Bittersweet (34 page)

“He didn't take much. And I think it would unnerve the kids if I started making changes. They already have enough to adjust to.” He knew it was like her to think of that, and to suggest to him he only “move” things, rather than tell him what to get rid of. That wasn't her style anyway, but she was also well aware that it was not her place to tell him what to do with his apartment. She was, as in all things, respectful of him, and he liked that. In all the months he'd talked to her, he had never felt threatened by her. Instead, she provided a safe haven for him. And then, she wondered about something. It seemed a safe question to ask him. “Are you going to bring the boat back here now?”

He looked thoughtful as he answered. “I haven't decided yet. It depends how long I stay, and I haven't figured that out yet. It depends how it goes.” He looked at her, and she assumed he was referring to his business, and how comfortable he was in the apartment. “I was thinking I might bring it to the Caribbean for a while. Maybe in April. That's a nice time of year in that part of the world. Have you ever been there?”

“It's one of the few places I've missed,” she laughed easily. “They haven't had any wars there.”

“They did in Grenada,” he teased.

“I missed that one.”

“Maybe if I bring the boat to Antigua, you and the children could come down for a few days, or over one of their vacations.”

“They'd love that,” she said easily, in spite of Aimee's seasickness, but she knew she could give her medication for it. And as she spoke to him, she saw Paul glance at one of Serena's pictures with a look of discomfort. There seemed to be one on every table, and she felt sorry for him. “Are you hungry?” she asked him then, trying to provide some distraction. “Would you like me to make you something to eat? I make a great omelette, or a peanut butter sandwich.”

“I love peanut butter.” He grinned, aware of what she was trying to do, and grateful to her for trying. But it was hopeless, and he knew it. Being in the apartment they had shared was like breathing Serena's perfume. “I love peanut butter, with olives and bananas.” He laughed at the face she made.

“That is disgusting. Don't tell Sam about it. It sounds like one of his concoctions. Do you have any here? I'll whip up something.”

“I don't think there's much here, but we can look.” He wasn't sure what was still in the freezer. And at least in the kitchen, he knew he wouldn't be so overwhelmed by memories. Serena never set foot in it. They ate in restaurants, hired a caterer or a chef, or Paul cooked for her. In eleven years, she had never once cooked him dinner, and had been proud of it.

India followed him through the dining room, with a huge antique table and silver everywhere, into the spartan black granite kitchen. It looked like something out of
Architectural Digest
, and she was sure that at some point they had photographed it.

But all they found were some ancient frozen hors d'oeuvres some caterer had left, and a neat row of sodas.

“Looks like you'll have an interesting breakfast tomorrow.”

“I didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I guess my secretary didn't think I'd stay here. She said she'd get me a reservation at the Carlyle in case I decided not to. I might try that tomorrow.” He looked at India with an odd expression, and she smiled at him. It was so good to see him. “I'm sorry I don't have anything to feed you, India.”

“I'm not hungry, I just thought you were,” and then she glanced at her watch. “You must be exhausted.”

“I'm holding up. It's nice being with you.” He wasn't happy thinking about being alone in the apartment with his memories, and all the reminders of Serena. He knew that all her clothes were still in her dressing room, and he dreaded seeing them. He hadn't asked anyone to do anything about them. And later, he would have to walk through all of it to get to his own closets. He cringed inwardly, knowing what he'd see there, her slippers and her dressing gown, and her handbags and dresses, all arranged in neat rows by color and designer. She had been incredibly organized and obsessive about everything, even her wardrobe.

“Tell me when you need to go back to Westport.” He didn't want her on the road too late. It was dangerous driving back alone, he knew, but he didn't want her to leave either. After all these months of talking to her, he wanted to be close to her, but he wasn't sure how to say it. And it seemed wrong here to even put an arm around her. She interpreted his correctness as a sign of the fraternal quality of their friendship, but he had no idea how to change that.

