Not a Hero
Edmond Dantes watched his two granddaughters smile and laugh with glee at the gifts he had bought them. At seventy-two his life was nearly complete. He had two wonderful children, seven wonderful grandchildren, and a beautiful great-granddaughter.
Albert, his oldest child, was married to a French Baroness and together they had four children: Sophia, Philippe, Vachel and Elaine. Sophia was recently married and had a lovely daughter, Annette. Philippe and Vachel, Albert's sons, were both soon to be married and his last daughter, Elaine was soon to follow.
Mercedes had given birth to a girl not long after she and Edmond had married. Dielle was a beautiful girl, married to a count from Paris, and she had three children, all sons: Bartholomew, Beauregard, and Byron. Sadly his Mercedes, at her age, did not survive the birth of their daughter.
Edmond gave a small smile as he watched Annette, the littlest one, crawl up to Sophia and Elaine. Elaine picked up the child and bounced her on his lap. His head low. He had a wonderful family, yes, but life was incomplete without his love. Mercedes had been happy at the end but Edmond had been so close to losing himself all over again.
If it hadn't been for Albert he probably would have gone straight over the edge. Albert reminded him that he had a family to take care of. He had raised Dielle with Albert and Jacquopo's help. Without them he would have been lost to the darkness.
His grandchildren referred to him as hero for destroying Mon Diego, saving their grandmother, and their father/uncle from his grasp. He had taken back what was his and they loved to hear the stories of Mon Diego, his love affair with Mercedes, and his friend the priest. As the years had passed the stories had grown out of context and far beyond the truth. Still they loved to hear them.
He may be a hero in his grandchildren's eyes but they only knew part of the story. They did not know how bitter and angry Edmond had been during that time period in his life. He cleaned up the parts of violence and his anger for their sake. He certainly was not a hero, never would be.
He had sacrificed so much and been given so much in return. He had lost his father, sixteen years of his freedom, and Mercedes. In return he had been given children, grandchildren, and a darling great-grandchild. He was near his death, that he knew, and he waited anxiously for it to come upon him. He wanted so much to be reunited with his Mercedes, his one true love.
Mercedes had once voiced the question of what design had been created that they were forced to live so long without each other and Edmond often wondered the same. Why were they forced apart for so long? Why when he just had her back in his life was she taken away from him?
Albert sat down next to his father, "You look weary with age."
Edmond turned to face his son and surprised at the shock of white through his hair. Yes, Albert was finding himself up there in age as well. Edmond tried to search his memory for how old his son would be. Was he in his fifties?
"I am weary, my son, but soon I will be reunited with your mother."
"Not too soon I hope," Albert replied, "I know you miss her greatly Father, but we need you here still."
"You all have your lives now," Edmond said. With shaky hands he picked up a glass of water and took a few sips. Setting it down he said, "You have your wife, Dielle has her husband, and you all have your children."
Byron, his youngest grandson, walked over and sat Edmond's feet. "Grandfather, will you tell us the story of you and grandmother again?"
Edmond looked around the room and realized he had the attention of everyone, even those on his staff. Edmond motioned with his hands for everyone, including his staff, to take a seat. Once they were all seated. Edmond began the tale.
THE END