Chapter 35

After having left May Alice at Lafayette Regional, Rennie returned to her house to be with Elizabeth. He'd had to tell Arlene he would, again, be picking up the kids from school that day and told her only that he had some things to work out with them before he continued with their newest routine. She was not happy about the sudden changes, with such little explanation behind them, but did not the press matter, sensing Rennie was going through something. She wondered if it had anything to do with May Alice, but, of course, she'd never ask.

Rennie and Chantelle looked up several articles about depression in children on May Alice's computer. He mentioned, that earlier, that same morning, the pre-school nurse, Miss Etta, had phoned him with the name of a psychologist who also happened to be her daughter-in-law. She assured Rennie that if he opted to have Elizabeth seen by a therapist, she thought this would be a good fit. He'd called Dr. Asher's office and she'd asked to see them that afternoon. Rennie was apprehensive but Chantelle offered, "It can't hurt to hear what she thinks." He asked Chantelle if he could bring the other kids to her again that day while he took Elizabeth and of course, she was happy to help out.

He arrived at the suite of offices with Elizabeth at 3:30 p.m. He was surprised to see that Dr. Asher looked quite young, maybe in her mid-thirty's, he guessed. She was a far cry from the school psychologist, and Rennie understood, as soon as she spoke, what Nurse Etta meant by her being a good fit. Dr. Asher was calm, and welcoming and she assured Rennie before even assessing Elizabeth that she didn't anticipate anything as drastic as medication for treatment, which immediately put him at ease.

Elizabeth had been taken to an adjoining room by an assistant who worked to engage her in activities while Rennie gave Dr. Asher details on all that had happened to the family in the past year. The doctor then asked Rennie what he thought might be the root of Elizabeth's despondency. He was a little surprised by that, he'd assumed she would simply tell him what he had done wrong. She chuckled and said, "Oh, no, Mr. Boudreaux; you know your child best; I'm just here to help facilitate ways to help you communicate with her, and maybe, give her some tools to communicate back."

He described his observation about the lack of affection Arlene had shown to the kids, and he'd concluded that, Elizabeth, being the youngest, had likely never felt real affection from Arlene. He never believed that Arlene did not lover her, just that she could not express it in a way that was valuable to Elizabeth, and why should he deny Elizabeth the affection of another woman who was perfectly willing to provide that love to her? He finally felt justified in telling the doctor something he'd been ashamed to admit. "I think she chose a different mother, and I can't blame her."

The pair talked more and they'd brought Elizabeth back into the room with them for the last half hour of the appointment so that Dr. Asher, and her assistant, could discuss the child's demeanor. Both agreed that Elizabeth did exhibit symptoms consistent with depression but they believed them, likely, acute. Dr. Asher warned only time would tell, for certain, but if nothing changed, it was likely the issues would deepen. She asked Rennie what alternatives were available to him for changing the situation. "I'll do whatever I need to," he said simply. "I'll take her out of daycare and stay with her all day if that's what it takes for her to feel secure." While admirable, the doctor pointed out that, being the breadwinner, his offer was not a sustainable solution.

"I do agree, however, that spending time with her right now is paramount," she offered. "Fostering the security within her family should help alleviate the acuteness of the symptoms and from there, we'll just see." They agreed that they would give it a week, and she asked he return then, and revisit options. She added, "What you do about including her mother is, fortunately, up to you right now,". She knew he had custody for at least another year, and could actually opt to keep Elizabeth from Arlene if he chose to do so. "But do not discount that keeping her from her mother all together, could have some ramifications later in her life."

Rennie assured her he would return the following week and would call if Elizabeth's condition worsened. He had so much to think about, and he was feeling May Alice's absence keenly, but he was determined that Elizabeth would not continue to endure whatever was troubling her, all on her own.

When they returned to the Culhane's to retrieve the other kids, Chantelle had dinner prepared and insisted they stay and eat. Elizabeth had been marginally better that day, but upon understanding, by that evening that May Alice was not coming home, she became weepy and would not eat. Chantelle took the girl from the table and sat with her on May Alice's bed, hoping the environment, at least, would offer her some solace. She assured the girl, as she had all day that "Mama's" absence was truly just temporary.

Once Elizabeth was gone from the table, Rennie explained Elizabeth's condition the kids. Missy and Sabine were glad they were not the only one's who'd noticed the change in the girl. Jaxon worried what would happen if she didn't snap out of it, and Acadia said what Rennie had known all along. "She just wants to be with Miss Ma."

