ReBorn

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Sitting at her desk, Mignon tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on the proposal she’d received from her broker. Instead, her gaze kept returning to the mahogany case that contained the journal . . . a written account of what boiled down to choices, both good and bad, of four generations of women in her family. Her own mother, Ana, had passed the journal down to her, opening a Pandora’s Box of revelations that would forever change Mignon’s life. She contemplated the impact of the journal on her life—like staring at her reflection in a mirror, forcing her to consider the consequences of choices she’d made and wonder how they’d affect her children in years to come. Her brow furrowed in consternation as she pondered whether she’d have the courage to write a true account of her actions, her history. Or whether she’d give in to the desire to gloss it over, and justify her indiscretions with excuses.

Lately it seemed as though she could think of nothing else but the journal and the effect of its contents on her life. Putting the proposal aside, she gave in and picked up the leather-bound journal. It had now been more than five years since her mother—the lastborn child of Carrie and Logan Daniels, and the baby sister of Odele, Sofia, and Eddie—had given it to her. At first, she had been puzzled at her mother’s timing in giving her the book. When she’d first received it, she thought it was purely a historical account of her great-grandmother and grandmother’s lives. Instead, the journal chronicled the lives of the matriarchs in her family, including her own mother, Ana, revealing startling accounts and confessions that had never been openly discussed. Even the truth of her own paternity had been revealed, although Mignon had yet to reconcile her feelings after finding out her father’s true identity.

After all these years of knowing the truth she still hadn’t initiated contact with her father—the Marquis. It was enough that she had met him once. Considering the path her life had taken, she couldn’t imagine why he had not told her that she was his daughter. He had played the role of charming tour guide, winning her heart, and then disappearing from her life when she’d met him in Paris, introduced as a friend of her mother. Each time she thought of him she was reminded of the disappointment she’d felt after he left and severed contact without explanation. So Mignon decided to follow his lead and let sleeping dogs lie. She would not allow her imagination to wander far enough to consider how it would feel to be the acknowledged daughter of French royalty.

Daydreaming, Mignon recalled the first time she met her biological father, Marquis Pierre Michel St. Honore, when she was thirteen years old. She had traveled to Paris with her mother, Ana Daniels, a famous songstress renowned in Europe as “Le Fonce Fille”—the Blackgal. Her mother had been selected to perform in a remake of a Josephine Baker classic. When Mignon first learned of her mother’s plan to move to Paris she was reluctant, not wanting to leave the states and make the trip to France. To her surprise, when their flight arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport they were surrounded by the Parisian paparazzi and whisked away in a limo to a beautiful townhome.

Mignon’s life changed almost overnight, as she was introduced to a lifestyle that she had never imagined. It was easy for her to understand why Paris had enchanted her mother. Once they were settled into the beautiful townhouse, her mother introduced her to the Marquis with the explanation that he was an old friend she’d made during the time she lived in Paris. Even now, Mignon found it hard to believe that she had been in her biological father’s company, laughing, talking, exchanging ideas, and had not in some way been able to make the connection. Maybe if she had seen the St. Honore birthmark, she would have recognized it as the same one that branded the back of her neck (and later, her children’s). Instead, after meeting her father she saw him only as her mother’s friend. Even though she knew Monsieur St. Honore had eyes only for her mother, to Mignon, Pierre was her first real crush. Each day she looked forward to the almost magical surprises and sights that he would plan for them.

After all these years, she still recalled the regret when he’d called to cancel their dinner plans. Disappointment had turned to devastation as the days turned into weeks, and there was still no word, or message that followed; they never heard from him again. This heartbreak, along with the one Mignon experienced after her mother’s divorce from the man she had been raised to believe was her biological father, shaped her expectations for men. Sooner or later, they would leave; sooner or later, they would disappoint, or hurt her. It was only after her own divorce that Mignon realized she had been a magnet, attracting the very type of man she feared. Although it had been more than five years since learning the truth of her paternity and the true identity of her father, she still had not asked her mother to explain her motive for misleading her and concealing her father’s identity from her.

As a parent herself, Mignon realized that sometimes circumstances could cause a person to respond to the situation at hand without thinking of the long-term effects. She also knew that it was possible to believe you are being protective without fully realizing that the repercussions may ultimately alienate you from the one person you’re seeking to protect.

Still, as a parent you proceed intent only on protecting your cub, willing to deal with the outcome… whether good or bad. She believed that her mother had acted out of protection, that the circumstances had prevented her from telling Mignon that she was the bastard child of Pierre Michel St. Honore. In retrospect, she was thankful—she had weathered enough storms without the additional burden of being marked by a scarlet letter. As far as she was concerned, everyone made mistakes; as a parent, she believed that, like her mother, she would inevitably make a mistake that may be perceived as unforgivable. So Mignon forgave, that one day she would be forgiven.

