Prodigal Son
Page 25
“Your dad was here for dinner.”
“Nice. What did you eat?”
“Pizza. And Chinese takeout.”
“Wish I were there.”
“Me too. Hurry up and visit. Or you should move here,” Lisa wrote easily and meant it.
“My mom and grandfather would have a fit.”
“They’d get over it,” Lisa assured him.
“Yeah. Maybe. Don’t think so.” It made him homesick for his father when he wrote it. “Hug my dad for me when you see him,” Ryan answered. She sat and stared at the keyboard on her BlackBerry for a minute before she answered. She still had mixed feelings about Peter. She knew he had exposed her father, and all her life she’d been told he was the enemy. She wasn’t sure what he was or how she felt about him, but she loved Ben and Ryan, almost like brothers. She started texting again then.
“Sure,” she said in response. “See ya soon. Love, L.” And with that, they both went back to what they were doing.
Chapter 20
Peter’s new job got off to a good start. He liked his colleagues and associates and the broad base of their clients. They gave him a handsome office, and within weeks he felt as though he had been there forever. It was different from New York, but in a nice way. London was a big, bustling city, and in some ways it was like a more sophisticated, more charming New York. He was happy.
And on Sunday nights, he and Maggie took turns having the whole family over to dinner. They loved his apartment, and Bill enjoyed coming over to watch sports on the giant TV. In some ways, Peter had become the substitute for the father he’d never had. And Peter liked him. It made him less lonely for his boys, and he took Bill to sports events when he had time. He was a bright young guy, and they enjoyed each other’s company. Maggie was grateful that Peter was so generous about spending time with him, and often said so.
“It’s not a sacrifice,” Peter reassured her. “I have fun with him. He’s going to do well.” Peter was growing closer to him.
“I hope so. His father always gave him such a tough time.” It was no surprise, and Peter and Bill both liked the fact that whenever they went out together, they were mistaken for father and son, they looked so much alike.
They were all having dinner together in his spacious kitchen one night in October. Peter happened to look at the date on his watch and realized it was October 10.
“A year ago today, I had lost everything. I was out of a job, the stock market was in the toilet, and so was my life, even more than I knew at the time.” Alana had left him shortly afterward. But he had adjusted to it now; it no longer hurt, even if it felt strange. He had just recently gotten his final decree of divorce from California, and he was less upset by it than he had expected to be. Alana felt like ancient history now, and he could no longer imagine their marriage. The best part of it had been their boys. He didn’t miss the rest anymore. A year later, he was fine, and she was about to be married to someone else. Sometimes life was really strange. A year ago it had seemed like a tragedy. Now it just felt like history.
“Should we celebrate your survival and rebirth into a new life?” Maggie asked cautiously. They both had new lives now.
“Definitely,” Peter said, pouring her a glass of wine. Bill had already helped himself to a beer. He knew his way around, and had spent several nights in the apartment, in his uncle’s guest room, when they shared a rowdy sporting event or a late night. They had fun together.
The kids went to watch something on TV after dinner, and he and Maggie cleaned up the kitchen. It was always easy, since he ordered takeout and didn’t cook.
“Do you want to go to the theater sometime?” he asked Maggie as they put the dishes in the machine. “Apparently my office has a great ticket agent. Ballet, theater, whatever we want.”
“I’d love that,” she said, looking pleased. He was a wonderful addition to their life.
“I’ll check it out,” he promised, and they went to sit in the living room. “It really is amazing. I wasn’t kidding at dinner. My whole world fell apart a year ago. I was at the top of my game before that, and I thought everything was over a year ago. And Alana going back to L.A. with the boys was the final blow. And now, to be honest, I’m enjoying myself.” He felt free as a bird and he liked it. And she was having the same experience. She could do whatever she wanted, and she was no longer a prisoner of her health. Everything had changed. Some terrible things had happened to both of them, but blessings had come of it in the end. Although for her, the agony wasn’t entirely over, and it was all more recent. Her world had fallen apart four months before, when they had discovered what Michael was doing to her. But she had made great strides in four months, and she knew it had been the right decision to be in London. It had all worked out as it was meant to. Peter often thought that if he hadn’t come to London to interview for the job, he never would have met Bill, Bill wouldn’t have sent him the e-mail about the weed killer, and Michael would have still been poisoning Maggie. Or by then he would have killed her. He nearly had. It was a chilling thought. Peter often thought about the strength of the human spirit and its ability to prevail.
Maggie and her children left a little while later, and he called her on Thursday. True to his word, he had gotten tickets to a play that was opening, and she was excited to see it. She hadn’t been to the theater in years. Not since she married Michael. She used to go to New York with her parents as a young girl. But once she was married, Michael kept her close to home, told her she was weak and sick, and wouldn’t let her go out at all.
Peter suggested they have dinner afterward, since the theater was early in London. They had a seven-thirty curtain. And he made a ten o’clock dinner reservation at Harry’s Bar. They’d gotten him a membership through his office. And he used one of the office chauffeured cars to pick her up and drive them for the evening. She felt very spoiled as they left for the theater in the West End. And the play was even better than expected. They both loved it.
