Miracle (62 page)

“Goddamn your secrets! I don’t want you to be a martyr. I want you to include me in
every
decision that might hurt you, that might hurt us both.”

“I’ve been walking a fine line between what’s best for us and what’s best for our baby. It hurt not to tell you.”

What’s best for our baby
. He felt a strangling combination of love for her and fury at what she wanted.
The baby will miscarry. Or be born deformed. Or cause Amy to die from complications
. He was certain of it, more than just from a rational judgment based on his past attempts at fatherhood, but from a deep, mocking fear that hollowed his insides. “My wishes don’t matter,” he said curtly. “That’s obvious.”

There was only silence between them, a frozen silence as she stared straight into his eyes. He saw the anger and disappointment in hers. But she gave him one chance to save himself. “Tell me what you’d prefer that I do,” she whispered.

He sank back into the old darkness. “Have an abortion.”

Slowly she lowered herself to the couch and, folding her hands in her lap, stared straight ahead. “No. I have enough faith for both of us—for all three of us. I even have enough faith to think that you don’t really mean what you just said, and all it would take to change your mind is for me to have a healthy baby.”

“You won’t have a healthy baby.” He clapped his hands in brusque dismissal. “So be it! If you have no respect for
my wishes, at least don’t make this more difficult.” Out of fear grew a need to bully her, to take charge of the remnants of his shaky control. He would fight his superstitions any way he could. He snapped his fingers at her. “We’ll be married as soon as I can arrange the ceremony. You will
not
return to America. We’ll take an apartment in Paris. I’ll select several doctors for you to see on a regular basis, and you will—”

“Go back to Paris tonight and take the first flight home.”

He looked down at her livid face. She sat on the edge of the sofa, chin up, hands clenched so hard the bones of her knuckles looked as if they might break through the skin. “I won’t have your confusion and your anger around this baby for the next five or six months. And I won’t marry you like some embarrassed teenager who’s afraid of what people will think. Our child is not going to see our marriage license some day and wonder if we really wanted to get married. I’ll marry you after this baby is born,
if
I’m sure you love it as much as you love me.”

“You’re not going back to America and live alone, much less travel and work. I forbid it. Don’t you understand? No matter how I feel about this pregnancy, I want to take care of you.”

Her stiffness faded. Tears crept down her face and she looked up at him with yearning. “You wouldn’t be
taking care
of me if I knew that you hated our child.”

“I don’t hate what I can’t believe in!” He slashed the air with his hands. “
Don’t you understand
? There’s too much pain involved in waiting and hoping. I don’t want to drive you away, but don’t ask me to play the happy, expectant father!”

She wiped roughly at her face. “All right. But you’ll love the baby when it gets here. So why not pretend it’s going to be fine?”

“Listen to me.” He bent over her, his hands out in fierce supplication. “I don’t even know anymore what kind of father I’d make. I wonder if I’m even capable of showing the kind of warmth and patience that children need.”

“You are.”

“Damm it! You live inside some kind of hopeful little cocoon
that’s no more protection than a coat of thin air! You think if you want something badly enough, you’ll have it.”

“I wanted you. I have you. I wanted to be in show business. I am. So don’t make fun of my cocoon.”

“You can’t always win.” He sent a scathing look at her abdomen, and she pulled the jacket over it. “This time I think you’re being a fool.”

She stood, wobbling a little. “Maybe. At least your reaction is no worse than I expected. Excuse me.” She kicked her high-heel shoes off and disappeared quickly through a doorway to the suite’s bedroom. He followed her to the pink-marble bath and found her in the confines of the toilet closet, retching into the commode. When he knelt beside her and pressed a wet washcloth to her forehead she began to sob.

He cleaned her face, ignoring her when she tried to push his hands away. Finally, looking exhausted, she leaned against him. He helped her up and poured a glass of water so that she could rinse her mouth. They were both silent and avoided looking at each other. He led her to the suite’s damask-draped bed and they lay down. She turned away from him but didn’t protest when he curved himself to her back and hips. He put his arm over her but avoided touching her abdomen. If she noticed, she didn’t comment, but clasped his hand tightly inside both of hers.

His throat was raw, so he didn’t say anything, either. Nothing was needed. He felt bitter and frightened, and he didn’t want this baby. She knew. He loved her. She knew that, too. As for the rest, she’d have to accept that they were going to deal with this situation
his
way, which meant she would come back to Paris and live under his strict supervision.

Eventually she fell asleep. He considered it a sign of surrender, and kissed her tangled hair before allowing his own emotional exhaustion to take him under. His dreams were vivid and troubling; in them she died or disappeared, and he saw faceless babies.

When he woke up the room was dark and he was alone in bed. He ran through the suite, looking for her, but she and her luggage were gone. He found a note tucked under the handle of his own suitcase.
You work on loving our baby, and I’ll take care of myself
.

A
week later, when she finished her set and walked off stage at a club in Minneapolis, Sebastien was waiting for her. She wavered between welcome and dread when she saw him, his thin black windbreaker pushed back along the side of his powerful torso, his expression above a pale golf shirt as cool as the Minnesota summer, his hands shoved aggressively into the front pockets of tailored slacks. He was an elegant anomaly posed against a background of neon liquor signs and autographed publicity photos from road comics no one knew.

Leaving him in the Rennes hotel suite had been one of the hardest decisions of her life, but she didn’t regret it. She had to force him to choose between his past and their future.

She walked to him slowly, her knees weak. She wanted so badly to hold out her arms and beg him to say that everything was all right, that he had come here to say that he wanted the baby. Then she noticed the stoic little woman in a stern brown raincoat standing beside him with an enormous leather suitcase by her feet.

