Danielle Steel - Leap of Faith

It was New Year's Eve when she finally called Billy. She was at home with her babies, and thinking about him. She had so much to think of, values and ideals, and dreams that had been destroyed, integrity that had never existed. Like Louise, she realized now that she had been nothing more than a target for him from the first, a source of funds that he would have bled till it ran dry. She was just thankful that her trustees had been more cautious than she was. But at least the sale of the house in Paris would restore some of her financial balance.

“What are you doing at home tonight?” Billy asked when she called. “Why aren't you out celebrating? It must be midnight in Paris.”

“Pretty close.” It was shortly after, and it was five in the afternoon for him. He had been planning to spend a quiet night at home, with his family and his fiancee.

“Aren't you supposed to be at a grand party somewhere, Countess?” he teased her, but she didn't smile. She hadn't smiled in almost two weeks.

She told him about the fire, and what Bernard had done, or tried to do. She told him about Louise, and Charles, and the money Bernard had bilked from her. But more than anything, she told him what it had felt like, in the bathroom during the fire, and throwing her children out the window, and as he listened to her, she could hear him crying.

“My God, Marie-Ange, I hope they send the son of a bitch to prison forever.” He had never trusted him. It had all happened so quickly. Too quickly. And Marie-Ange had always insisted that everything was so perfect, and for a while she thought it was. But now that she looked back, she realized it never had been. She even wondered if the children he wanted so desperately had only been a way to distract her and tie her to him. She was just grateful now that she hadn't gotten pregnant a third time, but since the fire, she had been reassured that she hadn't. “What are you going to do now?” Billy asked her, sounding more worried about her than ever.

“I don't know. The hearing is in a month, and Louise and I are both going to be there.” She had described her face to him, and the tragedy she'd been through. Marie-Ange had been a great deal luckier in being able to save her children. “I'll be in Paris until I figure out what to do. There's nothing left at Marmouton. I suppose I should sell it,” she said sadly.

“You can rebuild if you want to.” He encouraged her, still trying to absorb the horror she had told him, and wishing he could put his arms around her. His mother had seen him crying on the phone, and had shooed everyone out of the kitchen, including his fiancee.

“I'm not even sure I do want to,” Marie-Ange said honestly about the home she had loved as a child, but so many tragedies had happened there that she was no longer sure she wanted to keep it. “So many awful things happened there, Billy.”

“Good things too. Maybe you need to take some time to think about it. What about coming here to kind of catch your breath for a while?” The idea appealed to her immensely, although she didn't want to stay at a hotel, and she couldn't impose two small children on his mother. Everyone on their farm was busy and had their hands full.

“Maybe. And I can't come in June for your wedding. I have to be here for the lawyers, and they said he might go to trial then. I'll know later.”

“So will I,” he said, smiling, and looking more boyish than ever, although she couldn't see him. Marie-Ange was twenty-three, and he was twenty-four now.

“What does that mean?” Marie-Ange questioned his cryptic comment.

“I don't know. We've been talking about putting the wedding off for another year. We like each other a lot, but sometimes I wonder. Forever is a hell of a long time. My mom says not to rush it. And I think Debbi's kind of nervous. She keeps saying she wants to live in Chicago. You know what it's like here. You're not talking big-city excitement.”

“You should bring her to Paris,” Marie-Ange said, still hopeful it would work out for them. He deserved happiness. She had had her turn, and it had literally turned to ashes. Now all she wanted was peace and some quiet times with her children. It was hard to imagine ever trusting anyone again, after Bernard. But at least she knew Billy, and loved him as her brother. She needed a friend now. And then she had an idea, and proposed it to him. “Why don't you come to Paris? You can stay at my apartment. I'd love to see you,” she said, sounding homesick. He was the only person in the world she could trust now.

“I'd love to see your kids,” he said, thinking about it.

“How's your French these days?” “I'm losing it. I have no one to talk to.” “I should call more often.” She didn't want to ask him if he could afford the trip, or insult him by offering to pay for it, but she would have loved to see him.

“Things are pretty quiet here right now. I'll talk to my dad. He could probably get by without me for a week or two. We'll see. I'll think about it, and see what I can work out.”

“Thank you for being there for me,” Marie-Ange said with the smile he remembered so well from their childhood.

“That's what friends are for, Marie-Ange. I'm always here for you, I hope you know that. I wish you hadn't lied to me about him. Sometimes I thought something was wrong, and other times you convinced me you were happy.”

“I was, most of the time, a lot of the time, really. And my kids are so sweet. But he scared the hell out of me the way he spent money.”

“You'll be okay now,” he reassured her, “the main thing is that you and the kids are fine.”

“I know. What if I lend you the money for a ticket?” she asked, worried he didn't have the money and afraid to embarrass him, but she was dying to see him. She suddenly felt so scared and so alone, and so lonely, and it felt like a hundred years since she'd seen him. It had been just over two, but it felt like decades. And so much had happened. She'd gotten married, had two kids, and nearly been destroyed by the man she'd married.

“If I let you lend me the money for the ticket, how would you be able to tell me from your husband?” He was serious. He didn't want to do the same thing to her as Bernard, but he couldn't even conceive of the scale on which he'd done it.

“Easy,” she laughed in answer to his question, “just don't buy an oil well with the money.”

“Now there's an idea,” he said, laughing at her. He thought she was kidding. “I'll figure out what I'm going to do, and I'll call you.”

“I'll be here,” she said with a smile, and then remembered. “And by the way, Happy New Year.”

“Same to you, and do me a favor, will you, kid?”

“What's that?” It felt like their old school days just talking to him.

“Try to stay out of trouble till I get there.”

“Does that mean you're coming?”

“That means I'll see. Just take care of yourself and the kids in the meantime. And if they let him out of jail, I want you to fly out here.”

“I don't think that's going to happen. Not for a long time,” but it was a sensible suggestion, and she was grateful for his concern.

After they hung up, Marie-Ange got into bed. Heloise was sleeping next to her in her bed, and Robert was in his crib in the next room. And she smiled to herself as she thought of Billy.

At that exact moment, he was talking to his father. Tom Parker had been more than a little startled by the question, but he said that he figured maybe he could spare it, as long as Billy eventually repaid it, and Billy promised to do that. He had been saving for their honeymoon and already had four hundred dollars put aside.

But when he walked back into the living room, his sisters thought he looked distracted. One of them spoke to him and at first he didn't even hear.