Rushing Waters (24 page)

“I don't think so. I hope not.” But it would be strange. It would be her first trip to London staying at a hotel, and not at her home. They had had an offer on the house the week before, but George's attorney had communicated that he didn't think it was enough, and he wanted to hold out for a better offer. Ellen was in no hurry to sell, so she didn't care if they waited, and she had agreed.

“How long will you be gone?” Bob asked her.

“About a week.” She smiled at him.

“Let's have dinner when you get back, now that I've finished the book. I'll be back from L.A. by then too. I'm only going out for a few days, since the kids are coming here for Christmas in a few weeks.”

“I'd love that.” They exchanged a warm look as she said it.

“And what about us?” Jim asked Grace in a moment alone after dinner. “Are we going to Miami?” He was, but Grace hadn't decided yet, and was still on the fence about it.

“Are you sure you wouldn't mind separate rooms?” she asked cautiously. “I'd be happy to pay for mine,” she offered, and he smiled at her.

“I invited you. And I don't mind separate rooms if that would make you more comfortable.” He had already agreed to it before, and she had told him that she hadn't traveled with a man for a long time, and didn't want to feel pressured into a potentially awkward situation. Jim understood her concerns.

“Then I'll come,” she said with a shy glance at him, and he beamed at her, and held her hand for a minute, and then they joined the others again. They all had travel plans in the coming days, and Ellen said she wanted to have them all to dinner when they returned. The two men hadn't seen her apartment yet and said they were looking forward to it. And they'd have a lot to talk about when they returned. Bob's movie, Ellen's trip to London, and Jim and Grace's trip to Art Basel. They were all embarking on adventures and would have much to share. And then they went back to talking about the benefit, and hoped to share working on that too.

When Ellen got to London, she took a cab from Heathrow to the hotel near her office, where Phillippa had made a reservation for her again. She had stayed there on her last two nights in London, and now it would be her home away from home. It seemed comfortable and the room looked pleasant enough when she dropped off her bag, and then she walked to her office in Knightsbridge, near Sloane Street. It felt very strange to be there and not go home, but she got busy with the projects waiting for her, and she had meetings with clients for the next several days, and an installation to oversee at the end of the week. And as always, Phillippa was a big help.

Ellen met with her attorney too, and she signed some papers they needed. George was offering her a settlement, which she had told her attorney she didn't want. She made a decent living and could support herself. She didn't feel right taking money from him. The marriage hadn't worked out, there was no amount he could pay her for the disappointment, or the betrayal, for cheating on her and not giving her a chance to do things differently or make it work better for him. How did you pay for that? What price could you put on it? She said as much to her attorney, and he relayed it to George's lawyer. And she was surprised when George called her that night. He called from a blocked number, but she recognized his voice immediately, and she assumed the blocked number was Annabelle's.

“Why won't you at least let me give you some money? No one is as rich as all that, unless you've been holding out on me.” She hadn't been the one keeping secrets.

“Because you can't make up for what you did with money, George. Why should I let you buy off your conscience at my expense? There's no price on my heart.” He was silent for a minute after she said it. She wasn't letting him off the hook, and felt better about it.

“I'm sorry, Ellen. I know it was wrong.”

“I'm sorry I let the IVF go on for so long. You should have said something.”

“I wanted to, but I knew how much it meant to you.”

“So you cheated on me instead.” It was hard to justify that.

“Not for the first few years,” he said defensively.

“That's big of you. And you made a fool of me with our friends.” She never wanted to see any of them again, and there was no chance of it now anyway, with Annabelle firmly ensconced at his side. She had lost an entire world, and a life, not just him.

“Will you be all right?” he asked her, sounding worried about her for the first time.

“Do I have a choice?” He knew that she had to face her inability to have a child as well as losing him—it was a doubly hard hit that way—but there would never have been a good time, and he wanted to have a life too. “Yes, I'll be all right,” she said with a sigh.

“I miss you,” he said, which seemed cruel.

“I miss you too,” she said sadly. “You should have thought of that before.”

“It's different with Annabelle. She's not as bright as you are. I hope we see each other again,” he said mournfully. “I miss talking to you.”

“Why? You said yourself there's nothing left. It's dead.” And he had killed it for her with everything he'd said to her at the end.

“We could be friends,” he said hopefully.

“No, we can't. We're not friends.” What he had done wasn't friendly or respectful or loving. “We were married, and you cheated on me, for a long time. I loved you, but I'm not your friend.” It was the most honest she had ever been with him. She had nothing to lose now. And she had cut him to the quick with what she said.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he wanted to know.

