“That's all I want from you. And if you don't give it to me, Santa is going to put coal in your stocking, or reindeer poop.” Sometimes he wondered if she was right and he was overreacting. She was very persuasive, but he still wasn't convinced. She laughed at what he said then, unaware of the fact that he already had her gift wrapped and put away, and had for quite a while. He hoped she liked it. And with Ophélie's permission, he had bought Pip a beautiful new bicycle that she could use in the park in town, and at the beach when she came to see him. He was pleased, because it was kind of a fatherly gift, something her mother wouldn't have thought to give her. Ophélie had been shopping for clothes and games for her for weeks. She was at a tough age, somewhere between toys, which she had outgrown, and big girl gifts, which she was only now growing into. At twelve, she was exactly in between. He had hidden the bike in his garage at the beach, under a sheet, and Ophélie had assured him she'd be thrilled.
The one gift Matt didn't want was the one he got the week before Christmas. A call from Sally telling him she was arriving the next day, with Vanessa, and her two youngest kids. Hamish's four children were with their mother for the holidays, and she had decided to come to San Francisco, as she put it, “to see him.” All he wanted was to see his daughter, which he was wildly excited about, but not his ex-wife. They were planning to stay at the Ritz. And he called to complain to Ophélie about it, the minute he hung up. She was getting ready to go out with the outreach team.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” he said, sounding irritated. “I'm not going to see her. All I want is to see Nessie. The good news is she's coming to Tahoe with me. Nessie, not Sally,” he corrected, but Ophélie was concerned anyway, and didn't want to let on to him that she was. She was far too attached to Matt by now, not to be affected by the specter of his exwife. What if he fell in love with her again? If he had before, perhaps he could again, in spite of everything she'd done. She had just been relaxing about her, but Sally's impending arrival set her on edge suddenly. She had a sixth sense that he would see her, and doing so would stir up old feelings for him. Men were naïve about such things, and it was obvious from Sally's insistence on seeing him, that she had something up her sleeve. Ophélie tried as delicately as she could to warn him of it.
“Sally? Don't be ridiculous. That's dead and gone. She's just bored and doesn't know what to do with herself. She's trying to decide what to do with her business. Ophélie, you have nothing to worry about. I'm well out of that, and have been for ten years.” He sounded remarkably blithe about it, but all of Ophélie's female antennae were on high alert.
“Stranger things have happened,” she warned wisely.
“Not to me. It's been over for me for years, and longer than that for her. She left me, remember. For a guy with more money and more toys,” he said, still smarting from the blow.
“Now she's got the money, and he's gone. And she's scared and lonely. Trust me. You haven't heard the last of her.” But Matt violently disagreed. Until she got to the Ritz, and called him an hour after she did. Her voice was all honey and sweetness, and she asked him if he'd like to come to tea. She said she was exhausted from the flight, and looked a mess, but she was dying to see him. He was so startled, he wasn't sure what to say.
Ophélie's warnings immediately came to mind, but he dismissed them out of hand. She was just trying to be friendly, for old times' sake, but even that didn't appeal to him. Far from it, after she'd stolen his kids from him. His rational mind hated her, but there were other parts of him, which responded instinctively to memory. It was Pavlovian and irritated him at himself as much as her. It was her way of torturing him, to see if she could still pull the old familiar strings.
“Where's Nessie?” he asked bluntly, desperate to see her, and not Sally. All he wanted was to see his daughter, as soon as he could.
“She's here,” Sally said coyly. “She's tired too.”
“Tell her she can sleep later. I'll be in the lobby in an hour. Tell her to be there.” He was so excited he nearly hung up on Sally, and she promised to convey the message to Vanessa, who was thrilled too, when she did.
