“That’s exactly the kind of woman I want,” Bill said, as the others laughed, and everyone relaxed. Paul had broken the ice, and after that, they all treated Bill as they had before, and not like the heir to Browning Oil. He hoped things would go as smoothly in San Francisco, if word got out there. And their reaction increased his respect and affection for his new friends.
* * *
—
On Friday, Bill left from the office to take the Eurostar to London to see his girls. They’d all had a hard week in Paris, and were hoping to get some downtime on the weekend. Marie-Laure and Wendy were planning to visit some of the injured children, and were going to have dinner afterward. Marie-Laure’s mother was helping with her children for the weekend, which gave her some free time.
Valérie was meeting with various groups in the counseling program, and she wanted to visit Solange to see how she was. She hadn’t been to school since the shooting, and her grandmother had told Valérie that she was very depressed about her father’s death. Tom was trying to get Valérie to take an evening off and have a quiet dinner with him. He was worried about how hard she was working. She was running all the counseling programs, visiting victims, meeting with bereaved parents, and had been on TV twice that week in draining interviews about the shooting and the loss of so many children, a first in France. She had a lot of weight on her shoulders, and Tom wanted to help her as best he could. He put aside his own plans to be available to her, and she was grateful to him for it. A new man had emerged from the joker he’d been when he arrived.
It meant Paul was on his own to cruise the bars, but after what they’d been through that week, he wasn’t in the mood anyway. No one was. There was a pall over the whole city, and all of France. Gabriel was planning to stay at the apartment with Stephanie. They were inseparable now. In less than two dizzying weeks, Gabriel had become her life.
Chapter Ten
Valérie’s weekend was as busy as her week had been, and after half a dozen phone calls and as many texts, she let Tom join her for part of it, particularly the visits to the injured children. He was great with them. She did her visits to the bereaved parents alone, which was more delicate and part of her job.
Her visit to Solange Blanchet was heartbreaking, and she told Tom about it afterward. The girl was going to be marked for life. She was wearing a heavy mantle of guilt for her father, which Valérie tried to lighten for her, but it would take time, and a lot of help. With Valérie’s advice, she agreed to change schools, and she and her grandmother decided that she should start using her mother’s maiden name, which was the same as her grandmother’s. Her father’s name was too hated now in France and throughout the world, a mass murderer of children and adults was too great a burden for Solange to bear. But Valérie knew these were only the first baby steps for Solange. She had a long road ahead of her to be free of the past. Possibly a life’s work, maybe until she had a family of her own.
Valérie met up with Tom again after meeting with Solange, and they had dinner together that night. Inevitably, they talked about the injured children, and the extensive surgeries they would have after the damage of the Kalashnikovs to their limbs. They had grueling years ahead, which seemed incredibly unfair, but at least they were alive.
After dinner, they went for a long walk, which led them to the rue du Bac where she lived. He remembered how pleasant her apartment was from the night she’d had them all to dinner, but she didn’t invite him upstairs, and was honest about why.
“I don’t want either of us to make a mistake, in the aftermath of the shooting and all the emotions it lays bare. We experienced some terrible things together this week. It would be easy to fall into bed to comfort each other, and I’m sure it would be well worth it.” She smiled at him. She had the feeling he would be an incredible lover, but she didn’t want to find out yet. “I want to keep things real between us, if that’s all right with you. Not a game, not a joke, not a crutch for both of us to use and then throw away. I have this crazy feeling now that we could be important to each other, and I don’t want to spoil that, or waste it, or use it up too soon. I hope that doesn’t sound frightening to you. I know you’ve never had a serious relationship and you’re proud of it. And I don’t want to be another notch on your belt. We’re both too old for that,” she said, and a tremor went down his spine as she said it.
“Maybe not as proud as you think. My pride in never having been in love is more of a cover for not having the guts to try.” She knew that, and nodded at what he said. She loved that he was honest with her and Tom liked what she had said. Whatever they shared now, whether friendship or romance, he wanted it to be real too. It was what he liked best about her, that she was so real, and not afraid to be. He had been afraid to be that open all his life, except in his work, which was the serious part of him.
She allowed him to kiss her on the lips and they stood together for a long time, and then she smiled the mysterious smile that turned his insides to mush and vanished behind the heavy door. He walked home alone after that, thinking of everything she’d said.
And when he got to his apartment, he didn’t call Paul, his bar buddy in Paris, to carouse with him. He didn’t have a drink. He went straight to bed, with Valérie on his mind.
* * *
—
The weekend in London with Pip and Alex was exactly what Bill needed. He didn’t see their mother when he picked them up. She and Rupert were away for the weekend. And he explained the school shooting in Paris to the girls as simply as he could, particularly to Pip, who asked him a lot of questions about it. They had talked about it in school. Alex knew of it too, but was still too young to say much on the subject. Bill was thoughtful and sad as he discussed it with them. He told them about the children they’d been able to save.
“You’re a hero, Daddy!” Pip said, impressed and proud of him.
