Chapter 6: The Baby Shower
At 1:52 p.m., I arrived at the Grand Meridian Hotel.
The ballroom entrance was decorated with white roses, gold balloons, and a giant illuminated sign that read:
*WELCOME, LITTLE MERCER!*
A photographer stood near the entrance, directing guests toward a display of framed ultrasound photographs.
I recognized several faces.
Roland's cousins.
His business partners.
Old family friends who had stopped calling me after the divorce.
And, standing beneath the enormous floral arch, Camille.
She wore a pale blue maternity dress that hugged her pregnant stomach. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. Diamonds glittered at her ears.
When she saw me, her entire face brightened.
"Evelyn!""
She hurried toward me, one hand resting protectively on her belly.
For a moment, I almost admired her acting.
She looked genuinely delighted.
Then she leaned close and whispered:
"I wasn't sure you'd actually come.""
I smiled.
"Why wouldn't I?""
Her eyes moved toward the silver gift box in my hands.
"Oh, you brought something.""
"I wouldn't arrive empty-handed.""
She laughed.
"That's sweet.""
Then she raised her voice so the surrounding guests could hear.
"Everyone! Look who's here!""
Several people turned.
Camille wrapped her arms around me before I could step back.
The hug was tight.
Her perfume filled my nose.
"I really wanted us to put the past behind us," she said.
I returned the embrace without enthusiasm.
"Of course.""
She pulled away and looked directly at my stomach.
Then she smiled.
"I know it must be difficult for you.""
I tilted my head.
"What must be difficult?""
"Being here. Seeing everything.""
She touched her belly.
"Sometimes life gives us things in unexpected ways.""
One of Roland's aunts, Patricia, approached.
"Camille, darling, you look radiant.""
"Thank you, Patricia.""
Patricia turned toward me.
"Evelyn. How brave of you to come.""
I gave her a polite smile.
"Why would attending a baby shower require bravery?""
She looked uncomfortable.
Camille laughed.
"Oh, Patricia, don't embarrass her.""
I watched Camille place a hand on the older woman's arm.
"She and Roland had a difficult time starting a family. But we're all moving forward now.""
Patricia nodded sympathetically.
"Well, at least there's a baby in the family.""
I looked at Camille.
"Yes. There certainly is.""
She smiled wider.
"Would you like to see the nursery photographs?""
Before I could answer, she pulled me toward a display table.
There were dozens of framed pictures.
The first ultrasound.
The nursery.
A tiny pair of blue shoes.
A photograph of Roland holding Camille's hand at a medical appointment.
I stopped at the final picture.
It showed Camille and Roland standing in front of a fertility clinic.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"" she asked.
I examined the photograph.
"Very.""
"Roland was so emotional that day.""
I looked at her.
"Was he?""
"Oh, yes. He said he'd never been happier.""
I leaned closer to the frame.
The date was printed in the lower corner.
Six months earlier.
I remembered that date.
It was the same week the $500,000 payment had been authorized.
"Interesting," I murmured.
Camille frowned.
"What?""
"Nothing.""
A waiter approached with champagne.
I declined.
Camille accepted a glass of sparkling water.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"" she asked.
"So far.""
"Good. I was worried you might feel uncomfortable.""
"Why?""
She lowered her voice.
"Because Roland has moved on, Evelyn. You need to understand that.""
I looked at her for a long moment.
"Camille, do you ever get tired of pretending?""
Her smile faltered.
"What?""
"Nothing.""
Before she could respond, Roland appeared.
He wore a light gray suit and a blue tie.
His expression changed when he saw the silver gift box.
"What did you bring?""
"A gift.""
He glanced at Camille.
"She shouldn't have brought anything.""
Camille laughed.
"Roland, don't be rude.""
He took my arm and guided me several steps away.
"What are you doing?"" he whispered.
"Attending a baby shower.""
"You know what I mean.""
I looked at his hand on my sleeve.
"Let go.""
He released me.
"Did you give the documents to the board?""
"Some of them.""
His face tightened.
"Evelyn, you need to understand that this affects more than me.""
"Then you should have thought about that before diverting employee funds.""
He glanced toward the guests.
"Not here.""
"Why? Afraid someone might hear?""
He leaned closer.
"You don't know the full story.""
"I've heard that several times today.""
"Then maybe you should start listening.""
I looked at him.
"Did you know about your infertility diagnosis when we were married?""
His expression went blank.
The noise of the ballroom seemed to fade.
Then he looked away.
"Where did you get that information?""
"Answer the question.""
He swallowed.
"That's private.""
"Not when you spent six years blaming me for it.""
His eyes flashed.
"You don't understand what I was going through.""
I stared at him.
"I understand exactly what you were going through. You were lying to your wife while watching her destroy herself trying to give you a child.""
He stepped back.
For a moment, he looked almost ashamed.
Then Camille called from across the room.
"Roland! Come here. The cake is ready!""
He glanced toward her.
