Bittersweet (43 page)

“I suspected he'd be upset about us,” India said quietly,
not disagreeing with a thing he'd said, “and I wondered how you'd handle it.”

“The answer to that, India, is Very badly.'Just like I handled all of it. I made a real mess of it.” He knew it every time he saw her scar now, and was reminded of how it had ended between them.

“Maybe you just weren't ready,” she said charitably. “It was pretty soon after …” It had only been six months after Serena died, which wasn't long, but he shook his head then.

“I wasn't, but I never will be.” And then he looked up at her with a sad smile, they had come through a lot, the two of them, and he saw that now. But in the end, they had lost the battle. Or at least he had. “I just hope you find that guy who comes through the hurricane, my friend …you deserve him …more than anyone else I know. I hope you find him.” And he meant it. All he wished her now was love and freedom from the pain he had caused her.

“So do I,” she said sadly. She couldn't imagine how or where or when she'd find someone, she somehow thought it would be a long time before she did, if ever. She still had a lot of things to work out of her system. Like Paul. But at least they could talk to each other now, and have a friendly evening.

“Just make sure you're ready for him when he comes,” Paul advised, “and not hiding under your bed with your eyes closed, or far away in a place like this, as far away from the world as you can get. That's no way to find the kind of person you want, India. You have to get out there.” But they both knew she didn't want to, any more than he did.

“Maybe he'll find me.”

“Don't count on it. You have to make a little effort, or at least wave him in. It's not easy getting through a hurricane, you know, you've got high winds and bad weather and a lot of dangerous conditions to contend with. You've got to stand out there and wave like hell, India, if you want him.” They exchanged a long smile, and silently wished each other well, whatever it was they each thought they wanted.

It was nearly midnight by then, and Paul finally got up, and they cleaned up the mess they'd made. They'd touched on a lot of important subjects to them that day, and had spent a lot of good time together.

“I'm glad Sam was okay,” Paul said as she put the box of Wheaties away and nodded. And then he chuckled. “And by the way, when you find that guy who's willing to come through the hurricane for you, you'd better hide your kids somewhere, or he may run right back out into the hurricane. A woman with four kids is pretty scary, no matter how terrific she is.” But she no longer believed what he was saying. Her children had scared him, but they wouldn't scare everyone, and she said as much as they cleaned up from their “dinner.”

“They're great kids, Paul, as kids go. And the right guy is going to want me with them. They're not a handicap to everyone, and they'll grow up eventually.” Paul had made her feel like damaged goods when he sent her away, as though she wasn't good enough for him. She didn't measure up to Serena, and she had too many children. But broken down, one by one, they were nice people. And so was she. And she was even beginning to suspect, remembering things he had said to her, that
there were things about her that Serena might never have measured up to. At least it was something to think of.

He walked her slowly back to her tent, and then stopped and looked at her. It had been nice spending the day together. And it had been a turning point for both of them, a kind of farewell to what they had once shared, and a welcome to their new friendship. They had brought some good things along with them, cast some bad things away, and discovered some new things about each other.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Get some sleep.” It had been a long day, and they were both tired. And then he looked at her with a shy smile, and said something that touched her deeply. “I'm glad you came here.”

“So am I,” she said, and then disappeared into her tent with a silent wave. She was glad their paths had crossed again. Maybe it was destiny. They had both come a long way since they met, and had come over arduous roads, and rough terrain. And she was finally beginning to see the sun coming up over the mountains. But she knew, after listening to him, that he still had a long journey ahead. And she hoped that, for his sake, one day he'd get there.

T
HE NEXT
two weeks flew by, almost too fast for India, although she missed her children. She flew a few transport missions with Paul, and she took several trips in the jeep with Randy and Ian. She photographed the children she saw endlessly, and interviewed everyone she could lay her hands on. She had bags and bags of film to show for it, and she knew she had a great story.

And she and Paul spent several long evenings chatting. Having made their peace with the past, they found they had some terrific times together. They laughed about silly things, saw the same humor in almost everything, and she found that, even without the relationship they'd once had, they still cared about each other immensely. He always seemed to be hovering somewhere nearby, protecting her, and watching over her, anxious to make things easy for her, and she was deeply concerned about him.

And they managed to spend their last night together. He talked about what he was going to do next. He was planning to leave Rwanda sometime in June, and there was another airlift he had planned in Kenya. And he still had vague plans about going back to Europe, or the States, in the summer, to spend some time on the
Sea Star.

“Call me if you come through town,” she said, and he asked if she was going to Cape Cod again. She was, in July, and for the first week in August. After that, she was leaving the house, and the kids, to Doug and Tanya.

“It sounds pretty civilized,” he said, as they shared a Coca-Cola.

“It is.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of August?” He knew she had nowhere else to go except back to Westport.

“Work, I hope. I asked Raoul to find something juicy for me.” She had loved her time in Rwanda. It had been far more wonderful than she'd expected, and the added bonus of finding Paul had made it a time she would never forget, and would always cherish. A final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place for her. She knew she still loved him, but she was able to let him go now.

He flew her to Kigali himself the next day, instead of having to take the egg-crate she had come in when she arrived. All she had to do now was catch a plane to Kampala, and then back to London. And after that, it was easy.

She knew the kids would be waiting for her, and she could hardly wait to see them. And as they waited for
her plane to arrive, Paul reminded her to give his love to Sam, and say hello to the others.

“I will if they're not in jail,” she teased him. It was easier now that his old fears were no longer between them, and she no longer had any expectations of him. Her dreams did not depend on him anymore. And though they had lost something of enormous value to her, instead in Africa they had found something very small and precious.

Her plane arrived finally, and she looked at him tenderly, and then she put her arms around him and hugged him. “Take care of yourself, Paul … be good to yourself. You deserve it.”

