Honor Thyself (33 page)

She had brought him a present too, and he smiled when he saw that it came from the same store. He opened it as cautiously as she had hers, and saw that it was an elegant gold watch. She had given him one years before that he still wore. Arlette had known it was from her, and had refrained from comment. It was the only jewelry he wore, and she knew it would be meaningful to him. Carole had had her gift to him engraved too. On the back it said “Joyeux Noël. Jet'aime. Carole.” He was as pleased with her gift as she had been with his.

The restaurant was close to the hotel and they walked back to the Ritz slowly, with the guards behind them. Carole was used to them by now and so was Matthieu. They stopped in front of the Ritz and kissed as a flash went off in their faces. They turned, and Carole whispered to him quickly, “Smile.” He did, and then they both laughed and the paparazzi got them again. “As long as they've got you, you might as well smile pretty for the camera,” she said, looking up at him, and he laughed again.

“I always look like an ax murderer when photographers get me by surprise.”

“Remember to smile next time,” Carole said as they walked into the lobby. They didn't care if they were in the papers. They had nothing to hide.

He walked her back to her room and kissed her again in the living room of her suite. Stevie had already gone to bed, after packing up the last of their things. Carole's computer was still on the desk, but she wasn't planning to work that night.

“I'm still addicted to you,” he said passionately, as he kissed her again. He was looking forward to the discoveries they were going to make when he came to California to stay with her. He remembered only too well how wonderful that had been before.

“Don't be,” Carole said softly, in response to his comment. She didn't want the craziness of what they'd shared in the past. She wanted something peaceful and warm, not the agonizing passion they had experienced before. But looking at him, she was reminded that this wasn't Sean. It was Matthieu. He was a powerful, passionate man, always had been, and still was, despite his age. Nothing about Matthieu was quiet or lukewarm. Sean hadn't been either, but he had been a different kind of man. Matthieu was a driving force, and a perfect match for her. Together their energy could light the world. It was what had frightened her at first, but she was growing used to it again.

They were both wearing their Christmas presents from each other, and they sat in the living room of the suite for a long time and talked. It was one of the things they did best, and the rest would come soon enough. Neither of them had dared to brave any greater physical involvement. She had been too recently injured, and the doctor had suggested she wait, which seemed wiser to both of them. He didn't want to do anything to put her at risk, and he was worried about the flight.

Matthieu was coming to take her to the airport in the morning. They were leaving at seven, and she had to check in by eight o'clock for a ten o'clock flight. The neurosurgeon who was traveling with them had promised to be at the Ritz at six-thirty, to check her before they left. He had made the arrangements with Stevie and told her that he was excited about the trip.

Matthieu left her room finally just after one o'clock. Carole looked peaceful and happy as she brushed her teeth and put her nightgown on. She was excited about his coming to California, and everything she was planning to do before he arrived. She had a lot to look forward to in the weeks to come. It was a whole new life.

Stevie woke her at six the next morning. Carole was already dressed and at breakfast when the young doctor arrived. He looked like a kid. She had said goodbye to her own neurologist the day before, and given her a Cartier watch as well, a practical one in white gold, with a second hand. The doctor had been thrilled.

Matthieu arrived promptly at seven. He was wearing a suit and tie as always, and commented that Carole looked like a young girl in jeans and a loose gray sweater. She wanted to be comfortable for the flight. And in case photographers caught her, she had put makeup on. She was wearing his bracelet, and the diamonds on it sparkled on her arm. Matthieu was proudly wearing his new watch, and announced the time to anyone who cared to listen, while Carole laughed. They both looked happy and relaxed.

“You guys are cute,” Stevie commented, as the bellman came to take their bags. As always, she had everything organized. She had left tips for room service and the maids, the concierges who had helped her, and two assistant managers at the front desk. This was what she did. Matthieu was impressed as she shepherded the doctor from the room, carried Carole's computer case and heavy handbag, managed her own hand luggage, dismissed the nurse, and spoke to the guards.