He let the conversation end there. He knew what he wanted, and it would require May Alice's participation, and it's why he's sent her away; she would have to be certain of her commitment, or he would have to change his strategy and that, he refused to think about just then because it was just too sad to consider.

Chantelle suggested the family spend the weekend again at the Culhane home. She knew the kids loved it there and could entertain themselves, giving Rennie some room to breathe. She also wanted to keep her own eyes on Elizabeth, both for herself, and she'd promised May Alice she would. Rennie said he'd see how they all felt in the morning after the library but he, too, hoped what Chantelle did, that the consistency of being at the home, even without May Alice present, might still be enough to help keep the girl from sliding further into her melancholy.

Saturday arrived, and before they departed for the library, Rennie phoned Chantelle to report that Elizabeth did well overnight. She still wet the bed, but she'd slept and she'd eaten breakfast. He invited her and Denita to have lunch with them at the diner, which they happily did. To no one's surprise, they all returned to the Culhane home that afternoon and spent the day doing all the things they loved to do there. The talk periodically included the absence of May Alice, and they all wondered what she was doing, and how she would like her play.

Rennie had been quieter than usual, Chantelle noticed. He was heavy in thought about how to tell Arlene his plan for Elizabeth's immediate future. He knew she had no choice but to allow him to proceed, but she could make it more difficult for him through the other kids, and that was the last thing he wanted. He was lost in those thoughts, and a few others, when he realized he'd lost sight of the toddler. Relieved to not see her heading to the water, he moved into the house to find her. Not seeing her in the kitchen or living room, he continued to May Alice's room and found Elizabeth sitting on the bed, wrapping herself in one of May Alice's t-shirts. It made him smile, and he continued to watch silently as she finished, then lay down on the pillow with her favorite rabbit in her arms, and closed her eyes to nap. He moved next to her and asked if she minded his napping with her. She shook her head and took hold of one of his fingers and whispered the customary words they exchanged before going to sleep. "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, sweetheart." He didn't sleep, he just lay with her, and listened to her breathing, and he became convinced he was making the right decisions for his family. After some time, he moved off the bed and found Chantelle. He asked her if she could watch the kids the next morning. He needed to update Arlene. "Of course; you can even let them sleep over tonight if you want." He would have liked that, but in the interest of consistency, he felt he should have everyone return home.

Rennie woke the kids early Sunday morning. He had them fed and dressed, and to Chantelle by 9:00 a.m., then was off to meet with Arlene. He purposely wanted to meet her before her 11:00 a.m. mass, hoping she'd find solace in it after what he knew he needed to tell her. There was not gentle way to say it, even though, he had no desire to purposely hurt her.

They met in one, of several, small courtyards around the campus of St. John's. It was a truly peaceful place, although, Rennie's mind was unable to enjoy it at the time. He started right away, explaining fully, the events that had rendered her unneeded the past Thursday and Friday. He omitted the part about his having proposed to May Alice, both, because it was not relevant to the conversation, and because, for right then, it was just theirs to share. He explained Elizabeth's condition, and how it had started with the reintroduction of Arlene into their routine. He wasn't blaming her, he explained. In fact, her return had been a positive thing for most of the kids just, maybe, not Elizabeth. He spoke quickly, wanting her to have all the facts before he imposed his solution on her. She couldn't have interrupted him much anyway because she was so stunned by the news of her child's condition. She didn't want to believe that her return could have such a consequence. He could see she was struggling with the news, so when he'd finished with the prognosis of the girl, he paused, because the next part would be the more hurtful of the information.

"So, you think her being with me is her issue?" Arlene finally asked, failing to see the same connections Rennie was making.

"A lot of things have happened to her in a year; a lot of changes, because of things both you, and I, are responsible for, but your leaving wounded all the kids. They've all found ways to try and heal without you. Elizabeth's just a baby, but I think she also found a way to heal her wound without you. I won't undo that healing just to make room for you again. I won't do it."

"What exactly are you saying?"

He could see she was readying for battle so he continued with an iron will, "You may still see, and keep the kids for as long as they want you to, but Elizabeth won't be part of it. Not until she asks for something different."

Arlene wasted no time in responding to that. "And you're going to what - let your mistress raise her? Does that woman even have one iota of maternal instinct? She can't have kids of her own, so, you just want to give her one of mine? You think that will make her a woman again? Seriously Rennie, you're not thinking with the right head." Her insults should have incensed him, but they didn't. He knew the revelation would be a hard one for her and he'd allowed for her to lash out; although, he hadn't expected her to attack May Alice so cruelly.

