Martine, Page 2

  With his back to his mother he asked, "If you kept me, what would you have called me?"

  "It doesn't matter now. You are Alain and we can't undo what happened eighteen years ago," Martine replied.

  Alain's shoulders slumped and then he was gone. Martine listened as the front door opened and closed.

  Parte 6

  James found Martine in the kitchen washing the last of the dishes. Her back was to him but he could tell that she was conflicted. The muscles in her back were tense and every now and then she would reach up to massage her shoulders.

  "It didn't go well, did it?" he asked, coming up behind her, massaging her tense shoulders.

  "I explained why I couldn't keep him, but all he would say is he needed me," Martine sighed. "Why can't he see that it was better that he lived with the Bouviers?" she turned to her husband for an answer.

  "Was it really better, Martine?"

  "Yes! Look at him, he came out to be a good, young man. I don't think I could have done such a good job on my own," Martine replied.

  "Martine, you know your side of this, but have you ever tried to see his? Tell me, were there a lot of black people in your little town?" James asked sitting on one of the kitchen stools.

  "Well, no, just a handful," Martine answered.

  "And how many biracial people lived there?" James continued.

  "Actually, none when I lived there," she said, sitting down next to her husband.

  "Don't you think that being the only biracial kid in town would be hard? It would be difficult, especially if both parents are white. To everyone, Alain would be a black kid, but at home there was no one he could identify with as black. Half of him is white, but the world sees him as black, but he had no one to teach him how to be black. I'm sorry, Martine, I'm just trying to see his side and I got carried away." James had noticed that Martine had become very quiet.

  "No, no, James, what you said makes sense. I guess I never thought about that aspect. Now, I think about it, he must be as frustrated as I am. We are both saying our sides but not listening to the other side," Martine shook her head.

  "So where do we go from here?" James asked getting up and pulling her into his arms.

  "I think we have to meet and talk again."

  "What happens after that, what will come of this reunion?" he yawned his question, letting Martine go and making his way out of the kitchen.

  "I'm leaving that up to Alain, if he wants me in his life, I will be there, maybe catch up on all this lost time," Martine turned off the lights and followed James to their bedroom.

  "Well, whichever way things go, I will support you. Plus I like Alain, he has a solid head on his shoulders. Should we tell the girls?"

  "No, not yet, I want to wait until I know what Alain wants. I don't want to raise the girls' hopes about having a new brother and then crush them if he doesn't want to be in our lives," Martine said, changing into her night gown and crawling into bed.

  As soon as she laid down, Martine felt fatigue take over her body. By the time James climbed into bed, she was half asleep. "My next class with him is on Friday, I'll talk to him then," Martine mumbled just before falling asleep.

  Parte 7

  Although Martine had planned to talk to Alain after class on Friday, she had hoped on seeing him before. Perhaps in the halls or crossing the courtyard but she never did, so she patiently waited for Friday.

  Friday came, but no Alain. She kept hoping he would be running late and would slip in during the class. As the class ended, Martine kept wondering where he son was, if he was okay.

  By the time she got home, she had conceded that the ball was in Alain's court. If he wants to talk, he knew where to find her.

  "Hi honey, how did it go?" James asked when Martine entered the kitchen. Whatever he was cooking smelled good and she couldn't resist looking in the pot.

  "Yum, this looks good, do you need me to make anything?"

  "Martine, how did it go?" he asked again, putting the cover back on the pot and looking his wife in the eyes.

  "He didn't show up and I haven't seen him at all on campus," Martine answered, heading to the fridge for water.

  James shook his head, "Don't worry, he'll come around..."

  "When? When will he come?" Martine interrupted.

  "When he figures it all out. When he works out what he's feeling. If anything, take the time to figure out what you want from this reunion," James answered.

  "What I want?" Martine never really thought about what she wanted. She had been going on instinct, her maternal instinct, but beyond that she was at a loss. It was only then the important questions crowded her mind. Does she want him in her life? How can he be a part of her life? How can she incorporate him in her family's life? How would the girls take having a brother?

  James could tell that Martine was trying to figure things out. "Honey, how about you go into the living room and think things through. I pretty much have things covered here."

  Martine smiled appreciatively and exited the kitchen. A few minutes later, Sophie entered looking perplexed.

  "Dad, what's up with Maman? She almost passed me without saying hi," she asked.

  "She has a lot on her mind, Sophie, she may seem a bit distant for a while until she gets a few things figured out. Help me set the table," James replied, handing his youngest the dishes to set the dining table in the kitchen.

  "Is it work related?" Sophie was always inquisitive, on more than one occasion her parents wondered if she would be an investigative reporter.

  "Kind of, but it's not for me to say. So how was your first week of school?" her father asked, changing the subject. Thankfully, it was a subject Sophie was happy to talk about.

  By the time the table was set and Bianca had joined them in the kitchen, James knew about the new student in Sophie's grade, the news of all her teachers and who had changed since the last year.

  "Should I call Maman?" Sophie asked.

  "Uh... no, I'll get her, you girls can go ahead and eat," James replied, making his way out of the kitchen. He found Martine in the living room, standing by the window looking out, but he doubted she saw anything outside. "Martine."

