First Sight

by Danielle Steel

  He got back to Paris with Julianne on the twenty-fifth of September, and Timmie made another reservation. She didn’t care about the Eiffel Tower anymore. He could meet her at the Plaza Athénée, or anywhere he wanted. She just wanted to see him, and she told him so. And then he called the night he got back to tell her that Sophie said she would never see or speak to him again if he left the house for good and moved out, and his wife was having an adverse reaction to radiation. He sounded near tears when he called her, and Timmie sat staring into space, holding the phone, with a blank expression. She had heard it all by now, teenage tantrums, cancer, chemo, radiation, broken legs, car accidents, head injuries, what was left? A sick dog maybe, or the maid quitting, or their house burning to the ground and he had to stick around to rebuild it with his bare hands. How much longer did he expect her to wait for him, while he went nowhere? He obviously needed more to get out of his house and marriage than a woman who loved him. She was glad she hadn’t told him about the baby, and it probably wouldn’t have made any difference to him anyway. He was trapped there forever. She could see that now. All that remained was for her to have the guts to get up and leave him. And there was nothing to leave anyway. She hadn’t seen him in over five months, and probably never would again. It was up to her now to do what he apparently couldn’t, end it. He was giving her no other choice. She couldn’t sit there like a fool forever, with his baby in her belly, believing he was coming back to her. Clearly, he wasn’t. She wanted to believe him, but couldn’t anymore. There were a thousand excuses, a million excellent reasons for him to stay right where he was forever. He was nothing more than an illusion, and a voice on her cell phone. He was a promise that was never going to happen, and she knew it now. Jade had been right all along, and had told her, warned her. She didn’t want to listen, but it was all too clear to her now. She listened to what he was saying, with tears rolling down her face. They were tears of both sadness and anger, and as he pleaded with her to be reasonable, she snapped at him.

  “What do you want from me? What am I supposed to do? I’ve been waiting for you for almost six months. I haven’t seen you. I waited through your wife’s cancer, and Julianne’s accident. Now Sophie’s threatening you, and your wife is having a reaction to radiation. You haven’t moved out yet. We started in February. You asked me to wait till June. I did. Then September. Now it’s almost October. And you need more time. If you wanted to get out, you would. You could be dealing with all of this from an apartment. You don’t have to be living with them to be playing Red Cross to them night and day. You haven’t even seen me since April, Jean-Charles.” She almost slipped and mentioned their baby, and then caught herself in time. “I feel like a fool. I’m not even your mistress. I’m just someone you call, while you go on living with your family. Maybe you’re embarrassed to tell me it’s over. I guess it’s been over for months anyway. You didn’t have the balls to say it, and I didn’t have the balls to hear it. It doesn’t matter. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as I do you. But I’m not going to play this game anymore. You don’t need to come up with any more excuses. They can stop having accidents, and catching diseases. Sophie doesn’t need to threaten to throw herself off the roof. I’m done.” She was sobbing by then, and so hysterical she could hardly speak, and at his end, he was utterly stunned. He had always been afraid of losing her, but now he was shocked that she was telling him it was over. He just wanted a little more time, to solve a few more of their problems, and leave them in good shape when he finally left. Why couldn’t she understand that? Unless she didn’t love him. He was as upset as she was, and then she delivered the lethal blow. She wanted to be sure that if he heard about her baby, he wouldn’t think it was his. It was over for her. She was never going to tell him the baby was his. And the only way to do that was to tell him it was someone else’s, so she did, in so many words. “It doesn’t matter, Jean-Charles,” she said coldly. She forced herself to say the words, burning her last bridge behind her, so she couldn’t go back to him. She wanted no more hope or promises from him. She knew now there were none. She didn’t even know if he really loved her, and clearly not enough to leave his marriage for her anyway, a marriage he had claimed had been dead for years before she came along. Apparently, not as dead as he said, since he was still in it, and she was alone, carrying their baby. She was ending it with him now forever. She knew he’d never leave his home. He would have dragged it out forever. It was over. She knew it. And this time, she wasn’t going to be abandoned again. She was walking out first. Head held high, no matter how heartbroken she was. “I’ve been seeing someone else anyway,” she added, like a final lethal bomb she threw at him and everything they’d built for eight months. “Actually, I’ve been seeing him since April,” she said, and winced as she heard a gasp at the other end of the phone. Her bomb had hit its mark, but it had to be. If there was someone else, and had been for that long, he’d know the baby wasn’t his, if he ever heard about it, and he would. She’d be all over the papers and magazines when she had it. Timmie O having a baby as a single mom would be big news. So she was protecting herself from him now. She had to do it, no matter how much it hurt both of them, and it did.