“So do you …and if I see a guy in a slicker, looking for a hurricane, I'll send him to you.”

“Don't worry about it,” she said with a smile, and meant it. But she knew that despite what no longer existed between them anymore, she was going to miss him.

“I'll call you sometime, if I ever get back to civilization.” There was no threat to him anymore, and no promise either.

“I'd like that.”

And then he took her in his arms and held her for a few final seconds. There was a lot he would have liked to say to her, but he didn't know how. More than anything, he wanted to thank her, and he wasn't even sure why. Maybe just for knowing who he was, and letting him be that person. They had somehow managed to find a kind of unconditional acceptance of each other.

There were tears in her eyes as she boarded the
plane, and he stood on the tarmac and watched her for a long time. And then he stood there and watched the plane, as it took off, circled the airfield once, and headed slowly back to where she had come from.

He got back in his own plane then, and flew back to Cyangugu, and he had an odd feeling of peace as he thought about her. She didn't frighten him anymore, she didn't make him run away, and his feelings for her now, whatever they were, didn't even make him feel guilty. He just loved her, as a friend, a mother, a sister. He knew he would miss the laughter he had shared with her, and the mischief in her eyes, and the raw outrage she expressed when she thought he had said something stupid. She was no longer hurt or angry at him or afraid of him. She wasn't desperate for him to love her anymore, nor did she expect anything from him. She wasn't desperate for anything. She was a bird sailing through her own skies, and thinking of her that way made him feel strangely happy. And it was only when he got back to camp, and everyone was saying how much they would miss her, that he felt the full force of her absence. It hit him harder than he'd expected.

He walked past her tent later that day, and felt a physical ache as he realized he wouldn't see her. Suddenly, the distractions she had provided seemed more important than he'd realized. And in spite of the independence he claimed, he felt lost without her. Just being there without her caused him pain.

And that night, as he slept in the pilots' tent, he had the first nightmare he'd had in months. He dreamed that India was on a plane, and as he watched from the
ground, it exploded in the air in a million pieces. And in his dream he looked everywhere for her, crying, sobbing, begging people to help him. But wherever he looked, whatever he did, no matter how much he cried, he couldn't find her.

W
HEN INDIA
walked into the house in Westport, it was immaculate, the sitter was there, and the children were eating dinner. And they all screamed with delight the minute they saw her. Sam frantically waved his cast at her, wanting to show it to her, and everyone had a thousand things to tell her. From their point of view, and even from hers, it had been an endless three weeks. But in many ways, both professional and personal, she had gotten a lot accomplished.

And when she saw how well organized everything was, and how meticulous she had been, India was actually grateful to Tanya. She called her in New York that night, and thanked her for everything she'd done. She knew Doug hadn't done more than take them to an occasional movie, and come home on the 6:51 to eat dinner. And the children even grudgingly admitted that they liked Tanya. It was still a little hard for India to accept that she had been replaced so easily in Doug's eyes. It made her what she had always feared she was, or
had been in the last year of their marriage, a generic wife who could be tossed out and traded for another. But she knew she didn't want to be married to Doug. And she was always shocked to realize, after seventeen years, how little she missed him.

But she was still startled when he told her on the phone that night that he and Tanya were getting married, when their divorce was final in December. There had been total silence for a minute, while India caught her breath, and then told him she hoped he'd be very happy. But when she hung up the phone, she was stunned to see that her hands were shaking.

“What's wrong, Mom?” Jessica asked as she cruised through the room, to make sure her mother was still there, and borrow a sweater.

“Nothing …I …Did you know that your father and Tanya were getting married?” She knew it was probably the wrong way to tell her, but she was so shocked herself that she didn't think about it.

“Yeah, sort of. Her kids told me.”

“Are you okay with that?” India asked her, looking worried, and Jessica laughed and shrugged.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” India said honestly, and neither did she. She had lost her options when she had refused to toe the line and do what he wanted. But maybe it was better that way. She had found something she never would have found if she stayed with him. Herself. It was a piece of her life she knew she couldn't live without now. Having found it, she couldn't give that up for anyone, and knew she never should have in the first place.

But her ego was still feeling a little bruised the next
afternoon when she saw Gail at school, when she went to pick the kids up. And she was surprised to hear that Gail knew about it.

“Does everyone know but me?” she said, still asking herself why it mattered to her. But it did. Hearing that Doug was getting married had depressed her. And she was hard on herself about it.

“Come on,” Gail chided her, “you were married to the guy for seventeen years. How could you not be bothered?” On top of it, Tanya was younger than she was, and jazzier, even if the children did say she was stupid. But that was obviously what Doug wanted. And India had seen firsthand evidence that Tanya was an impeccable housekeeper.

It was odd to think of it all now. In India's eyes, everyone had someone, and she didn't. Tanya and Doug had a life, and they were going to be married. India had no one. And Paul was going to spend the rest of his life roaming the world, and dreaming of Serena. Even Gail seemed happier with Jeff these days. They had rented a house for the summer in Ramatuelle, in the south of France, near Saint-Tropez, and for once she sounded excited about it. And in the fall, she said she was getting a face-lift. Suddenly, everyone else's life seemed better to her than hers, and more settled, and like Noah's Ark, they all had someone they wanted to be with. All India had was her work, and her children.

But it was more than some people had, she reminded herself finally. And more than she had had a year before, when she and Doug were battling over her career, and his definition of marriage. Remembering her misery over that, and how lonely she had been married to
him, brought it back into perspective. She was alone now, but not always lonely. In fact, most of the time, she wasn't.

The children got out of school that week, and she packed their things for Cape Cod. Everyone was excited about it, as usual, except Jessica, who didn't want to leave her new boyfriend. All she had at the Cape, she said mournfully, were “the boring Boardmans.”