Juliette went to the waiting room to see if it was on the TV there, and she saw it, a burning ball of fire, and firemen everywhere. She hoped Sean was okay, as she felt her heart pound. It was the one miserable thing about his job—she was constantly worried about him, and he was always in the most dangerous places. She didn’t like it, but she knew how much he did. And she wandered in and out of the waiting room all night between patients to see what was happening, trying not to panic as she watched the fire get worse. A wide area had been cleared and hundreds of buildings evacuated in case of an explosion. She felt dizzy as she saw it on TV.
The fire was continuing to rage at five o’clock in the morning, and at six, the explosion they feared finally happened. The announcer said shortly afterward that several firefighters had been injured in the blast. It said nothing about the OES workers. It never did. They were the unsung heroes at every disaster in the city. She was seized by panic when she saw it on the news, and they both heard and felt the blast of the explosion at the hospital. Tears filled her eyes every time she sneaked into the waiting room to watch the TV. What if he died or got injured? She had never been as happy in her life or loved any man as she did him. Everything about him suited her to perfection, except that he risked his life every day. She felt sick until he finally called her after nine o’clock that morning. Two of the firefighters were in the ER by then, badly burned, waiting to be transferred to a burn unit, and she was breathless when she answered his call.
“Are you okay?” she asked when she heard his voice after hours of agony, praying for him. “I was worried about you all night. I saw it on TV.”
“I’m fine. It was nasty, and a lot of guys got hurt. It’s under control now. But I’ll probably be here all day.”
“I’m on until ten o’clock tonight,” she told him, feeling calmer than she had in many hours. She didn’t want to admit to him how terrified she had been.
“I’ll meet you at my place whenever I get home.” She had a key to his apartment, and spent all her nights off there. “See you later. I love you,” he said, and hung up, but she was relieved to have spoken to him and went back to work with a lighter heart. It was a crazy way to live.
When he came home that night, he was filthy and exhausted, but not too much to take a shower and make love to her. And then he fell asleep in her arms. She wondered sometimes how long she would be able to stand worrying about him all the time. What if he was one of the ones who got injured, or killed? But she couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, at least not for now, and neither could he. He needed to feel useful and know he was saving lives, which was what she did, but she was never at risk, and he always was. But at least he was safe, asleep next to her in his bed, and she couldn’t ask for more. The hurricane had blown him into her life, and she had no intention of letting go. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
—
Ellen and Grace put on jeans and old sweaters and were down at the hurricane victims’ shelter at noon on Thanksgiving. Bob met them there, and they were assigned to separate tables to serve food to the hundreds of people still living there. Bob was assigned to the crew carving the turkeys that had been donated, while the two women ladled the food onto plates, which the residents accepted gratefully. Bob had finished his book at six o’clock that morning, and looked exhausted but thrilled.
The three of them put in a seven-hour shift, working nonstop, and arrived at Jim’s apartment just before eight, filthy and tired, smelling of food, but looking pleased. Jim was filled with admiration for them, as his staff served an exquisitely prepared meal. One of the most famous chefs in the city was in his kitchen.
And over dinner, Jim mentioned a benefit he’d heard about being organized for hurricane relief. It was a gala event being scheduled in the coming months, and Ellen and Grace both said they’d like to volunteer for one of the organizing committees, and Bob and Jim said they might too.
After that, Grace commented that progress in her apartment was moving slowly—there were so many jobs under way downtown that it was hard to hang on to construction crews for long, and they were spreading themselves too thin. She was beginning to think it might even take a year to complete the work. And Bob said he hadn’t sold his apartment yet. No one wanted to live on the river in Zone 1. Except Grace.
The Thanksgiving meal the chef had prepared was delicious, and they toasted Bob for the book he’d finished. His current one was still on the best-seller lists, and this one would be too when it came out. It was always a given with him, despite his modesty about it.
He mentioned then that he was going to L.A. the following week to check on his latest movie deal and work out some details. They were casting and wanted input from him on that and the screenplay. He wasn’t writing it, but had approval of the final script, as he always did, thanks to Jim’s negotiation of the contract. And Bob was going to see his kids while he was there.
“They’re coming here for Christmas,” he said quietly. “I’d like you to meet them,” he mentioned casually to Ellen, which Grace found interesting. She had never met them when they visited him in Tribeca. Ellen knew that they were in their mid-twenties, building and busy with their careers, and that Bob had had them when he was very young. And he had told her how proud he was of what they were doing and how hard they worked. His son had a good job and was on a career path as an assistant director, and his daughter was an entertainment lawyer at an important law firm, and had been since she graduated from law school at UCLA. “They’ll be here for a week,” he added, and would be staying at Jim’s too.
“I’m going to London this week,” Ellen told them. “I have to see some clients, and my attorney.” They were filing the papers for the divorce, in response to George, who seemed to be in a rush.
“Will it all be unpleasant on this trip?” Bob asked with concern.
“Some of it, probably. But it’ll be nice seeing my clients.”
