Exposure (15 page)

For every class of students at the language
school, there was a little ceremony and presentation of certificates for those
who completed the course. Lucien and his class were leaving that February, and
I threw a little party for them. It wouldn’t be much—just a few drinks and
snacks. But this was my favorite group of students, my first in France, and I
would miss them even if I hadn’t been out and about much with them lately.

“You are having a baby,” Lucien said,
stating the obvious, when he caught me alone in the kitchen.

“Yes, either that or I’ve become far too
fond of French cuisine.”

“Nathan’s baby?”

“Yes,” I said, because what was the point
of denying it?

“What are you going to do? Will you stay at
the school after the baby is born?”

“Yes, I like it there.”

“Me too,” he said. “Sorry again about
upsetting you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lucien. I didn’t
know about Nathan and his co-star until you left that article, but I had to
find out sooner or later.”

“Well, he’s a, how-do-you-say,
numbskill
for leaving you.”

“
Numbskull
, Lucien, and you know
sometimes things don’t work out no matter how much we want them to.”

“No they don’t,” he said, and he kissed my
cheek and went to join a group of students excitedly chatting about their
plans.

I needed to make some plans of my own.

***

It was two months before Little Blip was
due to be born. I was starting to think about how I would manage for the birth
when Marie asked me if my family would be coming to help. Marie had become more
of a mother to me than my own mother was, even though we sometimes struggled to
understand each other with my French and Marie’s almost non-existent schoolgirl
English. We preferred to use French most of the time.

“They are not coming?” she said. “How will
you manage? Would you like me to help you?”

“Would you do that?”

“I’d love to,” she said. “We’re going to
see my mother in Avignon next week while the hotel is quiet. Claude’s friend
will look after things there, but I’ll leave our number, just in case. You’re
getting big.”

“And about to get bigger.” I made a face. Little
Blip was already making sleep uncomfortable.

I spent a lot of time at home that week
preparing for a new class of students starting the following Monday, and it
suited me not to go out too much, though I think I was going slightly crazy being
by myself so much. I talked to my baby, but not much to anyone else.

It was Thursday afternoon when I realized
there would be no time to use the number Marie had given me. I had to call the
hospital, but I could hardly move for the pain. I knew it was too early for my
baby. I couldn’t think straight in my panic, scrabbling around looking for the
number for the hospital between contractions. Surely they weren’t meant to be
so close together or so painful so quickly? Suddenly there was a gush of fluid
onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I was bent over the counter waiting
for another wave of pain to subside. My water had broken.

Through the pain and fear, I heard the
doorbell. I hoped it was a neighbor who would help me phone the hospital. I
swore I’d never keep myself to myself again. I lunged at the door to open it
before whoever was there decided no one was home and went away again.

Nathan was standing there. I almost forgot
the pain with the shock of seeing him before another contraction swept any
thought aside. He took one look at me and opened his mouth as if to speak, but
nothing came out, and then he gathered himself together and took control.

“I have a taxi downstairs,” he said. “I
kept it waiting in case you weren’t here. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He carried me downstairs. The taxi driver
took one look at me, and said he’d make it fast. Nathan held me in the back
seat as I squealed in pain. The Nice traffic was always bad, and it was five o’
clock, not the best time to be going anywhere in a hurry. It was taking forever
to get to the hospital. Nathan ran his hand gently through my hair, talking
softly to me, trying to soothe me. It wasn’t working.

I had imagined giving birth. I’d been to
the classes, suffering through them as a single mother alongside all the sets
of proud parents. I’d seen the education video they showed us. It was nothing
like this. I’d never imagined Nathan would be with me, and I’d never imagined
being stuck in the middle of the rush hour traffic in Nice, my baby fighting to
be born.

Yet, here was Nathan and about halfway to
the hospital in the busy streets of the town, I knew we’d never make it on
time.

“Stop. The baby’s coming. The hospital is
too far,” I squealed.

The taxi driver looked over his shoulder.

