Page 20 of After Paris

Chapter Twenty

Ruby

Saturday, July 5, 2025

7:00 a.m.

When I woke up the following day, I was exhausted. I’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. I’d been so damn angry. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Scott.

Scott had known me well at one time, and he still knew which buttons upset me. I hadn’t given in to his demands, but when he called me selfish for wanting a baby, I’d started to have doubts. My future was so uncertain, and I could be setting my child up for loss.

Three years ago, I’d have brushed off his comments, confident I could tackle anything. But I couldn’t conquer everything. I’d won this round with cancer, but like Jason used to say, that disease loved rematches.

It was frustrating not to be able to live like I had. I sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at my harried expression in the mirror above the dresser. I wanted the old me back.

My phone chimed with a text, and when I saw Jeff’s number, I nearly cried. Such a good man. He deserved more than I could give.

Jeff: Any breakthroughs yesterday?

Me: Making progress.

Jeff: Breakfast?

Me: Pass. Sorry. Exhausted.

Jeff: Dinner?

Me: Headed to Fairfax to see an old friend, Jason.

After a moment’s hesitation:

Jeff: The Jason with non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma?

What a memory.

Me: One and the same.

Jeff: I’ll drive.

Me: You don’t have to.

Jeff: What time?

As much as I wanted to be the brave soul, a little backup now would be excellent.

Me: 11 am

Jeff: CU

When he arrived precisely at eleven, I was waiting out front of the hotel wearing white linen pants, a black off-the-shoulder top, and flats. I’d tied a yellow scarf to the handle of my purse, which matched daisy-shaped earrings.

He rose out of a black Mercedes and approached the passenger-side door. “You look amazing,” he said.

“Thank you.” I slid on dark oversize sunglasses. “When did you start driving a fancy car?”

“The 2000 Toyota finally gave out.”

“Got your money’s worth.”

“Always.” He regarded me a moment and then opened the car door. Once I was settled, he came around and slid behind the wheel. He asked for Jason’s address and plugged it into his GPS. Seat belt on, he pulled out and said, “Want to tell me what’s eating you?”

I clicked my seat belt. “Hearing from Jason again has thrown me for a loop.”

His head cocked. “That’s all it is?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

When he reached a red light, he glared at me. “It’s more, Ruby. Remember, I’m a Jedi when it comes to your moods.”

I shifted, feeling a little like a bug under the microscope. “You’re a mind reader now?”

The stoplight turned green, and he drove through the congested city traffic. “How sick is he?”

“He won’t tell me. That’s why I need to see him.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t remember seeing much of him at all the last year you were in treatment.”

“You were traveling for work.”

“Eric and I talked.”

“Don’t be mad at Jason. He was free of cancer and running toward life. I’ll never fault him for that.”

“You aren’t running away.”

I sighed. “Don’t paint me as brave. I’m very average and doing the best I can.”

His jaw pulsed, and then he changed the topic. “Tell me about Cécile.”

The conversation shift was so welcome. “It looks like the story’s star is Sylvia, her dressmaker. I’m unsure what her full story is, but she appears to be a woman with many secrets.”

“Secrets make for a good story.”

“Yes, they do.”

“She made many costumes for Cécile’s movies, right?”

“She did.”

“Could you arrange to show some of the costumes at the opening nights? A traveling tour?”

“That’s a good idea. But I’m not sure Madame Bernard will agree.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

The busy streets of Old Town fed into the Beltway, and Eric eased into traffic.

“You get up here often, don’t you?” I asked.

“The company took on a few accounts in the area last year, so yes, I’ve been up here a lot. Let’s say the car knows the way.”

I glanced out the window, watching the highway rush past tall buildings that all looked identical.

“Scott called me yesterday,” I said.

Jeff’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “And?”

“He’s in town for work. Lucky me. I agreed to see him to close the door on us for good.”

“But?”

“He’s more of an ass than I remember. I’m not sure why I thought I loved him once.”

“But?”

I stared ahead as we moved past brick buildings. “He wants to destroy the embryos we created. He says it’s selfish of me to consider having a baby because I could die. And he’s now engaged. And he doesn’t like the idea of his and my biological child walking the face of the earth.”

Jeff muttered an oath. “He didn’t say that, did he?”

“Not exactly, but close. He wants all his children with the new pregnant fiancée.”

Jeff stared ahead, calculating the angles. “I saw the contract Eric drew up. It’s ironclad.”

“And I’m grateful my brother was thinking ahead when I couldn’t.”

“But?”

“But maybe Scott is right. Maybe I am being selfish.”

“How so? Those are your embryos.”

“But what if I end up like Jason? What if I get sick again? It’s feeling a little selfish to expect a long future.”

“We can all say the same. No one has a lock on tomorrow.”

“My future is on shakier ground than most people’s.”

“Scott’s gotten in your head.” His jaw pulsed. “What an asshole.”

“Yes. But even an asshole can be right.”

“Kick him out of your head, Ruby. He doesn’t deserve the space.”

He pulled off the Beltway and headed down a series of highways. We pulled into a tree-lined neighborhood. He parked in front of a brick colonial with a neatly trimmed yard, an aggregate driveway, and boxwoods cut into identical rounds.