He showered, shaved, changed, and was wearing a blazer and gray slacks and looking very handsome as he came through the doors into the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, and he looked around anxiously. What if he didn't recognize her? If she had changed too much… if… and then he saw her standing there like a young doe, with the same face she had had as a little girl, a woman's body, and long straight blond hair, and they were both crying as they fell into each other's arms. She buried her face in his neck, and kissed him, and touched his face as he held her. The cruelty of their long separation was apparent in the hunger with which they held each other. He never wanted to let her out of his arms again, and he had to force himself to let go of her just so he could see her. And as he looked at her lovingly, they were both laughing through their tears.
“Oh Daddy… you look the same… you haven't changed at all …” She couldn't stop crying and laughing and he had never seen anyone as beautiful as his youngest child. It almost ripped his heart out of his chest just looking at her, and made him realize how agonizing her long absence from his life had been. Everything he had forced himself not to feel for six years came rushing back at him.
“Well, you sure have changed! Wow!” She had a spectacular figure, just as her mother had as a young girl. Vanessa was wearing a short gray dress and high heels, and just enough makeup to look glamorous but not vulgar, and she had tiny diamond studs at her ears, a gift from Hamish probably, he knew. He had always been generous with Matt's kids. “What do you want to do? Have some tea? Or go somewhere?” All he wanted was to be with her.
Vanessa seemed to hesitate for an instant, and then he saw them in the distance behind her. He had been completely unaware of anyone else from the moment he laid eyes on her. But Sally was standing halfway across the lobby, with a woman who looked like a nanny and two little boys. The years had been kind to her, she was still a good-looking woman, although slightly heavier than she had been in the past. And the boys were cute. They were six and eight. But instead of leaving Vanessa alone with him after all this time, she had intruded on them, which was exactly what Matt didn't want, and he was instantly annoyed as she approached, and Vanessa looked daggers at her. Sally was wearing a short black dress, expensive, sexy shoes, and a mink coat, and the diamonds on her ears were a lot bigger than Vanessa's were, another gift from her late husband undoubtedly.
“I'm sorry, Matt, I hope you don't mind…I couldn't resist… and I wanted you to meet the boys.” The last time he had seen them, in Auckland, they had been two and a few months old. And no matter how cute they were, he wanted to be with his own child now, and not Sally and her kids. She had done enough to him. All he wanted now was for her to let go and disappear.
Matt said hello to the boys, with a warm smile, and ruffled their hair, and nodded politely to the nanny. It wasn't the kids' fault that their mother was inappropriate, but he wanted to be clear with her.
“I think Vanessa and I would like to be alone for a little while. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Of course, I understand,” she said breezily, and didn't. She couldn't have cared less what anyone else needed, especially him. And she totally ignored Vanessa's obvious fury at her. She still hadn't forgiven her mother for keeping Matt away for six years, and swore she never would. “I promised the boys we'd run down to Macy's and see Santa Claus, and maybe stop in at Schwarz. I thought maybe we could all have dinner tomorrow night, if you're free,” she said with the smile that had dazzled him from the first time they met, but no more. He knew that behind the smile lived a shark, he had been too deeply bitten by her to fall for it. But she played a great game. Anyone else would have thought her charming and poised, and friendly to him. And whatever she wanted from him, he no longer gave a damn.
“I'll let you know,” he said vaguely, and firmly led Vanessa away from them to the portion of the lobby set up to s
erve tea. A moment later, he saw Sally, the nanny, and the boys sweep through the revolving door to a waiting limousine. She was a rich woman now, even richer than she had been. But from his perspective, it didn't add to her charm. Nothing would. She had everything one could want, looks, talent, brains, style, everything, except a heart.
