Dating Game (26 page)

“I don't want to worry about it, and I would. I would always wonder. Now that I know how you feel about it, I'm not sure I would ever trust you. How could I? Any more than you could trust me. You'd never know what I was doing. Except with me, you would know. That's the difference.”

“I don't expect that of you. Those are the ground rules.”

“What? Every man for himself, and screw whoever you want to? How pathetic. And how sad actually. I want more than that. I want love and integrity between two people.”

“I've never lied to you. And I wouldn't.”

“No,” she said sadly, “you just wouldn't tell me. Would you?” He didn't answer, and she stood and looked at him for a long moment. “If you ever feel differently about this, call me.” She wanted to say, if you ever grow up and decide to stop playing. “This has been wonderful. But it wouldn't be if I knew you were cheating on me. And to me, that's what it would be. I'm a very old-fashioned person.”

“You just want to be married, and control me,” he said cynically. “And if you're not married, you want to pretend you are. Well, you're not. You might as well enjoy it. And you're not going to control me.” It was the ultimate crime to him, a capital offense.

“I was enjoying it… for a minute… you spoiled it.”

“You're wasting your time,” he said, looking annoyed, as he got up and stood naked before her. “People don't play by those rules anymore. They went out with the Dark Ages.”

“Maybe so,” she said quietly, “but if so, I'm going out with them. Thanks for everything,” she said, and then walked out and closed the door. She stood in the hall for a minute, and then rang for the elevator. Part of her hoped that he would open the door and beg her to come back. And the rest of her knew that would never happen. She had learned a painful lesson. And whatever the ground rules were in Chandler Freeman's version of modern dating, Paris knew they weren't for her, and neither was he. Bixby had been right.

Chapter 20

It was the third week in March
when she stopped seeing Chandler, and a full two weeks later before Bix questioned her about it. He had the feeling somehow that he was no longer calling. She had been quiet for a few days, and then seemed to be keeping unusually busy. He finally asked her about it on an evening they were working late, planning a wedding.

“Have I missed something? Or is Chandler no longer calling?”

She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “That would be correct. He isn't.”

“Did you two have a falling out? Or did you get tired of caviar and Ferraris?” He had a way with words, and she smiled at him. She had been upset for the first week, and she was beginning to feel better. But as well as hurt, she felt extremely foolish. She should have known better, but she hadn't. And he had never called her. He had vanished in a puff of smoke. She had learned something, but she hadn't enjoyed it. And she hated to admit it, but she missed him. He had been wonderful to her, and if nothing else, the sex had been terrific. For the first time in a year, she had felt like a woman, instead of a reject. In that sense, he had been good for her, but he had chipped away at a piece of her. Worse yet, she had given it to him.

“It didn't work out. I made a mistake.” She hesitated for a moment, and then she told Bix about it.

“The little shit. How sleazy.”

“Was it?” she asked Bix honestly. He was eight years younger than she, but he was far more experienced, and she trusted his judgment. She felt like she was in a time warp and had come from another world. And in some ways, she had.

“Yes, it was sleazy,” Bix confirmed to her. “And not very nice. That's a lot of bullshit. But there are plenty of people out there who behave like him. Men and women. It's not exclusive to either sex. They're just not very nice people. And they don't play by very nice rules. You shouldn't have to ask if a relationship is exclusive. Decent people don't want to sleep with several people at the same time. I didn't. Steven didn't. But some of the people I dated were just like Chandler. They're still out there getting laid. So what? The sad thing is they're not getting loved, and most of them aren't capable of loving anyone, not even themselves.”

“I always feel like everyone else has the instruction manual, and I don't. It made sense to him, and he was very convincing. The only problem was I wasn't convinced. I would hate myself if I lived like that. The one thing it taught me is that I don't ever want to sleep with someone again who doesn't love me. I thought he did. Or I thought he was falling in love with me, and I was falling in love with him. I don't think it was love. I think it was lust. And look what I got.”

“You got a hell of a nice handbag out of it,” he reminded her, and she laughed.

“Yeah, I did. That's a hell of a trade. My integrity for a purse.”

“You didn't sacrifice your integrity. You didn't know what was going on.”

“I thought I did. I assumed, that was the mistake.”