“He talked about his yard a lot. He loves working in the garden.”

“Are you much for gardening?”

“No. Dirt under my fingernails, clunky shoes, bugs ... not my jam.”

He chuckled as he shut off the engine. “I’m a big fan of air-conditioning.”

“And fireplaces that can be flipped on with a switch. Gourmet kitchens rock. And I do love balconies overlooking a lovely garden.”

I remained in my seat, staring at the house. My heart thumped faster. “What am I going to find?”

“The only way is to go inside,” he said.

A sigh rushed over my lips. “Right. Let’s do this.”

He got out of the car and waited for me to join him. Together, we walked to the front door. I pressed the doorbell button, and within seconds, steady footsteps echoed inside.

When the door opened, Jason’s husband, Robert, stood at the threshold. He was tall and lean, dressed in crisp khakis, a white button-down shirt, and brown loafers. His hair was grayer and thinner than I remember from the pictures I’d seen of him, and dark circles smudged under his eyes. Robert and Jason had reunited right after Jason’s treatment, and they’d married a month later. Jason had faced a tenuous future and had every reason not to marry. But he had.

He smiled. “Ruby. I’d know that face anywhere.”

I hugged him. “I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m glad you came.”

I slid out of his embrace and held a trembling hand out to Jeff. “This is my friend Jeff.”

Robert stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

“I’m glad you brought someone. Jason is in rough shape.”

“When did he get sick again?”

“March. He had stomach pains, and I took him to the emergency room. The cancer had spread everywhere.”

“What about his follow-ups with his doctors?”

“He wasn’t going like I thought he was. He said over and over he wanted to be normal.”

“I understand that.”

“I’d be mad if he wasn’t so sick.” He fixed his jaw, found a smile, and looked at me. “You look amazing. How’re you doing?”

I crossed my fingers. “So far, so good.”

He reached for the door handle. “Please come inside. He’s on the sunporch.”

We followed Robert down a long center hallway through an all-white kitchen and onto a sunporch filled with plants. Jason sat in a recliner by a collection of ferns. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s “Our House” played. I knew the song because Jason loved hits from the 1970s.

Jason was painfully thin, and his skin was paper white. A thick patchwork quilt covered his skinny body. His eyes were closed.

With each step closer to the chair, my anger grew. We’d always promised never to talk about fairness and unfairness, but honest to God, this was unfair. Jason didn’t deserve this.

I pulled up a chair, sat beside him, and took his cold hand. His eyes fluttered open. He smiled when they focused on me. “Ruby.”

“Jason.”

“You look the picture of health,” he said. “And don’t say that I do. I look like shit.”

My frozen smile felt like a million others I’d seen when I was sick. “I imagined you on a sandy beach.”

“Robert and I went to the South of France for a vacation. It was amazing. You were right about the beautiful coastline, the bread, and God, the olive oil.”

“I still miss it all.”

“Have you been back to Paris?”

“No. Just restarting life.”

“You want to return?”

“Maybe for a visit. But I like being closer to home now.”

“I understand.” He rolled his head toward Jeff. “You her wingman today, Jeff?”

“You always had a great memory.” Jeff shook Jason’s hand.

“Both of you, sit. Tell me about this article you’re writing.”

I settled in an overstuffed chair by him. “I’ve gotten access to Cécile’s dressmaker’s diary. It’s fascinating.”

“It won’t take you much to bond with a dressmaker. How many times did you talk about the clothes in Secrets in the Shadows ?”

I laughed. “Fashion is its own form of resistance.”

A sigh leaked over his thin lips. “What has the dressmaker told you about Cécile?”

“I’m not certain. She was either a collaborator or maybe a spy.”

A thin brow arched. “A spy? Like a movie heroine. Very mysterious.”

“I don’t know Cécile’s entire story yet. But espionage adds more mystery to her 1942 disappearance.”

“The plot thickens.”

“I can’t wait to figure it all out.”

“You will.”

“Let’s hope.”

Jason shifted and coughed, wincing. He cleared his throat. “Jeff,” Jason said. “Do me a favor and take Ruby back to Old Town Alexandria. She needs to work on her article. As much as I love seeing you both, sitting here with me won’t do us any good.”

“I like sitting here with you,” I said.

Jason’s eyes drifted closed briefly before reopening. “I can barely tolerate myself now. And as you can see, I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

“I don’t mind if you sleep,” I said. “I’ll hang out here.”

“That’s creepy,” Jason said with a smile. “You and Jeff, get out of here.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

I kissed him on the cheek, knowing this was for the last time. “I love you.”

“Back at you.” He squeezed my hand. “Glad to see you and Jeff are finally together. He won my heart with the marching band.”

“We’re not together. We’re friends.”

Jason’s gaze turned serious. “Don’t waste any time, Ruby. Love him for as long as you can.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. But what if I don’t have that much time? Of course I couldn’t ask him, because I wasn’t wasting any more time complaining about fears of death and dying. “I will.”

Jason’s grip grew surprisingly strong, and his tone became more urgent. “Promise me, Ruby.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t withdraw and wait for it.”

It. Death. “I’m not waiting around. I’m here. I’m living my life.”

“Good. Squeeze every second dry.”