Anyway, the fact that she knew her father was a Frenchman of noble birth was of little or no importance to her in the scheme of things. If her biological father, Pierre, had not chosen to permanently exit their lives when he did, then Richard Warner—her stepfather; and the man that Mignon considered as her father, her dad—would not have entered their lives.

Consequently, Dad had been there throughout the trials of Mignon’s life. From her teen years through adulthood, Richard had played an integral part in her development. He was Dad to Mignon, and Pah Pah to her children. He had introduced her to God, insisting that she join the church, using his own life as his testimony. She became a willing follower as he taught her how and why, to tithe, to pray, to praise!

As an adult, she surprised herself when she first echoed the words “God bless you.” It was also as an adult that many of his lessons in life began to manifest and take form as she helped her husband attain his vision and realize her own greatness.

Dad’s presence taught her that although Pierre had donated his seed, Richard Warner was like the tenant sharecropper; even if he didn’t own the land, he tills the soil lovingly, watering and weeding, diligently protecting the seed from crows that would seek to eat the young fruit alive. But unlike the seedling that does not know the face that lovingly cares for and protects it, that grows only to produce fruit without allegiance to its protector and provider, Mignon knew who had cultivated her. She had been nurtured, watered, and protected, she had learned all over again to love and trust. Not in man, but in God. . . . She had indeed become a faithful student. Like any student she had struggled against acceptance of the lessons that had been lovingly imparted, but even in her rebellion her dad, Richard, had stood by her side. Mignon believed that was because Richard had led her to God; as a result, it was Richard’s calling to watch out for her.

As far as Mignon was concerned, it was too late for Pierre to try to walk in Dad’s shoes. Too many years had passed, and all of her significant life experiences had occurred without the knowledge or acknowledgment of his true identity. Now, at almost forty years of age, Mignon had reached a crossroads; she was entering the realm of midlife. Although society dictated that her youth should be behind her, she still felt as though her gaze remained on the climb assigned to youth and not on the platform of maturity assigned to a person’s forties. Now is the time for me to start writing my story, she thought, running the tips of her fingers lightly across the journal’s worn leather like a blind man reading Braille. Her facial expressions reflected fear and uncertainty, causing her brow to furrow and her fingers to pause in their caress. Feeling momentarily daunted, Mignon thought of the fact that the words she placed on paper would forever have an impact on the lives of her children, just as the stories in the journal had on her. I will have to write with the same courage that already fills the pages of this journal; the courage to be truthful about the paths that I have willingly chosen and the outcomes both good and bad.

In a nutshell, this is what made the leather-bound book so powerful: it contained the truth, good, bad, or indifferent. The journal had been a lifesaver for Mignon, helping to strengthen her resolve to move forward in difficult times. The lessons contained in the journal had taught her to have enough faith to place one foot in front of the other and keep on stepping.

At times Mignon would reflect on the paths that she had willingly taken in her life and the challenges she had faced in the span of the last five years. She knew it was easier to believe that any negative situation you found yourself in was a by-product of someone else’s poor decision. Mignon had a different belief because she had walked through more valleys in a five-year span than most people face in twice as many years.

After ten years of marriage Mignon left her husband, finally acknowledging that they had married for all of the wrong reasons and that wrong wouldn’t become right with the passage of time. In fact, just the opposite occurred. The disdain had lain dormant, leaving the appearance that it didn’t exist. But as with the caterpillar that encircles itself in a cocoon, an irreversible metamorphosis was taking place. Emerging from the cocoon, the butterfly leaves without a backward glance at the husk that once provided it shelter.

In the beginning she’d ignored the signs that indicated abuse; she naively thought the verbal abuse was an over exaggerated reaction resulting from a difference in opinion. She didn’t realize that verbal abuse is the toddler stage in a cycle that would ultimately escalate to physical confrontations and abuse. Even the fact that no amount of pretense could change the outcome, Mignon still second-guessed her decision to end her marriage. Like most women, especially those who have been historically victimized, she wanted to believe there was something worth salvaging from the years of emotional investment.

Although her husband, Gerald, had become increasingly violent, she allowed herself to be convinced that he should be given one last chance to prove things could change for the better. In her heart of hearts, Mignon wanted nothing more than for him to prove her wrong so she could return to their home again. Yet even as she was entertaining, the idea of returning home, the news of his latest infidelity confronted her in the form of another woman pregnant by him. During their marriage, she had counted three births that she was aware of. So Mignon finally accepted the fact that reconciliation was out of the question; she would only be reconciling herself to accept the very abuse she had run from. Facing up to her state of affairs, she chose not to allow her fear of being without a husband paralyze her and cause her to be ineffective. In the end, she had no choice but to accept that her marriage had run its course—that it was, in fact, finished for them. So Mignon filed for divorce and prepared to move back to Los Angeles with the calm assurance of a woman who expects to receive alimony and child support to help them move on, certain that the children would continue to be provided for as they had since birth.