Summer's End (31 page)

“What’s wrong, love?”

“You’re going to think I’m like her—the fake, the girl you were married to.”

He knelt on the floor at her side. “You’re not a fake, Deanna. Nothing about you has ever been fake. We just undertook something difficult and now we have to live up to the deal. It’s not easy, but it’s honest. It’s always been honest. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I want you to remember that always. If you ever want to come back, I will always be here for you. Always. Even when I’m ninety-three years old.” He tried to make her smile, but he failed. “Shall we make another deal now?”

“What?” She was pouting as she looked up at him. She hated Marc-Edouard, and hated herself more. She should have an abortion. Anything so she could be with Ben. Or maybe he would accept Marc’s child, if she told him the truth from the start. But she knew that she could never tell him. He would never understand.

“Come on, I want us to make another deal. I want us both to promise that we won’t talk about it being ‘just one more week.’ Let’s just live each day, love each day, enjoy every moment, and face that time when it comes. If we talk about only that, we’ll spoil the time that we have. Is it a deal?” He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the mouth as her hair fell softly down around her face from the loose knot she had wound it into on the top of her head. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“O.K.” He nodded solemnly, kissed her again, and left the room.

An hour later they left for Carmel, but it was difficult not to feel the pall. Things weren’t the same as they had been before. It was almost over, and whether they said it or not, they both knew. It was much too near. The summer was coming to a bittersweet end.

24

“Ready, my darling?” It was midnight, on Monday night. Labor Day. It was over. Time to go home. She looked around the living room for the last time, then silently took his hand. The lights were already out, the woman on the beach in the Wyeth hid her face in the moonlight. For the last time Deanna glanced at her as she left the house. It was chilly, but there was a bright moon and a sky filled with stars.

“I love you.” They were whispered words as she slid quietly into the car. He touched her face, then he kissed her.

“I love you too.” They were both smiling, suddenly it was not a time to be sad. They had shared a bond of joy and peace and love like none other, and it was something no one could ever take away. It was theirs. For a lifetime. “Are you as happy as I am, Deanna?” he asked. She nodded, smiling. “I don’t know why I feel so goddamn good, except that you make me happy, and you always will. No matter what.”

“You do the same for me.”
And you will.
She would cling to the memories in the long winter’s night of her life with Marc. She would think of him when she held the baby, thinking that it could have been his. She wished that it had been; suddenly she wished that more than anything in her life.

“What are you thinking?”

They had started the drive back to San Francisco. They planned to be back by two in the morning. The next day they’d sleep late, and then after breakfast he’d take her home. Marc was due in that afternoon. Tuesday, at three. That was all his telegram had said. Margaret had read it to her on the phone when she called to make sure that all was well at the house. Tuesday, at three.

“I asked you what you were thinking.”

“A minute ago I was thinking that I would have liked to have your son.” She smiled into the night.

“And my daughter? Wouldn’t you want her too?” They both smiled.

“How many children do you have in mind?”

“A nice even number. Maybe twelve.” This time she laughed and leaned against his shoulder as he drove. She remembered the first time he had said that, the morning after her show. Would there ever be another morning like that one?

“I would have settled for two.”

He hated the tenses she used. It told him what he didn’t want to know. Or remember. Not tonight.

“Since when did you decide that you’re not too old?”

“I still think I am, but… it’s easy to dream.”

“You’d look cute pregnant.” This time she said nothing. “Tired?”

“Just a little.”

She had been tired too often all week long. It was the strain, but still he didn’t like the dark circles under her eyes, or the pallor of her face when she got up in the morning. But he was no longer to worry after today. This was his last chance. Miraculously, on the morrow, he was to stop.

“Now what are you thinking?” She looked earnestly up at him.

“Of you.”

“That’s all?” She tried to tease, but he wouldn’t play.

“That’s all.”

“What about?”

“I was thinking how much I wanted our child.”

She felt a sob make a fist in her throat and she turned her head away. “Ben, don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” He pulled her closer, and they drove on.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Chantal glared at Marc from across the room. He closed his suitcase and swung it to the floor.

“It means exactly what it sounds like, Chantal. Come on, don’t play games. I’ve been here for almost three months this summer, now I have to do some work over there.”

“For how long?” She looked livid, and her eyes showed that she had been crying.

“I told you. I don’t know. Now be a good girl, and let’s go.”

“Non, tant pis.
I don’t give a damn if you miss your plane. You’re not going to leave me like that. What do you think I am? Stupid? You’re just going back to her. Poor, poor little wife, all heartbroken because she lost her daughter, and now little darling husband is going to console her.
Alors non, merde!
What about me?” She advanced on him menacingly, and a muscle tightened in his jaw.

“I told you. She’s sick.”

“With what?”

“A number of things. It doesn’t matter with what, Chantal. She just is.”

“So you can’t leave her now. Then when can you leave her?”

“Dammit, we’ve been over and over this for a week. Why do we have to do this when I have to catch a plane?”

“The hell with your plane. I won’t let you leave me.” Her voice had risen dangerously and her eyes were darting around the room. “You can’t go!
Non
, Marc-Edouard,
non!”
She was in tears again. He sighed as he sat down.

“Chantal,
chérie
, please. I told you, it won’t be for much longer. Please, darling. Try to understand. You’ve never been like this before. Why do you have to be so unreasonable now?”

