Agent of Change
Author's note: I hope this finds some Call My Agent fans. I am a little unsure about how to get fanfiction,net to create a new category. Fingers crossed. And if you are one of the people following me...thank you very much...please tell any "Call My Agent" fans that you happen to know that is is here. I totally fell in love with this show over the past year or so. It is funny, generous, satirical, goofy, and occasionally almost profound in its presentation of the escapade of Parisian talent agents negotiating their own messed up lives while also trying to ride herd on an A list of French actors...portraying themselves! The writing is first rate and the performances even better. I love all the characters, but admit to a particular fondness for erstwhile 'villain' Mathias Barneviile. Thibault De Montamlambert is a terrific actor and he and his character go for quite a ride. This story is set a few months after the last (so far) episode of "Call My Agent." I am sorry it is such a long read all in one go, but posting chapters is yet another aspect of fanfiction,net that defeats me. I hope you like it.
Matthias Barneville stood leaning against a poster and notice covered wall at a nondescript train station, splitting his attention between the distant tracks, his phone, (STILL no reply), and something or someone behind him. He was dressed casually, in an open collared white linen shirt and loose trousers; for he was a man on vacation. Since he had left ASK, and following his heart attack, he had, under the iron thumb of his doctor and the only somewhat gentler persuasion of Noemie, lost weight – not a lot, but enough to show and to suit him. As did the shorter, if 'saltier' hair, and most especially the beard, kept somewhere between trimmed and scruffy. Matthias was not alone at the station. A dozen or more people...mostly women, (many of whom had already given him gazes both appreciative and puzzled), and a scattering of children, waited on the platform with him. For this was August and the French yearly exodus from Paris was well underway. Working spouses were making their way to vacation spots all over the country.
Normally, he and Noemie would have driven to this non chic yet charming resort tucked deep into the Auvergne together, but a last minute crisis, (a crisis in the mind of the director only, in Matthias' opinion), meant that Noemie had been delayed while she put out the small fire and soothed the young director's angst. So he had driven up on ahead. It had taken all their considerable contacts and 'pull'(and really, how much 'pull' can people in the film industry have with the railway system?), to secure a place for her on an over-booked high speed train leaving Paris that would deposit her at a station in the foothills of the mountains and where she could board a train to this station. He knew she had been on the high speed train...they had texted several times. But phone service was wildly erratic, often non existent, on the second, mountainous part of the journey, which is why he kept checking his phone – to make sure he hadn't missed a text or call.
His focus on his phone was interrupted by the weight of a small child in full flight running into his leg. "Papa! Papa! See! Look, look!" his son Olivier demanded, jumping up and down and tugging at his father's pant leg. "Well, stop jumping and open your hand so I can see." He knelt down in front of his son who slowly...as if about to reveal Shakespeare's "pearl of great price"...opened his clenched fist to show a fairly grubby palm, where a few small pebbles nestled.
"Just rocks! Isn't it Papa?" demanded Olivier's twin, Chloe who had come to stand next to her father as he examined the boy's treasure. Olivier started to loudly protest this insult to his find, but Matthias quieted the both. "Perhaps," Matthias said, "but we should look closely, no?"
He put on his glasses and stared in intently into his son's palm. "This...and this too and yes, this as well are plain pebbles." His son's face fell as his sister uttered a triumphant, "seeeeee!." "But this," Matthias continued, pointing to a lighter colored sliver of something faintly tinged with blue, "this I think is something special." Olivier's face brightened. "What, Papa?" "I think it is a piece of a bird's shell. You know when the baby bird has to break his way out of the shell, so that someday he can fly? Well, this is part of that shell." "Oh," his son said softly. And promptly broke his father's heart with love. Matthias had come to understand that having his heart repeatedly broken by the sheer happiness of love, was a regular part of his new life with his new family.
"Oh...just a rock!" Chloe, ever the realist, protested. A lively round of "Is not/Is so" then ensued. Finally, Matthias said firmly. "Enough! You mother is coming and I won't have you squabbling when she gets here." "Mama is coming now?" Chloe wanted to be reassured. "See those lights down the track?" her father said, pointing. "That means her train is almost here." He took his children in hand, and moved them all further away from the track to avoid getting caught up in the modest crush of people moving closer to the platform's edge.
The train slowly slid into the station and began to disgorge its rumpled and weary passengers. Wives, children and nannies crowded around, claiming their city refugees. Mathias anxiously scanned the arrivals, looking for Noemie. She had occasionally, fallen asleep on trains and missed her stop. Once she even worked through her station. The lack of phone service to confirm that she had made the train had left him more than a little nervous, and he ignored his children's repeated, "Do you see Mama?" He could tell almost all the passengers had left the train, when suddenly he spotted her, (his heart giving a jump that had nothing to do with a medical condition), climbing down, with the help of not one, but two gallant gentlemen. She needed their help as she was juggling multiple packages and bags while, at the same time. clasping a large straw sun hat to her head. (Matthias had seen doorman's umbrellas that were smaller.) The children had spotted their mother almost as soon as he had and now broke loose, racing and pin balling between the remaining crowd and cannonading into Noemie, (as well as her startled escorts) with screams of delight.
Mathias strolled over while Noemie gathered her children to her with many hugs and kisses, dropped all the bags and packages, lost control of her hat, all while thanking her escorts, who backed off in something close to alarm at the onslaught. As Mathias drew closer to his family...this part of his family...he started to laugh; laugh from the sheer delight of seeing the joyous, sexy, smart bubble that was his Noemie and laugh at the unexpected and utterly impossible journey that brought them all to this time and place 'How on earth did I get here?' he wondered to himself.
"What are you laughing at?" asked Noemie, laughing as well and extricating herself from the children to embrace him, "Nothing." Mathias replied still smiling "And everything."
5 years earlier
As a man who was nearly pathologically opposed to exercise, Matthias had submitted to his doctor's...and Noemie's…. insistence that he incorporate some physical activity in his daily routine by walking between CAM's offices and the apartment. He made the trek, except in the worst weather, or when a screening called, almost every work day and found he came to enjoy, (though he would never admit as much), his pedestrian commute. And besides, with Paris traffic, he often found he was home more quickly than if he had driven. There were a few different routes he could choose, including the one he walked this evening, which took him through several small parks.
As he walked, he tried to work out why a growing sense of unease had begun to dog his steps...and his days. A frustrating and deeply puzzling sense because, in all aspects, his life had never been more satisfying. Noemie was beyond a treasure. She brought such joyous energy to their life together, and the fact that she returned his love, with all her mind and body still amazed him. What had started out as an infatuation on her part had, for both of them, deepened into a love both passionate and profound. As he once told Arlette, "She sees right through me and loves me anyway." Professionally, the production company they had started together was already...if not a major player...a respected and growing entity; the Bastille film percolating ever so slowly to completion. And Noemie's successful leadership was a source of deep pride.