They talked about the children then, and his board meeting the next day. He explained what it was about, and told her something more about his business. And he asked her if she'd heard anything lately from Raoul. She hadn't mentioned him in a while, and he hadn't called her for any more assignments, which she said was just as well, since she didn't want to leave the children at the moment. The divorce was still too fresh a concept for them, and she wanted to be around to make sure they made the adjustment.

They talked for a long time, as they always did, and then finally he looked at his watch, and told her that he thought she should go, so she wasn't on the road too late. It was already after midnight, and she wouldn't be home till one in the morning. But as he walked her slowly to the door, he looked like a child about to lose his best friend, and for an instant, she hated to leave him.

“Will you be okay?” she asked protectively, forgetting for a moment that he'd been halfway around the world without her.

“I hope so,” he said honestly, but not entirely certain that he would be.

“If you're not, call me. I don't mind what time you call. Don't be afraid to wake me.”

“Thank you,” he said gently, and then he seemed to hesitate, as though he wanted to say something to her, but decided not to. “It's good to be here,” he said, looking at her, and not meaning the apartment.

“It's good to have you,” she smiled at the man who had become her friend, and meant it.

He went down in the elevator with her, and saw her
into her car, and pointed to the door locks as she nodded. She rolled down the window and thanked him again, and he said he'd call her the next day after his meeting.

“Does seven-thirty dinner tomorrow night sound all right to you?” he asked, and she smiled and nodded.

“Sounds great. How dressy is Daniel?”

“Not too much. Nice.” It was something he would have said to Serena, and India got it. The black suit, with suede pumps, and her pearl earrings. “I'll call you.”

“Take care …get some sleep …” she said as she drove off with a wave, thinking of him. He didn't even have warm milk there to soothe him if he needed it, and on the way home, she worried about him. It was wonderful having him there, better even than talking to him on the phone, and if she'd let herself, she'd have allowed her thoughts to run wild about him, but she knew she couldn't do that. She turned on the radio, and hummed to herself, thinking about dinner the next day with him at Daniel.

P
AUL CALLED
India at seven in the morning the night after he arrived, and he sounded forlorn, and exhausted the moment he spoke. He said he had had a terrible night, and was moving to the Carlyle.

“Oh Paul, I'm sorry.” It had been predictable of course, there was just too much of Serena in the apartment. “You're going to be exhausted for your meeting.”

“It was awful,” he confessed to her, “worse than I thought. I guess I shouldn't have tried to stay here.” He sounded like he'd been crying.

“Maybe eventually you can make a few changes.” It was comforting talking to him on the phone, and she felt braver immediately. This was the voice she knew. It was still a little hard to put it together with the man, who was still so new to her, and whom she had seen so seldom. But the voice had been a constant in her life for some time now.

“I'm not sure what to do, other than sell the place intact.” But he wasn't ready to do that either, and she
knew it. “I'll meet you at the Carlyle tonight. In the Bemelmans Bar at seven. We can have a drink there before we go across the street to Daniel.”

“I'll be there. What are you doing about breakfast, by the way? You can't go to work on an empty stomach.” It was the kind of thing she worried about, having kids, and it made him smile. No one had worried about that for him for years. If ever. Not even Serena. He could have starved for all she cared. Serena never ate breakfast, and thought he didn't need to either.

“I'll have something at the office. They have a whole kitchen and two chefs. I'm sure they can dig up something, at least a cup of coffee. I'm going to go in early.” He would have gone anywhere, just to get out of the apartment. The closets had almost done him in the night before, and he had been crying since six o'clock that morning. “I'm not sure I can ever come back here,” he said in a choked voice.

“It'll get easier,” she reassured him. It had been difficult for him even on the
Sea Star
at first. Returning to the apartment he had shared with his wife was just too big a dose of reality too soon, and coming back to New York was probably emotional for him too. None of it was easy, and she knew it.

“Thanks for being there,” he said, and then he heard strange banging noises and a dog barking. “Where are you, by the way? It sounds like bedlam.”

“It is.” She smiled. “I'm making breakfast for the kids, and the dog is going crazy.” He liked the sound of it. It sounded very friendly.

“How's Sam?”

“Hungry.” She grinned.

“Go feed him. I'll call you later.”

