Ch 16
For a moment we regarded one another in uncomfortable silence. Alex looked away first, then I did the same thing and found my checkbook before me, already completed. Well, damn, I thought. I had no diversion.
And I wanted a distraction. From my own son, from the child I had spent countless nights awake holding and softly singing to as he battled upset stomachs and fevers, as he cut teeth and suffered through colds. Madeline and Meg had always tried to come into the nursery and send me off to bed but I felt a great obligation to Alexandre. Always in the back of my mind was Christine's threat to terminate him before she married the Vicomte. I had wanted him when he was nothing more than a heartbeat, and I had wanted him as an inconsolable infant.
Had I slipped so far in the last year that my love for Christine betrayed my affection for Alexandre? I glanced at him then quickly turned away. There were no words I had for him, nothing that remained unsaid lingering in my mind. All that I wanted was for him to leave so that I could travel five streets away to the Wisteria Hotel. So that I could see his mother while he sat at a dinner table with Julia.
What a despicable creature I was to sit there mere feet from my child and turn my back to him. But even as I thought of what I did, I made no attempt to rectify my action. Most certainly I would not invite him to come with me to see Christine. It was not yet time.
"Alexandre," I started to say.
"I know," he said before I could finish. The bed creaked as he stood. "I'll change clothes before I leave for supper. I won't embarrass you, Father."
That wasn't even near what I was going to say to him. His words made me shudder as he thought his clothing was my greatest concern. I couldn't get my mouth to move, to correct his assumption and apologize for my previous actions.
Ashamed, I merely nodded.
Alexandre shuffled towards the door, hands thrust into pockets and head bowed. He left as he had entered, gaining absolutely nothing in his time with me.
I hated myself for what I did to him and yet I could not speak past the lump in my throat.
"Father," he said.
My eyes flickered up and I watched my son as he turned and looked at me for a moment, his dark eyes filled with the longing I felt deep inside. He stood in the doorway, his hand around the doorknob. Then just as quickly as he had called to me, he turned away and started to leave again, shrugging off an unspoken question.
"Alex, what is it?" I asked as I stood. This was something I had to do. If he left without speaking to me I knew without a doubt that I would lose part of him forever. Already there was too much missing as a result of the last year. I had barely noticed him within the house as the newspapers printed rumors of Christine coming back to Paris.
He refused to turn and look at me again and for a moment I thought he would leave without a sound. He trembled. Even from where I stood at the desk I saw him tremble. There is nothing worse than seeing ones own flesh and blood fearful of something, especially when it is the parent who has caused the trepidation.
"Father, do you…" he paused. My life came to a halt as I waited for him to finish. Whatever he wanted to know I would tell him, whatever he asked of me I would do it, even if meant not seeing Christine. I was at his mercy. If he asked it of me, I would be on my hands and knees before him. I would beg for him to forgive all I hadn't been in this past year.
"Father, do you love me?"
Of course I loved him. No matter what, I would love him until there was nothing left of me in the world and even then, what I felt for my son from the moment he was born until my last breath was drawn, the affection I had for him would resonate an eternity. That was what I would have told him, what I would have offered to quell his anxiety, his second-guesses that I did not care for him.
Only I hesitated to answer and instead gave him nothing but an opened, empty mouth. And as the door closed and I was left alone, I knew in my heart that this was exactly what he expected from me.
Nothing.