“That's none of your business. But no, I'm not.”

“Do you think you will?”

“No, I'm going to become a Carmelite nun.” There was silence for an instant, she heard him gasp, and then he laughed.

“You always made me laugh.”

“Apparently not enough,” she said tartly.

“It got so intense with the baby issue. It took all the joy out of everything we did.” She couldn't disagree with him. It had been miserable failing again and again.

“I thought it would be worth it in the end, if we succeeded. I was wrong. It was too high a price to pay, and worse because we didn't win. At least you can have children now.” She felt bitter when she thought about it. She never would, since the problem was hers.

“I'm fine as I am. It was never the heartbreak for me it was for you. Maybe you should adopt one day.” His not wanting to adopt had been all about his lineage and bloodlines, and she had followed him on that. She didn't want to discuss it with him. It was no longer relevant between them, and it was still painful for her.

“Well, let me know how you are from time to time,” he said. She didn't answer, and she had no intention of doing so. It was strange to stop speaking to someone you had loved and been married to for ten years. But the whole concept of divorce seemed strange to her, of just canceling someone out of your life. And since he had done it, she preferred to make a clean break, and wanted to. Why should she satisfy his curiosity, or have him justify what he did? There was nothing left to say.

“Thank you for the settlement offer,” she said politely. She wanted to get off the phone—they had talked long enough. And she wasn't going to indulge his maudlin need to cry over what had happened, or tell her how much he missed her, or how she'd made him laugh. He had to live with what he'd done now, without her help or sympathy. She didn't feel sorry for him. She didn't need to. He felt sorry for himself, which seemed pathetic to her.

“I love you, Ellen,” he whispered into the phone as they were about to hang up. “I always will.” She thought it was disgusting and self-serving of him to say that to her, and she felt a door slam in her heart when he did. She had lost all respect for him in the end. It would make it easier to be free of him.

“Goodbye, George,” she said coldly, and hung up. And she wanted to scream when she did. Why tell her he loved her now, when he was divorcing her and marrying someone else? What good would that do any of them? None at all. She tried to put him out of her head and went to bed early that night, and woke up surprisingly refreshed the next morning. She wondered if his appalling performance on the phone the night before would cure her of him forever. She hoped so. She suddenly felt very little for him now when she thought about him, except revulsion. And her lawyer called her again later that morning to tell her that George had withdrawn his settlement offer and was giving her the entire house instead, and relinquishing his share. She thought about it for a minute, and nodded.

“Thank you, I'll take it,” she told the attorney. For some reason, having the house seemed just. It had been her house as much as his, and if he wanted to give it to her now, so be it. She would sell it for a decent price, and buy another house with the money one day, but not yet. She still didn't know for sure where she wanted to live long term. Maybe New York, or Europe, or somewhere else. She could do whatever she wanted to. She answered to no one now, except herself. She wondered if he had done her a favor in the end.

She finished all her business in London in five days. She had dinner with Phillippa the night before she left and took her to Harry's Bar for a fancy evening and good meal. They had covered all the business that day at work, and could enjoy each other's company before she left. And she told her about George giving her the house.

“That was generous of him.” Phillippa was surprised. But it didn't change what she thought of him as a human being.

“Not when you consider what he did,” Ellen answered coldly, and Phillippa nodded in agreement.

Ellen didn't have time to call Charles this time, but hoped he and Gina were doing well. She was planning to call him the next time she was in town, in a month or two, and maybe have lunch with him. She had a warm spot in her heart for him after what they'd been through together in the hurricane, and she wished him well.

The flight back to New York was uneventful, and she called her mother the night she got in. She knew that they were back from Miami, and Grace said it had been fabulous and fascinating and the art had been amazing.

“Did you have a good time, Mom?” Ellen questioned her pointedly, curious about how the separate rooms had worked out.

“Yes, I did,” Grace said emphatically, then seemed flustered for a minute.

“Should I be shocked or happy for you?” Ellen asked her, and her mother giggled guiltily.

“You shouldn't ask questions like that. We had separate rooms—that's all you need to know.” But she sounded like a happy woman, and whatever had happened in Miami had obviously gone well, and Ellen was pleased for her. She deserved to have a man in her life who loved her and treated her well. No one was too old for that.

“George gave me his share of the house, by the way.”

“Good heavens, that's quite a gift.” She knew what they had paid for it.

