“Where are your other grandparents?” she asked Precious. “Your mommy’s parents?”
“Daddy says my grandpa died before I was born.”
“What about your grandma?”
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“You never see her?”
She shook her head. “Daddy says she’s sick and that’s why I can’t see her.”
Oh damn it, Michelle thought, realizing her error. She shouldn’t have asked.
“Can I stay with you until we have to go see Grandma Danielle?”
“Sure, kiddo.”
“Cool. I had fun this afternoon by the pond,” she said with a big smile.
“Me, too.” Michelle smiled, as she tucked a long curl behind the little girl’s ear.
“I liked playing tag bunny with you and Daddy. It was like when Mommy was alive.”
“Oh, yeah? You like being tickled, too?” Before Precious could respond, Michelle pushed her onto her back on the mattress and tickled her tummy mercilessly until Precious screamed.
In the height of her elation, Michelle knew she loved this child as though she were her own.
Precious had stolen a big piece of her heart—a piece she knew she would never ever get back. Her heart was split right down the middle between Erik and his daughter.
How could she have set herself up for such a fall?
***
“What’s the story with you and Michelle?” Philippe asked his son as they sat in a four-season sunroom overlooking the White Mountains.
“There’s no story. She’s Precious’ nanny.”
Philippe chuckled. “It’s in your eyes, Erik. You can’t hide it.”
“What is?” His fists curled around the arms of his chair.
“The passion. You look at Michelle the same way I looked at your mother thirty-eight years ago.”
Erik held his father’s watchful stare. “Your wife is dying and all you can do is talk of passion for another woman.”
Philippe rubbed his palms together then ran them along his thighs.
Erik watched him, his eyes narrowing at the nervous gesture he also made when he felt cornered.
Philippe glanced at his son. “I was in love with your mother, Erik. I don’t want you to ever doubt that. But I loved Danielle, too.”
“So why did you choose Danielle over her?” There was a bitter edge to Erik’s voice that he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying all these years. Or perhaps, he’d just been in denial about the way his father had treated his mother. “Is it because of the race difference?”#p#分页标题#e#
“Erik, you really think I’m that narrow-minded?”
“Well—”
“I didn’t choose, Erik. Your mother did. She told me to marry Danielle.”
Erik’s mind clouded with confusion. “Why would my mother tell you to marry Danielle when she was so in love with you? Still is, from what I can tell.”
“I couldn’t choose between them. I couldn’t hurt either one, so I was prepared to walk away from both of them. They understood, but then Danielle got sick. They found a tumor on her brain and gave her three months to live.”
“So my mother encouraged you to marry her.”
“She wanted Danielle’s last days on earth to be happy ones. She said it didn’t make any sense that neither one of them could have me. It was decided that Felicia and I would marry after Danielle passed away.”
“But she didn’t die.”
“No. They, um…” Philippe cleared his throat and ran his palms up and down his thighs again. “They went in and got the tumor. I didn’t know what to do. As Danielle got stronger and healthier, I knew that your mother was the one. I really wanted to be with Felicia, but Danielle—”
“She was your wife. You couldn’t abandon her.”
“I had made my bed. I had to lie in it.”
“But you didn’t stay in it.” Erik stared across the low marble table into the grey and amber eyes he’d inherited.
“What are you asking, Erik? Do you want to know if your mother and I were intimate after I married Danielle?”
“Well, were you?” Erik fired back, not knowing if he really wanted the truth.
His father pinned him with his eyes. “No. I would never do that to Danielle.”
Erik let out the breath he was holding.
“When your mother found out that Danielle couldn’t conceive, she offered her eggs.”
“Why didn’t you just adopt? Hadn’t you put her through enough emotional trauma already? She had to watch you and her best friend live the life she should have had. You made her give up her child and leave her home to start over in a new place. I had to grow up without her. Spending an occasional weekend and a few weeks during the summer with her wasn’t enough, Father. She’s my mother. She carried me and gave birth to me. Not Danielle.”