Danielle Steel - Changes

“See you tomorrow, Raquel. And I'll be in and out of the house here if you need me.”

“We won't.”

“Thanks.” It was always so comforting to know that the girls were in good hands, and as she hung up she smiled to herself, trying to imagine that exchange with Peter's housekeeper, Mrs. Hahn. It was beyond even Mel's imagination, and she laughed as she told him.

“You like your housekeeper a lot, don't you?” he asked.

Mel nodded. “I'm damn grateful to her for all she's done. She's an ornery old bitch at times, but she loves those kids, and she even loves me.”

“That's not hard to do.” He kissed Mel full on the mouth and sat back to look at her. She handled her children differently than he did, spoke to her help in a way he never would, and her life seemed to run remarkably smoothly. For a minute, he asked himself if he would only disrupt it, and she saw the look in his eyes as she got up and stretched. They had had a wonderful morning, and it was like an extra gift, since they hadn't expected to be together, which made them appreciate the time even more.

“What were you thinking then, Peter?” She was always curious about his thoughts, and always intrigued by what he told her.

“I was thinking how well organized your life is, and how long it's all been running on the same track. I was wondering if I'm more of a disruption than an asset.”

“What do you think?” She sprawled on the chaise longue in her room, naked, and he found himself longing for her again. It was amazing how constantly his body hungered for her.

“I think I can't think straight when I see you without your clothes on.”

“Neither can I.” She grinned and beckoned to him with one finger, as he approached and lay down on the chaise beside her, and a moment later he rolled slowly over her, pulling her long thin figure on top of his body.

“I' m crazy about you, Mel.”

She could hardly breathe she wanted him again so badly. “M e too …” And then they made love again, and forgot their troubles and guilts and responsibilities, and even their children.

It was one thirty before they had showered and gotten dressed and Melanie looked like a contented cat as they strolled out of the house into the hot sunshine. “We sure are lazy.”

“Why not? We both work so damned hard, I can't remember ever having a weekend like this.” He smiled down at her and she laughed.

“Neither can I. Or I'd be too tired to work.”

“Good. Maybe I need to keep you too tired to work, so you don't think of that fancy job of yours all the time.”

She was surprised at his comment. “D o I do that?” She wasn't aware of thinking of work all the time, and wondered what he meant by it.

“Not really. But there's a certain awareness that you have another life, not just your kids and your house, and a husband.”

“Ah.” Understanding was beginning to dawn. “You mean I'm not just a housewife. Do you mind that?”

“No.” He shook his head slowly, thinking about it, as they wandered down Lexington Avenue with no particular destination in mind. It was just a hot, sunny day, and they were happy to be together.” I don't mind. And I'm very impressed by what you do, and I respect who you are. But it's different than if you were just…"H e looked for the words and smiled down at her. “An ordinary mortal.”

“Bullshit. What's different about it?”

“You couldn't just leave for Europe with me for six months, could you?”

“No, my contract wouldn't exactly melt into thin air, not without a hefty lawsuit. But you couldn't do that either.”

“That's different. I'm a man.”

“Oh, Peter!” She hooted. “You are a rotten chauvinist.” “Yes”—he looked down at her proudly—“I am. But I still respect your job. So long as you stay as feminine as you are and can manage all the womanly stuff too.”

“What does that mean?” She was suddenly vastly amused by him. From anyone else it might have annoyed her, but it didn't from him. “You mean like wax floors and bake cheesecake?”

“No, be a good mother, have babies, care about the man in your life, without putting your work first. I was always happy that Anne didn't work because it meant she was there for me. It would bother me if the woman I loved weren't.”

“No one's there all the time, Peter. No woman and no man. But if you care enough about someone you can juggle things most of the time, so you're there when they really need you. It's a question of good organization, and a sense of priorities. I've been there for the girls most of the time, in fact almost always.”

“I know you have.” He had sensed that about her from the first. “But you haven't wanted to be there for a man.”

“No, I haven't.” She was honest with him.

“And now?” He looked worried as he asked the question, like a little boy who was afraid he wouldn't find his mommy.

“What are you asking me, Peter?” There was a sudden silence between them. There was a potential which they both sensed, which still frightened them both, but Peter was bravest about pointing to it, and now he suddenly wanted to know where Mel stood, but he didn't want to scare her off. Maybe it was too soon to be asking these questions. She sensed his concern and leaned toward him. “Don't worry so much.”

“I just wonder what all this means to you sometimes.”

“The same thing it means to you. Something beautiful and wonderful that's never happened to me before. And if you want to know where it's going, I can't tell you.”

He nodded. “I know. And that bothers me too. It's like in surgery, I don't like to wing it, I like to know where I'm going, what's the next step.” He smiled at her. “I'm a planner, Mel.”

“So am I. But you can't plan these things.” And as she smiled at him, the mood lightened between them.

“Why not?” He was teasing now and she grinned. “What do you want, a contract from me?”

“Sure. A contract for that gorgeous body of yours anytime I want it.”

They held hands and swung their arms, and Mel looked at him happily. “I'm so glad you stayed for the weekend.”

“So am I.”

They went to Central Park then, and wandered around until five and then walked up Fifth Avenue to the Stanhope Hotel and had a drink at the outdoor café. And then they walked the few blocks back to her house again, ready to sequester themselves again in her comfortable little house. They lay on the bed and made love, and sat watching the sunset at eight o'clock, and then they showered and went to Elaine's for dinner. The place was mobbed and Mel knew half the people there, even though most of the people she knew left town for the weekend in summer. One instantly sensed how much a part of her life this was; the celebrities whom she knew and who knew her, the recognition, and the whole electricity of New York seemed to suit her. There was a milieu like that in L.A. too but it had never been a part of his life. He was too busy with his own doings, his family, and his patients.

“So, Doctor, what do you think of New York?” They were walking arm in arm down Second Avenue, back toward her house.

“I think you love it, and it loves you.”

“I think you're right.” She smiled happily. “But I happen to love you too.”

“Even though I'm not a talk show host, or a politician or a writer?”

“You're better than all that, Peter. You're real.”

He smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. But so are they.”

“It's not the same thing with them. They only touch half my life, Peter. There's another part they never come near. I've never really found anyone who understood both halves of my life before. My family life and my professional life are both important to me, and they're so diametrically different.”