“I turned down his settlement offer, and he sounds like he's feeling guilty, or sentimental or something. I'm sad to say I don't feel that way. But I accepted it.”

“Try not to get bitter about it. It will only hurt you in the end. It happened, you have to put it behind you now. If you dwell on it, it will poison you more than him. Let him live with it now. You're free of him, and it might prove to be a blessing in the end, hard as it is to believe now.”

“It isn't.” The only thing she knew she would regret forever was not having children. Not having George in her life was a different story, given what he had done to her. “I'll see you this weekend, Mom, if you're not busy. I have to organize that dinner I promised to do.”

“I'm seeing a client this week who has a proposition to make me,” Grace said mysteriously.

“Another one?” Ellen teased, referring to her recent romantic adventure in Miami.

“Stop that. I'm your mother,” Grace laughed again.

“I'm not the one who went to Miami with her boyfriend,” Ellen reminded her.

“God, what a thought. A boyfriend at my age. We'll have to figure out something else to call him. That's so undignified.”

“Just enjoy it, by whatever name,” Ellen said, and was smiling when she hung up. She was delighted for her mother, and things had gone well in London. She couldn't ask for more than that. Not now anyway.

Ellen got to work with Alice in the morning, organizing her dinner party. She wanted to find a small caterer who could cook the dinner for them, so she didn't have to spend the whole night in the kitchen. And Alice found one that someone she knew recommended. She got a date from her mother, who cleared it with Jim. And all she had to do now was ask Bob when he was available, and he called her that night when he got back from L.A. He said the movie preparations were going well, and he'd had dinner with his children. And then she asked him about the dinner party date. And the same one worked for him as for Jim and Grace.

“Perfect. It's going to be my first dinner party in the new apartment.”

“And I want a date from you too. When can we have dinner?” he asked her.

“My dance card happens to be amazingly free at the moment,” she said, laughing. She had no social life in New York yet, and wondered how long it would take to have one. She hadn't had time to get out and meet people. She'd been too busy moving and organizing her New York office with Alice.

“How about Saturday?” he suggested. It was still a few days away, and they both had work to catch up on since they'd been traveling.

“That's perfect. What do I wear?” She was used to asking that question of a husband, not a date, and felt awkward inquiring, but it was better to know than to look ridiculous when he showed up at her door, if she was wearing the wrong thing.

“Whatever you like. I was thinking of a little Thai restaurant, if you like that kind of food.”

“I love it.” He sounded pleased that she did too. “See you Saturday.”

The days flew by until she saw him, and she was wearing gray slacks and a matching sweater when he picked her up. She showed him around the apartment, and he looked impressed. They had just hung the curtains that morning, and they were exactly what she had wanted. She and Alice were both thrilled with them. They gave the living room a warm cozy feeling, but were lush and full and matched the couch perfectly. The living room looked very pretty, and he liked the dining room. She showed him her offices behind the kitchen, and he glanced into her bedroom and guest room. It already looked as though she'd been there for months, not weeks. And she had flowers all over the apartment.

“Would you help me with my place when it's finished?” he asked her when they left for dinner, and she was flattered by the request. “I mean professionally, not as a favor.” He liked the atmosphere she had created, and the colors she used, and it wasn't overly feminine, which he liked too. She had created an environment anyone would be at ease in. It made you want to spend time there, alone or with friends.

“I'd love to,” she said as they got in a cab and headed for the West Side.

“I still miss Tribeca,” he admitted to her. “There are so many good restaurants down there. But a lot of them are still closed. I haven't been downtown in a while, but I hear it's still in pretty bad shape. I'm glad I bought the new apartment. I wish your mother would too. I hate to think of her going back there.” He looked worried when he said it.

“So do I,” Ellen said. “I don't think we can stop her, although she said the work on her apartment is going at a snail's pace. She can't keep a crew there for more than a few days at a time—they keep getting pulled away to other jobs. There's a ton of reconstruction downtown.”

They got to the restaurant a few minutes later, and the food was as good as he had said it would be. And they didn't stop talking all evening, about his movie, his latest book, which he told her about in detail, and his children. He listened to her talk about her clients in Europe and the jobs she was doing, and he asked her if she'd heard from George while she was in London, and she told him about the house. He told her she deserved to have it. And they talked briefly about Jim and Ellen's mother. They both thought whatever was happening was wonderful. He said that Jim couldn't stop talking about what a good time he had had in Miami with her.