As for CAM, it too was steadily beginning to find its legs and its' successes. Sofia's career was on a steady upward track, and if Herve's had sputtered a bit at first, it now showed signs of rekindling. Camille shone at her new position and showed ever more talent for the business as the client list grew. Mathias' relationship with his daughter was a source of great joy; albeit tinged with regret for all that they had missed of each other. Still, as he himself had said, you can't turn back time. Except maybe you could if you were Arlette who seemed wonderfully revitalized by her move to the new company. His own new clients included a very young but very talented writing duo who he was shepherding through the early stages of career building. He enjoyed it immensely. Hippolyte? Well, that was still a work in progress, but at least there WAS progress in repairing, perhaps re-creating a relationship with his son. And, to his great relief, he and Catherine had managed to come to a long distance truce...maybe even a peace pact...within which they exchanged news and insights about Hippolyte. As someone had said at the very end of ASK...it seemed his luck never ran out. He agreed.
So what was it then? This unnamed thing that tugged at him and, recently, even give him some restless nights.
Maybe it was the very complicated set of contracts CAM was now faced with; two of their actors, one of their writers and a director and actor from another agency all attached to the same high profile and high stakes project. It was a delicate dance, fraught with both pitfalls and challenges, but also presenting many intriguing opportunities for the kind of sleight of hand and manipulations he had been known for at ASK. But he had promised both Camille and himself that he would work her way at the new agency and so he held his tongue and other than insuring that the legal aspects of the various contract drafts were correct he tried very hard, (and it was hard), to stay out of Camille's way. He could see her adapting and learning as she went and if she occasionally put a step wrong, well, she had her own way of ultimately landing on her feet. Like father, like daughter..
The early spring air was warm and Mathias did something he rarely did on his commute home; he sat on a park bench...watching the world go by as he continued to try and chase down the source of his unease. It really was amazing, he thought to himself, the almost choreographed dance of those in the park; speeding bicyclists, strolling lovers, mothers and children, nannies pushing prams, joggers of all speeds and dog walkers of all skill levels at controlling their pets. They swooped and served and adjusted stride and pace; no one crashed...at least not yet.
It reminded him, he realized suddenly, of something Herve' had showed him a few weeks ago. He had burst into Mathias' office to show him something on his phone. Without exception Mathias HATED being shown things on someone else's phone. It was never anything remotely interesting to him and the parade of cute animals doing cute things left him...un-moved. Herve' knew this perfectly well of course, but, being Herve' he would not be put off.
"Really Mathias. You are positively antediluvium sometimes. At least try and enjoy SOME of the 21st century benefits. I think you will really like this. Now, here." Herve' placed the phone on Mathias desk and pushed play.
He didn't fully comprehend what he was seeing at first and then realized it was a kind of elaborate dominos set up. But not just any set up and not just dominoes. All manner of items came into play...soccer balls rolled down interlocking ramps, spoons tipped one to another, levers flipped and cups of water tipped. Weighted lines rose and fell, triggering tennis balls and ping pong balls and marbles on trips down still more ramps, nudging gears and wheels into action; on and on. And on. All in the service, after several minutes and more of this elaborate dance, of dropping a tiny pellet...at exactly the right moment… into a passing toy train's smoke stack. When it ended, Mathias was flabbergasted and could only stare at Herve' in amazement.
"Voila! I knew you would like it. A crazy chain reaction. In American….a Rube Goldberg device." Herve' swept up his phone and swept out of the office, tossing a 'ciao' over his shoulder as he left.
To his own surprise, Mathias almost ran after him so he could see this remarkable video again. But he didn't. Instead he reflected on what he had seen and why it had so enchanted him. He realized that the only thing that disappointed him about the video was that it ended. He could have watched the it forever had it gone on that long. Whoever had shot it was no auteur, but was wise enough to pull back from the action so that you could anticipate what was going to happen next...what was supposed to happen next…which switch would be flipped, what gear wheel would bounce down which ramp into what bucket which would pull what line. The overall effect was like an anticipated surprise that was still a surprise. He made a mental note to himself to track down more such videos and then promptly forgot about it.
But now, as he sat on the bench, he realized something more about that video...or, more accurately, his reaction to it. And an echo of a conversation he had had with Hicham as well. All his working life, and even as a child, the thing that fascinated Mathias more than anything was the strategy of moving pieces into place, setting them in motion and watching them fall where he had planned; chess and backgammon; even, he suddenly recalled, an ancient game he had retrieved from his grandparent's attic called, L'Attaque. So old it was nearly falling apart, he would badger or charm...whichever was required...everyone and anyone he could into playing with him – moving soldiers on squares to counter his opponent's every move and always be two moves ahead. Even occasional failures at these games intrigued him if they revealed something he had missed; an error in planning. No wonder he had been so mesmerized by the video….if he had known such a thing existed on such a large plane, he probably would be somewhere now, creating similar chain reactions.
His life hadn't turned that way of course. He had stumbled into the law, which mostly bored him, but then he had landed at ASK, and under Samuel's tutelage, very quickly found that the most satisfying pieces of all to move about were human beings; actors, directors, writers and producers, all positioned just so. And if some duplicity and manipulation was needed to get them all to move as he had planned, then so be it. For wasn't it all in the cause of furthering the cinema? Or, at the very least, careers?
No, it wasn't he acknowledged. Oh, of course he loved cinema and so much the better if his manipulations furthered an artists' vision or an actor's career. But the truth of it was, he did it mainly because he could; for the endless pleasure such strategies, finesse and even out right lies gave him as they played themselves out on the course he had set. Perhaps he had always known this or perhaps this self knowledge was part of new life; his new relationships. In either case, this realization sat on his chest nearly as heavily as the heart attack. Carefully, he took a few deep breaths. The weight on his chest eased but not the weight on his mind.
And suddenly the recent unease came into clearer focus; the large and complicated contract that Camille was working through. It wasn't just that is WAS a difficult job, it was how hard he was having to work to stay out of it. At least twice he had just stopped himself from giving his daughter unsolicited advice and more unnerving still was an idea he had toyed with to go behind her back and run a gambit on the other agency. He could see it all in his mind; how the pieces would fall into place, all landing, like that smoke pellet, perfectly in CAM's accounts. Worse still, just the idea of it gave him a troubling pleasure. Again, he had stopped himself, but he realized now the idea and its appeal was not truly in service of Camille or CAM...it was about him. And he also realized, even more chillingly, that he could not trust himself to always resist when the novelty of CAM's way of doing business wore off. He said to himself, but aloud, "I'm addicted," drawing startled stares from those passing close by. He hardly noticed; he was too busy trying to come to terms with the idea that he...or at least who he had always perceived himself to be… was not in as much control as he had thought; had always prided himself on. It was a profoundly unsettling thought leaving him stunned into inertia.