  “I see. I had no idea,” he said with a shaking voice. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have actually been trying to get out of this mess to be with you. I had no idea my wife would get cancer, or my daughter would be stupid enough to ride in a car in Italy with her boyfriend who was drunk, or even that my wife would have a reaction to radiation. And Sophie would have gotten over being angry with me, given a little time. You should have been honest with me that you were seeing someone, Timmie. It would have been nice. I guess Hollywood morals are different than mine. I would have had the decency to tell you if I had done something like that. I’ve been in love with you all this time, and the only reason I agreed not to see you this summer was so that I didn’t drag you through this mess and drive you insane, while I tried to leave honestly and gracefully, and I’m very sorry I took longer to do it than I said I would. Sometimes things just take more time. I was doing my best,” he said, as tears rolled down his cheeks too. “And I love you. Honestly. I had no idea that if I didn’t move fast enough, you’d be sleeping with someone else. How long did you wait? A week? Two? I saw you in April, you must have started with this other person immediately. Not very nice of you,” he said sadly. He sounded as though she had run a knife through his heart, and she had. But his constant excuses had done the same to her. It had become an imaginary romance with an invisible person, and she could only hold on for so long. Even if well meaning, he hadn’t been fair to her. And now she had been intentionally cruel to him. There was fault on both sides, and immeasurable pain. Now there would also be a baby that he knew nothing about, with no father. Three people had gotten injured in this game.

  “You never moved out when you said you would,” she said hoarsely.

  “I didn’t have time to. I was planning to see three apartments next week, with you. Or whenever we got together,” he said miserably.

  “It would never have happened,” she said. “You think it would. Maybe you believed it. But you would have come up with another thousand excuses to stay.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would have. I don’t know anymore, Timmie. I’m sorry … good luck. I hope your other person brings you happiness. I want you to know that I loved you with my whole heart. I’ve never loved anyone as I did you, while you were playing around with someone else.” He sounded devastated more than bitter, and she had said what she did to protect herself and her baby, even if it hurt him. He had no right now to know the baby was his after he never saw her again, and perhaps never would have. The baby was no longer his or theirs, it was hers. She wanted no pity from him. She would take care of it by herself. And if the child wanted to know who its father was one day, she would tell it, and he could decide what to do then. She was going to tell their child that its father had been a wonderful, honest, decent, loving man, whom she had l
oved more than life itself. And whom she had fallen in love with at first sight one day in Paris. It was the best she could do now. There was nothing else left to say.

  “Take care. I love you,” she said softly, and then hung up, feeling guilty for having hurt him and lied to him about the baby. But she felt she had no other choice. She would have waited for him forever and never seen him again. And one day he would have told her it was over, and he couldn’t leave his wife or children. The handwriting was on the wall, and she had finally had the guts to read what it said and walk away.

  She thought it would kill her losing him. She went to bed and cried for four days. She didn’t go to her office or take calls from them. She didn’t answer her cell phone when Jean-Charles called, which she saw he did three times. She looked like death when she finally went back to work. She said absolutely nothing to David or Jade. They were all leaving for New York, Milan, and Paris in two weeks, and she had a mountain of work to catch up on, after being at home for nearly a week.

  There was a heat wave in Los Angeles that week, and their air conditioning broke. The office was stifling, in spite of the few windows they could open. And Timmie couldn’t stand it anymore. She finally took off her big loose French smock that had become a uniform for her, almost like a burka, and she walked around her office in a T-shirt and jeans, with her belly sticking out. She was six months pregnant, and Jade stopped dead in her tracks and pointed when she saw her. Timmie would have laughed at her expression if she weren’t still so devastated over Jean-Charles and the end of their relationship. In fact, it had ended in April when she conceived their baby, which was the last time she saw him. The rest had been just a string of excuses, lost hopes, broken dreams, and maybe even lies. She no longer knew, but she still cared, very much.

  “What’s that?” Jade asked, as she stared at her in disbelief.

  “What’s your best guess?” Timmie asked her with a sad smile, as David walked in and stared at her too. Her stomach looked enormous, and there was no hiding it now. Nor did she want to. It was time to come out of the closet, at least with them, if not the world. Yet. Eventually she’d have no choice, and couldn’t hide it anymore. She was still hoping to keep it a secret through the ready to wear shows, to avoid gossip in the press.

  “Oh my God!” David said, looking shocked. “Does he know?” There was no question whose it was, for any of them, and of course they were right. Timmie shook her head.

  “No, he doesn’t. And I don’t want him to. I’m not going to be some pathetic woman he doesn’t want, who had his baby. I deserve better than that. I was going to tell him when I saw him, but I never did. The last time he called with the new list of excuses as to why he couldn’t see me, I told him I’ve been seeing someone else since April. If he reads about it, I don’t want him to know that it’s his.”

  “Why did you do this?” Jade asked her, looking horrified. She wasn’t sure she wanted children, and surely not at Timmie’s age, with a married man she was never going to see again. Jade couldn’t think of anything worse.

  “I’m having it because I love him,” she said simply, “even if I never see him again, and he doesn’t know. I loved him enough to want his baby. That doesn’t change, just because he doesn’t have the balls to leave his wife. And I did it because of Mark. I buried one child. I couldn’t give up another one. This one is a gift. I’m keeping the gift, even if Jean-Charles is gone for good,” she said as she wiped her eyes, and David gave her a hug.

  “You have a lot of guts, Timmie,” he said gently. He had always known that about her, and he was touched. “I think he should know. It’s his kid too. I honestly think he loves you. It just took him longer to get out than it should have.” He was willing to concede that, but not much more.