"Stay away from her," he whispered.
I smiled.
"Which one of us?""
He walked away without answering.
At two-thirty, the guests gathered around the enormous white cake.
Gold lettering spelled out:
Our Little Miracle.
A photographer asked everyone to move closer.
Camille stood in the center, Roland beside her, and Alistair on the other side.
I watched Alistair carefully.
He looked uncomfortable.
He kept checking his phone.
Once, when Camille turned away, he looked directly at me.
Then he gave the smallest shake of his head.
I didn't know whether he was warning me or begging me not to do something.
The host announced that it was time for the gift opening.
Camille clapped her hands.
"Oh, I can't wait!""
One by one, guests brought presents to the table.
Tiny clothes.
Baby blankets.
Silver spoons.
A handmade rocking horse.
Camille thanked everyone with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Then she spotted my gift.
"Evelyn! Let's open yours.""
She pulled the silver box toward her.
I watched her fingers move over the ribbon.
"Actually," I said, "there's a card.""
She found the small envelope attached to the handle.
Her smile widened when she read the front.
"To Camille. With love.""
She opened it.
Her eyes moved over the handwritten message.
Open this before you cut the cake.
She laughed.
"Oh, that's mysterious!""
Roland glanced over.
"What is it?""
Camille lifted the silver box.
"Evelyn brought us a special gift.""
The guests leaned forward.
She pulled the ribbon.
The lid opened.
Inside was the silver baby rattle.
For a moment, Camille looked delighted.
Then she noticed the three sealed envelopes beneath the velvet lining.
"What are these?""
I took a sip of water.
"Something I thought you might need.""
She opened the first envelope.
Her eyes moved over the laboratory letterhead.
The smile disappeared.
She turned the page.
Then another.
Her fingers began to tremble.
Roland stepped closer.
"What is it?""
Camille didn't answer.
He snatched the document from her hand.
I watched his eyes move down the page.
His jaw dropped.
"What the hell is this?""
The ballroom fell silent.
Camille looked at me.
Her lips parted.
"Evelyn...""
I stood.
"Go ahead. Read it.""
Roland looked toward Alistair.
Alistair had gone completely pale.
The photographer lowered his camera.
One of the guests whispered, "What's happening?""
Camille opened the second envelope.
The medical report.
Roland's diagnosis.
The date.
The doctor's signature.
Her face drained of color.
"Where did you get this?"" she whispered.
"From the medical records you accessed using my former company credentials.""
Roland turned toward her.
"You knew?""
Camille shook her head frantically.
"No. No, that's not—"
"You knew I couldn't have children?""
"Roland, please.""
He grabbed her wrist.
"Answer me!""
Alistair stepped forward.
"Let her go.""
Roland turned on him.
"Shut up!""
The third envelope remained unopened.
I looked at Camille.
"There's something else.""
She stared at the envelope.
Then she looked at me.
"What?""
I placed my hands on the table.
"The money.""
Her eyes widened.
I continued.
"Five hundred thousand dollars. Paid from Mercer Holdings to your personal account six days after your pregnancy announcement.""
Roland slowly turned toward his fiancée.
"What money?""
Camille began crying.
"That wasn't for me.""
"Then who was it for?"" he demanded.
She looked at Charles.
The older man stood near the back of the ballroom, his face expressionless.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Camille whispered:
"Your father told me it was compensation.""
Roland looked as though someone had struck him.
"Compensation for what?""
Camille's eyes filled with tears.
She glanced at me.
Then at Alistair.
And finally, she said the words that changed everything.
"For keeping quiet about what happened before the pregnancy.""
Alistair closed his eyes.
Roland stepped backward.
"What happened?""
Camille shook her head.
"I didn't want this.""
I looked at the unopened envelope.
"Then perhaps you should tell everyone the truth.""
Charles suddenly moved toward the table.
"That's enough. The party is over.""
But before he could reach the documents, Alistair stepped between him and Camille.
"No," Alistair said.
His voice was shaking.
"She's not the one who needs to explain.""
He turned toward Roland.
"I am.""
The room became utterly silent.
Roland stared at his younger brother.
Alistair took a breath.
"That night, when you were supposed to be in New York...""
He looked at Camille.
Then at me.
"...you weren't the only person who was there.""
And just as he began to explain, the ballroom doors opened.
A woman in a dark green coat walked inside.
She was carrying a small leather folder.
I recognized her immediately.
It was Eleanor Mercer's former personal assistant.
Margaret.
The woman who had disappeared from the Mercer family shortly after my mother-in-law's funeral.
She walked straight toward me.
Then she placed the folder in my hands.
"Evelyn," she whispered, "your mother-in-law left this for you before she died.""
I looked down.
My name was written across the cover in Eleanor's unmistakable handwriting.
Beneath it were six words.
The truth about your first pregnancy.
I stopped breathing.
My first pregnancy?
May you like
I had never been pregnant.
Or at least, that was what I had believed for eleven years.