Finally, he got up, walked around the bench and sat down again. Breathing hard. Because if Herve' and his phone had walked in one door of his mind, Arlette now appeared in another. Arlette had taken on a young actress who had made a big splash on a soap opera. She saw more talent in the youngster than a soap opera had room for and quickly signed her. One day recently the young actress and her mother had been leaving after a meeting with Arlette. The younger woman was dressed simply in the standard teen issue of jeans and an oversize jacket but the mother had appeared in tights, knee high boots and a stupendously loud leopard print coat. ("Faux, I hope." Camille's assistant had murmured fervently.) As the two women passed between Mathias and Arlette, she looked at him, laughed, and whispered "Ah, here I thought no leopard could change his spots… but you are the exception to the rule, no?"
Mathias had just laughed and hadn't made anything of the moment. But now, sitting on this bench he knew with a stomach souring certainty that he was just like any other leopard; he couldn't change his spots. Not for long.
It took he and his suddenly sour stomach a while to digest this unpleasant insight. He knew he should get up and continue on home. Noemie would be starting to worry...she worried so much about him and his heart. So finally he stood and resumed his commute, taking more deep breaths to clear his mind as well as his chest and stomach. Slowly, as he walked, he came to the painful realization that though this leopard couldn't change his spots, he did have an option; he could leave the jungle. He could leave CAM. Just the thought made him stop dead in his tracks; stunned into stillness by the clarity of his realization. He walked on again.
If...when ...he left CAM, what on earth could he possibly tell Camille and, for that matter, Noemie? To abandon his daughter now….again...seemed unbearably cruel...for both of them. But to stay on, knowing his weakness could destroy...perhaps permanently... the relationship they had been able to build together, crueler still. Still, he had to find a way. And he would start with Noemie. As he drew closer to their apartment he began to consider what seemed to be the professionally empty existence looming before him. "Well, maybe I can seek my fame and fortune building"...he had to search for the American for a moment..."Rube Goldberg Machines" he thought with a bemused if worried smile.
When he opened to the door to the apartment, Noemie almost knocked him over with a relieved and very enthusiastic embrace. "Where have you BEEN?" she demanded. "Why didn't you call?"
"I am not that late," he protested. But then said with a smile and a kiss, "But I am sorry I didn't call." He shrugged out of his coat. "I just decided to sit in the park a while...no I wasn't tired or out of breath...and do some people watching."
Noemie was mollified but suspicious. "You have never been a people watcher." she pointed out, watching him closely.
"I am many things that I was not before you, my darling," he said, pulling her back close. "Now, what smells so good? Which wine shall I open?"
They made it through a delicious dinner ...Noemie insisted on cooking for them whenever she got home early enough….before she she reached across and gave a a lock of Mathias' hair a firm tug. "What?" she asked softly.
"What,?" he parroted back, a little startled.
"I asked first," she pointed out. "And I know there is something bothering you. Are you well?" she asked, suddenly anxious again. "Did you see the doctor?"
"No, no...you have to stop worrying so much. It's not good for you. And the doctor said I will be fine if I follow their boring rules...which I am...mostly." He gave her his most charming smile, but she was not convinced or deterred.
"There is something wrong," she said shrewdly. "I know it and don't bother to deny it; it will only waste time."
Mathias sighed, defeated, but almost grateful for the loss. But also unsure how to begin. With Rube Goldberg devices or leopards? After a moment he decided to start in the middle. "Do you remember the contract I was telling you about? The one involving two agencies?"
"Yes of course," Noemie said. "Is it going badly?"
"No, no...Camille is handling it well. Very well."
"Then…?"
Mathias leaned forward and poured himself some more wine, ignoring Noemie's raised eyebrows. "Its just so hard to explain." He shook his head in frustration. Another sip, another deep breath and he plunged in. "Several times now, I have been tempted to step in, even though no one has asked me."
"But you haven't." It was almost as much a question as a statement.
"No. Not yet. But it is getting harder. I can see in my mind's eye exactly what I could….would do. The plots and even traps I would lay. So..." he sought for the right word before settling on "elegant."
"Well, of course; you want CAM's clients to get the best deal and CAM to succeed. "
"Yes I do. But those are not the only reasons...not even the most important reasons… for me."
"No...what do you mean?"
"In the hospital you told me you fell in love with me despite my ruthlessness and my machinations because they were all in the cause of furthering artists' visions. That was … kind. But we both know it wasn't...isn't..true. Hadn't been 100% true for a long time."
She started to protest. But he went on. "I did those things mostly because I could and because ...because it gives me pleasure… a strange thrill. Seeing if I can fool or maneuver people into where I think they should be. It was a game I played for my clients but it was also to further my own ends. And in the end it become all about protecting my own interests. I lost sight of why I was even playing the game," he said ruefully.
"But all agents...well, even if they don't out right lie….they shade the truth...for the good of the clients or the film."
"Not like me...not the things I did. Some of it was for a genuine love of ASK, that's true. Its' funny", he said shaking his head again, "no matter how angry or frustrated or even jealous I was of Andrea or Gabriel or even Arlette at times, I could never shake my love of ASK. When I said I would leave for Star Media, the instant I agreed my heart sank, and when the move fell through I was so relieved. But even what I did for that love...all the betrayals and big and small lies, that was still for me as well...for my ambition, for my need to manipulate others."
He had been staring into his wine glass but now looked directly at Noemie. "When everything blew up...when they found out that I had tipped off the Americans and when I told them that I knew Gabriel and Andrea had planned to leave, Camille confronted me. She said she was so sick of all of our backstabbing. All of us. But then she said, "But the thing that hurts me most is that I think you love it." She was right," he added softly. "I do love it."
"So what can you do? Wait! I know...we can consult the I Ching!" She started to get up, but he pulled her gently back.
"I don't believe in the I Ching. I never did."
She was indignant. "But what about…."
"I believed… believe... in you." He kissed her hand.
"You have decided something, haven't you?" she asked after a moment.
He nodded and looked at her with a bleak smile. "I am going to leave CAM."
Noemie, gasped. "You can't!"
"I have to," he said sadly. "Its the only way to save Camille and CAM and even me...from...well ... me."
He took another sip of wine. "I can stay on as their lawyer. Making sure all the legal details are correct. That way they won't have the extra expense. But for the rest? Fini. I can't very well take myself off to another agency without taking the same risks with me."
"But then, you can work with me. We founded our company together after all. You will just step back in."
Mathias just shook his head. "Too many temptations. Slightly different maybe, but still too many."