“No, I’m not,” he denied it, thinking of all the children who had died. “Everyone worked really hard to save them. We were a team. There were a lot of heroes.”
For the rest of the weekend, they turned their minds to other things. He took them to a children’s art exhibit. They went ice skating, and the production of Annie was fantastic. The girls loved it and so did he. Being with his own children gave him back a sense of normalcy. They had a big room-service breakfast on Sunday, went for a long walk in the park, had a quick lunch at a pizza parlor they loved, and he took them home. The time always passed too quickly, but was well filled, with activities they all enjoyed. He was good at keeping them busy.
They were sad to see him leave on Sunday afternoon, but were looking forward to meeting him in Paris the following weekend. And Euro Disney was still the plan. He’d had some qualms about it being dangerous, if there were any copycat events by other madmen, which inevitably one thought about now. Anything was possible. But the security at Euro Disney in Paris was so extreme that he had decided it would still be safe to take his children there, as safe as any place was in today’s world, where anything could happen, anywhere, at any time. Even Athena had agreed and said she wasn’t worried.
He was peaceful and happy, as he always was after he saw them, on his way back to Paris on the train. He was back in the city at seven o’clock, and ran into Wendy as they walked into their building at the same time.
“How was London?” she asked him with a smile.
“Terrific. We went to a new singalong version of Annie. My girls knew all the words, and so did I.” He looked mildly embarrassed when he said it, but it had been fun. “What did you do this weekend?” He chatted with her as they walked up the stairs side by side.
“I saw Marie-Laure, and then we went to her apartment and saw her kids. I was going to see Valérie, but she was swamped.”
“I figured she would be, for a while.” He felt somewhat exposed as he talked to Wendy, now that everyone in the group knew of his ties to Browning Oil. He had
played “poor boy” all his life. His vast family fortune had always embarrassed him, and still did. It seemed so excessive. He lived comfortably, but not extravagantly. And as they reached her door, he gave her a warm look. “Do you want to have dinner down the street?” There were no romantic undercurrents between them, which made it easy to be with her. She just seemed like she’d make a good friend. She hesitated for a minute and then nodded. She had nothing better to do that night, except her nails and hair.
“I’d like that, thank you.” She dropped off the milk, eggs, and baguette she’d just bought, while he put his suitcase in his apartment, and they headed back down the stairs a few minutes later. She told him about the Picasso exhibit she had gone to at Le Petit Palais, and that she’d gone to church at La Madeleine, where there was a special mass for the victims of the shooting.
She commented on how subdued the atmosphere in the city was, and how affected people were by the tragedy at the lycée. The funerals for the victims had begun that weekend. Many were at Père Lachaise cemetery, and other cemeteries around the city. It weighed heavily on the Parisians, and had shaken everyone around the world, because in each country people realized how vulnerable they were and how easily it could happen to them. Bill had thought about it with his girls that weekend at the play. He and Athena had exchanged emails earlier in the week, when he inquired about the security measures at their school, and he was satisfied by what she said. Things seemed somewhat tighter in Britain than they were in France, but the British had been dealing with similar issues for years, since the heated days with the IRA.
Wendy could tell that he was feeling better about the article in the paper earlier that week. All he said about it was that he hoped it wasn’t syndicated to the San Francisco Chronicle, but he didn’t dwell on it as he had when it came out. He asked if she had heard from her boyfriend and she looked startled, but said she hadn’t. She didn’t explain why.
Over a chocolate éclair they shared for dessert at their favorite bistro, he asked her if she wanted to go to Euro Disney the following weekend with his girls. They were planning to go on Saturday.
“I got nervous about that too,” he confessed, “but I think the security is very tight. And the girls can’t wait to go.”
“I’d love it.” She smiled at him. “I don’t get to do things with children very often. It was a relief seeing Marie-Laure’s boys this weekend. They’re really sweet. They’re five, eight, and eleven, which isn’t easy without a father. She seems to manage them really well, although she says it’s hard, and her mother helps.”
“I wish I saw more of mine,” he said wistfully, and she nodded. “We do a lot of different things when they’re with me in San Francisco, and go camping a lot.” They were still chatting easily when they wandered back to the apartment, and he left her at her door. They were halfway through their stay in Paris, which seemed hard to believe. They all felt as though they had been there for months. A lot had happened since they’d arrived. And their agenda was heavily scheduled until the end. On a personal level, romances had started, Gabriel and Stephanie’s passionate affair, and he and Wendy were becoming friends. It had been a very full two weeks!
* * *
—
After a lustful weekend with Stephanie, Gabriel decided to go home on Sunday night. His boys were busy but he said he liked to touch base with them on Sunday nights and have dinner at home. And Stephanie was exhausted by then anyway. They’d had a very full weekend, and made love every time they came back to the apartment, and several times a night. She’d never had a sex life like what she and Gabriel shared. He was a very sensual man and couldn’t get enough of her. And he had mentioned on Sunday that when he came to San Francisco, he wanted her to stay at the hotel with him, which brought her up short and was a dose of reality. It made clear his expectations, which weren’t realistic for her.