Amy glanced from his matronly, graying companion to his frown. Nothing she could say would sum up her dilemma better than the truth. “I haven’t changed my mind, but I’m glad that you found me,” she said, halting close to him and looking directly into his eyes.

They betrayed his turmoil for a moment before he
cleared his throat and gestured brusquely toward the woman. “Meet Magda Diebler. Frau Diebler, this is Amy Miracle.”

“Hello, Frau Miracle,” Frau Diebler said with an accent as heavy as bratwurst.

“Hello.” Amy shot Sebastien an astonished look. He jerked his head toward the open area behind him, which included the lobby, bar, and club offices. “Is there someplace where you and I can talk in private?”

“I’m the headliner. I’ve got my own dressing closet. I think we can both squeeze in there.”

“Good. Frau Diebler, excuse us a moment.”

Frau Diebler straightened and gave a little snap with her head. Her braided coil and salt-and-pepper hair shifted forward with the subtle salute. “Ja, Herr Doctor.”

Amy led him down a side hall to a narrow door that bore a sign hand-lettered with her name. Occupying the tiny space inside was a vanity, a bathroom, a clothes rack, and one folding chair for guests. She lowered herself onto the vanity bench as he took the chair. She could feel the pulse ticking swiftly in her throat.

“You mock our love and respect for each other,” he said stiffly.

“I refuse to live with you unless you try to love our baby.” She leaned forward and grasped his hands. “No baby of mine is gonna be born unwanted … or at least, it’s never gonna
know
that its father didn’t want it. You saw what I went through because of my father. Dear Lord, Sebastien,
look what you went through because of yours
. Don’t do that to your own child.”

He imprisoned her hands inside his and gripped them harshly. A muscle worked in his cheek, “That’s
exactly
what I’m trying to avoid. Another mistake.”

“Or a chance to make things right!”

“You and I have our lives in order now. Every happiness we want is within our grasp, because we’re together. I’ve waited so long for this. I don’t want to feel cursed anymore. I don’t want anything to jeopardize our relationship.”

“I know, Doc. Don’t you think I want to protect what we have between us? But now that includes a baby. I didn’t
plan it, and I certainly wouldn’t have deliberately gone against your wishes. It happened. If you believe in signs and omens, take this as a
good
one.”

He released her hands with an exclamation of angry defeat. “It’s pointless to discuss this. I have a plane to catch.”

“You just got here!”

“I came here for one purpose. It won’t take long. I have a dozen meetings with my father’s executives this week. Annette is having skin grafts on her legs, Jacques has been suspended from school for fighting, and yesterday he even blackened his sister’s eye. I punish him and he hates me. I don’t know what to say to him. My father has developed a kidney infection.” He rammed a hand through his hair. “I want to be here, but I
have
to be there.”

With a sympathetic murmur she slid forward and reached for him. He let her put her arms around his neck and hold him, and after a second he gave in and embraced her desperately, pulling her between his legs so that her torso pressed tight against his.

She held him so hard her arms quivered. “Don’t you know I’d do almost anything to make you happy? I didn’t want to upset you this way. At first I even hoped that I’d miscarry, to make it easy for both of us. But this baby wants so badly to be born—it’s healthy, and it’s growing, even though it was conceived against all odds. We’re
supposed
to have this baby.”

“Miracle, your pregnancy was only an accident.”

“You believe so strongly in fate bringing bad things into our lives. Why can’t you believe that fate brings
good
things, too?”

“We’re talking about your
life
! I don’t want to lose you, Miracle! I don’t want you hurt or disappointed.”

“Then don’t hate me for wanting this baby.”

“You know that’s not it. I’m afraid for you, scared out of my mind. Nothing you can say will change that.”

“Go home,” she whispered, her voice broken. “And stop worrying about me. That’s one reason I waited to tell you about the baby. You have too much to worry about, already.
I don’t need for you to take care of me. I need for you to be ready to accept this baby when it’s born.”

He set her back on the bench, his expression shuttered and hard. “As I said, I have a plane to catch. There’s no more time for arguing.”

“Doc, did you come all the way to Minnesota just to—who is that woman?”

“Your nurse. She’s a specialist in obstetrics. Here.” He whipped one side of his coat back and pulled a thick envelope from an inner pocket. He tossed the envelope on her lap. “Her credentials. I’ve made all the arrangements for her work visa. She goes where you go. When you have medical problems—”

“I
won’t
have problems.”

“She’ll take care of you. Please.” He looked away, his jaw clenched. Amy watched his struggle for control and knew that his anger hid a great deal of fear and sadness. When he looked at her again he had regained his composure. “You owe me this much.”

“I don’t want a stranger hovering over me, Sebastien.”
I want you, you arrogant, stubborn bastard
.

He tapped the envelope. “There’s a set of credit cards for you. And checks for a New York bank account in your name. Buy whatever you’d like. See that you and Frau Diebler travel in comfort. You don’t have to share your hotel rooms with her. I suggest that you book suites for the two of you.”

“Damn, I was plannin’ to let her sleep at the foot of my bed, like a German shepherd.”

“Then you won’t argue about this? You accept her?”

“A spy? A warden? Is that what you want me to accept? Don’t you
ever
trust me? You left me with a
guardian
when you went off to Africa, remember? I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now!”

“You liked it well enough, as I recall.” His voice was low and brutal. “Perhaps I should locate Jeff Atwater again.”

Her hands rose to her mouth, and she looked at him in shock. His cruelty had the effect of a hand twisting inside her chest. She already saw the painful backlash in his eyes. “I can’t believe you said that to me. I don’t deserve it.”