He smiled at Noemie...a rueful smile but still a smile. "I hope you don't mind supporting me. I'll be a kept man. What an enchanting opportunity." He forced the smile a little more.
Noemie was near tears. "There MUST be another way."
But he shook his head. "What I can't even think about facing at this point is talking to Camille. What can I possibly tell her?"
After the initial shock, Noemie didn't hesitate. "The truth. Just as you have told me. There have been too many deceptions in your lives already."
Mathias just nodded.
"And soon," Noemie added. "The longer you put it off the worse it will be – for both of you."
And so it was decided to invite Camille for dinner on a night the following week when her current boyfriend would be conveniently unavailable. After dinner, Noemie would excuse herself for some work she had to catch up on.
Which is how Mathias found himself sitting across from his daughter as the two nursed after dinner brandies. During dinner Noemie effortlessly kept the conversation going but now, as the two sat alone, Mathias found he had no words that didn't stick in his throat.
Finally Camille said, "Is everything all right? You barely said anything at dinner and you hardly touched your food. Do you feel ok?"
"I'm fine! You're as bad as Noemie!" he said with more vehemence than he intended. He apologized immediately. "I'm sorry. It's just that it does get a little tiring having people always assuming the worst of your health."
Camille smiled at him, "Yeah, I can see that. Sorry."
"No...its all right...its nice to be worried about. To a certain extent." he added with a laugh.
"Still," she said, looking at him seriously, "Something's up."
A deep breath. "I will be leaving CAM in the next few weeks. Maybe even sooner."
Camille was so stunned she couldn't speak at first; finally standing and managing to come out with a disjointed series of questions and protests, each one tumbling on the other; "But why? It's all been going so well. Are you sick? Is it your heart? Your new clients? We've all been so HAPPY there. Did I do something...it is me…?" Those and a dozen other baffled expressions spilled out before she finally stuttered to a teary- eyed stop.
Gently, he sat her down next to him on the sofa.
"You have been nothing but superb as the boss of CAM….and as a daughter. And it isn't my heart...not the way you mean, anyway,"
"Then what?" she pleaded.
And so he explained; explained about leopards and spots, dominos and addiction and mostly of his own mistrust. Of himself. "You were right when you said you weren't sure I could change."
"But that's not true." Camille protested, when he paused. "You HAVE changed. I can tell. And if there is an old saw about leopards not be able to change their spots isn't there also one about old dogs learning new tricks? And you aren't even that old!"
Mathias laughed at the 'that' - nodding a thank you. "Perhaps that is true too, but eventually the newness of a different way of working will wear off and even," he looked at his daughter earnestly, "the charm of working your way with you, will fade. And I think the expression is that old dogs CAN'T learn new tricks. And even if they do for a while, well, leopards eat old dogs."
Camille stood up and walked away from him. "This can't be happening. It's not fair!" But then she stopped herself. "As if ''fair' ever came into it," she added bitterly.
Mathias winced at that. "I'm sorry" was all he could manage.
Camille turned to face him, "No, I'm sorry...really. I didn't mean that. I sound like a 6 year old. Maybe 5."
Mathias rose and took his daughter by the shoulders. "At whatever age, it's the truth. There was much that was unfair in your life. And a lot of it was due to me. I can't change that. All I can do is try not to disappoint and hurt you any more."
"But THIS hurts." she said softly.
"I know...me as well...but better like this than the pain later."
She folded herself into his arms. "When?" she whispered into his shirt front.
"Two weeks, I think," he said disengaging himself from the embrace, leading her to the home office with a calendar laid out. "I will still be CAM's lawyer," he assured her, "you can send me the contracts to review. I think Arlette might do well with my young writers?" Camille nodded in agreement. "As for the others, I know you and Arlette will handle them well. You should use Helene more...she is almost as good an assistant as you were. And it's not like at ASK, you know," he reminded her. "Its not like I am taking a lot of clients with me. CAM is all about young talent. YOUR young talent."
Camille sighed. "You are going to have to tell Arlette."
"Ah, that I am not so worried about. She will understand very well. She has known me a long time."
"Well, what about other people...clients and producers, casting agents and other talent agents!?"
Mathias thought about that for a moment. And then said, with what was his first genuine smile in quite a while, "I'll tell them I am leaving for my health."
The next two weeks passed in a flurry of office clean-ups and clean outs, loose ends and explanations. Mathias had been right about Arlette. When he told her, privately, about his plan to leave, giving a somewhat edited version of his reasoning, she had just nodded and then, eyeing him in that way of hers, simply said, "Well, maybe leopards can't change their spots, but at least they always protect their young."
Herve' and Sophia were puzzled by this development and, in must be said, a little suspicious of Mathias. But when Camille gave them her version, Herve' said, "Well, it sounds crazy...so it probably makes sense," with Sofia nodding in agreement.
As word of Mathias' decision to leave CAM became known, there was deep skepticism from those who had known him at ASK. At their weekly lunch, where Andrea had the benefit Arlette's version of Mathias's version of his reasons for leaving, Andrea shook her head. "OK, I can believe he has changed. And yes, maybe there was a lot of ...well...mutual mistrust in the past. But changed THAT much...to stop being an agent to protect Camille from what he MIGHT do in the future? I don't buy it. Nobility is not in his blood." Arlette merely shrugged. "Maybe so. But he is not going to another agency. Why else would he leave?" And neither one had an answer to that.
When Camille told her mother, on the other hand, Annick was indignant. "He's just deserting you again! I don't know why you ever trust him!" It took Camille some time to get her mother to see that Mathias' actions in this case at least, actually were unselfish. "And don't worry, CAM is doing very well...we will be fine." Adding so softly that her mother didn't hear, "I just hope Papa is."
As he put the last of his office boxes on a table at home, Mathias hoped so too. Facing the next week, months, several months, perhaps years of a blank calendar was now a reality...not an abstraction. And no idea he had pondered...from the law to Rube Goldberg construction...had struck him with any degree of either plausibility or attraction. He truly had NO idea what to do with the rest of his life. It was a very unsettling feeling. Putting a handful of almonds and walnuts… some of the "oleaginous fruits" his doctor had recommended, in a dish, he was in the middle of opening a bottle of red wine when he heard Noemie's key in the lock.
He went to he foyer to greet her. "You are early. I thought you had a meeting with the France 2 people this afternoon? Drinks at Cafe' Chat?" He leaned in to kiss her, but stopped himself. "You look tired, do you feel okay?"
She put down her bag and shrugged off her coat. "I am ok...but I will admit, I am tired. That is why I put off the meeting." With a sigh she sat in one of the chairs in the hall...not even making it to the living room or kitchen.
Mathias studied her critically. "Hmmm...what you need is a hot meal. Something to put the roses back in your cheeks. I'm cooking," he announced as she took his hand. He was no where near as sanguine as he sounded.