She had bought a new short black dress for the evening, and Lisa had frowned when she saw it.
“New dress? Going on a date?” she questioned her.
“New dress, but not a date,” Maggie responded. “Just Peter. We have fun together.” Lisa nodded and didn’t comment.
Maggie looked very pretty when she took off her coat at Harry’s Bar, and Peter saw the dress. She had worn dressy flat shoes, since her stiff leg didn’t allow her to wear heels. But even her leg was doing better now as she moved around more, and she was continuing her physical therapy and taking yoga classes. Her limp was much less pronounced.
And the dinner was delicious. They both ordered pasta, and Peter ordered champagne. It felt like a celebration, and it was. They had both seized hold of life again.
“To our renaissance,” Maggie said, lifting her glass to him, “our rebirth.”
“That’s a nice way to put it,” Peter said, smiling. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s true. I’m enjoying my work more than ever. I really like it here, and I lucked out with this firm.” And then he had another thought. “And I found you again.” And they both knew what that had led to, his saving her life. In great part that was thanks to Bill and the research he had done on the Internet, convinced that his father was poisoning her. Only Bill’s dogged pursuit of his suspicions had saved her. But Peter had helped.
Peter had another idea during dinner. He wanted to explore Europe. He loved living there and all the places they could go that were so nearby. “Do you want to go to Paris sometime? We could take Bill and Lisa. Or even the boys, when they come.”
“I’d love it.” Maggie looked thrilled at the idea. Everything was new now, and fun. The only thing that made her sad sometimes was when she thought about Michael. It was almost as though he had died. And in some ways, for her, he had. Peter had seen the shadow cross her eyes, and gently patted her hand. It brought her mind instantly back to the present where it belonged. The past was too dangerous for them both, a minefield where ne
ither of them wanted to venture.
“Let me know when you want to go, and I’ll arrange it.” He had a wonderful new secretary who seemed to be able to organize anything.
“Anytime,” Maggie said happily. “Lisa will love it. Paris is such a wonderful city.” She wasn’t sure how Lisa would feel about going to Paris with Peter, but Maggie thought it would do them all good. They were family after all.
“What about in two weeks?” Peter suggested. “I’m going to a soccer match with Bill this weekend. And he’d kill me if we cancel.” She laughed. Paris would be far less appealing to her son than soccer.
And once again Peter made all the plans. He told them about it that Sunday night when they had dinner at her place. They were taking the Eurostar to Paris, which would arrive right in town. He had made a reservation for three rooms at a charming little hotel on the Left Bank. They only served croissants in the morning with a café au lait in bowls, Peter explained. They were going to eat dinners in little bistros and do enough shopping to keep the ladies happy. And on Sunday night they’d come back. Maggie beamed as she listened, and Lisa was smiling too. And even Bill thought it sounded like fun, as long as Peter went. A shopping weekend in Paris with his mother and sister was his idea of hell. But Peter assured him they’d find something male to do, maybe a soccer match one afternoon while the women shopped.
“Okay, I’ll come,” Bill conceded.
And the following weekend, the four of them went. They loved the little hotel he’d found in the sixth arrondissement. He had made reservations at restaurants that were fun for the young people. He managed to find a soccer match on Saturday afternoon for him and Bill. Peter had done his homework, and made an excellent tour guide. They strolled around the Place Vendôme, and the Faubourg St. Honoré. And on Saturday night after dinner at a restaurant called Market, he and Maggie sat in the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz in cozy elegance and relaxed. It had been a busy day.
“Alana must be crazy,” Maggie said happily as she sipped a glass of champagne.
“No. Just spoiled. Why?” He didn’t know what she meant.
“Because you’re the most attentive man I’ve ever met. You see to it that everyone has a good time. You made all the plans. You made sure Lisa and I had shopping time, you got Bill to a soccer game so he’s happy. You took us to a restaurant we loved. The hotel is fabulous. You think of everything. How could she ever let you go?”
“I never said she was smart,” he said, and then laughed. “I’m just kidding. She’d rather be in L.A. than anywhere on earth, near her father. It suits her. It’s all rhinestones and flash. And don’t forget, I lost my job and all our money. That wasn’t what she had in mind. I’ll make it again one day,” he said, looking serious for a moment. And he was being handsomely paid in London. They had offered him a partnership in two years, maybe sooner. But he knew he had a long climb back up to where he’d been, if he ever got there. It wasn’t quite as easy at his age as it had been in his twenties and thirties, and it was a different era. Money had been free and easy then, and it no longer was. Times had changed. “I’m not sure it matters to me as much anymore,” he said honestly. He was always honest with Maggie. She was easy to talk to. “Maybe it would have fallen apart with Alana anyway, even if I hadn’t lost my money. Looking back, I’m not sure how much we had in common, other than our kids. I never had time to think about it. I was too busy working.”
“And I wasted twenty-three years of my life being sick,” Maggie said sadly. She’d never get back those lost years.