“She's very good,” he said to Carole as they took the elevator to the lobby.

“Yes, she is. She's been with me for fifteen years. She'll be back when I come next spring.”

“Her husband won't mind?” Carole had told him Stevie might be getting married.

“Apparently not. I'm part of the deal.” She grinned.

They went to the airport in two cars, Carole in Matthieu's, Stevie, the doctor, and the guards in the rented limousine. And the now familiar photographers took pictures of Carole as she got into Matthieu's car. She stopped for a minute to smile and wave. She looked every inch a movie star with her brilliant smile, long blond hair, and diamond earrings. No one would ever have imagined that she'd been injured or sick. And Matthieu could hardly see the fading scar on her cheek, with artful makeup.

They chatted easily on the way to the airport, and Carole couldn't help thinking of the last time he had gone to the airport with her, fifteen years before. It had been a devastating morning for both of them. She couldn't stop sobbing on the trip out. She believed then she'd never see him again. In spite of vague assurances she made, she knew she wasn't coming back, and so did he. This time she was all smiles when she got out of the car at the airport, went through security, and went to the first-class lounge with Matthieu, while Stevie checked their bags. Air France had arranged for him to go through security with her, because of who he was.

The doctor took her vital signs discreetly half an hour before the flight. They were fine. He was looking forward to the flight in first class.

Matthieu walked her to the gate when they announced the flight, and she stood talking to him until the last minute and then he took her in his arms.

“It's different this time,” he said, acknowledging what she had remembered that morning.

“Yes, it is.” They were both grateful for a second chance. “That was one of the worst days of my life,” Carole said softly, looking up at him.

“Mine too,” he said, and held her close.

“Take care of yourself when you get back. Don't push too hard. You don't have to do everything all at once,” he reminded her. She had started doing more and moving faster in the past few days. She was beginning to feel like her old self.

“The doctor says I'm fine,” she countered.

“Don't push your luck,” he chided her, as Stevie came to remind her that it was time to get on the plane. Carole nodded and looked up at Matthieu again. His eyes mirrored the same joy that she felt.

“Have fun with your children,” he told her.

“I'll call as soon as I arrive,” she promised. Stevie had given him the details of their flight.

They kissed, and this time there were no photographers to interrupt them. Carole could hardly tear herself away. Only days before she had been frightened to open her heart to him again, and now she could feel herself moving closer day by day. She was sad to leave Matthieu, but happy to be going back to L.A. as well. She could easily have never come home from this trip. They were all aware of it, as she pulled herself away at last, and walked slowly toward the plane. She stopped, turned, and looked back at him with a broad smile, which was the one he had always remembered. It was the movie star smile that made fans swoon all over the world. She stood looking at him for a long moment, mouthed the words
“jet'aime,”
and then with a wave, she turned and walked onto the plane. It had been a miraculous journey, and she was going home, with Matthieu in her heart. This time with hope, not heartbreak.

Chapter 20

T
he flight to L.A. was blissfully uneventful. The young neurosurgeon took her vital signs several times, but Carole had no problem whatsoever. She ate two meals, watched a movie, and then turned her seat into a bed, cuddled up under the blanket and comforter, and slept the rest of the way. Stevie woke her up before they landed, so she could do her makeup and brush her teeth and hair. There was a strong possibility that there would be press to meet the plane. The airline had offered her a wheelchair, but she had declined it. She wanted to walk off under her own steam. She much preferred the story of a miraculous recovery to the vision of her return as an invalid, which she wasn't. Despite the long flight, she felt stronger than she had in weeks. Part of it was the excitement of the fresh hope she was sharing with Matthieu, but much of it was simply her own sense of gratitude and peace. She had not only survived the tunnel bombing, but refused to be defeated.