"Don't look so worried," she said, smiling up at him. "I am fine, really."
"Oh you're the only one who gets to worry"? He teased. But she only smiled at him again, this time a little more wanly.
"You know, I am really not very hungry. I think I would just rather lie down for a while. There is leftover chicken if you don't want to bother to cook," she called over her shoulder as she made her way to their bedroom.
Mathias trailed after her and spread a blanket on her as she sank with a sigh onto the bed. "Go, go," she said, shooing him away. "I just need to rest for a while."
Mathias was truly worried...perhaps more than he should be, he told himself. After all, even Noemie, who had more energy than any three people he had ever known, was entitled to be tired once in a while. So, he tried to calm his fears; eating the nuts and a bit of chicken and sipping wine, while alternately flipping through the tv channels and some of the files he had brought home with him. Every once in a while he went in to check on her, but she always seemed to be sleeping soundly and he was relieved to see that her color looked better than when she had first come home.
After a while, just as he was kicking himself for leaving some important legal documents at CAM, he heard her up and moving around. She came out of the master bath just as he walked into the bedroom. And now he was truly alarmed, because she looked even paler.
"Noemie. Please What is it?"
"I'm pregnant," she said, sounding stunned and holding up a white stick which, he could see, even at a distance, displayed a very definite plus sign. She sat down heavily on the bed.
He was nearly as stunned as she was and went quickly to sit next to her. He put his arm around her and she leaned against his shoulder. "Maybe it's a false positive?" he offered.
"No...this is the second one. I took the first one at the office today. That's why I came home early. That AND being tired."
Neither one of them said anything. Finally Noemie said, very softly, "I'm sorry I must have forgotten to take,.."
But he interrupted her, "Why should you be sorry, all by yourself? I was there too. I was, wasn't I?" he asked with his most Mathias sly grin.
She punched him… none too gently...on his arm and didn't dignify the comment with a response. "Still," she said, "this, (she held up the test), was not exactly in our 5 year plan."
"You make us sound like the Politburo."
"But I will take care of it," she said firmly. "You won't have to worry…. You won't have to do anything."
Now it was Mathias' turn to look indignant and slightly hurt. "What do you mean? Of course I will worry, of course I will do...well..whatever you need me to do. You do NOT have to 'take care of it alone. I am here too."
"Oh, that's good... very good" she said, leaning into him more heavily.
When they went to bed that evening, Mathias was a bit surprised but pleased that Noemie drifted off to sleep almost immediately. He, on the other hand, was as wide awake as a five year old on Christmas Eve. But this was hardly Christmas. His mind chased after so many rabbiting fears and unknowns that he struggled to keep from tossing and turning. Finally, in order not to disturb Noemie, he slipped out of bed and made his way into the kitchen. He poured the last of the wine and wandered back into the living room fulling intending to turn on the tv. But he didn't. He just sat there, trying to let his mind chase itself into exhaustion. His mind didn't cooperate.
He and Noemie had never even discussed the possibility of children… because, well, it just did not seem even remotely on their radar. But, really, did he KNOW that...did he know how Noemie felt? Or had he just assumed it; assumed it with a certain amount of relief, given his own history of parenting? He pondered that for awhile, but then decided, no; Noemie was not a person to hide either her feelings or her desires. Certainly not about something as important as children. This he knew from all sorts of personal experiences with her. All right then, it was just an accident. And despite the cliché of there not being any accidents, there were...and this was one of them. So, the only thing now was to support Noemie in whatever she wanted to do. He felt reasonably confident she would want to terminate the pregnancy; her burgeoning career scarcely left room for child care. Look at what had happened to Andrea. And she had, at least in the beginning, a partner to help her. But the work eventually pulled it all apart. No, the kind of career Noemie had embarked was not child friendly. And she truly loved her work, that he knew well.
So, his job, he thought, as he brought the wine glass into the kitchen was to be there for her; to hold her hand, to go through it all with her, as much as he could. After all, he had been teasing, but he was indeed as much a….Mathias' thoughts silently screeched to a halt. This pregnancy was his too. And the strangest thought of all landed in the middle of his muddled mind. Noemie's career was thriving and his was, to be kind, in limbo, and so….?
He spun around in the kitchen. He wished he hadn't finished the wine earlier. So he got out the Scotch. He shook his head as if to shake the possibilities away. Him? Raise a child. Him? A father who had abandoned one child and done an emotionally distant and fraught job with the other? Him? Who didn't even much like being around children, or vice versa. Just ask Audrey Fleurot and her children. And yet, when he cast his mind back to his too infrequent visits with Camille when she was small, he couldn't help but remember the utter joy he felt just from holding her hand as they walked to the beach and the warm weight of her against his shoulder as he carried her home. And Hippolyte too...when he was a young boy; a boy who bounced with delight when his father came home from work; a boy who looked back at him with total trust as he pushed him off for his first solo bike ride. And something suddenly became clear to to him; it was when Annick told him to stop seeing Camille, (and she was justified to do so), that he began, in ways both large and small, to shut himself off from Hippolyte as well.
It was too much. He felt overwhelmed by memory, regret, loss and yet...possibility.
Were all these memories that were flooding back to him of happy and wonderful moments with his children so much sentimental pap that he was deluding himself with? Him, as Camille, among others, had called him, "a coward and a liar," - did he have a right to even consider what he was thinking...what he himself could hardly articulate even to himself; that he would raise he and Noemie's child. HE would be the primary care giver? It was crazy. Wasn't it?
His heart attack had left him exhausted. Much more than he had ever admitted, even to Noemie. Though he was sure she suspected. And not a little frightened. She probably suspected that as well. By the time he turned producers' duties over to Noemie, it was in as much relief as confidence and pride. But that had passed. Working at CAM had energized him. The daily mini battles over contracts and actors and writers and all the pieces moving into place had fanned the flame in him. He felt stronger and more vigorous than he had in years. Could that energy possibly be turned to raising a child?
Before he had the heart attack he had scoffed at the idea that people often re-assed their lives after skating close to the edge. And, his condition wasn't even all that severe. Oh, enough to land him in the hospital for a few days but most of that was for monitoring, not treatment. And yet, he would have to acknowledge that since that night when he and the cobblestones came so unexpectedly together, he HAD, in ways both large and small, at the very least, viewed his past in a different light. And, much that he saw made him wince in something between embarrassment profound regret.
After a while, he stood up, padded back into the bedroom and slipped in beside Noemie, who still slept soundly. Surprisingly, now, so did he.
The next morning she was up before him and already making coffee when he went to the kitchen. "You look better," he offered a little tentatively.
"I feel better," she announced firmly. "I always do when I have a plan."
"A plan?"