“Will you have to see George?” He was sympathetic.
“I don’t think so. I hope not.” But it would be strange. It would be her first trip to London staying at a hotel, and not at her home. They had had an offer on the house the week before, but George’s attorney had communicated that he didn’t think it was enough, and he wanted to hold out for a better offer. Ellen was in no hurry to sell, so she didn’t care if they waited, and she had agreed.
“How long will you be gone?” Bob asked her.
“About a week.” She smiled at him.
“Let’s have dinner when you get back, now that I’ve finished the book. I’ll be back from L.A. by then too. I’m only going out for a few days, since the kids are coming here for Christmas in a few weeks.”
“I’d love that.” They exchanged a warm look as she said it.
“And what about us?” Jim asked Grace in a moment alone after dinner. “Are we going to Miami?” He was, but Grace hadn’t decided yet, and was still on the fence about it.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind separate rooms?” she asked cautiously. “I’d be happy to pay for mine,” she offered, and he smiled at her.
“I invited you. And I don’t mind separate rooms if that would make you more comfortable.” He had already agreed to it before, and she had told him that she hadn’t traveled with a man for a long time, and didn’t want to feel pressured into a potentially awkward situation. Jim understood her concerns.
“Then I’ll come,” she said with a shy glance at him, and he beamed at her, and held her hand for a minute, and then they joined the others again. They all had travel plans in the coming days, and Ellen said she wanted to have them all to dinner when they returned. The two men hadn’t seen her apartment yet and said they were looking forward to it. And they’d have a lot to talk about when they returned. Bob’s movie, Ellen’s trip to London, and Jim and Grace’s trip to Art Basel. They were all embarking on adventures and would have much to share. And then they went back to talking about the benefit, and hoped to share working on that too.
When Ellen got to London, she took a cab from Heathrow to the hotel near her office, where Phillippa had made a reservation for her again. She had stayed there on her last two nights in London, and now it would be her home away from home. It seemed comfortable and the room looked pleasant enough when she dropped off her bag, and then she walked to her office in Knightsbridge, near Sloane Street. It felt very strange to be there and not go home, but she got busy with the projects waiting for her, and she had meetings with clients for the next several days, and an installation to oversee at the end of the week. And as always, Phillippa was a big help.
Ellen met with her attorney too, and she signed some papers they needed. George was offering her a settlement, which she had told her attorney she didn’t want. She made a decent living and could support herself. She didn’t feel right taking money from him. The marriage hadn’t worked out, there was no amount he could pay her for the disappointment, or the betrayal, for cheating on her and not giving her a chance to do things differently or make it work better for him. How did you pay for that? What price could you put on it? She said as much to her attorney, and he relayed it to George’s lawyer. And she was surprised when George called her that night. He called from a blocked number, but she recognized his voice immediately, and she assumed the blocked number was Annabelle’s.
“Why won’t you at least let me give you some money? No one is as rich as all that, unless you’ve been holding out on me.” She hadn’t been the one keeping secrets.
“Because you can’t make up for what you did with money, George. Why should I let you buy off your conscience at my expense? There’s no price on my heart.” He was silent for a minute after she said it. She wasn’t letting him off the hook, and felt better about it.
“I’m sorry, Ellen. I know it was wrong.”
“I’m sorry I let the IVF go on for so long. You should have said something.”
“I wanted to, but I knew how much it meant to you.”
“So you cheated on me instead.” It was hard to justify that.
“Not for the first few years,” he said defensively.
“That’s big of you. And you made a fool of me with our friends.” She never wanted to see any of them again, and there was no chance of it now anyway, with Annabelle firmly ensconced at his side. She had lost an entire world, and a life, not just him.
“Will you be all right?” he asked her, sounding worried about her for the first time.
“Do I have a choice?” He knew that she had to face her inability to have a child as well as losing him—it was a doubly hard hit that way—but there would never have been a good time, and he wanted to have a life too. “Yes, I’ll be all right,” she said with a sigh.
“I miss you,” he said, which seemed cruel.
“I miss you too,” she said sadly. “You should have thought of that before.”
“It’s different with Annabelle. She’s not as bright as you are. I hope we see each other again,” he said mournfully. “I miss talking to you.”
“Why? You said yourself there’s nothing left. It’s dead.” And he had killed it for her with everything he’d said to her at the end.
“We could be friends,” he said hopefully.
“No, we can’t. We’re not friends.” What he had done wasn’t friendly or respectful or loving. “We were married, and you cheated on me, for a long time. I loved you, but I’m not your friend.” It was the most honest she had ever been with him. She had nothing to lose now. And she had cut him to the quick with what she said.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he wanted to know.
“That’s none of your business. But no, I’m not.”
“Do you think you will?”
“No, I’m going to become a Carmelite nun.” There was silence for an instant, she heard him gasp, and then he laughed.
“You always made me laugh.”
“Apparently not enough,” she said tartly.
“It got so intense with the baby issue. It took all the joy out of everything we did.” She couldn’t disagree with him. It had been miserable failing again and again.