She looked out her window in silence, seeing the buildings, the swimming pools, the familiar sights and landmarks of L.A. She saw the Hollywood sign, smiled, and glanced at Stevie. There was a time when she thought she would never see those things again. There were tears in her eyes. So much had happened in the last two months. It was dizzying to think about as the landing gear touched the runway and the plane taxied to a stop.

“Welcome home,” Stevie said with a broad grin, as Carole looked at her and nearly burst into tears of relief. The young doctor was ecstatic to be in L.A. His sister was picking him up and he was spending a week with her before going back to Paris.

Carole and her two companions were among the first to disembark. A VIP person from Air France was waiting for them to whisk them through customs. Carole had nothing to declare, except the bracelet from Matthieu. And she finally accepted a wheelchair to get her through the long hike to immigration. The walk was too long for her. Customs had already been warned that she was coming through. She had her declaration ready, they told her the amount she owed, and she wrote a check within minutes. And once she handed them the check, an officer checked their passports and waved them through.

“Welcome back, Miss Barber.” The customs officer smiled at her as she stepped out of the wheelchair then, in case there were photographers waiting for her when she came through the doors. She was glad she did, because there was a wall of them there, shouting and calling her name as their flashes went off in her face. There was literally a cheer as they spotted her and she waved, walked steadily past them, and looking radiant and strong.

“How do you feel?… Is your head okay?… What happened?… How does it feel to be back?” They shouted questions at her.

“Great! Just great!” She beamed as Stevie took her arm and helped her push her way through them. They waylaid her for a full fifteen minutes, taking photographs of her.

She looked tired when they got into the limousine waiting for them outside. And Stevie had hired a nurse to stay with her at the house. She didn't need medical care, but it seemed wiser for her not to be alone right at first. Carole had suggested letting her go as soon as the kids arrived, or at least when Matthieu came out. It was just comforting to have someone there at night, and Stevie was going home to her own man, life, and bed. She'd been gone for a long time and was happy to be back too. Particularly given Alan's proposal while she was gone. She wanted to celebrate that with him now.

Matthieu was the first to call Carole, literally as they came through the door. He had been worried about her all day and night. It was ten o'clock at night in Paris when she got home, and one o'clock in L.A.

“Was it all right?” he asked, sounding worried. “How do you feel?”

“Absolutely fine. There was no problem at all, even on takeoff and landing.” Her doctor had been somewhat concerned that the changes in pressurization might do damage or give her a severe headache, but they hadn't. “All the doctor did was eat and watch movies.”

“Good. I'm glad he was there anyway,” Matthieu said, relieved.

“So was I,” she admitted. She had been somewhat worried too.

“I already miss you,” he complained, but he sounded in good spirits, and so was she. They were going to see each other in no time at all, and their life together, whatever form it took, would start again. She had a lot to look forward to.

“Me too.”

“What are you going to do first?” He was excited for her. He knew how much it must mean to her to be back, after all she'd been through.

“I don't know. Just walk around and look, and thank God I'm here.” He was thankful too. He remembered how shocked he'd been when he saw her first, on the respirator at La Pitié Salpêtrière. She looked dead. And nearly was. Her recovery was like being born again. And now they had each other too. It was like a dream for both of them.

“My house looks beautiful,” she said, glancing around, still on the phone with him. “I'd forgotten how nice it is.”

“I can't wait to see it.”

They hung up after a few more minutes, and Stevie settled her in. The nurse arrived ten minutes later, and was a pleasant woman who was excited to meet Carole. Like everyone else who had read about it, she'd been horrified by her accident in France, and said it was miraculous she was alive.

Carole wandered into her bedroom then and looked around. She remembered it perfectly now, and had for a while. She looked out at the garden, and then walked into her office, and sat down at her desk. Stevie had already set her computer up for her. And the nurse went to make lunch. Stevie had asked the cleaning person to order groceries for them. As usual, she had thought of everything, down to the last detail. There was nothing Stevie didn't do.

Stevie sat down and had lunch with her in the kitchen, as they so often did. Carole was halfway through a turkey sandwich when she started to cry.