Danielle Steel: Bittersweet

“So do I,” she said sadly. She couldn't imagine how or where or when she'd find someone, she somehow thought it would be a long time before she did, if ever. She still had a lot of things to work out of her system. Like Paul. But at least they could talk to each other now, and have a friendly evening.

“Just make sure you're ready for him when he comes,” Paul advised, “and not hiding under your bed with your eyes closed, or far away in a place like this, as far away from the world as you can get. That's no way to find the kind of person you want, India. You have to get out there.” But they both knew she didn't want to, any more than he did.

“Maybe he'll find me.”

“Don't count on it. You have to make a little effort, or at least wave him in. It's not easy getting through a hurricane, you know, you've got high winds and bad weather and a lot of dangerous conditions to contend with. You've got to stand out there and wave like hell, India, if you want him.” They exchanged a long smile, and silently wished each other well, whatever it was they each thought they wanted.

It was nearly midnight by then, and Paul finally got up, and they cleaned up the mess they'd made. They'd touched on a lot of important subjects to them that day, and had spent a lot of good time together.

“I'm glad Sam was okay,” Paul said as she put the box of Wheaties away and nodded. And then he chuckled. “And by the way, when you find that guy who's willing to come through the hurricane for you, you'd better hide your kids somewhere, or he may run right back out into the hurricane. A woman with four kids is pretty scary, no matter how terrific she is.” But she no longer believed what he was saying. Her children had scared him, but they wouldn't scare everyone, and she said as much as they cleaned up from their “dinner.”

“They're great kids, Paul, as kids go. And the right guy is going to want me with them. They're not a handicap to everyone, and they'll grow up eventually.” Paul had made her feel like damaged goods when he sent her away, as though she wasn't good enough for him. She didn't measure up to Serena, and she had too many children. But broken down, one by one, they were nice people. And so was she. And she was even beginning to suspect, remembering things he had said to her, that there were things about her that Serena might never have measured up to. At least it was something to think of.

He walked her slowly back to her tent, and then stopped and looked at her. It had been nice spending the day together. And it had been a turning point for both of them, a kind of farewell to what they had once shared, and a welcome to their new friendship. They had brought some good things along with them, cast some bad things away, and discovered some new things about each other.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Get some sleep.” It had been a long day, and they were both tired. And then he looked at her with a shy smile, and said something that touched her deeply. “I'm glad you came here.”

“So am I,” she said, and then disappeared into her tent with a silent wave. She was glad their paths had crossed again. Maybe it was destiny. They had both come a long way since they met, and had come over arduous roads, and rough terrain. And she was finally beginning to see the sun coming up over the mountains. But she knew, after listening to him, that he still had a long journey ahead. And she hoped that, for his sake, one day he'd get there.

Chapter 26

THE NEXT two weeks flew by, almost too fast for India, although she missed her children. She flew a few transport missions with Paul, and she took several trips in the jeep with Randy and Ian. She photographed the children she saw endlessly, and interviewed everyone she could lay her hands on. She had bags and bags of film to show for it, and she knew she had a great story.

And she and Paul spent several long evenings chatting. Having made their peace with the past, they found they had some terrific times together. They laughed about silly things, saw the same humor in almost everything, and she found that, even without the relationship they'd once had, they still cared about each other immensely. He always seemed to be hovering somewhere nearby, protecting her, and watching over her, anxious to make things easy for her, and she was deeply concerned about him.

And they managed to spend their last night together. He talked about what he was going to do next. He was planning to leave Rwanda sometime in June, and there was another airlift he had planned in Kenya. And he still had vague plans about going back to Europe, or the States, in the summer, to spend some time on the Sea Star.

“Call me if you come through town,” she said, and he asked if she was going to Cape Cod again. She was, in July, and for the first week in August. After that, she was leaving the house, and the kids, to Doug and Tanya.

“It sounds pretty civilized,” he said, as they shared a Coca-Cola.

“It is.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of August?” He knew she had nowhere else to go except back to Westport.

“Work, I hope. I asked Raoul to find something juicy for me.” She had loved her time in Rwanda. It had been far more wonderful than she'd expected, and the added bonus of finding Paul had made it a time she would never forget, and would always cherish. A final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place for her. She knew she still loved him, but she was able to let him go now.

He flew her to Kigali himself the next day, instead of having to take the egg-crate she had come in when she arrived. All she had to do now was catch a plane to Kampala, and then back to London. And after that, it was easy.

She knew the kids would be waiting for her, and she could hardly wait to see them. And as they waited for her plane to arrive, Paul reminded her to give his love to Sam, and say hello to the others.

“I will if they're not in jail,” she teased him. It was easier now that his old fears were no longer between them, and she no longer had any expectations of him. Her dreams did not depend on him anymore. And though they had lost something of enormous value to her, instead in Africa they had found something very small and precious.

Her plane arrived finally, and she looked at him tenderly, and then she put her arms around him and hugged him. “Take care of yourself, Paul … be good to yourself. You deserve it.”

“So do you …and if I see a guy in a slicker, looking for a hurricane, I'll send him to you.”

“Don't worry about it,” she said with a smile, and meant it. But she knew that despite what no longer existed between them anymore, she was going to miss him.

“I'll call you sometime, if I ever get back to civilization.” There was no threat to him anymore, and no promise either.

“I'd like that.”

And then he took her in his arms and held her for a few final seconds. There was a lot he would have liked to say to her, but he didn't know how. More than anything, he wanted to thank her, and he wasn't even sure why. Maybe just for knowing who he was, and letting him be that person. They had somehow managed to find a kind of unconditional acceptance of each other.

There were tears in her eyes as she boarded the plane, and he stood on the tarmac and watched her for a long time. And then he stood there and watched the plane, as it took off, circled the airfield once, and headed slowly back to where she had come from.

He got back in his own plane then, and flew back to Cyangugu, and he had an odd feeling of peace as he thought about her. She didn't frighten him anymore, she didn't make him run away, and his feelings for her now, whatever they were, didn't even make him feel guilty. He just loved her, as a friend, a mother, a sister. He knew he would miss the laughter he had shared with her, and the mischief in her eyes, and the raw outrage she expressed when she thought he had said something stupid. She was no longer hurt or angry at him or afraid of him. She wasn't desperate for him to love her anymore, nor did she expect anything from him. She wasn't desperate for anything. She was a bird sailing through her own skies, and thinking of her that way made him feel strangely happy. And it was only when he got back to camp, and everyone was saying how much they would miss her, that he felt the full force of her absence. It hit him harder than he'd expected.