He swore, some profanity in French I didn’t
catch, but he was just panicking, I think, as much as the rest of us. He wasn’t
expecting such drama in his taxi when he picked Nathan up, for sure. He pulled
over to the side of the busy street causing all kinds of screeching of brakes
and tooting of horns. I didn’t care. This baby was coming now whether the Nice
traffic liked it or not.

As if by instinct, I got onto my hands and
knees on the back seat. Nathan rubbed my back, telling me over and over I’d be
okay though I’m sure he didn’t believe it any more than I did. I had the
overwhelming urge to push, and so I did, and when I pushed once, I wanted to
push again and again.

The pain was unbearable, but I couldn’t
stop myself. Little Blip wanted to be born, and there was nothing I could do
about it. I grunted like a tortured beast and tried to breathe through it like
I’d been taught in the classes. Somehow, no matter what was supposed to happen,
I seemed to be giving birth, in a taxi, in the middle of Nice with my estranged
movie star husband by my side.

The taxi driver and I were on the same page
there. I hadn’t expected my day to turn out like that at all.

As I endured the final excruciating pain,
and the baby slipped out of me, I was in a blind panic. Was my baby breathing?
Had I killed Little Blip by not getting to the hospital on time?

Nathan scooped up his child. “A boy,” he
said and handed him to me as Little Blip took his first lungful of air and let
out a loud cry. I laughed, so relieved to hear that sound. Nathan stripped off
his white cotton shirt and used it to wrap the baby in my arms before the
little one got too cold, though it was a sunny day, and warm even outside.

“Look at that hair,” Nathan said. The baby
had a shock of dark hair, all matted with goo for now but it was a full head.

“Just like papa,” the taxi driver said.

Nathan looked at me, and I nodded.

“Yes, just like papa,” I said.

He smiled and kissed the top of my head so
tenderly I thought my heart would burst open.

A crowd had gathered outside. Nathan got
out.

“Are there any doctors here?” he said.

One was making his way to the taxi through
the throng with his bag.

“Contact the hospital,” the doctor said to
someone in the crowd. “Let them know we’re on our way.”

I lay on the back seat of the taxi as if it
was a treatment couch, the doctor shielding me from the crowd. He opened his
bag and set about cutting the cord, then he handed the baby to Nathan while he
delivered the afterbirth. I ensured the pain of more contractions, as if giving
birth wasn’t enough.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay,” the doctor
said. “Everything appears to be in order.”

I hoped so, but I was in some kind of
ecstatic bubble. I wasn’t panicking. I’d given birth. The baby was okay. Nathan
was here. Nathan was holding the child I thought he might never hold.

As he leaned against the taxi naked to the
waist holding his son, an American in the crowd recognized him.

“Hey, that’s Nathan Waite.”

I supposed it was inevitable, but I was on
a different planet. I almost didn’t care when I noticed a few people taking
pictures on their phones, as long as I didn’t have to be in them. I was in no
state for photographs. People took more pictures as Nathan got in the car and
handed me back the baby, the doctor jumping into the front seat.

I was wrecked. And on cloud nine. All at
the same time.

At the hospital, a medical team was waiting
to meet us. Nathan handed the taxi driver a whole bunch of euros. “I think you’ll
need to get your cab cleaned. I’m sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “Best
thing that ever happened in my taxi.”

Nathan took his card. “Drink later to
celebrate...?” He looked at the card. “Patrice?”

“Sure,” the taxi driver said and grinned.

The doctor was explaining to the medical
team what had happened. “Everything appears to be fine, but the baby is early.”

They whisked me and the baby away, checked
us out and cleaned us up. It seemed that I’d got my dates wrong. The baby was
still early but a little further on than I had worked out, and he had suffered
no ill effects from his unusual entrance into the world. My little one had
survived an appendix operation, my despair, the separation of his parents and a
traumatic birth. He was going to be a survivor, that one. Perhaps he would
always be getting into scrapes. Who knew what the future held?

As soon as I was in a fit state to be seen,
tucked into bed in a private room, which Nathan had probably paid for, he
arrived wearing a clean shirt, his arms full of flowers.