  "Huh, oh, hi baby. I was miles away."

  "How's the soul searching going?" he walked closer to his wife.

  "Well, for one, I want to be in Alain's life. He is my son and the fact that he came looking for me means he would like me in his life. The only thing is how would he fit in to our family dynamic?" It was more than a rhetorical question than an actual question.

  "I think he would fit in nicely. He's a good kid and the girls like him... well correction, Sophie likes him and I think Bianca will tolerate him," James said in a matter of fact tone. "What? Martine, did you really think I would have a problem of Alain being a part of this zany family. How many times do I have to tell you that I will support you in this?"

  To show her appreciation, Martine walked over and embraced her husband tightly, planting a kiss on his lips. It started out light, but slowly it became passionate. James broke the connection. "We have to stop before I get too aroused. I actually came to call you for dinner and it would be a matter of time before Sophie comes looking for us. And I don't think she is ready to know that we have sex," James said, catching his breath.

  "Well, let's go and eat, but we will continue this later after they're gone to bed," Martine said with a spark in her eyes and a seductive smile. They joined their daughters in the kitchen, trying their hardest to look normal. After the Carter girls were fast asleep, later that night, their parents made passionate love. As Martine dosed off, James thought that perhaps having Alain in their lives is the kind of change his family needed.

  Parte 8

  Just as Martine was settling into her favourite chair in the living room, pressing play on the DVD remote control, the door bell rang. She groaned as she got up, deciding to let the trailers play while she got rid of the person at the door. This was her fist Saturday alone at home, James had taken the g
irls to the mall and they had planned to take in a movie. She had the DVD of a movie that she had been meaning to see, her favourite snacks and her comfy pajamas. Nothing and nobody was going to disturb her day.

  When she opened the door, all the irritation melted from her face. On the doorstep stood Alain, his face gaunt, he had shadows under his eyes, it looked like he hadn't shaved in days and his clothes were rumpled. To add to the tragic scene, it had started to rain. He looked so sad and it broke Martine's heart.

  "Come in, come in, you will catch your death of cold. Let me get you a towel, have you eaten?" it became evident to Alain where Sophie got her talkative nature. He shook his head, he hadn't eaten since the day before. "Okay, I'll get the towel and you go to the kitchen," Martine instructed.

  When she entered the kitchen with the towel, Martine found Alain at the kitchen sink staring outside, his mind a million miles away. His profile reminded her of her brother who died when she was eight and he was fourteen. It was no doubt that Alain was her son.

  "Here, dry off, it's a good thing the rain had just started or you would have been soaked to the bone. How does scrambled eggs, bacon and toast sound?" Martine asked.

  "It sounds good, Maman," Alain answered accepting the towel.

  Within half an hour, Alain was sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, tucking into the breakfast his mother prepared.

  "I was worried about you, Alain, as I had not seen you all week and you didn't come to class," Martine said as she started to clean up the kitchen. There are a lot of things we have to talk about but I'll give you a chance to finish eating."

  After Alain had finished eating and helped Martine clean up the kitchen, mother and son went into the living room. Martine sat on her favourite chair and Alain sat on the couch. A brief silence descended over them as they figured out how to start the much needed conversation.

  "Maman," Alain began at last, "most of this week, I've been in my room trying to figure things out. I know you gave me up for adoption because you thought it was the best for me. I can't say that my life has been awful, in fact, I have benefited from your decision, but without you in my life, I felt lost, a boat without a rudder. I know my adopted parents love me, but a small part of me wonders why didn't you. Why did you leave me? Did you not care? Was I so unlovable?"

  "Never, Alain, you were beautiful, you were, you are perfect in my eyes," Martine interrupted.

  "Was it my skin, did it remind you of my father? You never mention him, was he that bad an individual that you never even utter his name? Do I remind you of him?" it was like a bottle and the contents were under pressure, as soon as the cork was removed all the contents rushed out in this case the contents were questions.

  "First of all, you don't remind me of your father, in fact, you remind me of my brother who died when I was young. Your father's name was Pierre and no, he was not bad, but his actions at the time were not kind to me and in turn to you. As for the colour of your skin, it does not matter if you are red, yellow or blue, I will always love you," Martine said.

  "If colour means nothing to you, why did you marry a black man?" Alain asked.

  "Because he was the man I fell in love with, he loves me and I love him and we are good for one another," his mother answered.

  Alain stood and walked to the large window looking out onto the street, a little afraid to ask the next question, afraid of the answer. "Where do we go from here?"

  "Well Alain, it is up to you, would you want me in your life? Would you feel comfortable being a part of the Carter family life?"

  Alain whipped around, he had not expected that answer, "What do you mean?"

  "I want to be a part of your life, Alain. I've missed so much of it and I don't want to miss anymore. But I am already a part of a family, the Carter family, and I don't want to have you on one side and my family on the other. I don't want it a "you and them" situation, I want it to be us. Are you willing to be part of us?" Martine asked nervously.

  "But what about Mr. Carter, would he be okay with this? I am another man's son."

