Paris - Chapter Nine
FLASHBACK CONTINUES - Tuesday
JC tore open the package. The first thing that caught
his eye was Annie’s letter, sitting on top.
Dear Josh,
I saw you and the guys on TV tonight. I have to say
your performance took my breath away. From the first
time I met all of you, I knew you’d be going place.
Congratulations! It was wonderful.
Although I have forgiven you in my heart, I just can’t
find it in myself to trust you again. I wish I could
and maybe in time I will. To harbor ill feelings
towards you will only make me bitter and hard to the
world. I don’t want that.
I wish you joy and happiness, and I pray the Lord
continues to bless you in all you do. Goodbye, and
have a prosperous life.
Annie
P.S. Here is the picture that I painted for you. I
hope that you like it. I was very pleased with how it
came out.
JC looked back in the box to see the picture resting
underneath where the letter had been. He took it in
his hand, studying it in its silver frame. The face
staring back at him was his own, but with longer hair.
Annie had been right; he did look better with it like
that.
Possibly feeling slightly jealous that JC had gotten a
package and they hadn’t the rest of the guys came up
behind him to peer over his shoulder.
Joey let out a low whistle. "Wow."
Justin nodded. "She’s really captured you."
Lance took his turn admiring the artwork. "That’s
fantastic."
Chris grabbed JC in a headlock, mussing up his hair.
"How and why did you let her get away?" he laughed,
taking on what seemed to be his perpetual role as big
brother.
Meanwhile, Joey, who seemed to be developing some sort
of attention disorder, had already become bored with
the painting and was now rooting through the other
contents of the package. "Hey look! There’s more stuff
in this box." He pulled out a stack of photos. "What’s
this?"
Joey started looking through them, Justin joining him.
The latter pointed at them. "These look like some of
the videos you like to watch, Joey." This prompted
Joey to quickly drop the photos on the floor and get
into a very lively wrestling match with Justin.
Lance sighed, then picked up one of the fallen
pictures, looking at it curiously. "JC, have you ever
seen these?"
JC glanced up from the painting of himself. "No."
The southern boy held one out to him. "Well, you might
want to now."
He put down the frame and came over to where Lance
stood a worried expression on his face. "Why?"
Lance tossed one at him. "Because they’re all
obviously staged."
"What?!" JC studied the stack Lance had given him.
"Didn’t you say you didn’t, couldn’t, remember what
happened that day?"
"Yeah."
"Well, look at this." Lance pointed at one of the
photos. "For one thing you have a huge lump on the
back of your head." His voice grew quieter. "Plus,
you look unconscious."
JC’s head jerked up. "Then I never."
Lance shook his head. "Nope"
"But" JC scratched the top of his head. "Annie must
have seen these. I mean, they’re in the box she sent
to me." He went to the next picture. "I don’t
understand."
"Hey, there’s still more stuff in the box." Justin had
somehow escaped the wrath of Joey intact and was now
pulling out the bracelet JC had bought for Annie.
"Jace, isn’t this the same one you bought in Ireland?"
Chris was now joining in the search through the box.
"And here are some pictures of Annie and that one guy
in the Paris airport." He squinted at them. "Looks
like she’s putting on an engagement ring."
"What?!" JC dropped the photos he had been holding and
rushed over to see what Chris had.
"Why didn’t she say something about this in the
letter?" He looked away, crushing the picture in his
hand. "Why? Why is she being so hurtful, so cruel?
Especially since she must know the pictures are
bogus."
Chris shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. Maybe she
just wanted to hurt you like she thought you hurt
her."
JC put a hand to his forehead. "I’m so confused."
Lance put his hand on JC’s shoulder. "I think it might
be best if you move on."
"You’re right." He took one last glance at the photo
in his hand, then threw it to the floor, a tear
running down his cheek. "It’s over."
Paris – Tuesday evening
Claude angrily handed the pictures to Jacques. "What
is going on?!" He growled, furious. "I found these in
a box Annie left behind. After my initial shock, I
examined them more closely and realized JC was telling
the truth. Babette staged the whole thing." His eyes
bored into those of the young man.
"Does Annie know? Did she ever really and I mean
REALLY look at them?"
Jacques looked away. "No. Babette left them for her
the day of the accident. I found a lot more while we
were helping to clean out Babette’s flat. After that
tragic afternoon, Annie and I never talked about the
pictures." He now looked Claude genuinely in the eye.
"I didn’t want to bring back painful memories to her."
"Jacques, what are you hiding?" Claude narrowed his
eyes. "Tell me the truth. You’ve never lied to me
before."
The young man could no longer hold the elder’s gaze.
"Grandpere, I love Annie so much, but she doesn’t love
me. Well, not in the way that I love her."
Jacques took a deep breath. "I asked her to marry me,
and she turned me down. So I figured if I waited long
enough, then one day, one day she would love me."
He clenched one fist at his side. "But JC stood in the
way. She still loved him or still does even now; I’m
not sure which. So, I figured if I sent the rest of
the photos, Annie’s’ bracelet which I found at
Babette’s and a picture of her accepting my ring, he
would finally give up and go away for good." A tear
traced its way down his cheek. "I’m not proud of what
I did. Please believe me when I say that I am truly
sorry, Grandpere."
Claude sighed. "Jacques, I am disappointed in you, but
I understand. You were confused and misguided in your
thinking. Sometimes love does things like that to a
person but that is still no excuse for this. We’ll
have to straighten it out." He shook his head. "I will
write Annie and explain this sorry mess to her." He
returned his hard gaze to his grandson. "Agreed?"
"Yes. Grandpere I’m so sorry."
"I know, and I forgive you." Claude began to move
towards the door. "But it is not my forgiveness that
you must obtain. " It’s Annie and JC’s. He sighed,
deeper this time. "I am suddenly very tired. Goodnight
Jacques." On his way out, he turned one last time. "I
love you, never forget that."
Jacques nodded. "I love you too, Grandpere.
Goodnight."
That night, in his sleep, Claude quietly went home to
be with the Lord.
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