Epilogue

 

Reims, France ~ March 15th, 1919

 

Christian was sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper.  He closed it with a satisfied sigh.  Today the last installment of his story had been published. He couldn’t help but take pride in the story of the beautiful French courtesan and the penniless poet who taught her love.  The local newspaper bought his manuscript several months before as the war was ending. 

          The publisher had misgivings about running a love story at such a serious time, but Christian had convinced him that his “fairy tale” would raise people’s spirits. 

          Christian was right.

          His story had been an enormous success.  The newspaper received dozens of letters every day from readers expressing their love for the story.  Many young girls had even written asking if the handsome Mr. James was unattached, only to be disappointed to find out that he was very happily married.

          Not only had his story been helpful for the public, it had also been a healer for himself as well.  The combination of writing the story and the praises it received had done a great deal to mend his battered soul.

          Christian was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a tiny voice squeal, “Daddy!” 

          “Good morning my sweet girl!”  he said enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Sara and gently tickling her belly.  “Did you sleep well?”

          Sara nodded, her shining brown curls bouncing energetically.  Mmm hmm.  I had a dream though!   Do you want to hear about my dream, Daddy?”

          Christian smiled.  “Of course I want to hear about your dream, sweetheart.”

          As Sara proceeded to tell him her dream of fairy princesses and magical forests, Christian couldn’t believe the changes that had occurred in not just his life, but everyone around him.

          The war was over and the world was slowly getting back on its feet.  Wounded soldiers were returning home in the same devastating state he had.  He pitied their wives, knowing that he would never forgive himself for the pain he had inflicted on Satine when she had tried to help him. 

          After the life changing night that Satine had come into their room and demanded he open up to her, there hadn’t been instant improvement.  No, there had still been nights when he woke up crying and mornings when he almost refused to get out of bed.  But Satine had never given up on him.  Even when he had been at his worst, Satine had held him and soothed away his pain.

          “Daddy?  Daddyyy?!” Sara said, lightly shaking Christian’s shoulder.  “Are you listening about my dream?”

          “Yes, Angel,” Christian smiled and removed one of Sara’s curls from her face.  “You have a very vivid imagination.”

          “I want to be a writer like you, Daddy,” she said, a wide smile on her face and her eyes fixed in adoration of her father.

          “A writer?” teased Christian.  “But yesterday you said you wanted to be a police officer.”

          Sara rolled her eyes.  “I know that Daddy, I’m going to be a police lady that writes.”

          Christian laughed.  Sara had definitely inherited her mother’s dramatic flair.  “I think Mama is coming down with your brother.”

          Sara smiled and leapt from her father’s lap.  “Good morning, Mama.”

          Satine emerged from around a corner, eyes puffy and hair tousled with a tiny baby boy in her arms.  “Good morning, Sara.” 

          Christian could tell that Satine was exhausted.  Neither of them had gotten much sleep since Alex had been born, but it always seemed as if the mother took the brunt of the fatigue.

          He got up and took their son from Satine’s arms.  Very gently he whispered, “You’re so tired, love.  Go back to bed.”  When she made a move to protest he continued, “I’ll keep Sara and Alex busy while Catherine makes pancakes.  We’ll wake you when it’s time to eat.”

          Sara grasped a hold of Satine’s leg.  “Yes Mama, get some more sleep.  You need to have rest because we’re going to the park today, ‘member?”

          Satine leaned down and pressed a light kiss on her daughter’s forehead.  “Yes I remember, I’ll need my energy.” She winked at Christian.  “Now you keep these boys in line while I’m upstairs, all right?”

          Sara giggled and flung her arms around her mother’s neck, nestling her cheek against Satine’s.         

          Satine patted her daughters soft head of ringlets and made her way back towards the stairs.  She turned and subtly mouthed, “Love you” so only Christian could see before disappearing behind a corner.

          Christian blushed, he still couldn’t contain the exhilaration he felt at his and Satine’s innuendos, no matter how small.  Age hadn’t dulled their love a bit, if anything, it was only getting stronger.

          With that, Christian walked into the living room, his baby boy in one arm and his little girl holding onto his index finger.  He asked Sara to bring him a storybook from the coffee table.  She obeyed and snuggled up to her father and brother on the couch.

          Sighing contently, Christian opened up the book, blissfully happy at this new chapter of his life that was beginning.

          “Once upon a time…”

 

 

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