Chapter 4
Blair sat atop the too-large king size bed in her second floor bedroom at her father's chateau, staring aimlessly out the bay window at the orchard behind the opulent home. The sight, usually filled with various shades of vibrant greens, oranges, and reds, normally calmed her; she'd always felt a sense of peace watching the trees sway against the autumn breeze, but now, the setting matched her melancholy mentality. Instead of sunshine and blue skies, mother nature mocked her distress with the heavy thud of rain against the typically picturesque landscape. The sky was dark and ominous, casting a dusky gray shadow over the trees, much like the darkness currently enveloping her mind.
The laptop in front of her displayed two open tabs in her web browser. The bold, impersonal headlines offered contradictory messages, neither of which brought her much comfort. The first was an article splashed across the cover of the Post: Parisian Police Officially Suspend Search Efforts for Bass Heir. With tears threatening her vision, she skimmed the article, but there was no new information to be read - only the same evidence that had plagued her for the past two months. A bloody wallet, a tattered passport, unused credit cards. None of the articles mentioned the engagement ring, and for that, she was grateful. Inspector Chivallier had managed to keep that part of his promise, at least.
The second tab was just as daunting as the first, but in a way, it was much more dangerous to her delicate state of mind. The bright Gossip Girl screen displayed a blurry photo of an average-sized man in a suit, his back turned to the camera. His hair was longer than Chuck's, but not much more than the expected growth between May and November. It was styled in a similar manner, but not as kempt in appearance. The headline read: Spotted - Bass Doppelganger taking a leisurely stroll through the Grecian streets of Athens. Has our Dark Knight deceived us all, Queen B included? If so, what's he running from? Perhaps the answer lies within the queen herself. To add to her torment, Gossip Girl included a photo of Blair leaving her prenatal appointment with a clearly swollen bump.
In the months following Chuck's disappearance, paparazzi hounds were relentless in their search for the notoriously troubled youth. Every week different publications reported sightings in Japan, South America, and New Zealand. Blair's heartache became tabloid fodder for thousands to digest with their morning coffee, and for a while, she couldn't step outside of her penthouse without being hounded for an interview or statement about Chuck's whereabouts. Nate took it upon himself to act as her personal bodyguard, fending off the vultures with an ardent desire to protect his long-time friend. As Blair's bump grew too large to hide, speculation grew unbearable. Some briefly wondered if Chuck could have impregnated her and abandoned her following a positive test, but the most popular rumor seemed to be that she and Nate had had an illicit affair, and Chuck fled from the pain of his girlfriend and best friend's betrayal.
She placed her hand against her abdomen as she felt her daughter lodge her foot in her side in a silent protest. With a dramatic sigh, Blair slammed the laptop shut, and stretched back onto her side to alleviate the pain radiating in her ribcage. She'd come to learn in the past few months that the baby inside of her was stubborn like her mother and relentless like her father. As the months drew on, the movements became more aggressive and painful, but as tender as she felt, there was freedom that came with her daughter's incessant kicks. She was full of energy and life; the feeling gave Blair the slightest hope that better days were ahead of her. Even in her bleakest moments, she found solace in the notion that one day soon she would hold her daughter in her arms.
A soft, almost apprehensive knock sounded at her bedroom door, and she sat up with some effort. Her body still hadn't adjusted to the weight centered at the front of her small frame. She called out, "Come in."
Harold entered the bedroom carrying a tray adorned with a variety of fruits and pastries. He deposited the breakfast arrangement in front of her on the bed and leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, whispering, "Joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie."
She offered him a smile, but her eyes betrayed her sadness, "Thank you, Daddy."
"How does 20 feel, sweetheart?"
"A lot different than 19 did," she chuckled dryly.
"I'm so proud of you, you know," he offered, reaching forward to squeeze her hand affectionately.
She scoffed in self-loathing, "What's there to be proud of? Pregnant and alone. I'm a pathetic shell of who I was supposed to become. I dropped out of college to hide from the paparazzi in another country."
"Oh, Blair Bear," he soothed, pushing aside the untouched tray to sit beside her, "You're so much stronger than you realize. You're so much stronger than I could ever be." He pulled her into a hug, his inability to comfort her battling his sense of fatherly obligation. "Please come spend the day with me. We can start the day by feeding the ducks; the rain is supposed to taper off by late morning. I know I'm not Dorota," he laughed good-naturedly, "But I'm pretty good at carrying bread."
She didn't want to feed the ducks any more than she wanted to feed herself, but she could tell he was trying desperately to reach her on her level - to find a common bond that didn't involve Yale, New York, or the fast approaching holiday season. With a sugary sweet smile, she reached for a croissant and nodded, "That sounds great, Daddy."