Ignoring the implications, and the insults, he continued calmly, "Elizabeth requires more affection than you have shown her, and she's found it elsewhere and I won't take that from her." He wanted to add that she could be in danger of losing Acadia for the same reason, but he refrained because Acadia was old enough to know her own heart, and make her own decision, he didn't need to speak for her just then.

Arlene shook her head in disbelief. She was hurt, but she knew Rennie wouldn't lie to her about Elizabeth's condition and she couldn't deny she had not done right by her family. She'd come back to try Lafayette to try though, and she needed his support to do that. "I know," she said, trying to calm herself, "that I don't have a choice in this right now, but Rennie, she's my baby," she pleaded.

"She'll always be. How you choose to move forward with her, will be up to you, but when, is going to be up to me, and I won't decide until she's older and more settled."

"What about her birthday?" It was only three days away.

Rennie shook his head, "This starts now," he said, firmly.

"I just don't see why you think this is the solution. How is it fair to let some, has-been actress spend more time with her than me?"

Aghast that she was, again, attacking May Alice, he looked directly into Arlene's eyes, steeling his gaze, and silently warning her not to let him answer that question. Arlene knew the challenging stare and quickly backed down, her emotions muddled by the news, her reaction, and by seeing that piece of Rennie she'd long forgotten about; that fiercely protective Cajun boy that had saved her life so long ago. She knew instinctively, she would not gain headway that day, so she took what she could, and reiterated what he'd promised, "I can still see the others?"

"Yes."

She conceded, "Okay, we'll try it your way. But you have to promise me you will let me see her, and if she doesn't improve, you will let me be involved?" He'd not planned for the possibility of Elizabeth not improving and he was upset that it was Arlene bringing it to his attention. Indeed, what if it turned out his plan wasn't all Elizabeth needed to recover?

"Let's see how it goes," he agreed. He moved to leave, thinking he'd said all he was prepared to, but he stopped, and turned back to her, and said, "There's one more thing. I can't stop you from saying, or thinking, whatever you want about May Alice. I've never lied to you about my relationship with her, and the children love her. If you say the things about her, that you've said to me today, to the kids, you will only be hurting them." He'd said his peace and turned, and left.

The words were not lost on Arlene. Once the initial harshness of his plan had dissipated, and she was able to see things from his perspective, she felt a rush of guilt, and embarrassment. It was as exactly how she'd felt the day he'd confessed his love of May Alice, and it distressed her to know how easily she'd reverted to jealousy and anger, instead of with the love and understanding God would have instructed her to share with him. She decided, she needed to seek the counsel, once again, of Sister Nancy, who had become her trusted confidant in the absence of Deacon Leon.

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May Alice awoke Sunday morning feeling completely rested. The time away was exactly what she needed. The calmness that had eluded her much of her life, was, happily, still present, and she felt confident in the knowledge that she could do more than she'd have given herself credit for. While truly proud how her little writing experiment had turned out, with such success, she felt like it was a fitting end to the life she'd had in New York, and she was genuinely happy to be leaving, and returning home.

Ben greeted May Alice in her suite, promptly, at 1:00 p.m., as she'd requested. He asked about how the rest of her evening was and he was happy to hear she'd slept well. When convinced that she was ready, he helped her with her bags and they left the Plaza Hotel for St. Patrick's Cathedral. Ben escorted her out of the car and on their way into the cathedral, May Alice stopped in the gift shop that was attached to the parish hall. She purchased six, small St. Joseph's medallions, one for each of the kids. Ben observed the care she took in choosing them and shook his head and smiled at her. "You are full of surprises, my dear." Next, they made their way into the Cathedral, but Ben remained near the back of the church, giving her time to herself while still watching her with a newfound curiosity.

Simply entering the church and recalling its majesty, May Alice felt unworthy being there. She found herself, not praying, but, rather, thanking God for the many blessings she'd received that year and she asked forgiveness for not having always seen them as such. One thing she found difficult, was asking for forgiveness of her sins. She couldn't imagine, with the happiness and fulfillment she received from Rennie and his family, that their being together was a sin. Once she'd spent enough time in thankful prayer, she moved into a small vestibule, next to the altar, and lit a candle for the life she knew was growing inside of her, and she prayed that life was, truly, God's blessing, and that she would carry the pregnancy through. She also prayed for the souls of her parents, who she was missing more than she ever had before.

Inside the vestibule with her, lighting several candles, was a priest. He smiled at her and noticed her gift bag. He inquired what she'd purchased, and when she told him, he offered to bless the medallions for her, which, she happily agreed to. When the father had finished, and handed the newly blessed trinkets back to her, he held her hands in his and said, "Peace be with you, and your children." His choice of the word peace hit home, and the gesture moved her tremendously. As she had the night before in the restaurant, she did, in fact, feel nothing but peace.

