“Well, we don’t have those traditions here, and I guess it doesn’t matter. We know his name.” Claire and Tony had chosen Nathaniel’s name after hours, days, and weeks of deliberating. They both knew their reasons and were happy with their decision. Though they’d kept the name between just the two of them, there was something about Madeline that made Claire want to share. She took a deep breath and peered around the kitchen. “I’m dying to tell. If I tell you—”
Madeline’s hand went into the air. “Madame el, I do not keep secrets from Francis.”
Claire didn’t care. Honestly, if Francis were with them now, she’d still feel confident in their combined confidentiality. “Not Francis, but everyone else, not until he’s born.”
Madeline nodded. “Very well, I’d love to know.”
“Our son’s name is Nathaniel Sherman Rawlings.”
“A handsome name. Why do you not want to tell?”
Claire took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, one that you and I’ve never discussed.”
“If you speak of that book, we do not read it.” Madeline looked up from the vegetables she was cutting. “This world is full with people who make things big, sensationalize. I will say, when your friend Meredith come to the island, we are surprised. She has the same name—”
Claire nodded. “She has the same name as the author of the book because she is. And yes, her publishers sensationalized some of it—I’ve read it. However, most of it is true.”
Madeline’s cutting stopped mid-slice. “No, Madame el. I know things. From the moment Monsieur Rawlings arrive on the island, I feel nothing but love. Those things that people said—”
“I can’t explain all of it. However, you’re right. We love one another—now and then. It’s almost as if the people in Meredith’s book were two different people than who we became. In some ways they were. The thing is that in this long, complicated story, our paths would never have crossed, we’d never have the love and the family we do now if it weren’t for our grandfathers. They met one another when I was about Nichol’s age: Tony’s grandfather, Nathaniel, and my grandfather, Sherman. Had it not been for them, we wouldn’t be here. I loved my grandfather very much.”
She sighed. “I didn’t know the professional man whom Tony met as a young man. I knew the kind, loving grandpa who told me stories, took me fishing, and listened to everything I had to say. I knew he had an important job, but that never mattered. He always made me feel special.” Her green eyes brimmed with tears. “I lost my grandparents and parents too young, but in the short time they were in my life, they gave me unconditional love and I’ll always be thankful for that.”
“And Monsieur’s grandfather?”
“I never knew him, but I feel as though I did.” Claire recalled the Anthony Rawlings of her past and the pictures and stories she’d heard of Nathaniel. “You see, I’ve seen pictures, and Tony looks a lot like him. The man Tony respected and loved was hard, yet like my husband, I believe it was a facade that he showed the world. Nathaniel made mistakes in his life and poor decisions, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he was the man my husband loved as a child. Tony chose to end the history of revenge when he named our daughter. She carries my surname: Nichols. We choose to further that mend and unite our two families with our son’s name. Nathaniel Sherman will carry both names of our grandfathers. Someday I want him to know that even though there are forces in the world that want to destroy what we hold dear, love and acceptance can overcome. If it didn’t, our Nate wouldn’t be coming into this world.”
“That is beautiful,” Madeline said with her hand to her chest. “Your Nathaniel will be blessed with the strength and love of both of his families.”
Claire smiled past the tears teetering on her lids. “Oh,” she said as her midsection painfully hardened.
“Madame Claire, are you all right?”
“I-I think.” The hardness persisted. “I’ve been having the Braxton Hicks contractions for some time.” She inhaled again. “This seems different.”
“Where is your phone?”
“No, Madeline, let me just rest. I don’t want to alarm anyone.”
“No.” Her voice was uncharacteristically hard. “I listen to you last time. Not today. Tell me how to reach Monsieur Rawlings, and we will have Monsieur Phil to take you to the hospital right now.”
The tightness only intensified. “All right.” Claire pointed toward the counter. “There’s my phone. Tony and Phil’s numbers are in there. Can you please call?” Claire eased herself from the stool and squatted near the floor. “Please, this isn’t letting up.”
DESPITE THE ERUPTING chaos around her, Claire tried to maintain her calm. Phil was almost as nervous as an expectant father as he drove toward the university hospital. “Did you call your doctor? Does she know we’re coming?”
“Yes,” Claire reassured. The tightening had subsided. Though her back was still hurting, she wondered if this was all a false alarm. “Maybe we should go back home. I’m not feeling it anymore.”
“Claire, we’re on the way. Rawlings is meeting us. Let’s just let them check you out.”
She began to puff her cheeks and blow in short bursts as the tightness returned. “Phil, Eric’s with Tony, isn’t he?” Claire knew her husband would think nothing of risking his own life to get to her. She didn’t want him driving on the snow-covered roads.