Page 51 of The Holiday

After about twenty minutes, we arrived at a stone house in the suburbs that had a Volvo sitting in the driveway. Julien turned off the car and jumped out with the ease of youth, waving for me to follow.

“Hello!” A woman in a floor-length yellow dress came out of the kitchen with a baby on her hip. “I’m Quinn,” she said, passing the baby to Julien and reaching out her arms to hug me, which I accepted.

When she stepped away, I took a moment to look down at this surprising young woman, taking her in as I did: American accent; long dress with tiny flowers sprinkled all over it, its front cut in a deep V that showed off her lightly freckled chest; reddish hair barely contained in a loose knot on the back of her neck; lots of dainty gold jewelry.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” I said, turning to Julien and the baby. “And who is this?”

“This is Lex,” Julien said, bouncing the boy on his hip. Lex appeared to be about eight months old, and he gave me a gummy smile with two tiny teeth poking through on the top, and two more on the bottom.

I smiled at the baby and then looked back at Julien. “I feel like I missed a few of your big life events,” I said, eliciting a polite laugh from both of them.

“Let’s go sit and chat,” Julien said in his now-perfect English. He walked into a sunken living room with Lex, who he placed on a colorful mat on the floor so that the baby could sit and pick up rattles and blocks, gnawing and drooling on each item in turn.

“I’m finishing up lunch in here!” Quinn called out from the kitchen in the center of the house. “But I’m bringing out wine for you two.”

The house smelled of orange and jasmine, and the walls were hung with framed sketches and abstract paintings. The floors, a textured red-brick tile, were covered everywhere with throw rugs and baby toys. I looked around, marveling at the fact that Julien was a married father now, and not the teenage boy he’d been in my mind all these years.

We took our glasses of wine from Quinn and sat back on our respective couches, eyeing one another--not warily, but with caution--and I wondered what he might have to say that would warrant this visit. Part of me thought that if Etienne hadn't wanted to see me, she would have also banned her son from doing so, but Julien seemed to be here of his own volition, and was maybe even a bit pleased, or proud, to be showing me his wife and son.

"Tell me how you've been," I implored, crossing one leg over the other as Lex leaned onto his hands and ended up on all fours, where he rocked back and forth, gargling incomprehensibly. "I mean, other than the obvious." I smiled at the baby and gestured at the beautiful home that he and Quinn shared. "How did you two meet, by the way?"

Julien smiled. "I was surprised you never heard, but I spent some time in Washington D.C."

"I hadn't heard, no," I said, setting my wine glass on the rustic wooden coffee table. "College?"

"No, I was actually hired by a think-tank that wanted to focus on second generation politicians. There were several children of former presidents, a few sons and daughters of senators, and even some nieces and nephews."

"Interesting," I said. "Must be an organization that flies under the radar, as I'm afraid I actually haven't heard of it. But, to be fair, I've been off the political beat here for a bit. As you can imagine."

"Yes, I can." Julien paused, smiling softly as his son fell back onto his belly and pushed himself up again good-naturedly. "And I have meant to send my sympathies to you. Ruby was special."

We sat there for a moment with his words between us. I wasn't ready yet to talk about her with Julien, though ostensibly, that's what I was there for. "Did you meet Quinn at the think-tank?"

Julien laughed at this and glanced towards the kitchen, where his wife could be heard singing along softly to the music she was playing while she cooked. It sounded like Carole King.

"Actually, no. I met her in a bar one day after work. She was a college senior interning at a non-profit that focused on reversing climate change, and when I saw her sitting there, talking so intensely with a coworker about something, I just knew that I had to know her. I went up to her and introduced myself."

At this moment, Quinn walked into the room, nibbling a piece of cheese as she set a wooden charcuterie board on the table next to my wine. "I knew who he was right away," Quinn interjected. As she looked at Julien, she put her hand on her stomach in a way that I picked up on immediately: Quinn was pregnant again, but neither of them were saying anything about it, so I tore my eyes away from her small movement and refocused on her face. "My mother was always a little obsessed with the Hudsons," she admitted sheepishly, looking back at me as she rubbed her belly lightly, "so I'd seen photos and I knew who Julien was."

"Regardless," he said, smiling at her tenderly, "she was not impressed."

"I was not," she confirmed. Quinn walked over to Julien and bent over, kissing his head. "At least not at first."

Outside, the wind picked up, and the crunchy leaves on the trees blew around. Some of them pulled free and floated on the October breeze.

"The first thing she asked me was whether Ruby was as amazing in person as she seemed to be on paper." Julien smiled at Quinn as she stood next to him. He snaked an arm around her thighs, pulling her body closer, and she placed her hand on the back of his neck.

"That was your first question?" I asked her.

Lex squealed happily as he sat back on his diapered bottom and clapped his baby hands together. The young parents smiled at him proudly.

"It was." Quinn walked over and scooped up Lex, holding him close as she kissed his cheek and neck. I could imagine that the impulse to do so would be overwhelming sometimes; babies were just so damned cute. "I admired the way she grieved, and also the way she kept her silence on most things. As a young and impressionable girl, I thought she was the most beautiful, most tragic figure, and the fact that her husband had a son with another woman just fascinated me to no end."

Julien made a face as if to say, "Yep, that's me. The illegitimate son."

Quinn walked over and sat next to him on the couch, snuggling into her husband's shoulder. "Of course now the scandal of it has worn off--I'm a grown woman; these things happen--and I'm thrilled to no end that it did, because..." She trailed off, bouncing Lex on her lap like he was living proof of her gratitude for a former president's roving eye. "Things happen for a reason."

I leaned forward and took a small hunk of baguette and a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board.

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