Page 117 of Jane Deyre

One last thing... I found out from Edwina who my biological father is. It was a shock. Her sleazeball agent, Max Fuller. I chose not to get to know him better. I chose not to pursue a father-daughter relationship with him. I chose not to invite him to our wedding. Not easy decisions, but ones I chose. Ward understood. Max died of pancreatic cancer two weeks before our nuptials. We comforted a sad Edwina, who knew nothing about his advances. After his funeral, we took her out to dinner at Musso & Frank, their favorite restaurant. Martinis and steak. She was at peace.

Strangely, though he was not my biological dad, I consider Bertrand Mason my father. It’s hard not to think about him in the horrific state I found him in, but I do my best to think of him as the handsome young writer who fell head over heels in love with my mother. I found a first edition ofMiracle in the Rain, the one he gave to my mother when he first met her, and in it was a loving inscription, calling Edwina “the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on... the woman who will immortalize my book.”

And from what my mother tells me, I believe he loved me till the day he died. And loved her.

I am, however, going to keep my name. Go by Jane Deyre. I don’t feel like a Charlotte. Edwina thinks Jane Deyre suits me. It has the ring of stardom.

And it’s the name of the woman with whom Mr. Rochester fell in love.

So, now let’s fast-forward.

Our wedding is held on a beautiful evening in June. In the backyard of Thornhill. A year to the day that I first set foot on the property. The weather is mild. The twilight sky flush with pink streaks. The brilliant roses in full bloom.

It’s small and simple. Nothing like those over-the-top Hollywood weddings you read about inPeople. Only a dozen invited guests and the officiant.

Of course, my mother, Edwina. With her cat Pilote on her lap.

Sweet little Adele, my flower girl.

Dear amazing Grace, who I heard cry happy tears.

Detective Billings and his lovely “missus.”

And a few people I’ve recently gotten to know.

Manuel Mendez, his wife, Blanca, and their three kids, whom Adele adores. Especially his youngest daughter who also collects snails.

I owe this wonderful man so much, including my life. Had he not gotten Ward back to Thornhill when I was about to quit my job, and minutes before I was about to perish in the deadly fire, I wouldn’t be standing here. Ward always reminds me timing is everything and he’s right.

Finally, there’s one last person who is near and dear to me. I found her on Facebook. Mrs. Temple. My now retired teacher from Lowood Elementary, who gave me hope when I had none. Inspired me to pursue my dreams. To create my vision board... which sadly was destroyed in the fire. But I’ve already started to create a new one... And I have new and bigger dreams.

My diamond engagement ring catches the fiery glow of the setting sun, and my fairy-tale wedding gown, the one I’ve always dreamed of, billows in the gentle breeze. The man who’s loved me from the day I was born twines his fingers with mine. As we say our forever vows and kiss, I know all my dreams will come true.

We honeymoon in Capri. A place neither of us has been. A photo of the romantic Mediterranean island was on my new vision board.

Nine months later, I—we—give birth to a son.

Edward Bertrand Rochester.

EPILOGUE

Jane

Ten Years Later

My heart’s pounding against my chest. On tenterhooks, I clasp Ward’s hand. With my other hand, I clasp my treasured strand of pearls, the ones he gave me a decade ago. The final awards of the Academy Awards are about to be announced.

Best Actress.

Best Director.

Best Picture.

Reader, I’m up for Best Actress. My first time. For my performance in the role of Gabrielle Bright in the long-awaited sequel toMiracle in the Rain.Truthfully, I don’t stand a chance against the other incredible actresses. One Black. One Asian. One Latinx. And for the first time, a Native American. Hollywood has at last fully embraced inclusion. For the first time in Academy history, I’m the only Caucasian, yet feel so honored to be included among this deserved group of amazing actresses, whose ages range from twelve to seventy. All bets are on eighteen-year-old Kamana Swiftwater... the uber-talented Cherokee girl who portrayed the title role in the biopic,Sacajawea.

Honestly, her performance was mind-blowing. And it would be the first win for a Native American.

Two past winners, Viola Davis and Meryl Streep, are presenting the award. They saunter onto the stage, both looking stunning. After a scripted spiel that draws laughs from the audience, Viola tears open the envelope and stares down at the winner’s name. Tears form in her eyes. “And for best performance in a motion picture...”