“I'm sorry about everything, Dad,” Vanessa said quietly, as they sat down. She understood, and admired her father a lot for the gracious way he handled it. She had talked to her brother at length about what had happened, and she was far less willing to forgive than Robert, who always made excuses for their mother and said she didn't understand her effect on people. But Vanessa hated her with all the energy of a girl of sixteen, and with good cause in this case. “I hate her, Dad,” she said bluntly to her father, and he didn't disagree with her, but he didn't want to fuel the fires, or encourage her to hate her own mother. He tried to be somewhat discreet for Vanessa's sake. But there was no dressing it up, or explaining it. She had kept them from their father, for her own purposes, for six years. Almost half a lifetime for them, and it felt like more than that to him. And all they wanted to do was catch up with him now. “You don't have to have dinner with her tomorrow. I just want to be with you.” Vanessa understood all of it, and was wise for her sixteen years. She'd been through a lot too.
“I'd rather be with you,” he said honestly. “I don't want a battle with your mother, but I'm not dying to be best friends either.” It was remarkable enough that he was willing to be civil to her, and a tribute to him.
“It's okay, Dad.”
They sat and talked for three hours in the lobby of the Ritz. He explained to her again what she already knew, how their six years of separation had happened. And then he went on to ask about her, her friends, her school, her life, her dreams. He loved being with her, and was soaking it all in. She and Robert were going to be spending Christmas in Tahoe with him, without their mother. Sally was going to New York to see friends with her two youngest children. She seemed to have nowhere to go now, and was searching for something. If he hadn't disliked her so much, he would have felt sorry for her.
Sally called him again the next day, about dinner, and she tried to convince him to join them. But he was patiently resistant, and instead talked about Vanessa, and sang her praises.
“You did a great job with her. She's wonderful,” he said generously.
“She's a good girl,” Sally agreed. She said she was going to be around for the next four days, and Matt was anxious for her to leave town. He had no desire to see her. “What about you, Matt? How's your life?” It was a subject he emphatically did not want to discuss with her.
“Fine, thanks. I'm sorry about Hamish. That's going to be a big change for you. Are you going to stay in Auckland?” He wanted to keep their conversations to business, houses, and his children. But she didn't.
“I have no idea. I've decided to sell the business. I'm tired, Matt. It's time to stop and smell the roses.” It was a nice thought, but knowing Sally she was far more likely to crush them, and set fire to the petals. He'd been there.
“That sounds sensible.” He kept his responses curt and unemotional. He had no intention of lowering the drawbridge, and hoped the alligators in the moat would devour her if she tried to take the castle.
“I gather you're still painting, you have so damn much talent,” she said lavishly. And then she seemed to hesitate for a moment, and sounded childish and sad when she spoke again. It was a tactic she used that he had nearly forgotten, to get what she wanted. “Matt …” she hesitated, but only for an instant, “would you hate having dinner with me tonight? I don't want anything from you. I just want to bury the hatchet.” She had already done that, he knew, in his back, years before, and it had stayed there, festering and rusting. Removing it now would only make matters worse, and cause him to bleed to death in the process.
“It's a nice thought,” he said, sounding tired. She exhausted him. She had so many agendas. “But I don't think dinner is a good idea. There's no point. Let sleeping dogs lie. We don't really have anything to say to each other.”
“How about I'm sorry? I owe you a lot of those, don't I?” She was speaking softly and she sounded so vulnerable it nearly killed him. He wanted to scream at her not to do that. It was too easy to remember all that she had once been to him, and too hard, all at the same time. He just couldn't. It would kill him.
“You don't have to say anything, Sally,” he said, sounding like the husband he had once been to her, the man she had known and loved, and whom she had nearly destroyed. Whatever had happened in between, they were still the same people, and they both remembered, the good times as well as the bad ones. “It's all behind us.”
“I just want to see you. Maybe we can be friends again,” she said, sounding hopeful.
“Why? We have friends. We don't need each other.”
“We have two children. Maybe it's important for them that we establish a bond again.” Amazingly, that hadn't occurred to her for the past six years. Only now. That it suited her current purpose, whatever that was. Whatever it was, Matt knew it would be good for her, and surely not for him. Her intrinsic narcissism always controlled her. It was all about her needs, and no one else's.