A nurse took the flowers away to put them
in water.

“Thanks for the flowers,” I said to Nathan.
“I see you got cleaned up, too. I suppose you’ve got people hanging around
these days to do everything you need.”

“Usually,” he said, “but not here. I came
as soon as I knew where you were. The doctor lent me a shirt. He has an
apartment near the hospital.”

“And the flowers?”

“Kiosk around the corner. I cleaned them
out. Anyway, we need to talk, but I guess you need to rest.”

He guessed right. It was obvious I could
hardly keep my eyes open despite wanting to know how he found me and so much
more. I slept better than I’d slept in months.

***

The next day, Nathan arrived with more
flowers and fresh clothes for me so I didn’t have to wear the hospital gown.
For some reason I couldn’t get changed in front of him. I felt shy in his
presence as if I didn’t know my own husband anymore. The baby was crying.
Nathan picked him up gently from the crib, kissed the top of his head, and
handed him to me. My heart melted, but I still felt awkward.

“I think he needs to be fed. Could you,
er...”

“You want me to leave?” Nathan seemed hurt.
“After yesterday? You weren’t shy yesterday.” But his voice was gentle.

“I didn’t have a lot of choice yesterday.
Just for a few minutes. I might need the nurse to help. Can you send her in?”

He left, and the nurse came and showed me
again how to get the baby to latch on to my nipple. The little one was catching
on to what he was supposed to do pretty quickly. I couldn’t believe how I loved
this small scrap of a thing already, and how much I would protect him forever
and keep him safe from harm whatever the cost.

She helped me settle the baby down to sleep
again and get changed into the beautifully embroidered nightdress and robe
Nathan had brought.

“He’s asleep again?” Nathan asked, when he
came back in.

“Yes, amazing how he can go from yelling
his head off to looking so peaceful in a few minutes.”

We looked at our sleeping son.

“How did you...”

“...why didn’t you...”

“You first,” he said. “Sorry, there’s so
much I want to know.”

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“Okay if I sit here?” Nathan said,
indicating the edge of the bed next to me.

I nodded. I needed him close to me, but not
too close, while we talked. I needed the barrier of the sheets and bed cover to
protect myself from whatever he might tell me. I knew some of our conversation
might hurt me. There were things I needed to ask, and I suspected I wasn’t
going to like all of the answers.

He sat down.

“Some crazy fan took me to task about
leaving you with a baby. I got a letter through my fan club marked
confidential. I get a lot of those. My assistant deals with them. But she
thought I’d want to see this one. I had to sit down. I had no idea if it was
true. I couldn’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Who was it from?

“Some French guy. He said his name was
Lucien. He claimed to know you. He knew where you lived. He ranted on about how
despicable I was.”

“One of my students,” I said. “I remember
teaching them that word—you know, from the movie
Despicable Me
. They
wanted to know what it meant.”

“Are you teaching here then?”

“Yes, English to foreign students now.”

“You like it? You made a life without me?”
There was a catch in his voice.

“Yes. I had to.”

“What made you run off? I couldn’t
understand how you could go and not leave a word, no note, nothing. I couldn’t
believe you would do that.”

“I don’t know. I just snapped. I couldn’t
take it anymore.”

“I thought things would get better in
time.”

“But I couldn’t see any end to it. I went
out with Hannah and some guy made disgusting, sordid comments about the video.
I came home feeling awful, sick to my stomach. And you weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry. I was away a lot.”

“And then I saw you on TV. You were
laughing about the situation as if how I felt was one big joke. I had to get
out for my own sanity. Maybe I should have left a note, but it was already
late. I wanted to get out that night before I went nuts. I wasn’t really
thinking. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he said. “I’m sorry my
comments hurt you. It was how the publicity people thought we should deal with
it. But I should have told them to think again, knowing how upset you were by
it all. But, Mel, you still didn’t call later, the next day…you never once
called. I was beside myself when I got back to the house. All I had was a
message from your family saying you were safe and they didn’t know where you’d
gone.”

