Даниэла Стил - The Affair

Nadia went to get dressed and do their hair while Rose settled into the guest room with the view of the river below, and a few minutes later, Nadia came to ask her if she wanted to go to the park with them.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said as she put on ballet flats and jeans, and a few minutes later, they went for a long walk. They stopped for lunch on the terrace of a café on the Boulevard Saint-Germain on the way back, where Nadia picked at a salad, and Rose and the girls had sandwiches. They walked back to the apartment slowly after that. It had been a relief not to talk about Nicolas while they were out. His name didn’t come up again until just before dinnertime, when he called to talk to the girls, and Nadia handed them her cellphone. It was obvious that they were happy to hear from him, and he told them he was doing publicity for his latest book in the South of France.

“Translation: He’s in Saint-Tropez with her,” Nadia said to her mother as soon as the girls left the room. But she also knew that he had wanted to be with her, and she wouldn’t let him because of her mother’s visit. Now, the minute he wasn’t with one woman, he was with the other. Nadia was beginning to think he should get his own apartment, but she was afraid that if she suggested it, he would move in with Pascale. But maybe he would now anyway, with a baby on the way. Nadia felt as though she couldn’t stop the flow of what was happening to them. He had unleashed a tidal wave of reaction and consequences from his foolishness.

Her mother took them to a nearby pizza restaurant the girls loved for dinner. Normally, she would have invited Nadia and Nicolas to the Voltaire farther down the street where they lived. But Nadia didn’t feel up to running into anyone at the fashionable restaurant where designers, fashion photographers, socialites, decorators, and their clients hung out, and she usually knew someone at almost every table. And everyone knew Rose. It was more than Nadia wanted to deal with, so hiding at the pizza restaurant was more her style at the moment, and all she could cope with.

Rose told her granddaughters stories about funny things that had happened to the models at fashion shoots, and they both giggled at stories about when tops fell down, and skirts fell off, a lion cub escaped, and about how at a recent shoot of a bridal gown, they let a flock of doves loose and they pooped all over the photographer and the model in the wedding gown. The girls loved the stories their grandmother told them, and although they knew nothing about fashion, they had a sense that their grandmother was special.

“She always looks so nice,” Sylvie said sleepily, after they got home and Nadia kissed her good night and tucked her in. Rose went to pour herself a glass of wine. “I love her bracelets.” She often wore interesting bangles, and some unusual ethnic ones she had found in exotic places on her travels for the magazine.

“I like her hair,” Laure said softly. “It looks like snow.” They were fascinated by her hair, which was the whitest they had ever seen. “She’s pretty.” Nadia smiled at their comments, turned off the light, and went to find her mother. She was sitting on the couch, admiring the view of Paris in the moonlight, and thinking about her daughter, wishing none of this had happened to her.

“Your fan club had a good time with you today,” Nadia said gratefully as her mother handed her the glass of white wine she had poured for her. Nadia noticed in spite of herself that it was Chassagne-Montrachet, Nicolas’s favorite.

“They’re so well behaved and very sweet. Venetia’s boys exhaust me, but I have to admit, India always makes me laugh. She’s such a funny child. She told me I should paint my office red, when she came to visit me. That way people could see my hair better when I sit in front of a red wall, and I’d look prettier.” They both smiled, and Nadia took a sip of the wine and relaxed. It was nice having her mother there to talk to. She hadn’t been as militant about Nicolas as Nadia had expected her to be. She was being surprisingly tolerant of their respective confusion, and Nadia admitted herself that the situation was a mess.

“I love it when you get to spend time with them. I wish we lived in the same city.” Nadia missed seeing her mother and sisters regularly. Venetia came to Paris several times a year to buy fabrics or see the couture shows. Athena went to Italy more frequently than she came to Paris, although she did visit Paris about once a year. Olivia never came to Europe. When she had time off, she and her family went to their house in Maine, where they all went sailing on a small sailboat they loved. Her husband didn’t like coming to Europe, and Olivia never came alone. Nadia was too busy to go to New York very often, except to shop for her clients.

“I don’t blame you for living here. If I ever retire, I might spend a year or two in Paris,” Rose said dreamily. “I’m usually on such a tight schedule when I come.” At sixty-six, there wasn’t the vaguest sign of her retiring. She was still moving at full speed, on top of her game, and the heart and soul of Mode Magazine . She was feared and revered by everyone in the fashion industry. She could make or break a designer if she wanted to, and enjoyed helping new young talents just starting out, by what she said about them.

“I always wanted to have a marriage just like you and Daddy. You were so good together and so supportive of each other. And you looked like you had fun,” Nadia said wistfully. “I thought we were well on our way to that, and then all this happened. I’d like to think we can recover from it, but I’m not sure we can. I don’t know if I can ever forgive Nicolas. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Some marriages recover from worse things,” Rose said gently. “I don’t know if yours will or not. Time will tell. And you’re right, your father and I did have fun. I knew he was ‘the one’ the moment we met. We were in love until the end.” She smiled, thinking of her late husband. She thought that in Nadia’s life, a lot would depend on what Nicolas did now, and if he stayed with Pascale after she had the baby or made a graceful exit as fast as he said he would. “It’s not a good situation, but people sometimes forgive some pretty awful stuff. Or not. I’m sorry you have to go through it.” Nadia acknowledged what she said with a nod.

“Me too. Seeing you makes me feel human again. Just going out to dinner with you and the girls makes a difference, and feels normal. I’m so tired of talking to Nicolas about it. It’s our only subject of conversation now. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a desert island and can’t get away from it.”

“What are you doing this summer?” her mother asked her.

“I don’t know. Everything is up in the air. We always go to the château for July and August. He says I can go without him if I want to. I suppose he’ll be with her somewhere if he’s not with us. The girls will be upset if he doesn’t come. I can always leave for a while and let him be there with the girls. I don’t want to be there with him and pretend that nothing happened. It’s all so awkward.” Rose nodded. It was more than awkward. It was hideous.

Rose had a small house in Southampton, where she spent weekends in the summer. It was a busy time for her. She sometimes came to the château for a few days if she could get away.

“I wish my sisters would come,” Nadia said thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you ask them?” Rose suggested, and Nadia liked the idea.

“I think I might.” Nadia smiled at her. They talked until after midnight and stayed away from the hot topic. Nadia slept peacefully that night. It seemed odd at her age, but she felt safe just having her mother there.