  “Bullshit,” Jade snapped. “He was never going to leave his wife. They never do.”

  “Some do,” David said staunchly. But he had written her the check on their bet anyway. And she had bought the Chanel bag she wanted. She was wearing it every day. David was sorrier than ever that she had won. For Timmie’s sake, not his own.

  He gave her another hug, and they went back to their offices. Timmie went back to work at her desk. She had three more months till the baby was born. And an entire life to live without Jean-Charles. She couldn’t imagine it. She knew she would never love anyone again as she had him, nor wanted to. He truly had been the love of her life. And now he was gone for good. It was her worst nightmare come true.

  Chapter 22

  For the two weeks before they left for Paris for the ready to wear shows, their offices were painfully quiet. Timmie rarely spoke, and they tiptoed around her. She worked late, kept her office door closed, and her houses felt like tombs. She went to Malibu once and couldn’t stand it. She went to St. Cecilia’s and told Sister Anne what had happened, and she told Timmie she would continue to pray for a happy resolution, and reminded her she had the baby to look forward to, which was beginning to seriously show. The nuns were excited for her, and the children patted her belly. They asked if the baby had a daddy, and she said it didn’t, just like many of them, and they thought that was okay. Sister Anne hugged her when she left and said she’d be praying for her.

  Timmie looked at her sadly and said it was too late for that, for Jean-Charles anyway.

  “It’s never too late for prayer,” Sister Anne said cheerfully. Timmie just shook her head as she left.

  She had Jade get a bunch of loose smocks for her, some big floppy unstructured jackets, and she designed a few herself, cleverly draped, so she could at least get through the shows without having news of her pregnancy hit the press. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide it after that. It was hard enough now. She just had to hold out for a few more weeks, and then she could relax, and go into hiding in L.A. She was trying to keep this as quiet as she could. It wasn’t going to help to have every fashion journalist on the planet trying to guess who the father was. She was grateful that no one knew about Jean-Charles. It turned out to be a blessing in the end. She was also nervous about running into him while they were in Paris, but there was no reason why she would. She’d be busy with her show, and would have no free time to go out, roaming around the city she had always loved.

  David was still adamant that Timmie should call him herself and tell him about the baby. But she stonewalled him whenever he said it. He almost wished he had the guts to call him himself, but he had to respect the wishes of his employer, even if he thought she was wrong.

  “The baby has a right to a father,” he told her once, and she shook her head.

  “I didn’t. And I turned out okay.”

  “That’s different. You had no choice.”

  “I don’t want him in my life or the baby’s because he feels sorry for us, or considers us a duty. If he’d gotten out of his marriage, that would be different. He didn’t. So we’re on our own. I’m not going to be some guy’s cast-off mistress with an illegitimate kid. I have more pride than that.” She bridled at the thought, and looked as miserable and bereft as she felt.

  “May I remind you, he didn’t cast you off? You cast him off. You even lied to him and told him there was someone else. You ended it. He didn’t. And you packed a hell of a punch on the way out.”

  “He would have ended it eventually. He didn’t want to see me. It was only a matter of time before he told me he wasn’t getting out of his marriage.” She was sure of that now, without a doubt. Jade had been right.

  “You’ll never know that now, will you?” David said harshly. But he got nowhere with Timmie, or even Jade, who insisted Timmie was doing the right thing, although she and her architect had just gotten engaged. She was all in favor of love, but not with married men. She said, and believed to her core, that they were all a dead end.

  Their show went well in New York, and they went to Milan and London after that, as always. And when they got to Paris, David could see easily that Timmie was not only exhausted but depressed. Her usual excitement over being in Pari
s was nonexistent. She did what she had to do, to set up the show, was relentless about the fittings with the models, as always, but never left the hotel, and ate dinner in her room every night. She went nowhere, and was anxious not to be seen. She was still covering her secret with her smocks and draped tops, but it was getting harder and harder to conceal what was under them. The baby had grown visibly on the trip, and her belly looked huge to them whenever she was in her room in her jeans and took off the cleverly draped tops she had made, which still hid everything, though barely.

  David had a feeling that she was afraid to run into Jean-Charles anywhere in Paris. And whenever she finished working, she scurried back to her room like a mouse. They suggested going out to dinner to her several times, and she always declined and told them to go out without her. She was tired anyway.

  For some reason, the Paris show was more difficult than it usually was. Everything had gone smoothly before, but this time in Paris the moon was in feces, as Timmie put it. Everything that could go wrong did. Two models got sick, a third went to jail for getting caught selling cocaine at a party. Their florist in Paris screwed up and got their order wrong, and then couldn’t produce what they needed. The runway had what looked like three speed bumps in it, and if they left it that way, the models would be breaking their necks in towering high heels on a slippery surface with bumps. Timmie said she didn’t care what it took, or how much, they had to fix it by Tuesday. And last but not least, the lighting kept failing and blowing out everything in the room. While they were trying to fix it, a light bar fell, hit a technician, and broke his shoulder. It felt as though they were cursed.