“Well, you won't do it again. And it broke the ice. You lost your virginity. Now you can go out there and find a nice guy.” Bix smiled at her. He admired her honesty, and was sorry Chandler had been such a horse's ass, but he wasn't surprised.

“How many frogs am I going to have to kiss first?” she asked, looking worried. She seriously questioned her own judgment.

“A few. We all did. If you get warts on your lips, you can always get them taken off.”

“I'm not sure I have the courage to do a lot of this. It really hurts,” she said honestly.

“Yes, it does, and it's depressing as hell. Dating is the shits.”

“Thank you, Peter,” she said, sounding bitter for the first time. “I can't believe he condemned me to this.” Bix nodded. That was the way it worked. One person walked off with someone else, and the other guy got tossed into the pit, and had to survive the snakes. It wasn't much fun. “I should hate him for doing this to me, but I'm not sure I do yet, or ever will. I just hope I don't miss him for the rest of my life. I still do every goddamned day,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “And I can't believe that at my age, I have to go out there like some dumb kid and date. How disgusting is that? And pathetic.”

“It's not pathetic. It's just the way it is. And even if a relationship works, sooner or later, somebody dies, and the other one is left alone, and has to start again. It's rotten, but that's life.”

“Like Steven,” she said solemnly, thinking of Bix's partner whose lover had died nine years before. “But he got lucky.” She smiled at her friend. She felt as though they had been friends for years, instead of months. “He found you.”

“Nothing's perfect,” he said cryptically, and she looked at him, wondering if they had had a fight too.

“Is something wrong?” She wanted to be there for him too, as he was for her. He had been a good friend since they'd met.

“Could be, someday. Not yet.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means no one comes out unscathed. Steven's partner died of AIDS. And he's HIV positive. It may not hit him for years, or ever turn into full-blown AIDS. But it could at some point. I knew it going in. I figured however long we had would be worth it in the end. And it has been. I don't regret a minute I've spent with him. I just want him to live forever.” There were tears in his eyes, and hers, when she came to give him a hug. They held each other for a long moment, and he smiled at her through tears. “I love him so damn much, he is such a wonderful man.”

“So are you,” she said with a lump in her throat. Life was definitely not fair.

“You know, if I were ever attracted to women, which I'm not, thank God, men are complicated enough thanks a lot… you would be my first choice.”

“Should I consider that a proposal?” she teased, as she smiled through her tears.

“Absolutely… but not exclusively … sorry, I'd still have to sleep with boys … and I wouldn't tell you about it… but you could definitely assume we're not exclusive. Would that do?”

“Where do I sign up?”

They both laughed, and Bix shook his head. He liked talking to her. She felt almost like a sister to him. “I told you Chandler was no good.”

“I knew you'd say that eventually. But he talked such a good game. He told me he hadn't felt this way in fourteen years. What was that all about?”

“Snowing you. Guys like that say anything that works. When you meet the real thing, you'll know it. He wasn't.”

“Apparently.”

They wrapped up for the night, and felt closer to each other for the admissions they'd made, she about her mistake in getting involved with Chandler, and he about Steven having HIV. It had lightened some of the burden for him, as well as for her. And when Paris got home, she called Meg. And much to her mother's chagrin, Meg was in tears.

“What happened? Did you and Anthony have a fight?”

“I guess you could call it that. I found out that he's seeing some other girl. She's not even a girl. She's a woman. She's some big producer, and he's been sleeping with her for weeks.” His ambition had gotten him in the end. Another one with no integrity. But in his case, Paris wasn't surprised, nor was Meg. She had known who and what he was. She just hoped he would hang around for a while. He had lasted about as long as Chandler—six weeks.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. Chandler is out of the picture too.” And then she had an idea. “Do you want to come home this weekend?” Her furniture had arrived the month before, and it felt like home to her now. The house was looking great.

“What happened with Chandler?” Meg asked as she blew her nose.

“Same idea. I didn't ask if we were exclusive. I didn't know I was supposed to.”

“That happened to me in college,” Meg said wisely. “You always have to ask.”

“How come no one ever told me?”

“You didn't need to know. Now you do. Next time, ask. And if they say no, hit the door. In fact, make it a deal breaker going in.”

“Will you negotiate my next contract for me?” Paris teased her.

