Danielle Steel - Dating Game

“How easy can it be to lose your husband and everything you care about? It's going to be awful for her when Wim goes away to college. What's she going to do, Dad?” There were tears in Meg's voice as she asked him. She was worried sick about her mother.

“I don't know. She'll have to figure that out, sweetheart. This happens to people. Things change. Lives go in different directions. People die, and get divorced, and fall out of love. It just happens. It could have happened to her, instead of me.”

“But it didn't,” Meg insisted. “She would never have left you. She could never have done that,” she said loyally. She still loved her father, but she was heartbroken for her mother. Meg no longer understood him. He sounded like a stranger. A selfish, childish, spoiled stranger. She had never before seen him as self-centered.

“I suspect you're right,” Peter admitted. “She's incredibly loyal and decent. I don't deserve that.”

“Maybe not, Dad,” she said, sounding disappointed in him. “How soon are you going to do this?” She was hoping he'd take some time to think about it, and with luck, change his mind.

“I think we're going to proceed in good order. There's no point dragging it out, or raising false hopes, and making it even more painful than it is. A quick, clean break will be a lot simpler.” For him, but not necessarily for Paris. And he didn't tell Meg that he had called an attorney the moment he got into the office, and told him to file the papers. He wanted to be divorced by Christmas. He had promised Rachel they'd be married by the end of the year, and it was what he wanted too. He also knew that Rachel wanted another baby, before the boys got much older.

“I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sad for both of you, and me, and Wim. This is so awful,” Meg said, and started to cry. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't help it. And a few minutes later, they hung up. She felt as though in a single night she had lost not only her family, but all her illusions. Her father had turned out to be someone she didn't even recognize, and she was terrified that her mother would sink into a deep depression. There was nothing to stop her. She had no job, no children at home in a short time, and now no husband. All she had was an empty house, and her friends in Greenwich. It wasn't enough to keep her going. Or to keep the demons of darkness from her. It was all Meg could think about all day, and she called that night to report to Wim about her conversation with their father.

“There's no way he's coming back,” she said somberly. “For whatever reason he flipped out, he's planning to stay there.” And after thinking about it, she added, “I think he's seeing another woman.” She had come to that conclusion when he dodged her question.

“Did he say that?” Wim sounded horrified. It hadn't even occurred to him. Their father was so proper and upstanding, it seemed totally unlike him. But so was divorcing their mother. Overnight, he had become a stranger to his wife and children.

“No. But I got that impression. We'll see what happens.” If he was seeing someone else, and she was important to him, she would surface sooner or later. It would certainly explain why he had walked out on their mother so abruptly.

“Do you think Mom knows?” Wim asked sympathetically. Paris had gone to sleep at eight o'clock, long before he and Meg were talking.

“I don't know. I don't want to upset her. This is bad enough without adding another woman to it. We're just going to have to do whatever we can to help her. Maybe I should come home next weekend.” But she had plans that would be hard to cancel. “Let's see how she is. I'll be home for your graduation anyway. What are you doing this summer?”

“I'm going to Europe with four of the guys from my class,” he said, sounding glum about it. He didn't want to give up the trip he'd been looking forward to all year, nor did he want to abandon their mother.

“She might be better by then. Don't change anything for now. I'll invite her out here for a visit. She doesn't sound like she wants to go anywhere right now.” Meg had called her that morning from work, and Paris sounded too depressed to even talk to her. Meg had suggested she call her doctor, but Paris didn't want to. This was not going to be easy, for any of them, except their father. “Call me if anything happens,” Meg told Wim. It was certainly an ugly end to his senior year, and a trauma none of them would forget or recover from quickly.

“I don't think she got out of bed today,” he confided to her.

“I'll call her tomorrow,” Meg said, as her doorbell rang. It was her boyfriend, and she promised to call Wim the next day. He had her cell phone number if anything untoward happened. But at this point, the roof had already fallen in. What more could happen?

Chapter 4

It was Thursday before Virginia and Natalie got through to Paris. They had been trying all week, and were having lunch together when they called her on Virginia's cell phone. And for the first time in days, Paris answered. She sounded hoarse and groggy, and she had been sleeping. Virginia had heard the news from her husband on Monday night when he came home from the office. Peter had told him discreetly that he and Paris had separated over the weekend and were divorcing. Peter wanted to get the word out as quickly as he could, so that within a reasonable amount of time, he could be seen openly with Rachel. But they weren't the secret he hoped they were. Virginia's husband, Jim, told her about Rachel that night over dinner. And she shared the information with Natalie over lunch, before they called Paris. Within days, Paris had become what she most feared, an object of concern and pity. Both of her friends were horrified to realize what had happened. It was a reminder to each of them that no one was exempt from lightning striking when you least expected. No one could ever know what would happen. And just when you thought you could coast forever and were safe, you discovered that you weren't.

“Hi, babe,” Virginia said, sounding sympathetic. All she wanted to do was put her arms around her and hold her. “How're you feeling?” she asked, and Paris could hear that she knew. She hadn't had the guts to call and tell her. She just couldn't. It was too awful. Instead, she had retreated into her bed, and sought refuge in sleep. She was only waking up when Wim came home from school, and he was cooking dinner. She had done nothing since Peter left the house on Saturday morning. She kept telling Wim she'd be fine soon, but he was beginning to doubt it.

“Jim told you?” Paris asked, as she rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Yes, he did,” but Virginia still didn't know if Paris knew about the other woman, and she wasn't going to ask her. She had been through enough heartache. “Can we come over? Nat and I are just sitting here, worrying about you.”

“I don't want to see anyone,” she said honestly, although she had finally showered on Monday, and again that morning. “I look awful.”

“We don't care how you look. How are you feeling?”

“Like my life ended last Friday night. Life as I know it anyway. I wish he had just killed me. It would have been so much simpler.”

“I'm glad he didn't. Have you told Meg yet?”

“The kids have been great. Poor Wim, he must feel like he's running a psych ward. I keep promising him I'll get up, and I mean to, but it's just too much trouble.”

“We're coming over,” Virginia said in a determined voice, frowning meaningfully at Natalie across the table, and shaking her head, trying to give her a clue as to how Paris was doing. She wasn't.

“Don't. I need some time to catch my breath before I see anyone.” She felt humiliated and broken. And even her best friends couldn't fix it. No one could. She had gotten a message on the answering machine from the lawyer Peter had retained for her on Tuesday. And when she called him back, she had thrown up after their brief conversation. It didn't bode well for the future. He told her that Peter wanted to file the papers soon, and get the show on the road quickly. And as he said it, she had been overwhelmed by a wave of panic. It was like free-falling out of a plane without a parachute. The only way she could explain the feeling was terror. “I'll call you when I feel better.”