SAFEHOUSE

Dr. Thibodeau patted my forearm again, helping to brush a piece of Alain’s hair back. “He’s perfectly healthy. He was a big boy for only being so far along, so he has that in his favor. There’s nothing to worry about with him.”

I held back the cry that was desperately trying to rise up my throat, when I saw my son’s sweet face. He was just as I had imagined, only more beautiful if that were even possible. His soft hair was wispy in some places and in thick clumps and others, making me chuckle. His eyes were closed at the moment, and he was sucking on his thumb, making the sweetest of noises. I could already tell that he had Julien’s dimpled chin, and my round cheeks to go with it. It would be fun to see what else he had inherited from both of us.

And now that I knew he was okay I could let out a sigh of relief, the aching that had been in my bones for so long finally starting to ease up.

I looked up at Julien, seeing the love he had for him reflected back in his eyes to me. I had never felt more at peace in my whole life. I had no idea what was going on outside of the room, but at the moment it just didn’t matter. All I had ever wanted was right here within arm’s reach. I finally had my family.

“You know… We still haven’t decided on a name,” Julien said, looking down at us.

“Alain… I want to call him Alain.”

–

Much later in the evening, once I had a chance to get up and move around and even shower properly, Julien filled me in on what had happened. I braced myself in the hospital bed, gently tracing a finger along Alain’s tiny foot.

According to Julien, the men who came to the house were Toli Balducci and his cousin, Bruce Cassamasina. They had been sent from not the Verdicci clan, but the Balducci family, surprising everyone that had been handling my case so far.

They had managed to find the place based on information from an inside source, and Julien was adamant that they were hard at work on finding out just who this source was. He said he thought he knew, but he had to have better evidence to make the proper accusation, whatever the hell that meant.

Dr. Thibodeau left to go check on another patient for a little while, giving Julien and me some space with our son Alain. I thanked her as many times as I possibly could, so happy that we had been blessed with such a kind and caring doctor.

I sighed as Julien began to rub just under my shoulder blades as I rolled forward on the bed, hunched over one of my pillows in my lap. It felt so good to feel his touch again, however exhausted the two of us may be.

A few minutes into the impromptu massage, I could tell something was off with Julien. He kept pausing to wipe something off his face.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked him, slightly alarmed.

He shook his head as if he were actually going to get away with not answering me. No way.

“Julien please tell me. We’re supposed to be honest with each other, right? Or was that you just talking out of your ass?”

He snorted, even through his anguish. “You’re right.”

I waited as patiently as I could for him to continue.

“I just . . . I shouldn’t have left the two of you. This is where I’m supposed to be, and I wasn’t here for you. I planned on surprising you… I was coming home early. I almost lost you…”

“Shhh,” I hushed him, bringing his head down to mine. I looked him right in the eyes, shaking my head from side to side. “There was nothing more you could do. You were here when we needed you, and that’s what matters. There’s no point in worrying about what might have or could have happened. We’re safe now.”

It was hard to see him in so much pain like that. I wished I could have taken it from him and held onto it myself.

“There is something I wanted to talk to you about. We might as well hash it out now, while everything is still quiet,” I said.

He sat back into the chair beside the bed, running his hands through his hands and looking over Alain who was sleeping peacefully in his little bassinet.

“What’s that?”

I took a deep breath. “Now that we know that these people are serious about wanting to find me . . . what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to want to hear what Agent Wilson says about that…”

(Back to Table of Contents)

Chapter 40

I smile as Alain grasps the shovel with his chubby hand, giggling as he flings sand everywhere when he picks it up.

“Careful Alain! You don’t want to get sand in your eye, baby!” I call out to him, catching his attention only for a moment before he goes back to it.