Danielle Steel - Bittersweet

“I didn't have time to brush my hair,” she said, running her hand over the blond mane with a smile. “Do I look that bad?”

“Yes,” Gail said honestly, with worried eyes examining her, “but it's not your hair. You look like you've lost ten pounds.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Except you look like someone died.” She had. But she hadn't wanted to tell Gail about it. “What happened to you? Did you get sick this summer?” Gail looked genuinely worried.

“Sort of,” she said vaguely, trying to avoid Gail's eyes, but as usual, she was unsuccessful. Gail had a terrier quality to her when she wanted to know something.

“Oh, Jesus. Are you pregnant?” But she didn't look like it. She looked miserable and dead inside. There was a lot more wrong with her than morning sickness. “Have you got time for a cappuccino?”

“I guess so,” India said limply. She had some things to organize at home, a stack of laundry to do, and a list of women to call to confirm her car pools.

“I'll meet you at ‘Caffe Latte’ in five minutes.”

They both got in their cars, and Gail was already ordering for them when India got there. She knew exactly the way India liked it. Cappuccino with a splash of low-fat milk, two sugars. Five minutes later, they were at a corner table, with two chocolate-covered biscotti between them.

“You didn't say anything when I called you in Harwich. What in hell has been going on with you this summer?” Gail was upset as she looked at her. She had never seen India so miserable or so lifeless, and she only hoped she didn't have some terrible physical problem. At their age, there was always that to think of, like breast cancer. As Gail watched her, India took a sip of the cappuccino and said nothing for a moment. “Is it you and Doug?” she asked with a moment of insight.

“Maybe. Actually it's me. I don't know…. The ball started rolling in June and it's turned into an avalanche since then.”

“What ball?” What was she talking about? But Gail just sat there and listened for a minute, while India said nothing. “Did you have an affair on the Cape?” She knew that was preposterous, but it was worth asking anyway. You never knew about people. Sometimes the quiet, loyal ones like India fell the hardest. But if she'd had an affair, it certainly didn't look like it had gone well.

“After you and I talked, before school let out,” India began to explain painfully, “I started thinking about working again. It was when I turned down the job in Korea. I don't know …maybe that was what did it … I honestly don't know what did. But I started thinking that I might enjoy doing stories again once in a while, nothing big, just like the one in Harlem.”

“That was pretty big, India. You should have won an award for it. It was a very important piece of journalism.”

“Well, anyway, I was thinking that I could do stories around here … in New York … in the States at any rate, as long as it wasn't for too long, or too far away. … I thought maybe I could find someone to help with the kids if I did that.”

“That's terrific.” Gail looked pleased for her, but it was obvious there was more to the story. “And then what?”

“Doug went crazy. He basically threatened to leave me if I did, to put it in a nutshell. We practically haven't talked to each other all summer, or done anything else with each other, for that matter,” she said darkly, and Gail was quick to get the gist of her meaning.

“It sounds like he's being an asshole,” Gail said bluntly.

“You might say that. He put it in no uncertain terms. He basically forbade me to do any assignments. He said I had betrayed him, that I was breaking the ‘deal’ I made with him when I married him, that I'd destroy our family, and he wouldn't put up with it. Basically, my choices are that I can do some work and he'll walk out on me, or I can keep my mouth shut, keep doing what I've done for fourteen years, and stay married. It's that simple.”

“What's the payoff here for you? What do you get out of it if you sacrifice your talent for him, just to soothe his ego? Because it sounds to me like he's threatened, and he's bullying the hell out of you. What's he offering you to sweeten the deal?”

“Nothing. And that's the other thing …” India said as tears sprang to her eyes as she put down her cappuccino. “We had sort of a dumb conversation in June when he took me out to dinner. He made it sound like I'm some kind of a workhorse he bought years ago. He ‘expects’ me to take care of his kids, and just be there. But to tell you the truth, Gail,” the tears overflowed then and rolled down her cheeks slowly, “I'm not even sure he loves me.” India's voice caught on a sob as she said it.

“He probably does.” Gail looked at her sympathetically, she felt sorry for her. India looked so desperately unhappy. “He just may not know it, or how to show it. He's not that different from Jeff. He thinks I'm part of the furniture, but if he ever lost me, it would probably kill him.”

“I'm not sure Doug feels that way. He made it sound like he owns me, but not like he loves me. I don't think he does. And if he does, I'm so mad at him anyway, I'm not even sure I care anymore. It's the most godawful feeling … I feel like my whole life fell apart this summer.” Gail watched her as she listened, wondering what else had happened. She suspected there was more to it, although what she had heard was enough to upset anyone. India felt ignored, unloved, and unimportant to her husband. “Anyway, I told him I wouldn't take any assignments anymore, even the ones like Harlem. I'll keep my name on the roster, but I won't take anything they give me. I just can't do it. I think he really would leave me. We argued about it for two months, and it wrecked our whole summer. If I hold out for what I want, it'll destroy our life, and I don't want that.”

“So you give up what you want?” It made Gail's blood boil, but the theory wasn't unfamiliar to her. “And what did he say? Did he thank you} Does he get it?”

“No. He just seemed to expect it. But the night I told him, he tried to make love to me for the first time in nearly two months. I almost hit him. And he hasn't touched me since then. What I don't know is where I go from here …what do I do? Suddenly all the things I did without even questioning them don't feel right anymore. I feel like I lost a part of myself this summer, and I don't know how to get it back again, or if I ever will. I feel like I gave him my heart and my insides.” Looking at her, Gail was truly worried. It was obvious that India felt destroyed over what had happened, and she wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better. To Gail, this was why women had affairs, and cheated on their husbands, to find someone who made them feel loved and cherished and important. And Gail knew, maybe even more than India did, that Doug had taken a hell of a chance with his position. He may have thought he'd won, but Gail wasn't so sure yet. India was really hurting.

“What else did you do this summer, other than cry, and fight with Doug? Did you have any fun at all, go anywhere with the kids, meet new people?” She was trying to distract her. It seemed like all she could do now. And at the question she asked, India brightened.

“I met Serena Smith,” she said, wiping her eyes, and blowing her nose in the paper napkin. She looked and felt awful, which confirmed to Gail what she had thought in the first place. Doug Taylor was an asshole.

“The writer?” Gail looked interested immediately. She had read everything she'd ever written. “How'd you manage that?”

“She was a friend's college roommate, and her husband came to Harwich with his sailboat. Sam and I went out on it with him, and he was wonderful to Sam. We got to know him before Serena got there. I did a book cover shot for her, and she seemed pretty happy with it.” Talking about Serena reminded India that she had brought the photograph of Serena and Paul back to Westport with her, but she still hadn't had time to send it to her.