“Gabriel, I’m not in the same situation you are. I have a husband who expects me to come home and be his wife again.” He didn’t look happy when she said it over breakfast in her tiny kitchen. “My husband has no clue that anything has changed.”
“You told me that things haven’t been working between you, and he suggested a separation.”
“That’s true, he did, when he was angry at me. And things aren’t working. But we haven’t done anything about it, or come to any conclusions. I’m going to have to talk to him when I go back. We’ll have a lot to work out, with two small children.” She knew that Andy would be shocked and devastated. She wasn’t looking forward to it. For now, it was incredibly romantic being in Paris, but when she went home, she’d have to face the music if she and Gabriel were going to take this further, and it was still very new. They both had marriages to unwind if this was more than an affair. She was somewhat afraid to rely on it and have it blow up in her face. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him seriously, and he looked offended that she would even question it.
“I’ve waited for you all my life, Stephanie. I’m not going to let you go now. Are you having doubts?” He looked hurt.
“No, but this is a very big deal if we both leave our marriages,” she said quietly.
“I want to, and I hope you do too,” he said, and she nodded as she listened to him.
“Then you have to give me some time. I have to tell Andy, and I want to find the right time to do it.”
“As soon as you get to San Francisco seems the right time to me,” he said quickly. “Then you can stay with me when I arrive two weeks later.” He was on a fast track, and she wasn’t quite there yet. She was passionately in love with him, but there would be a lot of practical details to work out and discuss with Andy, like custody of their two very young children, particularly if she moved to France. She knew that would break Andy’s heart. She could tell how hard it was for Bill from talking to him, and his girls were slightly older than Aden and Ryan. She couldn’t imagine flying them back and forth to France, at least for a few years, and in today’s world of security risks, it was a terrifying prospect to have them alone on a plane.
“I can’t just breeze in and out and stay at the hotel with you while you’re there,” she said pensively. “It would be putting it right in Andy’s face. We need to be more discreet than that.”
Gabriel thought about it for a minute. “Then maybe you should tell him after I leave. That way, you can stay with me at the hotel, and tell him you’re at the hospital, on call every night.” It was dishonest but would postpone an explosive announcement while Gabriel was there.
“Not for a month,” she said realistically. She had never lied to Andy before, and she didn’t like the idea of starting now. But she might have to, to some degree, to keep the peace until after Gabriel left. She didn’t want high drama and ugly scenes with Andy while Gabriel was in town. She wanted to avoid having her romance with Gabriel turn into a soap opera, a classic love triangle, with two small children in the middle. That sounded like a mess to her. She needed time to work it out. Gabriel turned to her then and slipped the robe she was wearing off her shoulders and put his lips to her breast. It distracted her from everything she’d been saying to him and he didn’t want to hear. A moment later, her dressing gown was on the floor, and he had her backed up against the wall making love to her, engulfed by passion, with her legs wrapped around him, and from there he carried her to the couch, and they forgot everything but each other. She couldn’t think clearly and didn’t want to, and then they went to bed and made love again. He was a powerful man and an extraordinary lover.
She brought up the subject of Andy again that afternoon when they went for a walk. She had thought about it and made a decision. “I’ll talk to him after you leave. If I do it before that, everything will be a mess for the month you’re there, but I can’t stay with you every night. I have to be with my children too. I’ll stay with you as often as I can.” It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best she could do. And th
ere was another subject they hadn’t resolved. “What am I going to do about work if I move here with you?” In two weeks, they had leapt far ahead down the road and were already dealing with big issues much sooner than they would have otherwise. “How would I practice medicine in France?” she asked practically. “I’m not going to medical school all over again here.”
“You wouldn’t have to. You would have to present your academic and work records, take a test, and you’d have to learn French, but it’s feasible eventually,” he reassured her, which came as a surprise to her. So she wouldn’t have to give up her career for him, just her marriage, which was a lot.
“And I could probably get you a consulting job while you wait to be certified.” But it would still be an enormous adjustment practicing in another country and starting all over again. She needed to think about that too, or she might resent him one day. She didn’t want that to happen, nor did he.
“Do you want more children?” he asked her. He hadn’t thought of asking her before. She was young enough to have several more if she wanted to, but she shook her head. They had six between them, which seemed like more than enough for her, although the prospect of more children didn’t frighten him, and appealed to him with her.
“I can hardly manage the two I have,” she said honestly, it wasn’t what she wanted. Her work was a big issue, and he wasn’t going to give up his career and move to San Francisco. He had an important government position and all the prestige that went with it, and a pension he would lose if he quit now. At forty-three he was on a serious trajectory. He no longer had a medical practice, but he had a very important job with public health, which she knew now was a big deal in France. So she would have to make the move for him, and all the changes and adjustments that went with it. She wasn’t refusing to do so, but she knew she had to give it serious thought, so it was a conscious decision, and not a mad impulse she’d regret.
Turning Point Page 14
