Chapter Nineteen

That Christmas was the best I’d had for some time. The weather was freezing, and we even saw a few flakes of snow in Paris; but Jean-Marc and I were warmed and comforted by the new light of our love. He didn’t return to Bordeaux, except to get his things, and I went with him to do that. He stayed temporarily with Marguerite and Jules until we could find an apartment for him. We were determined to not be separated too far ever again.

In January, Jean-Marc began to work at my father’s bank and to attend college, studying—of all things—accounting, for he shared my fascination with numbers. I too was taking classes, though we didn’t share any since I was three semesters ahead of him. We rented a small apartment near my parents where he stayed, a place we would soon share. My bed and couch looked very good in the stylish apartment, and weekly we added new items to make it more comfortable. My mother especially went wild, buying things until, laughingly, we had to beg her to stop.

Paulette and Pierre were married civilly in February. They had chosen not to wait for Paulette to be a member one year before marrying. Considering their ages and their growing closeness, it was the best decision for them. We drove with my parents to Bordeaux to attend the wedding. My parents, who had gone principally to meet Jean-Marc’s family, were amazed at the change in Paulette.

Paulette herself seemed more amazed than anyone. “I can’t believe I’m actually marrying Pierre!” she whispered to me just before the ceremony. We were in one of the classrooms in the church, standing before a huge mirror that Elisabeth, now large with her pregnancy, had set up for the bride.

I stared at Paulette in wonder. She had changed so much since that day I had found her sprawled on the sidewalk. Her light brown eyes were clear of drugs and shining with love. Her rich brown hair now gleamed lustrously and was arranged in artful waves. Her hands, once dirty with broken nails, were now clean and strong, the nails cut short and even. Her skin was clear, and the pain and sadness that had aged her were gone. But the biggest change was in her spirit—the confidence and vigor she had for life, the faith in her Savior, the love she had for Pierre and, at long last, for herself.

Shortly after Paulette’s wedding, I received a letter from Jacques saying that he was to be paroled within the year. He had seen the missionaries a few times and was taking school courses in the prison as well. Maurice was also coming to church and listening to the missionaries—befriended by Aimee, of all people.

The first week in April, Jean-Marc and I were married at our church house in Paris. A few weeks after our civil marriage, we went to the temple in Switzerland to be sealed for time and all eternity. I was grateful that years earlier, Church policy in Europe had been changed to allow those without access to a temple but who held recommends at the time of marriage to be sealed as soon as they could go to the temple instead of waiting an entire year. I was saddened that my parents were unable to attend my temple wedding, but Jean-Marc’s family was there in force, including aunts and uncles and many cousins. Even Pierre and Paulette were there, though Paulette could not yet go through the temple.

Before our sealing, Jean-Marc was baptized and endowed in behalf of Antoine. Only then did we go to be sealed for time and all eternity. Having previously obtained Jacques’ consent, we also had Nette sealed to us. Feelings of absolute contentment radiated through my entire being. My baby at last had an eternal family!

After the short ceremony, we went hand in hand to the celestial room to sit together before leaving the temple. I glanced at the couch opposite us and noticed with surprise that the man sitting there had a baby in his arms. I looked over at Jean-Marc to see him staring at the same thing.

“He looks like you . . . it’s . . . your brother!” he whispered, and I quickly looked again to see Antoine with little Antoinette in his arms. Both seemed happy and content.

Jean-Marc and I turned to each other in amazement, but when we glanced back at the couch, they were gone. “Did you—?” I began, feeling a warm happiness spread through me.

“Yes, I did, Ari! I did!”

* * *

Rain beat against the windows in a steady torrent, as it had done for the past few days. I sat by the window, looking out into the February night. Occasionally, lightning shot through the darkness, and thunder sounded like a giant screaming in agony, echoing the swelling pain in my body. I’m happy, I thought fiercely with joy, even through the terrible, crashing pain.

Indeed, the last ten months had been the happiest of my entire life. There had been no real period of marriage adjustment for Jean-Marc and me; our missions had prepared us well for constant companionship and sharing. Our love had already learned patience and faith; and that, I knew, was half the battle.

Thunder crashed again both outside and within, and with the glow from the lightning, I saw my parents’ car. “They’re here!” I yelled, gritting my teeth against the contraction that seemed to pulse throughout my entire body.

Jean-Marc helped gather my things and carried them down to the waiting car. We had our own car now, but I wanted my husband beside me, holding my hand through the contractions instead of fighting the traffic. So I had called my parents the minute I realized that the false labor I’d been having for weeks had finally become real. Besides, this time I wanted my whole family with me.

Four hours later, I gave birth to twins—a girl, whom we named Josette after my mother, and a boy, called Marc for his daddy. The love that swelled in my heart as I touched and kissed them seemed to equal the fervent emotion I had felt for my first baby, Nette. My happiness knew no bounds. Yet I knew that I felt the joy of my present life more intensely because of the pain I’d experienced in the past—and it was worth it.

“Uh, I guess I won’t be working for you anymore, Father,” I said, looking up into his happy face as I lay on the bed with a warm baby cuddled in each arm. Jean-Marc sat beside me, stroking my hair and gazing down at our children with reverence and love and not just a little awe.

“Well, under the circumstances, I won’t require a month’s notice,” my father said, smiling.

My mother also looked happy. “It’s a lot of work, Ariana, having twins, but they’ll take care of each other later on.” She wiped a tear from her face, and I knew she was thinking about Antoine, but this time the memories were happy. “And I’ll be over every day to help, if you want me to.”

“I do, Mother. Thank you.” There was silence as we stared at the babies, so recently come to earth from heaven.

“Just so you don’t go on Wednesday at seven, Josephine,” my father said. “Remember, we have an appointment.”

“What!” I said, pretending indignation. “What’s more important than these two precious babies?” To emphasize my words, I kissed each little forehead and looked up at my father.

“Well, uh, we . . .” I had never known my father to fumble for words and wondered what could cause such a thing. I waited curiously while he got himself under control. “You see, the other day some young missionaries from your church knocked on our door, and we decided to hear what they have to say. Not,” he held up his hands quickly, “because we want to join but because we feel it’s time we understand our daughter and what she believes.”

“That’s wonderful!” I exclaimed with a silly smile on my face. I suddenly remembered seeing Antoine and Antoinette in the temple on my wedding day. We’ll see our whole family there yet, I promised them silently. We have time.

My eyes moved to the window, where rain was still beating at the panes. But the sight of the falling drops no longer brought sadness and despair to my heart as they once had. They would always remind me of those I had lost, but the emptiness was completely gone. And now I had a new, happy memory to add to the good rainy-day recollections Jean-Marc and I had already made together.

“It’s just as you promised, Jean-Marc,” I said softly, looking up into his sparkling green-brown eyes. “I think I’m really starting to love the rain.”