May 17, 1974

It was exactly twelve in the afternoon when Victoria rang Pascal's doorbell. She had memorized the path to his house when when he walked her to her dorm the day earlier and was hoping to catch him in a free moment before he went out to lunch. She had something to give him- and plenty to say. Initially, she'd intended to wait until they saw each other at the flea market on Monday, but the idea of having to tell him about her past in a public place filled with hundreds of people did not appeal to Victoria. So, here she was, gracing his doorstep.

Not long after she rang the doorbell, she heard footsteps approaching the door. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself to face Pascal. Instead, however, she was greeted by a woman in her late 30's with warm blue eyes and short, dark hair.

"Bon après-midi, madame. Je suis ici pour voir Pascal. Est-il à la maison?"

Victoria prayed her French was satisfactory. She had never laid eyes on this woman before, but one look at her alone indicated she was Pascal's mother. They resembled each other a great deal, especially when they smiled.

"He went to the bakery to pick up some things, but he won't be long. You're free to come in and wait for him if you'd like."

Victoria instantly noted how warm and welcoming the woman's tone was. She couldn't ever recall having been addressed the same way by her own mother.

"Thank you," she nodded, before stepping inside.

The older woman smiled, closing the door behind her, "Je suis la mère de Pascal, Claudine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. LeMarchal. I'm Victoria Harper."

She'd intended to respond in French, but forgot to because she was so anxious. Adults always made her nervous, and it was important to Victoria that she make a good impression.

"I remember," Claudine admitted as she led Victoria further into the house, "How are you feeling?"

Victoria recalled Pascal mentioning how his mother had been the one to take off her shoes and put her to bed the night she passed out at the bar.

"I'm alright," she answered, "Pascal mentioned you helped me the other night; I don't know how to thank you."

"Ne vous inquiétez pas, ma fille. What happened was not okay."

Once they reached the living room, Claudine took a seat on one of the chairs and motioned for Victoria to do the same. Opting for the couch and setting her bag down next to her, Victoria made herself comfortable.

"I know," she acknowledged, "it was stupid of me to take the wrong drink."

Claudine shook her head, "That's not what I meant. Try not to blame yourself, ma chérie, but do be more careful next time."

"I will," Victoria promised, "Pascal was an utter gentleman, but anyone else might have left me there or taken full advantage of the situation."

"Pascal's father and I had him young- barely out of college, but it was important to both of us he grow up with a strong sense of compassion and respect for others," Claudine explained.

At her words, Victoria's thoughts immediately flew to Patrick. She had often wondered about the kind of man he would turn out to be when he was still under her care, and hoped she wouldn't fail him somehow as he got older. Her age and inexperience with children had always been her two greatest insecurities as a parent, and it didn't help that the only examples she ever had to go on were the ones Marion and her lecherous lovers had provided.

"I'd like to think I would raise my son the same way."

The conversation had taken her mind to six months ago, bringing back some of the best memories she ever shared with Patrick. The first time she held him in her arms at the hospital, the sound of his laugh whenever she did something silly, all of the times he fell asleep grabbing onto her hair as she carried him... It wasn't until after she noted a subtle shift in Claudine's demeanor that Victoria realized her slip.

"If I ever have a son, that is," she added in an attempt to diffuse suspicion.

Unfortunately it was too late. Claudine had already seen through Victoria's words and put the pieces together in her head, leaving Victoria exposed and unable to escape the truth.

"You were very young, weren't you?" she asked solemnly.

There was no use denying it. A mother always knew.

"Sixteen," Victoria managed to choke out.

She knew she had just blown the whole "making a good impression" thing. Claudine would never approve of her now, not after hearing what she just did. Victoria couldn't help but wonder how her own mother would have taken the news if she'd told her. Although, truthfully, it didn't require much imagination to determine how Marion would have reacted. She would have blamed Victoria and called her a whore for good measure, as usual. The woman was many things, but unpredictable was not one of them.

"Ma fille, I am so sorry," Claudine stood up from where she was sitting and planted herself next to Victoria on the couch in a show of support. "You're sixteen now, is that right?"

Unable to face her, all Victoria could bring herself to do was nod.

"You must miss him a great deal," Claudine mused, "What is his name?"

Victoria wiped a fallen tear from her cheek before answering, "Patrick."

"Ah, like the saint. A beautiful name for a boy," Claudine's heart broke for Victoria. It was clear the girl was lonely with no one to talk to, and whatever circumstances had led her to having a child and leaving to Paris could not have been pretty ones.

"It was my grandfather's name," Victoria explained, "he passed away when I was little but I still remember him. My mother used to drop me off at his house sometimes when she was busy."

"Oh, so it's special," Claudine smiled, trying to lift the girl's spirits.

Victoria nodded, finally gathering up the courage to meet her eyes. She hadn't expected Claudine to show her such kindness after learning about Patrick, but the woman had taken her by surprise and Victoria was grateful to her for not having judged her or called her names.

"Can I ask you something?" she said after some consideration.

"You can ask me anything at all, ma chérie."

"Do you think he'll hate me for giving him away? I wanted to keep him more than anything, but I couldn't. He wasn't safe."

Claudine placed a hand on Victoria's back in order to reassure her, "You mustn't worry about what he'll think of you, my darling. You did the best you could. It's a mother's job to protect her child, always, no matter what the cost. Perhaps someday the two of you will be reunited; then you can tell him everything."

Victoria shook her head, "I'll never see him again."

"Don't be so sure," Claudine warned, "fate works in mysterious ways."

"I just wish he knew how much I loved him."

It was something that constantly haunted Victoria- the idea of Patrick growing up with the belief his mother never loved him. As someone who knew what it felt like to live with that pain, she prayed her son never experienced it. There was nothing worse than the rejection of a parent.

Claudine reassuringly took Victoria's hand into hers, "You're a good mother, Victoria. Whether you feel that way or not, Patrick was lucky to have you looking out for him."

At that, Victoria couldn't help but smile. She had never felt secure in her decision to leave Patrick because she had never been able to discuss it with anyone, but now that Claudine had expressed her approval, she was certain she'd made the right choice. Painful as it had been to give Patrick to Sister Rebecca, it was the only way she could protect them both. And if the duty of a mother was to protect her child, then Victoria had done just that.

"Thank you," she said, "for everything."

Claudine happily returned the smile, "Tout moment, ma chère."

The brief silence that befell them was immediately broken by the sound of a lock turning, following footsteps.

"Maman? Je suis de retour de la boulangerie."

It was Pascal. He was back from the bakery.