"Yes. I can't deci...move forward... until I know for sure that I am pregnant. Those tests can be wrong. Unlikely, but possible. I already have an appointment with my doctor and once I know...if I know...well then I ...we...can make a decision."
He nodded. "Of course...that makes sense."
She smiled and came to stand close to him. "I'm sorry you were so worried." She laughed a little. "Now I know how you feel when I am worried about you." She reached up and cupped his face lovingly. "But it will be alright, I promise you."
"Of course it will," he agreed, kissing her..
After she left, bustling out the door and promising to call him as soon as she knew anything, Mathias went back into the bedroom and just sat, staring at his coffee cup. What an idiot...what a delusional idiot, he thought. He couldn't think of a worse candidate for fatherhood. Not only was there his past poor performances, he was also too damn old AND had a heart condition that made his remaining time on the planet more unpredictable than most. Which could leave Noemie alone AND with child to raise. God, WHAT had he been thinking?
He put down the cup and headed into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping the hot water would pound such idiocy out of him and realism in. Which, it pretty much did. When he emerged, he busied himself with the CAM files and made phone calls to old colleagues explaining his new status. The hardest ones were the few actors and writers that had been with him since his earliest days at ASK. Not big stars perhaps, but steadily working professionals. He encouraged them to stay with CAM, promising that Camille would take good care of them, even if they weren't exactly 'young talent.' And if that wasn't comfortable for them, he suggested they call Gabriel at Star Media. Someone they at least knew.
What with one thing and another he had successfully passed the time when Noemi called. Her voice was soft on the phone. "So, yes."
There was a long pause. So long that Noemie had to ask, "Are you still there?"
"Yes, of course," Mathias said quickly. "Come home and we can talk."
"I'm in the car now. I'll be there is 10 minutes."
10 minutes during which which Mathias mind went completely blank.
Noemie came in and put down her things with a sigh. She embraced Mathias briefly and then went into the kitchen. "So," she said, turning to face him, "It might be that I am a little further along than I thought. When I talked to my doctor and looked at the calendar, well some things fell into place." She poured herself a glass of the wine Mathias had opened earlier. "But it not TOO late," she assured him, "Not even that close. But it is just a little too late for a medical termination...it will be surgical. So, of course, I made the appointment for as soon as possible...early next week." She raised the wine glass to take a sip, but Mathias gently took the glass from her and put it down.
"I want you to have the baby." Mathias was nearly as surprised as Noemie to hear the words out loud. "I know I have no right to ask. Me of all people. You will have your career, I will be the parent at home. Whatever you...we... decide..I will be there with you. It is your body, your life, your decision... I know I have no right to ask," he repeated, "but I am asking." All of his words spilling out so fast they hardly made sense to him. Or to Noemie. She stared at him as if he had announced plans for interstellar travel. "Just think about it?" he added, softly.
"Are you…? She eyed the wine bottle critically. "How much have you had to drink?" She scanned for the Scotch bottle as well.
He shook his head. "No, no...I may not be sane to ask, but I am sober. Its just that...well...look...your career is...well, you already are a wonderful producer and someday soon you will be among the most important and powerful producers in France...in Europe. Oh, many things can happen of course, but we both know that is the path you are on. As for me... my career path has just ended and there is nothing I can think of that appeals to me the way what I have been doing does. Except maybe this." He shook his head. "I'm sorry...I know I am not making very much sense."
"No, you are not," Noemie responded, but not angrily; simply baffled.
He tried again, more coherently, he hoped. "I am selfish. I know...you know that about me. And I selfishly want to have a chance to redeem my past failures. I can't make up to Camille and Hippolyte for the ways I let them down. But...if you let me...I could try to do it right."
"But Mathias," Noemie said, not unkindly, "there are so many things...so many reasons...we shouldn't have a baby. There is your heart condition and your age and MY age."
"Yes," he agreed. "I've thought of that, and more. I also don't know if I would be any good at it."
"Well," Noemie said, a little distractedly, "I don't think ANYONE really knows that, no matter what their circumstances."
"Tell me," he said, taking her hand. "Did you ever want to have children?
She thought a moment. "Well, of course, when I was young, I assumed that children would be part of my life...my future...but it just never worked out...the time or the person." She paused and shook her head. "Listen, Mathias...this has all been, well, really a shock. Of all the things that have occurred to me over the last few days, honestly this was not one of them. I need time to let jt sink in."
"Of course," he agreed quickly. "I made a lentil soup. And got a fresh baguette. And some macaroons," he added with a smile.
They ate, mostly in a thoughtful silence, and went to bed early after watching their favorite; an utterly inane tv show that inexplicably made them both laugh.
It took Mathias a while to go to sleep. Noemie too, but eventually Mathias heard her snoring gently and soon after, he slept as well.
Slept until he was startled awake by Noemie shaking his shoulder and calling his name. "What..." he said blinking the sleep away, "are you all right.?"
"Yes, yes, but now listen..." she was kneeling facing him wearing only the flimsiest of negliges', which clung and more than hinted at every curve. Light spilling from the living room provided an even more revealing backlight.
Mathias pushed himself into a sitting position and cleared his throat. "If you expect me to listen...to anything at all...you are going to have to put on more clothes."
She gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at him. "Really!" But she found her robe and put it on and sat next to him. Then she grabbed, her lap top and placed it where they could both see it. "I have been doing research...now see...this is what we are...well, what we might have to consider. First I looked at actuarial tables for our probable life spans….what are you laughing at?"
"Nothing, Really," Mathias said, laughing, getting his glasses from the bedside table.
Noemie was not deterred. "Now see..even with your heart condition ….you should have a good 22 to 25 years more, minimum. And me...well, more like 35. Of course, anything can happen at anytime, but those are the averages."
"Very comforting," Mathias said, biting his cheeks. Noemie ignored him.
"Now this," she clicked the next page, "are my chances of dying in childbirth or just from the pregnancy itself. As you can see they are infinitesimally small."
Mathias wasn't laughing anymore.
"Still," she went on calmly, "it is another factor to consider." She clicked to the next page.
"And here is the chances of pregnancy complications for a woman my age. And fetal and birth abnormalities. You can see...it is higher than for a younger woman but still not very high."
Mathias shook his head trying to chase away the last of sleep. "Wait, are you saying that you are actually considering having the baby?"
Noemie didn't say anything for a moment, but finally pushed the lap top aside, and turned to face him directly. "You see, when I said one of the reasons I didn't have children was that I never met the right person, I should have added, 'until now."
If it was possible to feel dizzy while sitting down, that is what Mathias felt.
He reached for her but after one kiss she pushed him back. "But we have a LOT more to research to do... and talk about." she said firmly.