  "James is okay with it and so will the girls. How about this? Think about it, come over for dinner tomorrow and tell me what you want to do. James and the girls will be home and if it's yes, we'll let the girls know you are their brother. If it is no, I will respect your decision and we will work it out. How does that sound?" Martine asked.

  "That sounds okay," Alain said.

  For the rest of the day, they caught up with each other. Alain told Martine about his life, growing up, his likes and dislikes and his dreams and aspirations. Martine told her son about her family, his grandparents, uncles and aunts, her life growing up, how she came to live in the US. They reconnected and not only did they love each other, they liked each other as individuals.

  They had spent most of the day talking and eventually it was time for Alain to go, he had agreed to meet up with some new friends and he had to clean up a bit before meeting them. They said their good byes at the front door, exchanging a hug. Just as Alain was walking away from the house, James and the girls drove up from the other direction. Martine waited at the door to greet her family. James reached her first and whispered "Was that who I think that was?"

  "Yes, we'll talk about it later," Martine replied with a wink as Sophie rushed to her, ready to show her mother what she got.

  Parte 9

  "So what happened, yesterday?" It was Sunday morning and James and Martine were still in bed, but they had been awake for about half an hour.

  "Well, he came about an hour after you guys left, he hadn't eaten so I made him breakfast and then we moved into the living room and we had a good, long talk," Martine responded. "I gave him the options of being in our life or just me being in his life."

  "And?"

  "I didn't want to pressure him for an answer, so I invited him for dinner tonight. I told him he can tell me what he decides then. Are you sure you are okay with this?" Martine had been lying on her back and turned to look at James. After being married for fourteen years, she could tell when he was lying.

  James turned to look her in her eyes; he reached out and caressed her jaw line. He looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time, "Martine, I am more than okay with it, in fact, it would be nice to have another man around. I won't feel so overwhelmed by all of your feminine charms."

  He leaned in and Martine met him in the middle, sharing a sweet, comforting kiss. The kiss grew in intensity and before long, they were both naked. Between kisses, they professed their love for each other and just as they were going to go further, there was a knock on the bedroom door. They froze.

  "Maman. Dad. Are you guys up?" Sophie's voice carried through the closed door. The girls knew better that to barge in when their parent's door was closed, but they knew that love-making was out of the question that Sunday morning.

  "Hey, Sophie, we're up. We'll meet you down in the kitchen," James called out as he threw back on his clothes. He then went into their bathroom, grumbling to himself. Martine smiled to herself as she put back on her night clothes. They loved their daughters but they popped up at the most inopportune times.

  "Honey, I'm going downstairs and get started on breakfast," she called through the bathroom door. Martine slipped on her robe and went to the kitchen. "Hey, Soph, good morning, baby," she kissed her daughter on her forehead. "Where's your sister?"

  "She's still sleeping. Maman, can I ask you a question?" Sophie asked, hopping on one of the kitchen stools.

  "Mmm?" Martine was now looking in the refrigerator.

  "Is Alain related to us?"

  "Why do you ask, Soph?" Martine tried to keep her voice normal, but she kept her face behind the refrigerator door.

  "Well, Bianca and I were talking last night and she pointed out that Alain kinda looks like us, but you know, lighter in complexion. And when I thought about it, he did, so I thought it was best to ask you," Sophie replied.

  Martine closed the refrigerator door and looked at her
youngest child. The expression on Sophie's face told her that this topic would not be changed easily. Even if it was, it would be brought up again when she least expected it. She sighed, "Go and wake up Bianca, and the two of you meet me in the living room."

  Parte 10

  The girls found their mother in the living room, sitting on the couch. She beckoned them to sit on either side of her. She took a deep breath and began to tell Sophie and Bianca the truth.

  "When I was about two years older than Bianca, I moved to a small town in France with my Aunt Josephine. I was one of three black students in my school and it was hard making friend as the local kids grew up among each other. It was hard being a new kid, then a boy a year older than me befriended me. At first, we were just friends, but then we became more."

  Although she was talking to her daughters, Martine was staring ahead as though she was looking into the past, "He took me to my first concert, and we went to the seaside during the summer. We became intimate and it was my first time. I was so in love with Pierre," Martine sighed.

  "I missed my first period and I thought it was because of stress. When I missed my second one, I got worried, so I took a bus to a town two towns away. I found out I was pregnant, I was scared but happy. I was carrying Pierre's child. I returned home and went straight to him. I told Pierre that he was going to be a father. He grew angry, he said awful, mean things. He said he didn't love me, he only wanted to sleep with a black girl because he wanted to see how it was different. Plus he questioned if the baby was his," a tear streaked down Martine's cheek.

  "I was so shocked at what he said that I fell into a deep depression and it was only when I was showing that my aunt knew that I was pregnant. It was too late to do anything but go through with the pregnancy. If it wasn't for my aunt, I don't know what would have happened," she got up and walked across to the piano. On top of it sat a collection of picture frames. Martine picked up a picture of her aunt. Her aunt had died five years ago and true to her word, she took Martine's secret to her grave.