“I didn’t want you to come after me. If you
did some photographer was bound to follow you. I’d never have any peace as long
as anyone knew who I was. Lucien recognized me. He was the only one who did,
but I don’t think he told anyone my secret.”

“I think he was your fan, not mine,” Nathan
said.

“Maybe,” I said, “I think he was hoping
that I’d be more than his teacher.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”

“I didn’t find out for a few months. I was
quite settled here. I had a job, an apartment. No one bothered me. I knew deep
down I’d have to tell you eventually.”

“When he was what? Two? Three years old? I’m
his father, Mel, I needed to know.”

I felt sick then. How could I have thought
that keeping a baby a secret like that was the right thing to do?

“I realize that now. I should have told
you. I’m sorry. In some ways I wanted you to guess and come here, but of course
I’d never let you know where I was. I was just trying to keep it all together
by myself. You saw the result when you found me at home yesterday.”

He reached out and held my hand, and I didn’t
resist. I wept a little realizing how alone I had actually been with only the
couple from the hotel as close friends, and he held me, and then I pulled away,
remembering the real reason I hadn’t told him, hadn’t wanted him to come. He
looked alarmed when I took my hand from his.

“But it was more than that.” I reached for
a tissue on the night stand and dried my eyes. I tried to sit up straight too,
but it was too painful to move. I was feeling pretty bruised from the birth. I
wanted to feel strong, to get my dignity back. I made myself look as calm as I
could.

“More than that? What was it?”

“I couldn’t tell you, because I saw you with...I
saw you found someone else. I didn’t want you to come here if it was only
because of the baby.”

My face crumpled. I realized that was
exactly what he had done. He found out about the baby and hot-footed it on a
plane just because I was having a baby. It wasn’t about me at all. It was all
about the baby.

“But I haven’t found anyone else. I haven’t
been with anyone else,” he said.

“How can you say that? I called home. On
Christmas Day. A woman answered.”

“You called me? I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.
I went back home. I couldn’t stand to spend Christmas in England without you.
That would be Gloria the director I’m working with just now. She must have
answered. She needed a place to stay for the holidays.”

“But it’s in every article that you’ve
moved on and found someone else. You’re with her all the time. Lauren McCade.”

“But you know that’s what newspapers do.
They make a story out of everything. If you read the articles, you’ll see if
they ask me about it, I always deny it.”

“Isn’t that standard practice to get
everyone speculating even more? There’s so much out there about you and her.
How can you say there’s nothing in it?”

“A lot of those pictures you see, they’re
from the set, right? When you’re supposed to be kissing your co-star like you
mean it.”

“But there were loads of pictures, not just
from the set. I saw you everywhere with her.”

“I was coming to that. Lauren is a
beautiful woman, but we’re just good friends. She’s hot property right now. But
she started an affair with Gloria during the making of the movie. Gloria left
her husband and he attempted suicide. It was all very ugly. The rumor mill was
rife, but no one knew anything for sure outside the set. We wanted to keep it
that way. As long as people thought Lauren and I were a couple, they didn’t delve
into the whole thing too far. We were protecting Gloria as well as Lauren. Too
many lives were in too much of a mess.”

“So it was just a publicity thing? Another
one? Didn’t you think how I would feel when I saw that?”

“Lauren helped me a lot when I was messed up
about you running off. I didn’t think you cared what I did. I thought if you’d
cared you would have been in touch. I knew I’d been away such a lot, neglecting
you, and that you were upset with me. Maybe you had found someone else. I didn’t
know. I hadn’t heard from you in so long.”

“No, there’s no one else,” I said. “There
never was, not since you turned up in my classroom and turned my world upside
down.”

“I think you should come back. We can work
it all out.”

I thought about it. I wanted to say yes so
much, but I looked at my baby lying so peacefully in his crib, his breathing as
soft as a butterfly’s wing moving the blanket ever so slightly, the little
purring noises he made as he snuffled now and again in his sleep.