"And also with you, Father" she reciprocated.

"Trust yourself," the priest said to her," It's often how He answers our prayers." Then, he departed, and she was left pondering those first, two words. She'd heard them in her head, the day she learned she could be pregnant, but that day, she'd heard them in her mother's voice. Hearing them repeated that day, aloud, by a priest, was a surreal and unnerving experience, yet, she felt perfectly content, and hopeful. She rejoined Ben, happy to begin the journey home.

They arrived at La Guardia at 2:30 p.m., a bit earlier than scheduled. Randy was already present, as was the plane. Randy took her items to the jet, allowing her, and Ben to say their goodbyes. Ben had been unusually quiet since their departure from St. Patrick's, as had she, but as Randy exited the private terminal suite for the plane, May Alice began a polite, but sincere thank you to Ben for having, not only gotten her there, but also making it so easy for her to have come alone. She noticed Ben was having trouble acknowledging her words; he kept fidgeting, and looking away. Once she'd finished speaking, and it was clear she was expecting some response, Ben finally made eye contact. He tried to speak some words for her, but she witnessed him becoming overwhelmed by whatever they were. He looked away, embarrassed at his unexpected flow of emotions. Randy returned just then, and asked May Alice if she'd like to stand while he took her wheelchair to the jet. She had her own reaction about seeing Ben that way. She'd relied on his always being the one in control, the one with a plan, and exactly the right words for every situation. On the very rare occasion when he was not any of those things, she needed his aloofness and biting sense of humor to reassure her. But in that moment, she received nothing.

"No, Randy, it's fine," she said. "You can wheel me out now; Mr. Marley was just leaving." She believed she understood that, Ben, not unlike herself, was finally trying to say goodbye to the two people they had once been. He was in love with Alex, and while that wouldn't change his life completely, it would change it; and she, had been irrevocably altered, well over a year before, and had been saying goodbye to that life ever since. She didn't need Ben to say anything, and she didn't want him to be any more uncomfortable than he already was. She did, however, as Randy wheeled her past him, run an assuring hand across his back, and said, gently, "Good bye, my friend."

As they reached the double door, Ben finally spoke. He asked her to stop, and asked Randy to give him just another moment. May Alice turned her wheelchair to face Ben as he approached her. As if he'd read her mind, he apologized for not having the right words at the ready. His demeanor was softer than any time she could ever recall before. He sat on the edge of one of terminal chairs facing her. His confidence had returned and he looked at her with the same familiarity she was used to from him. "I hope that I have done all right by you. I know ours was not a conventional, well . . . anything." He laughed, unable to describe them as just lovers, friends, or colleagues. May Alice smiled, and he continued, "I guess I couldn't describe what we are if I had to; but, what I hope you know is that I never set out to use you. It was always my intent, that whatever we chose to do with one another, had mutual benefit." She was puzzled by that statement; although she thought he might be saying good bye to them, she feared she'd done something to make him think she'd been anything but a willing participant in their arrangements.

"Ben, whatever you and I were doing together saved me from a lot of other bullshit. I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you doubt that." She hoped he could understand her comment about the bullshit, but it was nothing they'd ever discussed. Her access to him allowed her to remain free from the expected entanglements, so often associated with, or even created by, the art of celebrity. She didn't have to sleep with anyone for a favorable role, she didn't have to feud with, or date, anyone to keep her celebrity status relevant; just knowing Ben was a big deal, but being in his inner circle made her royalty, and it had opened plenty of doors and provided her safety. And above all, he had always been honest and mostly kind to her.

"No, no, you haven't," he admitted, which caused another questioning look in her, "It's just that this past year, the things that have happened to us, I have seen a new dimension to you. While I have always been amazed by you, and drawn to your strength, I never counted on seeing the softness in you. When I did, it overwhelmed me, and it continues to. You have a richness to you that I never looked for, and probably would have completely missed, had it not been for this past weekend. It makes me feel like I've taken advantage of you all this time."

He looked genuinely sad, and that unnerved her almost more than his earlier bout of emotion. She responded, in kind, "And now, I have seen that same dimension in you." She offered him a little smile and continued, "Don't worry, I won't tell." Then she took his hands in hers, and leaned toward him. "You never took more from me than I let you; and you gave me plenty in exchange. Maybe we thought we were far too cosmopolitan to actually love one another, but, perhaps, there is something equally meaningful between us after all?" With those words, she had done to him what she had all weekend; she had dealt him a gentle kindness, not only by excusing his perceived treatment of her, but also by acknowledging that she genuinely cared for him, and he for her; something he'd questioned ever since he'd abandoned her in the hospital over a year earlier. And again, he was speechless. He knelt before her and wrapped her in a tight embrace and did not let go until Randy, tentatively, reentered the terminal and lingered beside the doors. When Ben released her, he took her chin in his hand and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Absolutely there is," he said, as he stood, and rushed out of the opposite doors.