XOXO
They walked along in silence for some time. Harold wasn't too sure what to say to his pensive daughter, so he just acted as a physical presence by her side - a metaphorical embodiment of his unwavering love and support. When Blair had finally gotten up the nerve to divulge her secret to her parents, she'd been most afraid of her mother's reaction, but she'd been terribly nervous about disappointing her doting father. He'd always seen her as an innocent little girl, and now she was afraid that she was tainted in his eyes. Eleanor would surely be worried about Blair's tarnished reputation, but the thought that Harold would see her as damaged goods - as less angelic and beautiful - haunted her for weeks leading up to her confession.
Blair watched as her image was distorted in the murky puddles of leftover rainwater on the concrete path. She didn't recognize herself in the reflection, but she didn't dare ponder the symbolic meaning behind the blurred image. Without much thought, she observed aloud, "I hit the third trimester today."
"And you're still the picture of grace," he responded. "You're going to be such an amazing mother," he paused to slip his arm around her shoulder affectionately and chuckled lightly, "If only you would ever give my granddaughter an actual name."
Blair's face dropped, and she turned her attention to adjust the charms dangling from her cherry red Lady Dior. "I'm struggling," she admitted quietly.
"What is it?" Harold prodded gently.
"I want her to have a strong and sophisticated name," Blair began.
"You have impeccable taste -"
"But," she cut him off, "I also want -" her chin quivered and she forced back tears. "I want her to have a part of..of…"
"Her father?" Harold questioned in understanding.
Blair nodded, "I'm so confused, Daddy. Part of me is really angry with him but another part misses him so much it hurts in my bones. How am I supposed to name her without him? She's his daughter," she sniffed quietly, fighting with all of her might to maintain her composure, and Harold pulled her closer into his chest. "I feel like I've already failed her."
"Oh, Blair Bear, that's not possible," he felt helpless. Far gone were the days when a simple word of affirmation and a kiss on her forehead were enough to quiet her cries and appease her woes, and his distance during most of her teen years left him ill-equipped to comfort her now.
"Of course, it is," Blair countered. "She's coming into the world without a father to a young mother who dropped out of college. If I name her after him, then she will have to carry that with her for the rest of her life, but if I don't -" A sob escaped her mouth and she couldn't speak the words. She was terrified of spending the rest of her life feeling the sorrow that Chuck's disappearance had caused her, but she was even more afraid of erasing him from her memory. She couldn't imagine anything more heartbreaking than living the rest of her life as if he'd never existed.
Harold pulled her back to look her in the eye and prayed that he would offer her the right advice. "Listen to me carefully," he instructed, "From what I've observed during the past few months, this child was conceived in love. She deserves to know her mother and father. You say you want a strong name. You, Blair, are the strongest woman I've ever met; you get that from your mother," he smiled softly at his self-deprecating humor, "You clearly love Charles very much, and I don't think that's going to change. You can't hide this part of you from your daughter, so if you want her to know him; don't be afraid of that. I think she'll grow to appreciate your honesty."
XOXO
"Aunt Serena!" Cora squealed as she ran to the door to greet the statuesque blonde. "Is Uncle Nate coming, too?"
Serena smiled vibrantly at the beautiful child and bent down in her stilettos to embrace her. "Oh, Cora, I've missed you so much," She kissed her on the forehead and walked deeper into the foyer. "Uncle Nate will be here this weekend, but I thought we could have a girls' day with Mommy. How's that sound?"
Cora eyed her skeptically, clearly mulling over the offer, "By girls' day, do you mean mani/pedis or Audrey movies and macarons?"
Serena laughed, endeared by the girl's quick wit, "Well, I was thinking mani/pedis because my cuticles are shameful, but maybe we can get some dessert afterwards?"
Cora smiled and nodded in approval, "Grampa got me the most perfect Chloe sundress yesterday. I'm going to change!" She turned and skipped toward her room after flashing an excited smile in Serena's direction.
Serena ascended the grand staircase, gripping the railing as she followed the exaggerated curve toward Blair's room. They'd spoken nearly every day since Blair relocated to Paris to transition as CEO of Waldorf Designs, but she felt like her stubborn best friend was consciously holding her at arm's length, refusing to completely let her in.
She knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open to reveal Blair combing her hair absently; each brush stroke slid effortlessly through the same few inches of hair, but Blair didn't seem aware of her repetitive motions. Her eyes were locked blankly on the image staring back at her in the mirror. To anyone less observant, her actions were meticulous; to Serena, they were robotic. She knew what the look on Blair's face meant, and she felt her chest constrict tightly out of concern for her troubled friend.
She cleared her throat to shake Blair from her reverie and joked, "I think you got all the tangles, B."
The brunette startled slightly before her eyes landed on the blonde. She stood and a genuine smile spread across her lips, "Serena!" She wrapped her arms tightly around her friend, happy tears welling in her eyes. "I wasn't expecting you until this weekend."
