The French Magnolia

Chapter 2: Blue Bonnet Part 4

I wanted to leave as quickly as possible but knew that if I left the cafe in a disorderly manner, Luce would be sure to scold me. This was not just work but our livelihood and it was to be a priority no matter what was going on. She often reminded me that procrastinating was a lazy habit. With Marie and Theo’s help, we were able to get the cafe cleaned and prepped as if it were any other normal day and locked up the front door. I pulled the back door shut as I was the last to follow the trio of friends. “I’m going to the hospital now. Thank you both for all your help today.” I held out both hands with some money. “Edmond also said thank you and wants to pay you for your kindness and assistance.” Both of them scoffed at me and Marie folded her arms and gave a pout.

“We aren’t taking it. It isn’t every day Luce has a baby after all. We were happy to help, weren’t we?” Marie softly elbowed Theo in the ribs and gestured for him to be quick in agreeing with her.

“Of course!” Theo stated, grimacing more dramatically than necessary.

Marie and Theo left together and I went in the opposite direction to the hospital. I was nearly running but as I was wearing my new shoes, I decided to walk as briskly as possible. I did make a stop at the flower cart I passed by and got Luce a small bundle of fresh flowers. Continuing on, I finally reached the hospital. It was a small building and I always thought it had somewhat of a stale smell to it. I didn’t really like coming here as I remember coming too often when my father was ill. I was nearly fourteen when he passed away from an illness. I tried to put the sad memories of the last time I spent walking these halls in the back of my mind and remind myself of the joyous reasons we were here today.

I stopped at a desk with an older woman sitting at it. She was wearing a dark tweed skirt and matching top. She didn’t even look up when she asked me what I needed. I asked for directions to the maternity ward and what room Luce might be in. She flipped through some pages in her patient registry and stated in a monotone and lifeless tone, “Lucette Cotillard. Room 4. Take the stairs up one floor and go left. She is down that hallway.” Again she never looked up from the stack of papers on her desk as she gave directions. I ran up the stairs as quickly as possible and stopped when I was just outside of her room. A large number four was painted on the white wall and the door was just barely cracked open. I gave a soft knock before pushing it open.

The room had white walls on the top half and light green paint on the bottom. The tile floors made the room feel barren and void of comfort. The blinds on the window were raised and the sunlight shining through the room made Lucette look like she was glowing. She was lying in the small bed and was asleep. Edmond was seated in a chair in the corner and was watching her rest peacefully. When I walked in, he put his finger on his lips gesturing me to stay quiet. I wanted to hug Luce and had so many questions for her. Edmond stood up from the chair and crossed the room in only a few steps as his long legs created a broad gait. He put his arm around my shoulders and escorted me from the room and gently shut the door behind us. “She just fell asleep. She has worked so hard and we should let her rest.” He could tell that I was struggling to contain my excitement and I was looking up and down the hall to where the baby was, as I saw no cradle in the room.

“Would you like to see the baby?” Edmond asked as he kept his hands on my shoulders; I am sure it was to keep me grounded because I was able to take flight at the idea. I pressed my lips together, beamed a broad smile, and nodded enthusiastically. Edmond turned to me and guided us further down the hallway and stopped at a large window. Behind the glass was a room filled with small bassinets, some were empty, some had sleeping babies, and some had children who were crying out to one of the nurses looking for food or comfort. I was looking from bassinet to bassinet, searching for a name or some indication of which baby was Edmond’s.

“That one there, right in front.” Edmond put his finger on the glass and pointed to this tiny cherub wrapped in a white blanket and wearing a baby blue bonnet on his head. He was sleeping as peacefully as Luce was in her own bed. There was a small piece of paper with his birthdate, weight, and ‘Cotillard’ written in delicate cursive. “We named him George Pierre after both our fathers. He is perfect, Giselle, absolutely perfect.”

I felt a single tear roll down my cheek and I dared not wipe it away. I leaned into Edmond’s embrace and could feel his heart beating strong and steady. “Yes, he is Ed. Welcome to the world, little George.”