The jet was airborne twenty minutes later, and Randy and May Alice spent the entire flight talking and joking and trading stories of their, completely different, upbringing. He'd attempted to excuse himself several times to allow her some time alone, but, unlike her trip out, she had no need to sort anything out; she'd nestled into the peace that had been delivered to her in New York and she believed it would guide her to the right decisions facing her. She reveled in the foreign feeling that everything was going to work out.

Rennie watched as the same sleek jet that had spirited her away, taxied back to the terminal where he was awaiting May Alice's return. He watched as the small door pulled away from the fuselage, exposing the steps that would soon yield his future; whatever that future may be. He recognized the man holding her in his arms as they descended the steps; he was same tall, muscular blonde attendant who'd happily greeted her there just two days ago. Rennie felt as though May Alice looked perfectly comfortable in his arms and they were laughing and talking as though they'd been lifelong friends.

When they arrived inside the terminal, Randy set her down where she could easily stand, while he retrieved her chair from the plane. As Rennie approached her, he heard Randy say to her with a wink, "Don't run off."

"Hi," he said nervously, unable to get a read on her, since she was, clearly, still enjoying her exchange with the jet's attendant.

She turned to face him, still standing, holding the back of the bench she was using to steady herself. "How is Elizabeth?" she asked.

"I think she's gonna be okay. No, she is, she is gonna be okay." He had been advancing to her and as he answered, he reached out and wrapped her in a firm embrace. They held each other a moment then May Alice pulled away, but remained holding on to him instead of the bench.

She and smiled at him. "Rennie, I love you, and I want you to marry me, and my kid." He tripped over her disarrangement of his words, but was elated that she'd remembered them, and repeated them, sort of. She is perfect, he thought. He shook his head and chuckled, not believing his good fortune. Before he could tease her about the mix up, Randy had returned with her wheelchair.

The men maneuvered her into it, and Rennie took her bag from Randy and stepped away allowing them to say their good byes. He couldn't take his eyes off May Alice. She was radiant. Her pale skin looked porcelain against her auburn hair, and her green eyes were deep as jade. He knew he'd missed her, but she'd been gone only two days and, still, she looked more beautiful than he'd ever remembered. Randy departed the terminal for the jet, and Rennie approached her again, and took the handles of her chair and moved her toward the exit. "You know," he said as they headed for his truck, "your acting skills have suffered a little; you messed up your lines back there."

She hummed a bit and then said, "No, I don't believe I did." She was smiling, waiting to see if he actually heard what she'd said. When he reached to lift her into the truck, she held him around his neck, like she usually did, and whispered in his ear, "Maybe you just misunderstood my lines?" He could tell, from her voice, he had missed something. He tried to recall exactly what she'd said but she repeated them for him. "Rennie," she said, commanding his full attention, and said a little more slowly, "I love you, and I want you to marry me, and my kid." She couldn't help but smile again when she said kid. He was still processing, when she continued, "Oh, my gosh, you're right. I did mess it up!" she laughed a little then repeated, "Our kid. Marry me, and our kid."

He sat her in the seat of the truck and released his hold on her. He took her hand in his and rested one foot on the running board of the truck. He was fidgeting, squirming at what he hoped she was saying. When he made eye contact again, he knew he had understood. She looked him directly back in the eyes, desperately needing to gauge his response. She had come to terms with the news, she'd had the time and she'd found her peace with everything, but he had not. She had not allowed for that, and suddenly, she doubted telling him that way. She knew, ultimately, he would be happy; but it had to have come as a shock, and she honestly had no idea how he would react under the circumstances. He was always so assured, so confident, so steady. As she gazed upon his face looking for a sign, she saw his face soften, he smiled, and he had tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't find words, so, he embraced her tightly, and soon, he began to shudder a bit. She just held him and let him ride the emotion. "The timing is terrible, I know, and I need to have the test still, but, I'm pretty sure," she whispered as his shaking subsided. "And there could be complications," she warned, not wanting him to risk getting too excited just yet, "it's a lot to process."

At that declaration, he pulled back from her and placed his hand on her cheek. "We'll be fine. No matter what happens, we're gonna be okay."

She believed him, with all her heart.