And then the two went on to create what Noemie cheerfully referred to as their 'non action action plan.' - complete physical check-ups for both of them, with special emphasis on the state of Mathias' heart, to make sure her actuarial analysis was correct; an understanding that if, at any point, Noemie's or fetal health was in jeopardy they would re-asses and Noemie would have the final say. Noemie had already done research on working mothers and infants. "I probably should take 6 months off," she said frowning a little, "but realistically, I think it will be closer to 3...maybe 4."
They put off the most difficult conversations until the next day and the days immediately after. 'What if he changed his mind?' As Noemie pointed out..."We can't exactly send the baby back and this isn't like an actor you have gotten bored with representing and can pawn off on another agent. I don't want my child raised by a series of nannies and au pairs. So if you back out, then I will have to quit work."
"...and you will not be happy with that," Mathias finished for her.
"More than just 'not happy.'" Noemie said quietly, looking earnestly at him.
He nodded. "I can't answer that. Except that ever since I have thought about this possibility it is like"...he groped for an analogy…."like in music, when a note falls in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. Maybe even like that smoke pellet I told you about."
The next evening Noemie said quietly. "It seems to me that raising a child… especially at your age...would be at least as stressful as being a producer. In fact," she said in some surprise, "it really IS being a producer."
"Really? I think you are the producer in this...and in almost all cases. I see myself more in the director's role." he said with a smile. But then added, more soberly, "Believe me, I don't WANT to kill myself with this or any other stress. But honestly, I can't imagine it would be any worse than juggling crazy actors and contracts and scripts and schedules and all that I used to do."
"But different." Noemie pointed out. "A different kind of stress."
"Well, yes," he admitted.
"I know! You should call Andrea!"
Mathias just looked at her with an expression that indicated how little he felt for this idea.
"Collette then!" Same expression, slightly modified.
"Audrey Fleurot! I know she is back from Belgium where she was shooting that little indy film."
This drew a reluctant 'maybe' from Mathias.
"Call her." Noemie commanded firmly. "And soon."
Which is how, a day later, Mathias found himself in Audrey Fleurot's kitchen again. This time there was an au pair...a pleasant faced young woman from Switzerland. Audrey's daughter still looked at him warily, but her son, who had no memories of tax accountants, or Russian billionaires, or pole dancing lessons to traumatize him, shyly greeted him with a wave.
"Mathias!" Audrey said, giving him an enthusiastic hug. "It is so good to see you. I worried about you after all that business at ASK."
"Are you all right at Star Media?" He inquired. "Are they taking good care of you?"
"Its fine," she said ushering him into the living room. "Sometimes I even see Gabriel there. But it's not the same. I really do miss you," she said looking at him earnestly.
"And I you." he acknowledged. "But I am out of the agent business for good. I have even left CAM."
"I heard that," she said frowning at him. "And I was surprised."
"Me too." he laughed. "It's complicated, but honestly, it is for the best. For everyone. It really is."
"If you say so," she said looking at him dubiously, as they sat on the couch. "But if this is not about business, why are you here? You were very mysterious on the phone. Not that I mind seeing you for….whatever!" she hastened to add.
"In fact," he said, rather sheepishly, "I have come to ask for you advice. Well, not advice exactly, more like information." She looked more puzzled. "About parenting." he added.
Audrey's eye opened wide in astonishment. "You? And Noemie?!"
"Well, yes, maybe..its also a little compli…." he started to say before Audrey nearly jumped into his lap for another hug.
"That is marvelous!"
Mathias nodded. "I hope so," he said, meaning it. "But I also know that I have quite a few handicaps going into the parenting business. I wasn't being modest when I told you I hadn't been a good father; its the truth. And, well, if this all works out, I will be the primary care giver so that Noemie can continue her career."
Audrey's eyes opened even wider. "But that is wonderful! How….brave of you."
Mathias had to laugh at that. "Perhaps, but that is why I wanted to talk to you more about what it was like for you raising your two so often by yourself. I remember you said how exhausted you were, but more, how no matter how much you gave you said it was never enough."
She nodded at the memory. "Yes, and you agreed with me. But of course, you won't be quite so foolish as I was about getting help. Will you?" She questioned, noting Mathias ambiguous expression.
"Maybe, but in the beginning at least, I really would like to try and do it on my own. It seems important. Especially for me."
"Wow." she said. And they both laughed.
Audrey took a deep breath. "Well, you remember what it was like here. I mean...chaos, really. Babies are essentially little cheese factories...milk goes down and cheese or yoghurt comes up. And the green shit that comes out the other end! And even when they get a bit older, I was exhausted. Sort of permanently. Even when my husband came home from shooting his documentaries, he tried to help, he really did, but..." she shrugged. "They do drain every thing you have and more. I think the sleep deprivation was the worse. After a while you begin to forget how to make complete sentences and your vocabulary shrinks to three letter words only."
Mathias could feel himself going pale as his mind flashed on memories of Hippolyte's infancy; of sleepless nights and dirty diapers and the sense that his home was being ruled by a tiny tyrant. And how he took full, and only slightly guilty advantage of Catherine as care giver. His expression...or complexion...must have given him away, because Audrey laughed and said, "I assumed you wanted the truth." Mathias nodded a little bleakly.
"But" she said, "here is the other part of the truth." She put her hand on his arm. "Through all the exhaustion and spit up and crying jags...their's and mine...and a million daily disasters, there was this … the only way I can describe it...a kind of centering. I never felt so connected to myself, to them, and even something beyond that...and there was a kind of joy that I had never experienced. A joy I felt so deeply that it seemed strong enough to support us all." She laughed again. "When I was awake enough to feel it, that is"
Mathias didn't say anything. He looked a little stunned, as he struggled to remember if he had ever reached that point when Hippolyte was very young. She looked at him quizzically. "Oh dear, I hope I haven't totally terrified you?"
He shook his head with a wry smile. "No, but you have given me a lot to think about. Its odd though...when you were talking about the joy? I can't claim to have experienced that...not the way you did. But once in a great while, when I was with Hippolyte or Camille I had just flashes of it...the kind of joy that reaches all the way into you." He rolled his eyes and said, "I can't believe I just said that," he said, looking both astonished at himself and a little embarrassed.
Audrey shook her head. "No, no! I can believe that," she said, "despite your own harsh critique of your past parenting. And I'll tell you something else, Mathias, I think that joy is there for both men and woman...it isn't a male/female thing. It is a human thing. And whatever you and Noemie decide, I wish you luck. And joy!"
When Mathias told Noemie of his conversation with Audrey Fleurot, she asked him directly, "Did it scare you?"
"A little," admitted, "And I remember what I was like dealing with Audrey when her children was small. I was always impatient and exasperated with her. But even though I wasn't really paying attention the way I should have been, I could see how hard it was on her."
"And?"
