hear even if they don’t say it out loud. Their offspring were going to be making them grandparents in the coming months, and it was like Christmas Day all over again.
Both Celeste and Elizabeth did what grandmothers-to-be have done for centuries. They started amassing baby things—little rattles, tiny booties, and soft blankets, all unisex since the expectant couple refused to know the gender of the treasure Elise was carrying.
At El’s urging, Peter retrieved a small wooden cradle from the attic that had once rocked his son to sleep. He inspected each spindle and supporting slat, then applied lemon oil to make it glow before crating it and sending it on its way to Paris. Both mothers carefully removed their own keepsakes from bedroom cedar chests. Each had saved the christening outfits their infants once wore. Of course, both were white because that was traditional, so it wouldn’t be a gender issue. Instead, it would be a young couple’s decision if they wanted to make use of either offering that was delivered carefully wrapped in tissue paper and love.
When Elise was in the final month of her pregnancy, Peter and Elizabeth rented a small pied-à-terre on the outskirts of Paris. El was a frequent visitor to the apartment in Montmartre, keeping her daughter-in-law company and telling her stories about her young husband when he was growing up.
“I can only hope that I can be the kind of mother both you and my own Maman are. You’ve set the bar very high,” Elise said softly.
“That’s very kind of you to say, Sweetie, but please don’t put me on a pedestal. There were many mistakes made along the way by both me and your father-in-law.”
Elise smiled. “I’m sure what you think were mistakes were only carried out with the best of intentions. When children become adults, they understand that any missteps were motivated by pure love, so there is no need for forgiveness.”
Those words made El begin to wonder if a very wise French mother had confided in her daughter. If she had, then Celeste was probably braver than anyone in this scenario. Or maybe a father had finally confessed his past sins to his child. The question that was looming in El’s mind was whether Elise had shared that knowledge with her own spouse.
However, that worry was put on the back burner when Elise went into labor a few days later, and four people were hunkered down outside of a maternal birthing suite at Bichat–Claude Bernard Hospital awaiting the culmination of an event that had been in the making for nine months. Peter and Neal were pacing as if they were the expectant fathers, while Elizabeth and Celeste looked serene.
“This is nerve wracking, and it’s taking a really long time,” Peter complained.
“Do you think we should be worrying that something may be wrong?” another anxious father asked his former partner.
“I think you both should relax,” El said gently.
“Yes, you should,” Celeste agreed. “Women have been expelling babies from their wombs since Eve bore Adam’s children in the Garden of Eden. Elise is a strong woman, and she will do the same. You must be patient and respect her efforts.”
Finally, after another two tension-filled hours, Elise fulfilled a woman’s destiny, and four new grandparents got their first look at a tiny infant swaddled in her arms.
“He’s beautiful,” El whispered as tears filled her eyes.
“Oui, très beau,” Celeste said as she gazed at her grandson and felt her heart begin to melt.
“Wow, I’ve forgotten how really small newborns are,” Peter said the first thing that came into his head.
Elise’s father remained silent because he couldn’t trust himself to speak. He never thought he’d be living this dream life, not when his own had started out on such shaky ground in St. Louis and then in New York. He wasn’t proud of who he had been back then, so did he really deserve to be this happy now that he was Nicholas Reynard and living yet another lie?
Suddenly, he was pulled from his tumultuous reverie when his son-in-law took the child from Elise’s arms and he found the child being gently placed in his own. “What do you think of him, Grandpa?”
Neal gazed down at an infant with clear blue eyes, a tiny nose, and a mop of dark hair streaked with his mother’s blood. “I think he had to be a fighter to make his way into the world, and he’ll do whatever he must to always be a survivor so he can protect those whom he will come to love,” Neal whispered.
“Then the name we intend to give him is a perfect choice,” a proud father answered. “We’re naming him Neal.”
“So, he’s going to be a junior,” Peter crowed happily.
“No, Dad. That’s close, but not entirely accurate. Our son is going to be named after his maternal grandfather, the person I once called ‘My Neal.’ So technically, he’ll be Neal III.”
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And that concludes an almost storybook tale that ends with, “And they all lived happily after.”
Thank you, dear readers, if you have been keeping up with this collection of short stories entitled “A Child of Their Own.” I hope that you have enjoyed them and perhaps have a favorite or two. Please feed this author by leaving comments or kudos because they are very much appreciated and it makes me happy that I have managed to entertain you if only for a short while.