“I thought it would be worth it in the end, if we succeeded. I was wrong. It was too high a price to pay, and worse because we didn’t win. At least you can have children now.” She felt bitter when she thought about it. She never would, since the problem was hers.
“I’m fine as I am. It was never the heartbreak for me it was for you. Maybe you should adopt one day.” His not wanting to adopt had been all about his lineage and bloodlines, and she had followed him on that. She didn’t want to discuss it with him. It was no longer relevant between them, and it was still painful for her.
“Well, let me know how you are from time to time,” he said. She didn’t answer, and she had no intention of doing so. It was strange to stop speaking to someone you had loved and been married to for ten years. But the whole concept of divorce seemed strange to her, of just canceling someone out of your life. And since he had done it, she preferred to make a clean break, and wanted to. Why should she satisfy his curiosity, or have him justify what he did? There was nothing left to say.
“Thank you for the settlement offer,” she said politely. She wanted to get off the phone—they had talked long enough. And she wasn’t going to indulge his maudlin need to cry over what had happened, or tell her how much he missed her, or how she’d made him laugh. He had to live with what he’d done now, without her help or sympathy. She didn’t feel sorry for him. She didn’t need to. He felt sorry for himself, which seemed pathetic to her.
“I love you, Ellen,” he whispered into the phone as they were about to hang up. “I always will.” She thought it was disgusting and self-serving of him to say that to her, and she felt a door slam in her heart when he did. She had lost all respect for him in the end. It would make it easier to be free of him.
“Goodbye, George,” she said coldly, and hung up. And she wanted to scream when she did. Why tell her he loved her now, when he was divorcing her and marrying someone else? What good would that do any of them? None at all. She tried to put him out of her head and went to bed early that night, and woke up surprisingly refreshed the next morning. She wondered if his appalling performance on the phone the night before would cure her of him forever. She hoped so. She suddenly felt very little for him now when she thought about him, except revulsion. And her lawyer called her again later that morning to tell her that George had withdrawn his settlement offer and was giving her the entire house instead, and relinquishing his share. She thought about it for a minute, and nodded.
“Thank you, I’ll take it,” she told the attorney. For some reason, having the house seemed just. It had been her house as much as his, and if he wanted to give it to her now, so be it. She would sell it for a decent price, and buy another house with the money one day, but not yet. She still didn’t know for sure where she wanted to live long term. Maybe New York, or Europe, or somewhere else. She could do whatever she wanted to. She answered to no one now, except herself. She wondered if he had done her a favor in the end.
She finished all her business in London in five days. She had dinner with Phillippa the night before she left and took her to Harry’s Bar for a fancy evening and good meal. They had covered all the business that day at work, and could enjoy each other’s company before she left. And she told her about George giving her the house.
“That was generous of him.” Phillippa was surprised. But it didn’t change what she thought of him as a human being.
“Not when you consider what he did,” Ellen answered coldly, and Phillippa nodded in agreement.
Ellen didn’t have time to call Charles this time, but hoped he and Gina were doing well. She was planning to call him the next time she was in town, in a month or two, and maybe have lunch with him. She had a warm spot in her heart for him after what they’d been through together in the hurricane, and she wished him well.
—
The flight back to New
York was uneventful, and she called her mother the night she got in. She knew that they were back from Miami, and Grace said it had been fabulous and fascinating and the art had been amazing.
“Did you have a good time, Mom?” Ellen questioned her pointedly, curious about how the separate rooms had worked out.
“Yes, I did,” Grace said emphatically, then seemed flustered for a minute.
“Should I be shocked or happy for you?” Ellen asked her, and her mother giggled guiltily.
“You shouldn’t ask questions like that. We had separate rooms—that’s all you need to know.” But she sounded like a happy woman, and whatever had happened in Miami had obviously gone well, and Ellen was pleased for her. She deserved to have a man in her life who loved her and treated her well. No one was too old for that.
“George gave me his share of the house, by the way.”
“Good heavens, that’s quite a gift.” She knew what they had paid for it.
“I turned down his settlement offer, and he sounds like he’s feeling guilty, or sentimental or something. I’m sad to say I don’t feel that way. But I accepted it.”
“Try not to get bitter about it. It will only hurt you in the end. It happened, you have to put it behind you now. If you dwell on it, it will poison you more than him. Let him live with it now. You’re free of him, and it might prove to be a blessing in the end, hard as it is to believe now.”
“It isn’t.” The only thing she knew she would regret forever was not having children. Not having George in her life was a different story, given what he had done to her. “I’ll see you this weekend, Mom, if you’re not busy. I have to organize that dinner I promised to do.”
“I’m seeing a client this week who has a proposition to make me,” Grace said mysteriously.
“Another one?” Ellen teased, referring to her recent romantic adventure in Miami.
“Stop that. I’m your mother,” Grace laughed again.
“I’m not the one who went to Miami with her boyfriend,” Ellen reminded her.
Rushing Waters Page 22