"And I still want to go ahead. If you do," he hastened to add. "Maybe I am delusional but I think I can do it...I don't think I know..." he revised in mid sentence. "Because, even though I was not a good father to Hippolyte, that was mostly as he grew older ... and of course, Catherine did so much... but I am not totally inexperienced. After all, it's not like it's never been done before...even by men." he added with a smile.
A few days later, Mathias met with his cardiologist. If she was surprised at his reason for requesting an early check up, she didn't show it. (She was the same doctor Mathias had in the hospital and was, he had decided, a woman who had seen a great deal of the world and the people in it and wasn't surprised ...or impressed... with either.) She had quickly ordered tests though and reviewing them with him acknowledged, "Everything looks as it should." Then she put aside her tablet and papers and looked directly at him. "Of course, it is more the stress than your age," she said bluntly. "You were fortunate that your heart suffered only minor damage last year. But raising children is probably one of the most stressful things humans do. Physically and emotionally demanding in the extreme." She gave a wry smile. "Still. Though there are no guarantees, Mons. Barneville, from this check up I would say that there are no red flags either. I wish you well."
Noemie passed all her physical exams and tests with equally high marks and so the two tried to brace themselves for their immediate future; an office became a nursery, a small bathroom was expanded and the apartment filled with baby clothes, toys and accoutrements. When word got out that Noemie was pregnant and their somewhat unusual plans for child rearing...and in their business, word of anything always got around...there was astonishment and not a little disbelief from colleagues and even family. Camille and Hippolyte texted like mad with each other. "Has he gone crazy?" Hippolyte demanded from the Croatian set of his latest film. "He fucked up twice already and now he wants to do it again!? Plus, he's too OLD!" "Oh c'mon. Give him SOME credit." Camille texted back. "He took himself out of a job he loves, mostly to protect me. And I know he has been trying with you." If there was a 'grudging' emoji, Hippolyte would have used it in reply. "Well, maybe." "Hey, are you jealous?" Camille teased. Hippolyte's response was unprintable but also included both a 'rolling eye' and a smile emoji.
When Andrea heard, once over her shock, she told Collette, "I give him 10 days...2 weeks, tops." When she heard they were expecting twins she nearly dropped a bottle of wine, and revised her opinion. "5 days, at most."
But the news of twins, (which left Mathias and Noemie stunned into silence while the doctor breezily assured them that this was no problem and was not uncommon in "the older mother"), was virtually the only unexpected twist on their road. Noemie's pregnancy was notable for how relatively easy it was. All her pre-natal tests and visits came back as completely normal on all fronts. An intense, but very brief bout of morning sickness was followed by a few weeks of cravings for pistachios and pickled beets, among other delicacies, which was followed by moderately swollen ankles and feet, which was followed by a dash to the hospital at the civilized hour of 10 AM in a gentle snow storm, and the emergence some 90 minutes later of first Chloe and then Olivier, red-faced and vocalizing their outrage at such an abrupt change of venue.
The first weeks home with the babies were a stew of exhaustion, chaos and joy. Gradually they were able to settle into a routine. A routine that benefitted hugely from having both parents home full time. Their lives revolved totally around the twins, and other than visits from Camille, Herve, Sofia, and a very few others, including Audrey Fleurot, they lived in a cocoon woven from diapers, onesies, bulletins from Noemie's office, contracts from CAM and sleepless nights. But, as the day drew closer for Noemie to return to work, they we blessed with one other piece of extraordinarily good luck...at a mere 3 months and 3 weeks, the babies began sleeping though the night; clocking 6-8 hours and giving Mathias and Noemie a chance to re-group.
Of course, another crisis immediately appeared when Noemie made her actual return to work. Even though she went into the office only part time for the first two weeks, the twins made their displeasure at the change in their lives loudly and persistently known, with most of it directed at their father. Still, after not that long, they did adjust and relative peace was restored. And Mathias was true to his determination to do the work of parenting himself. No nannies or au pairs darkened their door.
Except...and here is where Magdalene entered all of their lives…in the matter of laundry. Mathias was first astonished and then overwhelmed by the vast amount of dirty laundry two such small individuals could and did generate. He felt like Sysyphus. But instead of pushing a rock up a hill over and over, he was pushing a giant boulder of laundry. All. The. Time. Bemoaning this fact to Audrey Fleurot, she immediately responded with Magdalene's phone number. "She is a bit...well..gruff...but she is a magician with laundry. I think she meant to retire, but you should try her, because even if she has, maybe she can recommend someone else." Dutifully and a bit desperately Mathias made the call and 2 days later Magdalene appeared. She was almost as wide as tall and wore her steel gray hair in an elaborate bun which looked like a cross between a bee hive and a military helmet. Clearly she did not approve of stay at home fathers...either in concept or when faced with one. She regarded Mathias with an expression of pity and contempt. But, she also was indeed a magician with laundry; 3 times a week she turned vast mounds of the stuff into neatly put away, clean and fluffy, ready to wear items.
Mathias didn't have enough spare energy to even try and use his charm on her. He was always polite, but he was mostly just so grateful for her work, that he didn't really care how she regarded him. And slowly, as Magdalene began to spend more time in the household, as she (very) occasionally held one twin while Mathias dealt with the other, when she met Noemie, and as she watched Mathias' growing skills at HIS job – parenting - she began to play a larger role in the family; babysitting when Mathias had to be out, (Doctor's appointment -all good; mental health day - also good and very much needed; lunch at a restaurant with his wife -wonderful!) Preparing a meal or two. And even taking on some of the housekeeping chores previously done by a maid who had quit even before the twins arrived. These increased duties and hours were never discussed. Mathias, without comment simply increased her wages. Magdalene accepted this, also without comment.
And maybe Magdalene's presence was was "cheating" as far as the agreed upon 'no nannies/au pares' dictum went, but Mathias clearly remained THE primary care giver. It was he who comforted and soothed. Withstood tearful tantrums. Dealt with teething, colds and scrapes. Bouts of hair pulling (which is why his hair was now shorter; Noemie took to wearing her tresses pulled back.) Spit ups and potty training. Took his children to parks and zoos, much to his amusement as well as that of the female child tenders with whom he shared these rituals. And, as the twins got older, he arbitrated squabbles and doled out a kind of feral, child based form of justice. Oh, of course, Noemie was a huge presence in her children's life. They nearly imploded with excitement when she arrived home from work. And she made sure to try and keep her weekends as free as possible, (not easy in her job) to spend time with her babies. But all in all, as she said to Mathias after one especially exhausting, even more than usual child centric day, "You know, I think it is just possible that you may be an even better parent than you were an agent. And you were a great agent."
And that is how, more or less, Mathias found himself on a train platform with a family he could never have imagined and a life now filled with more love than he ever dreamed existed.