“I don't know …” He hesitated. “I don't see the point.”
“Forgiveness. Humanity. Compassion. We were married for fifteen years. Can't we be friends now?”
“Is it too rude to remind you that you left me for one of my best friends, moved thousands of miles away with my children, and haven't allowed me to have contact with them for the past six years? That's a lot to swallow, even between ‘friends,’ as you put it. Just how friendly is that?”
“I know…I know… I've made a lot of mistakes,” she said sweepingly, and then she put on the voice of the confessional, which was exactly what he didn't want with her. “If it's any consolation, Hamish and I were never happy. There were a lot of problems.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” he said, feeling a chill run through him. “I always had the impression that you were very happy. He was very generous with you, and your children.” And he was basically a good guy. Until he ran off with Sally, Matt had always liked him.
“Generous, yes. But he never really ‘got it.’ Not like you did. He was kind of a good-time guy, and he drank like a fish, which finally killed him,” she said unsympathetically. “We had no sex life.”
“Sally, please… for chrissake. I don't want to know that.” Matt sounded horrified and grim.
“Sorry, I forgot what a prude you are.” Socially perhaps, but never in the bedroom. And she knew that about him. She had missed him. Hamish told the filthiest jokes on the planet, and loved looking at lots of tits and ass, but he was just as happy going to bed with a porn video and a bottle as with her.
“Why don't we just stop here? There's no point in this. You can't run the film backward. It's all over. It's done. End of story.”
“It's not done. It never was. And you know it.” She had hit a nerve that was so raw, it still made him jump. It was what he had been hiding from for a decade. No matter what had happened or how bad it had been, he had always loved her. And she knew it. She could sense it still. She was a shark with a radar screen, and unfailing instincts.
“I don't care. It's over,” he said gruffly. And the tone of his voice, almost hoarse, shot the same chemicals through her, it always had. She had never gotten over him either. She had cut it off, sliced their life away like a limb she no longer wanted, but all the nerves around the stump were still raw and throbbing and alive.
“Don't have dinner with me. Have a drink. Just see me, for God's sake. What difference does it make? Why can't you do that?” Because he didn't want to hurt anymore, he reminded himself, but he felt an irresistible pull toward her and hated himself for it.
“I saw you yesterday, in the lobby.”
“No, you didn't. You saw Hamish's widow, his two kids, and your daughter.”
“That's who
you are, isn't it?” he said miserably, not wanting a different answer from her.
“No, it isn't. Not to you, Matt.” The silence between them was deafening, and he groaned. She made him feel insane. She always had. Even after she left him. She could always do that to him. She knew where all the chords were, and the raw nerves, and she loved playing with all of them.
“All right, all right. Half an hour. No more. I'll see you. We'll bury the hatchet, declare ourselves friends, and then for God's sake, get the hell out of my life before you drive me crazy.” She had done it. She had gotten to him. She always did. It was the nemesis of his life. The purgatory he'd been living in, and that she'd condemned him to when she left him.
“Thank you, Matt,” she said softly. “Six o'clock tomorrow? Come to the suite. It'll be quiet and we can talk.”
“I'll see you then,” he said coldly, furious that he had given in to her. And all she could do was pray that in the next twenty-four hours, he wouldn't cancel. She knew that if she saw him, even for half an hour, everything might change. And the worst of it was that, as he hung up the phone, Matt knew it too.
24
MATT DROVE INTO TOWN AT FIVE O'CLOCK THE NEXT day, and arrived fifteen minutes early. He walked around the lobby, looking like he was stalking it, and at precisely six o'clock he was standing outside her suite, and rang the bell. He hadn't wanted to be there, but he knew that once and for all, he had to confront this. If he didn't, it would haunt him forever.
She opened the door looking serious and elegant in a black suit, black stockings, high heels, and her long blond hair was as beautiful as her daughter's. She was still a spectacular-looking woman.
Safe Harbour Page 27
