Danielle Steel: Bittersweet

“Thank you!” It was Sam then, and he had broken something, and she had no idea if it was serious. But she was very worried, and felt very guilty. And as she turned, she saw that Paul was still standing there, and had been listening. She turned to him with frightened eyes and his heart went out to her, and the boy who had sailed with him on the Sea Star , “How do I call home from here?” She figured he'd know that. He'd been there longer than she.

“Same way they called you. It's almost impossible to hear, though. I gave up calling weeks ago. I figure if something important happens, they'll find me somehow. If nothing else, they can call the Red Cross in Cyangugu. It's a two-hour drive from here, but they're wired into a real phone line.”

She decided to cash in her chips then. “Will you drive me?” she asked him with a trembling voice and he nodded.

He only hesitated for an instant. But it seemed like the only thing to do. She needed to know what had happened. “Sure. I'll tell them we're taking the jeep out again. I'll be back in a minute.” He was back in what seemed like less than that, and India hopped in beside him. Five minutes after she'd heard about Sam, they were on their way to Cyangugu. And for a long time, they both said nothing, and then finally, Paul tried to reassure her.

“It's probably nothing,” he said, trying to sound calmer than he felt. Even he was worried.

“I hope you're right,” she said tersely, and then, looking out the window at the landscape sliding by, she spoke in a strangled voice filled with guilt and panic. “Maybe Doug is right. Maybe I have no right to do this. I'm at the other end of the world from my kids. If something happens to one of them, it'll take me two days to get home, if I'm lucky. They can't even call me easily. Maybe I owe them more than that at this point.” She was feeling awful and he could see it.

“They're staying with their father, India,” he reminded her. “He can handle it until you get home, if it's serious.” And then, as much to distract her as out of his own curiosity, he asked her a question. “What's with the girlfriend? Is it for real?”

“I guess so. She moved in with him, with her two kids. My kids hate them, and her. They think she's stupid.”

“They'd probably hate anyone who came on the scene at this point, with either of you,” he said, thinking of himself and the dinner in Westport. At the time he had thought it was fun, and then afterward when he revisited it, he decided they had all hated him, and always would. In fact, it had only been Jessica who had been cool to him. The others had liked him. But he had chosen to repress that. And his son Sean's words hadn't fallen on deaf ears. The prospect of helping her raise four potential juvenile delinquents, all of whom were sure to wind up in Attica, according to Sean, had terrified him. Not to mention his casual suggestion that India might get pregnant, though apparently she hadn't. But it had all contributed to his panic. But now all he could think of was Sam, when he had stood on the bridge next to him, and helped him sail the Sea Star …and then afterward, when he lay on the couch in the cockpit, sleeping with his head in his mother's lap, while she stroked his hair, and talked about her marriage. And now they were here, in Africa, and Sam was hurt. Rather than calming her, she had succeeded in upsetting him too. And they were both anxious to get to the Red Cross in Cyangugu to call home.

In the end, with a herd of cattle crossing the road, a dead horse blocking it completely farther on, and a group of Tutsi soldiers at a makeshift checkpoint, it had taken them three hours to get there on roads that were gutted and had been washed out by the rains. And the Red Cross office was just closing when they reached it. India hopped out even before he stopped, waving frantically at the woman locking the door, and she explained what she needed from her. The woman paused and then nodded, as India offered to pay her anything she wanted for the call.

“bu may not be able to get through right away,” the woman warned. “Sometimes the lines are down and we have to wait for hours. But you can try it.”

India picked up the precious phone with trembling hands while Paul watched with a stern expression and said nothing. The woman went back to her office and picked up some papers. She wasn't in a hurry, and had been very kind to India. And at least the lines weren't down. It seemed like an absolute miracle when she heard the phone ringing in Westport. She had decided to call the house, for lack of a better idea where to call for information. She just hoped someone would be there. But mercifully, Doug answered on the second ring, as India fought back tears as she heard the familiar voice, and wrestled with another rising wave of panic about her youngest son.

“Hi, it's me.” She identified herself quickly. “How's Sam? What happened?”

“He broke his wrist in school, playing baseball,” he said matter-of-factly.

“His wrist?” She looked startled. “That's all?”

“Were you hoping it was more?”

“No, I just thought since you called me here that it was serious. I had no idea what he'd broken. I was imagining something truly awful, like a fractured skull and a coma.” Paul was watching her intently.

“I think this is bad enough,” Doug said, sounding pompous, “he's in a lot of pain. Tanya has been taking care of him all day. And he's off the team for the rest of the season.”

“Tell him I love him,” was all India could muster, “and thank Tanya for me.” She was going to ask to talk to Sam then but Doug had more to say to her, and it was obvious he wasn't happy with her.

“Tanya deserves a medal. He's not her son after all, and she's been wonderful to him. And if you were here to take care of him yourself, India, you could shoulder your own responsibilities and not expect us to do it for you.” Same old Doug. Same old story. Same old guilt. But it no longer hit her the way it used to. She had grown up in the past year, and although she still worried about her kids, Doug's hook on her had loosened. She no longer felt as guilty, except when something like this happened. And if it had been serious, she would have been devastated. But she thanked God it wasn't.

“They're your kids too, Doug.” She lobbed the ball firmly back in his court. “And look at it this way, you get three weeks with them.”

“I'm glad you can brush this off so lightly,” he said coldly, and her eyes blazed as she answered, and Paul watched her.

“I just drove three hours to get to a phone to call you, and I'll have another three hours to get back to camp. I don't think I'd call that ‘lightly.’” She'd had enough of him by then, and she was tying up the Red Cross phone, and keeping the woman who ran it from leaving, for nothing. Sam was fine, and it wasn't a big deal fortunately. “Can I speak to him now?”

“He's sleeping,” Doug said firmly. “And I really don't think I should wake him. He was up all night with the pain, and Tanya just gave him something for it.” Hearing that Sam had been suffering made her stomach turn over, particularly knowing she hadn't been there for him.

“Tell him I love him very much when he wakes up,” she said, as tears filled her eyes. Suddenly she missed not only Sam, but all her children. And with a six-hour time difference, with Westport behind her by that much, she knew the others were in school and she couldn't talk to them either.

“I would have thought you'd have called him yesterday, when it happened, by the way.” He threw in one last barb for good measure. And the tone of his voice made her so angry, it diminished her sense of sadness.

“I just got the message three hours ago. I told you messages would take a while to reach me. Tell him I'll sign his cast when I get home. Save me room.” She decided to ignore Doug's snide accusations.