“Because I’ve had it! I’ve had enough! Whatever happens, you stay married to her. Year after year after year after year.
Bien merde alors, j’en ai marre.
I’m fed up!”

“Must you be fed up right now?” He looked at his watch with despair. “I told you last night, if it looks as though it will be a long time, I’ll have you come over. All right?”

“For how long?”

“Oh, Chantal!” He had the look of irritation he had previously worn only with Pilar.
“Voyons.
Let’s see how it goes. You can stay in the States for a while, if you come over.”

“How long is a while?” But she was beginning to play now, and he saw it, with an exasperated gleam in his eye.

“As long as my foot. Will that do? Now, let’s go. I’ll call you almost every day. I’ll try to be back in a few weeks. And if not, you’ll come over. Satisfied?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?” He shouted the word, but she tilted her face up for a kiss, and he couldn’t resist.

“
Toi, alors!”
He kissed her, and they both laughed as they raced back into the bedroom, teasing and touching and hungry again.

“I’ll miss my plane, you know.”

“So what? And afterward let’s have dinner at Maxim’s.”

One would have easily thought that she was the pregnant one, but they most emphatically knew she was not. They had once thought she was pregnant, and it had produced such an appalling scare because of her diabetes that they had decided never to take any chances again. They couldn’t afford to. Her life was at stake. And she didn’t really mind not getting pregnant, she had never been particularly anxious to have a child. Not even Marc’s.

Ben stopped the car halfway down the street. “Here?”

She nodded, feeling as though the world were going to end. As though someone had announced the Apocalypse to them. They knew it was coming, they even knew when … but now what? Where to go? What to do? How would she live every day without him? How could she exist without the moments they shared in Carmel? How could she not wake up in that yellow bedroom, figuring out if it was his turn to make breakfast or hers? She wondered, as she sat there, if it could even be done. She looked at him long and hard and then held him tightly in her arms. She didn’t even care if anyone saw her. Let them. They would never see her hug him again. They would think it had been a mirage. She wondered for a moment if that was what she would think in years to come. Would it all seem like a dream?

Her words were a whisper in his ear. “Take good care. I love you….”

“I love you too.”

They clung to each other then, saying nothing. At last, he snapped open her door. “I don’t want you to go, Deanna. But if you stay any longer, I won’t be able to … to let you go.” She saw that his eyes were too bright, and she felt her own fill with tears. She looked down into her lap, and then quickly up at him. She had to see him, had to know he was still there. Instantly her arms were around him again.

“Ben, I love you.” She held tightly to him, then slowly peeled herself away and looked at him for a long, agonizing moment. “Can I tell you that these months have made my whole lifetime worthwhile?”

“You can.” He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “And can I tell you to get the hell out of my car?” She looked at him in surprise. Then she laughed.

“You cannot.”

“Well, I figure there’s not going to be an easy way to do this so we might as well have a good laugh.” And she did, and at the same time started to cry again.

“Jesus, I’m a mess.”

“Yes, you are.” He said it with an appreciative nod and a grin that gave way to a slightly sobered look in his eye. “And so am I. But frankly, my dear, I think we’ve got one hell of a lot of style.” And then, with a lopsided grin, he bent to kiss her once more, looked at her very hard, and said, “Go.”

She nodded, touched his face. With her hands clenched into tight fists she slid out of the car, looked at him for an interminable moment, turned, and walked away. As soon as she had turned her back, while she still fumbled in her bag for her keys, she heard him drive away. But she never turned, never looked, never saw, she simply buried him in her heart and walked back inside the house she would share for the rest of her life. With Marc.

25

“‘Good morning, darling. You slept well?” He looked down at her in bed.

“Did you miss your plane?” There was no mention of the past week, of the fact that she had literally run away from Paris.

“I did. Stupidly. I couldn’t get a cab, there was a traffic jam, ten thousand tiny incidents, and I had to wait six hours for the next flight. How do you feel?”

“Decent.”

“No more than that?”

She shrugged in answer. She felt like hell, and she wished she were dead. All she wanted was Ben. But not like this. Not with Marc-Edouard’s baby.

“I want you to see the doctor today,” Marc said. “Shall I have Dominique make an appointment for you, or do you want to do it yourself?”

“Either way.”

Why so docile? He didn’t like what he saw. She looked haggard and pale, nervous and unhappy, and yet indifferent to everything he said. “I want you to see him today,” he repeated.

“Fine. Can I go by myself, or will you have Dominique take me?” Her eyes spat fire into his.

“Never mind that. You’ll go today?”

“Count on it. And where are you going today, Athens or Rome?”

She walked past him into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. It was going to be a delightful eight months, Marc thought grimly. When the baby came a month later than Deanna expected, he was simply going to tell her it was overdue. That happened all the time, babies born three weeks late. He had thought about it all the way over on the plane.

He walked to the bathroom and spoke firmly at the closed door. “I’ll be at my office if you need me. And be sure you see the doctor. Today. Understood?”

“Yes. Perfectly.” She kept her voice steady so he wouldn’t know she was crying. She couldn’t go on like this. She couldn’t live with it. It was too much. She had to leave him, to find her way back to Ben, with or without this damned child. But she had an idea. When she heard the front door slam, she emerged and went directly to the phone. The nurse told her he was busy but when she had the woman explain who was on the phone, he took the call.