Serena waved her hand dismissively, "I needed a break from work, so I took off a few days early. Plus, I missed my best friend."
Blair tilted her head and burst into tears. The weight of her emotions from the past few weeks weighed on her heavily, but she'd forced herself to internalize her anguish, like she'd done many times over the years. With Serena standing in front of her, offering to bear some of the pain for her, she couldn't hold back any longer - and she didn't want to. The separation from Serena and Nate, from life in New York, was taking a toll on her, and for once, she needed some normalcy. She needed to allow herself a moment of weakness to break down so that she could remain strong for Cora.
Serena guided her to sit on the bed and pulled her head onto her shoulder. She gently stroked Blair's hair back off her forehead and waited patiently, knowing from years of experience that her friend would need a few moments to compose herself before any words would be spoken. After several minutes of gut-wrenching sobs, Blair forced herself to calm down with deep breaths. She looked up at Serena, noting the worry in her eyes, and explained, "Cora asked about -" she swallowed, "-about Ch-Chuck." His name was nearly imperceptible and Serena thought the words sounded foreign on Blair's lips.
"Oh, B, what did you say?" Serena knew that Cora was perceptive for her age and suspected that she would start asking questions soon. Still, the sound of her brother's name hurt, like a dull knife opening an old wound.
"I told her the truth," Blair responded, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. "She deserves my honesty."
Serena's hand subconsciously clutched at her chest as she thought about how confused and sad Cora must've been to hear about the unsolved mystery of her father's disappearance. "Oh, sweet baby," she muttered, "How did she react?"
"She took it well for a five-year-old. She said that he's handsome," Blair smiled sadly.
"You showed her a picture?" Serena asked, surprised that Blair had been so open with her daughter. She hadn't spoken his name to Serena in years, and the fact that she was able to view his photo without having a mental breakdown was shocking.
"Yeah," Blair nodded and reached for her phone from the nightstand. She showed Serena the locked gallery she kept hidden. "I don't know if it was the right thing to do or not."
"What do you mean?" Serena's brows furrowed in confusion as she studied the picture of Chuck with his arms wrapped tightly around Blair's waist.
"Cora has been so dejected ever since I told her, and last week, we went to the funfair -" Serena raised her eyebrows in question, and Blair smiled in spite of herself, "She begged, and I would do anything to cheer her up. Anyway, we went into the mirror maze, and I lost her. I panicked, and when I finally found her, she said that she had run off because she thought she saw her daddy there."
Serena gasped audibly, "Oh, my God. Poor Cora."
Blair nodded in agreement, "I saw ghosts for years, Serena. He still haunts me. I think he will randomly appear when I least expect it for the rest of my life. It's exhausting and heartbreaking. I don't want that for her."
"What are you going to do? As she gets older -"
"I know," Blair sighed, "I'm thinking about getting her into a child psychologist. I wanted her childhood to be as normal as possible, but I think I was kidding myself."
"She's smart, Blair," Serena urged. "You just have to be frank with her. She'll understand. She's not like other kids because she has her mother's wit and her father's guile."
"I did that," Blair shook her head, "And she seemed to understand, but the look of defeat on her innocent face broke my heart. She immediately wanted to leave the fair, and I've barely seen her smile since."
"Well, she was smiling pretty big when she went to change into her new Chloe dress," Serena nudged Blair on the leg, silently imploring her to find joy in the moment.
"Of course, because Aunt Serena is here," Blair rolled her eyes playfully.
"Partially, yes," Serena erupted into a bubbly laugh, "But I promised her a girls' day of mani/pedis and dessert."
"That sounds perfect," Blair smiled in appreciation, "And the Chloe dress really is precious on her."
As Serena stood from the bed to pull Blair with her, Cora appeared in the doorway, looking like a beautiful little princess in her light pink dress and her hair pulled back into a low ponytail with a delicate bow. She twirled and let out a child-like giggle, "What do you think?"
"You're the most beautiful little girl in the world," Serena complimented her. "I'm so excited for our day together. Perhaps you can play tour guide and show me all your favorite Parisian spots."
"Oh," Cora cooed in excitement, "Can we take her to get macarons and meet Eva, Mommy?"
"Possibly," Blair grinned at her daughter, knowing that they would definitely be making a stop at the little pastry shop that had captured the little girl's heart. In truth, there was something comforting about the small boutique. It was nothing fancy, but it was cozy. It reminded her of home for some strange reason, and the macarons were really good. Perhaps she could stop to pick up a small gift for Eva as a token of her appreciation for helping Cora when she was lost.
"Please, Mommy?"
"Okay," Blair agreed. "After our manicures, we'll go see Eva."
A/N: I do not know any French (other than the chorus to Lady Marmalade), so I hope I didn't butcher that small section from Harold.
I hope that this pacing on this story isn't too slow. I need to build up Blair's back story during the time of Chuck's absence before we meet him.