“Sure.” And then Meg sighed. “Doesn't this just suck? I wonder if I'm ever going to meet anyone decent. Probably not down here.” She sounded discouraged, even at twenty-four. That wasn't good news to Paris. She was turning forty-seven in May.

“They don't seem to be much better here.”

“Or anywhere else. My friends in New York meet the same guys. They're all players or liars, or commitment phobics. And when you meet a really nice guy, he tells you he's gay. I give up.”

“Not at your age. The right one will come along, for you, if not for me. I'm not sure I care. I'm too old.”

“Don't be stupid, Mom. You're still young. And you look great. Maybe I will come home this weekend. I'm depressed.”

“Me too. We can sit in bed and eat ice cream together, and watch TV.”

“I can't wait.”

Paris picked her up at the airport on Friday night, and she didn't have to work all weekend. They did exactly what they said they were going to do. They sat in bed and hugged each other, and watched old movies on TV. Neither of them got dressed or combed their hair, or put on makeup, and they loved it, and Wim came over for lunch on Sunday, and looked startled when he saw them both. Fortunately, he had come alone.

“Are you two sick?” he asked, surprised. “You look like shit,” he told his sister.

“I know,” she said, grinning at him. She had had a great weekend hanging out with their mother.

“We had a mental health weekend,” Paris explained.

“What's that?”

“We watched old movies and cried and stayed in bed, and bashed boys. My boyfriend cheated on me.” Meg gave him the details.

“That's a bummer,” he said sympathetically.

“What about you?” Meg asked, as Paris handed each of them a cup of soup, and sat down on the couch. She loved being with them. “Are you going out with any cute girls?”

“Dozens of them,” he said proudly. “We had a contest in the dorm, to see how many of them we could each get. I had twelve in two weeks,” he said, looking innocent, and his sister looked like she was going to throw something at him.

“You are a pig. That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard. Christ, with all the shit guys loose in the world, we don't need you to turn into one too. Get real.”

“What do you expect me to do? Get married freshman year? I'm a kid.” He was all innocence and good humor.

“Then be a decent one, for God's sake,” Meg scolded him, as Paris approved. “Be a nice guy, who treats women with kindness and respect. The world needs more nice guys like you.”

“I don't want to be a nice guy yet. I want to have some fun.”

“Not at someone else's expense, I hope, Wim,” Paris chided him. “People have a responsibility to each other, to treat each other well.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes you just have to be a little funky. You can't be responsible all the time.”

“Yes, you can,” his sister insisted. “Start now. You're nearly nineteen years old.” His birthday was two days after his mother's in May. “It's never too early to be a decent man. I'm counting on you, Wim.”

“Do I have to?” he asked, as he finished his soup. His mother and sister both seemed to be in a weird mood.

“Yes, you do,” Paris said. “Because if you aren't, you're going to hurt someone one day.” And in spite of herself, she was thinking of their father as she said it. It went over Wim's head, but Meg understood.

Chapter 21

Paris didn't even think
about dating after she broke up with Chandler. As May rolled around, they had a thousand details to take care of for the weddings they were doing in June. There were seven. And Meg flew up for the night to celebrate her birthday with her, and then flew back on a six A.M. plane. It was a sweet thing to do. Bix had given her a cake in the office, and a lovely turquoise cashmere stole. He said it would look fabulous on a black dress. And two days later she drove over to Berkeley to celebrate Wim's birthday with him. It was a busy month.

But the anniversary of the day Peter had left her was a hard one for her. She woke up with a bleak feeling, and remembered instantly what date it was. She was quiet and solemn all day. Bix asked her about it finally, and she told him what it was. And when she got home from work, she went to bed and cried. A lot of good things had happened to her in the last year, but if anyone had asked, or given her a magic wand, all she would have wanted, in an instant, was to have Peter back. No questions asked. Her life was forever changed, and not always for the best. But some nice things had happened too. The move to San Francisco, the house she was living in, and the job that had been her salvation, thanks to Bix, his friendship and Steven's. There were a lot of things she was grateful for. But she still missed Peter terribly, and was beginning to suspect she always would. It was just the way it was. She no longer expected anyone to fill that void, and didn't imagine that they could. She was relieved when she fell asleep finally, and the hideous day was over at last.