She was out all afternoon, and she came back after she picked them all up at school. She had run into Gail, who told her Doug's girlfriend had spent the weekend with him with her kids. She had heard it from two women she ran into in the market. And India was surprised to realize it bothered her. He had a right to do what he wanted, but he hadn't wasted much time. They'd only been separated for two months. And she had no one. Except Paul. But that was different. And she didn't mention him to Gail. She never did. It had remained a well-guarded secret.

The sitter came at five o'clock, while India dressed, and she left for the city at six. And this time, the children complained about her leaving.

“Why are you going out again?” Sam whined at her, as she kissed him. “You went out last night.”

“I have friends in town. I'll see you in the morning.” She knew he was going to ask her who they were, but she beat a hasty retreat before he could do it. She wasn't going to tell him. It was none of their business. And she didn't want to worry them. She knew they were upset about Doug's girlfriend and her two children. They didn't need anyone else to worry about, even if Paul was no threat to them.

There was a lot of traffic on the way into town, and she arrived ten minutes late, in the black suit, and new shoes, with her hair in a French twist again, and her only pair of pearl earrings. This was a new experience for her, getting dressed up at night, and driving herself into the city for dinner. Paul had reiterated his offer of a driver but being picked up by a limousine and whisked
away like Cinderella would have really startled the kids, she laughed. They would think she was going out with a movie star, or a drug dealer. It was a lot simpler just driving herself into the city, and sparing herself their questions and comments.

“You look beautiful,” Paul said with a smile when he saw her, and she noticed that he looked tired. It had been a long day for him, especially after being away from work for so long. Everyone wanted a piece of him, and all of his attention, and he was still a little jet-lagged. “How was your day?” he asked, as she sat down. “Not as busy as mine, I hope. I'd forgotten how exhausting work is.” He smiled, and she ordered a glass of white wine. There was plenty of time for it to wear off before she had to drive back to Westport.

“I just did errands, and picked up the kids.” She told him what Gail had said about Doug, and he raised an eyebrow.

“He sure didn't waste any time.” But he was glad. It meant he wouldn't be bothering India, and Paul was pleased to hear it.

“How was your board meeting?” India asked with interest.

“Challenging. And I talked to my son. They're having another baby. That's a hopeful sign. It's sort of a symbol of faith in the future, I always think. Maybe at their age, they're not that philosophical about it.” But as India looked at him, he didn't look like a grandfather to her. He was such a handsome man, and he didn't look his age, although he claimed that night that he felt it. She assured him it was only jet lag. But he admitted that the night before had upset him.

“I think you did the right thing moving here,” she said encouragingly.

“It's a bit stupid, with an apartment a few blocks away. But I couldn't have taken another night of it. I had all the same dreams again … of her telling me I should have gone down with her.”

“She would never have said that, and you know it,” India said firmly. It was a liberty saying that to him, but she would have said it on the phone, and she was getting used to seeing him in person. It was nice finding him at the end of her day, dressing for dinner, and going out with him. She hadn't done that in a long time, and as she sipped her wine, he was smiling at her.

“You almost sounded like Serena for a minute.” But India was very much her own person. “She hated it when I felt sorry for myself, and she always gave me hell. So you're right with what you said, as usual. You're right a lot, India. About many things.” The only thing she hadn't been right about was her marriage. She should have put her foot down years before, and let him leave her. But without his support, Paul knew she never could have done it.

They left for Daniel when they finished their drinks, and the maitre d' settled them at a cozy corner table. He made a big fuss over Paul, and India could see he'd been there often. And the maitre d' looked obviously intrigued to see India with him.

“Everyone is wondering who you are.” Paul smiled. “You look like a model in that suit, India. And I like your hair that way, it suits you.” But he also missed her braid and the way she had looked when he had met her on the
Sea Star.
She had been so perfectly at ease on the
boat with him, and they'd had such a good time with Sam. He couldn't wait to have them back on the boat again. And he had decided that afternoon to bring the boat across the Atlantic to Antigua. He was going to suggest to her that they take the kids there over Easter. But first he helped her order dinner.