Where was everybody?
Nearing desperation, she took off, turned a corner and ran smack dab into Claudette.
“Oh, God…” Tasha’s anxiety relaxed at the sight of her mother-in-law. “Am I glad to see you.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Camille.” Tasha paused, then a flood of anxieties came pouring out. “Her water broke. We need to get her to the hospital. Julian’s in Paris. How am I supposed to tell her he’s in Paris?”
“Calm down.” Claudette’s hands shot up to Tasha’s upper arms near her shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine. Did you leave word at de Laurent Enterprises?” After Tasha nodded, Claudette continued, “Good. Did you call the doctor?” Another nod. “Good. Now we’re going to have the car brought around. You and I will take Camille to the hospital. Everything’s going to be fine.”
All the tension and apprehension that had wound around Tasha so tightly melted away. Claudette’s tone was as promising as her words. And if there was one thing Tasha knew to be true of Claudette—her word was golden.
At least, it had been since she’d known her. Tasha hoped that still held true.
By the time the party arrived at the hospital, Camille’s pains were coming a couple of minutes apart, and they’d grown much stronger. Dr. Goldman had ordered an epidural, which instantly eased Camille’s pain, and soon after that, her anxiety.
After the staff left, Tasha stepped up to her bedside and scooped up Camille’s hand. “That’s much better, huh?” But Tasha already knew the answer. She could tell from the relaxed look on Camille’s face that the tension had flowed away the moment the epidural took effect.
“You found Julian, right?” Camille asked. “Tell me he’s on his way.”
“He is.” Tasha nodded. “He should be here any minute.”
“Okay.” Camille sucked in a breath and looked toward the window.
The door opened and Julian’s head peeked in. When he saw Camille, he smiled and came on in. He went to the opposite side of the bed from where Tasha was standing. With a grin on his face, he said to Camille, “So you’ve finally decided to pop?”
Tasha laughed to herself. He had been listening to their American idioms.
Julian slipped Camille’s free hand in his, bent down and pressed his lips to hers. “Chéri…” he whispered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Now that you’re here.”
Julian held fast to Camille’s hand, backed up a step and used the tip of his foot to drag the chair up. “I’m here for the duration,” he said, and sat down.
Claudette stepped closer to Tasha. “Let’s go get some coffee.”
Tasha nodded.
“Can we get you anything, Julian?” Claudette asked, guiding Tasha toward the door.
“Coffee. Strong and black.” Julian’s eyes never left Camille’s face.
“Julian…” Tasha stopped Claudette at the door. “Where’s Andre?”
“He’s around here somewhere. I think he stopped off at the restroom.”
“Okay.” Tasha blew out a sigh filled with relief. Not that she could explain it, but she felt better knowing Andre was close by. Maybe it had something to do with the remorse welling up inside her. She was happy and excited about Camille giving birth, but she couldn’t help thinking that she could be doing, or at least she could be close to doing the same thing—if fate hadn’t taken a nasty turn.
Claudette guided Tasha into the hallway. “You go wait there.” She pointed toward the waiting area a few feet away. “I’m sure Andre will find his way here. I’m going to the coffee shop. You want something?” She looked at Tasha, but didn’t wait for a response. “You’re getting hot chocolate. No coffee for you. You’re on edge enough as it is.”
“Okay,” Tasha said distantly, and proceeded toward the waiting area while rubbing her palms over the tweed skirt of her impeccably tailored sheath dress. She barely noticed Claudette disappearing into the elevator.
Stepping into the waiting area, Tasha looked around and then circled the large table in the center, taking note of the magazines strewn across the top. Cosmetique, Elle, Essential Homme, Gala, Hades, I ‘Express and Le Figaro layered the top of the pile. After a complete full circle, she did another half-circle before sitting in one of the chairs. Tasha gazed around the room at the dull, off-white walls. There was a picture of daisies in a couple of vases on the wall directly across from her. How the picture had been chosen to hang there, she hadn’t a clue. It wasn’t that it was ugly, but it wasn’t particularly appealing either. She pushed herself up and moved to the other side of the table, sitting beneath the picture. That way, she didn’t have to look at it.
Thoughts of Camille and the impending birth of her baby flittered through Tasha’s mind. The pregnancy had been an easy one. Camille’s biggest complaint had been weight gain. She had appeared rather uncomfortable during the last few weeks. But, let’s face it, Tasha thought, Camille was huge.
Tasha wondered how her pregnancy would’ve gone, if she hadn’t been subjected to fate’s cruel twist. Would she have gotten as big as Camille? And what was it like to give birth, anyway? Judging by Camille today, Tasha had to say it hurt. And probably a lot.
But that’d be okay. It was better than the alternative. She’d much rather bear the physical pain that came with childbirth rather than the emotional pain of miscarriage. Yes, bearing the physical pain was a much better option. Look at what she’d end up with. A precious baby born out of the love she shared with Andre. Tasha would give anything….
The tears had snuck up on her. She dropped her head into her hand and tried to stifle the tears that were hell-bent on escaping.
Firm hands gripped her upper arms. She knew in an instant that it was Andre, turned and fell into his embrace. His hug coaxed the pain from her and it came out in loud, vocal sobs.
“Why are you crying, mon trésor?” He reached into his jacket pocket and plucked out a handkerchief. “Is Camille okay?” he asked, dabbing at the tears on Tasha’s cheeks. She nodded. After another dab or two, Andre pulled her back into his arms. “I know…” he said. “On a day like this it’s hard not to take a detour down the road not taken.”
“I feel horrible,” Tasha mumbled through her tears.