"That was before I realized that if you don't fight for yourself, no one else is going to fight for you." She reached into the car seat to unbuckle César, but Jean-Pierre took over the task.
"Let me." He lifted the baby in one arm and stepped out into the sunlight to help her exit the SUV. He held onto her arm even after she stood by his side. "Do you really think I didn't fight for you all those years ago?"
She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. She'd been hurt when he hadn't tried harder to see her despite their families' dictate that they stay away from each other.
"It's ancient history now." She wasn't about to admit how much that breakup had stung.
Especially not now, when she needed to shape a future for herself and her son. The less she looked back at the past, the better.
"I hope so. We've got a whole future ahead of us to plan." His hand found the small of her back as she stepped up onto the stone landing of the front steps. "Together."
His touch set off the familiar awareness that he'd always inspired. And how potent it felt now as they moved toward the threshold of this home with their son in his arms.
She'd be staying for two weeks inside a home where Jean-Pierre had almost seduced her ten years ago. How resistant would she be here, of all places, when they shared so much history? Lucky for her, she had César to remind her of her priorities. She wouldn't allow herself to be trapped in a loveless marriage. Children didn't thrive in that kind of stilted environment.
"I'm sure we'll figure out an equitable arrangement." Her familiarity with legal settlements had already prompted her to draw up some possible scenarios for sharing custody, but she wanted to wait a few days to raise the topic for discussion.
Give him some time to see she genuinely wanted what was best for their child.
"His happiness will be our highest priority." Jean-Pierre shifted César in his arms and the baby made a soft cooing sound. "Welcome back, Tatiana. If there's anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, I hope you'll let me know."
"Thank you." She felt the warm Louisiana breeze tousle her curls. Camellias and roses all around the front entrance beckoned her toward the open door. "It looks so much different."
"I should hope so. You've been gone a long time." He followed her into the cool foyer, where pale tile floors and heavy, dark furnishings gave the place a Mediterranean feel.
A courtyard ahead of them made her realize the house was built around a wide space that was open to the sunlight. Terra-cotta floors and some kind of potted citrus trees imparted a warmth to the home she hadn't expected. Brightly patterned pillows decorated carved wooden benches while a water feature in the center gurgled softly.
"It's very inviting." She could picture herself here, surrounded by sunlight and flowers.
"Fiona, Henri's wife, did some decorating when they married. But Henri and Fiona will be staying at their home in the Garden District all during the wedding festivities. So we'll have this whole place to ourselves." He gestured toward the steps and she followed him up the gently rounded staircase.
"I may need a map to navigate." She peered over the thick banister down into the foyer, noting the tapestry that bore a Reynaud family shield from the days of the Crusades. Jean-Pierre had written a paper on the meaning of the heraldry in high school and she'd proofread it for him before he turned it in.
"Hardly. Your father's house in the Hamptons is bigger than this." He pointed to a room on the left side of the main corridor upstairs and led her into a nursery decorated in gray, blue and yellow. A stuffed giraffe almost as tall as the ceiling stood in one corner, watching over the crib. A carved fireplace covered with a cream-colored grate took up the opposite wall.
While Jean-Pierre lay the still snoozing baby in the crib, she marveled at all the special details in place for the room's tiny occupant. Besides the beautiful décor, the open closet held extra blankets, diapers, towels and clothes. A discreet changing station had been built in to the gray cabinetry.
"Your staff must have worked all night to decorate." She couldn't imagine how they'd created the beautiful space so quickly. "Are you sure we'll be able to keep César a secret if-"
"The staff here is carefully screened and sign confidentiality agreements before working with the family. But in this case, I didn't need to ask for extra help. Henri and Fiona had already installed the basics for a nursery before..." He straightened from the crib. "Fiona lost a pregnancy and they had a difficult stretch. Her experience makes me all the more grateful you and César are both healthy and thriving."
The concern in his eyes told her how deeply he meant it. The emotion she glimpsed touched her, even as her heart ached for his brother and sister-in-law.
"I can't imagine how hard that must have been." She leaned into the crib to kiss her son's soft baby hair. The mattress was raised to the highest setting inside the wooden rails since he was too young to sit up on his own.
"Thankfully, she's well now. There's a video monitoring system if you'd like to keep an eye on him." He pointed to a handheld device broadcasting a color image of the crib. "The camera is inside the giraffe's mouth. You can also program your phone to pick up the feed if that's easier for you."
"That would be great." She hugged her arms around herself, feeling oddly adrift without César to hold now that she'd handed off some of his care to Jean-Pierre. "I will rest easier knowing I can check on him without even leaving my room."
"I can introduce you to the relief caregiver later, to help out when Lucinda needs a break. I'll show you to your room first. You must be exhausted with so much travel in the last week."
Not to mention the stress of telling him about their child.
But she didn't remind him of that.
"Thank you. I would appreciate it." She tucked the nursery monitor in her bag and followed him through the wide hallway to a room two doors down.
"I thought you'd prefer to be close to César, although if the room isn't to your liking, there are several other options." He switched on a chandelier, even though daylight still shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the exterior wall.
At first, she thought he'd brought her into a family room by mistake. But it was actually the sitting area of a spacious guest suite. Beyond the couches and wet bar of the living space, two steps led into the bedroom, the area divided by a low wall with two red marble pillars. A king-size bed was tucked into a corner beside an exit to a private terrace overlooking the lake. A fireplace had been built into one wall, and a ceiling fan turned languidly over the bed. The ceilings had to be at least fifteen feet high.
"The Reynauds live well," she said finally, setting her bag on one of the long, forest green couches. "I'm sure this room will be more than adequate."
"Good." He nodded, satisfied. "I told Evan to put your luggage in the closet, but I can send someone up to unpack for you."
"That's not necessary." She'd forgotten the level of wealth in his family. The Reynauds didn't just have homes around the globe. They had well-staffed homes. Private planes. A global shipping empire.
For her father, football was a lucrative career. For the Reynauds, it was a passion and a pastime, the income a small facet of a net worth she couldn't fully appreciate. And while that was all very nice for them, she wasn't sure how she felt about having her son raised to think this was how people lived.
"As you wish." He nodded and backed up a step. "Dinner is at seven thirty if you'd like to rest before then. The caregiver can oversee César's next feeding if Lucinda needs to unpack."
"No." She wouldn't hand over her son to a woman she hadn't even met yet. "I'll just keep the monitor close by." She retrieved it from her bag.
"But you'll join me for dinner?" he asked. He did not demand. "I've asked my family to give us some privacy until we settle in, so it will be just us tonight."
She appreciated that for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was needing to steel herself for a reunion with a family she hadn't acknowledged in a decade. A family that had been kind to her, whose kindness she'd repaid by turning her back on them when her father told her to.