Danielle Steel - Bittersweet

“I'll call you at lunchtime every day,” he promised. But that left a void over the weekends.

“I'll call you on the weekends,” she said, feeling faintly guilty. “Maybe I can get to a pay phone, when I take Sam to soccer or something.” There was something sneaky about it that disturbed her. But she didn't want her calls to him via the Satcom on their phone bill. And innocent as it was, she knew she couldn't explain this to her husband. It was the first secret pact she had made with anyone, the first clandestine thing she'd ever done, and yet when she questioned herself about it, she knew that it was different than Gail meeting men in motels. This was different.

They talked longer than usual that night, and they both sounded lonely when they finally ended the conversation. She felt as though she had spent her last evening in London with him. The inspectors she had worked with all week had invited her out, but she said she was too tired to go, and she was. She was happy staying in her hotel room and talking to Paul on the phone.

And she was surprised the next morning when he called just before she left the hotel. She had just finished closing her suitcase.

“I just wanted to say good-bye, and wish you a safe trip home,” he said, sounding a little sheepish. Sometimes, when he called her, he felt like a kid again, and in spite of himself, he liked it. “Say hi to Sam for me when you see him.” And then he wondered if she could do that, or if he would say something to his father. Theirs was certainly an odd situation. They were phone pals.

“Take care of yourself, Paul,” she said again. “And thank you …” He had given her so much support while she did her stories. He was the champion of her cause to go back to work, and it was thanks to his encouragement that she had finally done it.

“Don't forget to send me the pictures. I'll tell you where to send them.” He had addresses here and there to get his mail, and contracts and business papers sent to him from his office. “I can't wait to see them.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, and there was suddenly an odd moment of silence, as she looked out the window over the rooftops of London. “I'll miss you,” she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her. It was nice being in the same part of the world with him, even if she hadn't seen him. In Westport, she felt like she was on another planet. But at least she could call him.

“I miss you already,” he said, forgetting himself, and Serena. “Don't let anyone upset you.” They both knew who he meant, and she nodded.

“Don't be too hard on yourself …take it easy….”

“I will. You too. I'll call you on Monday.” It was Friday, and they had a whole weekend to get through, unless she called him from a pay phone. And she suddenly wondered if they could do it. After spending so much time on the phone every day while she was there, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like not to talk to him for a few days. It made her feel lonely just thinking about it.

She had to run to catch her plane then, and they hung up. And she thought about him all the way to the airport, and on the plane. She sat staring out the window for a long time, thinking about him, and the things he had said, about himself, and Serena. He was so sure that he would never love anyone again, and a part of her didn't believe that. Another part of her wondered if he was in love with her. But that was foolish. They were only friends. It was what she kept telling herself all the way back to the States. It didn't matter what she felt. It was exactly what he said and nothing more. A friendship.

Chapter 18

WHEN INDIA walked into the house at five-fifteen on Friday night, the kids were all in the kitchen, eating snacks, and playing and teasing each other, and the dog was barking. And just looking at them made it feel as though she had never left them. It made London seem like a dream, and the stories she'd covered unreal, and her friendship with Paul nonexistent. This was her life, her reality, her existence.

And the moment they saw her, Aimee let out a squeal, and Jason and Sam both ran toward her, as Jessica waved to her with a broad grin while holding the phone and chatting to one of her buddies. And suddenly she had her arms full of children, and she realized how much she'd missed them. Her life had seemed so grown-up for a week, so independent, so free, and it had been exciting. But this was even better.

“Wow! I missed you guys!” she said as she held them close to her, and then they broke free, and told her all at once what had happened all week. Sam had scored the winning goal at soccer, twice, Aimee had lost two more teeth, Jason had had his braces off, and according to them, Jessica had a new boyfriend. It was business as usual as she listened to them, and after ten minutes of celebrating her return, everyone went upstairs to do homework, call friends, or watch TV. By six o'clock it was as though she had never left them.

She took her suitcase upstairs and sat on the bed, looking around her bedroom. Nothing had changed. It was the same safe little world, and her children had survived her absence. So had she. In an odd way, it made the trip seem completely unreal, and like a figment of her imagination.

The only time it became a reality was when she saw Doug's face when he came home at seven. He looked like a storm cloud, and he barely managed to say hello to her before they sat down to dinner. The babysitter had stayed to help her, and had left before Doug came in. They were having steak and mashed potatoes and string beans, and even the kitchen looked tidy, as India went to kiss him. She was still wearing her traveling clothes, black wool pants and a warm sweater so she wouldn't be cold on the plane. And he turned away as she tried to kiss him. She hadn't talked to him since she left eight days before, the morning of Thanksgiving. Every time she had called, the kids had said he was out or busy, and he had never called her.

“How was your trip?” he asked formally as he sat down, and the children noticed the chill between them.

“It was great,” India said easily, and then she told them all about the wedding. The girls were particularly hungry for the details. But even Jason and Sam were impressed when she told them about the Kings and Queens and Prime Ministers, and that the President and First Lady had been there.

“Did you say hi from me?” Sam asked with a giggle.

“Of course I did,” India smiled at him, “and the President said, ‘Say hi to my friend Sam.’” But Sam laughed as she said it. They were all in good spirits, except Doug, who continued to look angry all through dinner.

And the dam finally broke when they got upstairs to their bedroom. “You seem to have enjoyed yourself,” he said accusingly. He could detect no remorse in her whatsoever. Worse yet, he could see no fear of the displeasure she had caused him, or the consequences it might lead to. But that had been Paul's gift to her. She felt more at ease in her own skin than she had in years, and even proud of what she'd accomplished. But watching Doug as he sat down and glared at her, she finally felt a little tremor.

“I did some good work over there,” she said quietly, but without apology. She was mostly sorry that he couldn't share the good feelings with her. “The children seem fine.” It was their common bond, the one thing they seemed to have left to cling to, since they no longer seemed to have each other. He still hadn't touched her, or put an arm around her, or kissed her. He was obviously much too angry.

“No thanks to you,” he said, referring to her comment about the children. “It's interesting that you're willing to do the same thing to them your father did to you. Have you thought of that at all this week?” He was trying to make her feel guilty, but thus far not succeeding.