“You had help. He made you sick, or think you were, so he could control you. What does it say in the Bible, something about you’ll get back the years the locust hath eaten? That’s true for both of us. We lost a lot, but look what we have now.” They were both enjoying their lives more than ever before, and they had someone to do it with, even though they no longer had partners or spouses. Friendship was perfect when it was as comfortable as this. Neither of them wanted more than that for now.
They talked for a long time at the bar, and took a cab back to their hotel at two A.M. Peter kissed her on the cheek, and she thanked him again. And she was surprised to find Lisa still awake in the room they shared. She had waited up and greeted her mother with a look of interest.
“Did he kiss you?” she asked, sounding more like mother than daughter.
“Of course not!” Maggie laughed at her. “Don’t be silly. Why would he kiss me? We’re friends. Besides, he’s my brother-in-law.”
“So what? He’s divorced. And you’re …” They both knew that her marriage was over too, even if she was still legally married to Michael. But she wouldn’t be forever. She and Peter were both free. “Besides, he likes you. Can’t you tell? Why do you think he brought us to Paris?”
“So we’d all have a good time. Not to kiss me, you goof.” She ruffled her daughter’s hair and unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, and she saw that Lisa was looking worried. She had no reason to.
“You looked pretty tonight, Mom.” She’d worn another new dress. She’d bought three for the trip to Paris. And new shoes.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Don’t worry about Peter. Honestly, we’re just friends.” Lisa was quiet for a minute.
“Maybe you should kiss him,” Lisa said pensively. “I guess Daddy’s never coming back.” She looked sad.
“No, he’s not,” Maggie said as she put her arms around her. “I’m not ready to kiss anyone, and when and if I am, it probably won’t be Peter.”
“Why not?”
“Because sometimes being friends is better, and I wouldn’t want to spoil it.” Lisa nodded, reassured, and a minute later, they slipped into bed together. She lay thinking about what Lisa had said for a long time. Maggie hadn’t lied to her, and she believed what she had said. Sometimes friendship was better. She was just grateful for her new life, and she felt like she’d been born again. Paris was just the icing on the cake. And Peter was exactly what she had said. A friend. And a moment later, she was asleep.
Chapter 21
When the train pulled into the St. Pancras Station in London on Sunday night, they had all had a fabulous time, thanks to Peter and his impeccable arrangements. He had been thoughtful and generous to them all weekend. They didn’t make dinner plans that night because they had eaten on the train. And in the cab on the way home, Peter said he thought they should do that in a different city every weekend. He was teasing, but they had certainly had fun. They had spent so much time exploring the Marais on Sunday afternoon that they almost missed the train and had to hurry to catch it. And they had played several rowdy games of cards on the trip back. Peter was good company, and so was Maggie. She said she hadn’t laughed so much in years. She had forgotten what being carefree felt like.
He dropped Maggie and Lisa off first with the cab, and then took Bill home, and then went home himself.
Maggie called him as soon as he got in. “I don’t know how to thank you for such a wonderful weekend. We loved it.”
“So did I,” he said generously, and he meant it. “You have wonderful kids.”
“So do you,” she said, and meant it too. She loved his boys, and they were so sweet, just as he was.
“That’s because we’re such wonderful people,” he teased her. “I’m glad you had fun. We’ll have to do it again. I’m trying to organize a ski trip for the boys, by the way. Maybe the three of you should come with us. We’ll make it a family vacation.” And it would be an important one. They all needed some fun before the trial, which was scheduled for early January.
“I don’t ski,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
“Neither do I. I blew out my knees playing football in college. I’m strictly a hot toddy at the fireplace guy. We can play cards.” She had to admit, she liked the idea. They were providing each other the family and adult companionship that they both lacked. “I’ll let you know what I come up with. I’m thinking Switzerland or France.”
“Bill would go nuts. He’s a big s
kier.”
“So are the boys. I’ll figure out something. We can talk about it when they come out for Thanksgiving. Do you want to join us for that, by the way? It’s not a holiday here, so we’ll have to create it ourselves.”
“I was thinking about that too.” And they didn’t have friends here yet, although Lisa was meeting Americans at school. “Why don’t I do it at my place? Lisa and I can cook.”
“That’s good. Otherwise we’ll be having Chinese takeout, or curry, for Thanksgiving, and the boys might be a little upset.”
“We’ll do it,” Maggie volunteered, sounding happy. “Anyway, thank you for a fantastic weekend in Paris.”
The next day she sent him two very good bottles of Bordeaux to thank him, and he called to scold her.
“You don’t have to do that. We’re family.”
“Are you kidding? We had a ball.” He had treated them to everything and even paid for the train. He had spoiled them. “You’re very good to us, Peter,” she said kindly.
“We’re good to each other, Maggie,” he said gently. “That’s what life is all about.” They were both nice people. He was right about that. And they had both been badly bruised before this. It made them grateful for the good times. “I loved it too.” He had to leave for a meeting then and he promised to call her on the weekend. When he did, the kids were busy with friends, and he took her to a movie and a simple Indian dinner afterward. And on Sunday night, they had their usual dinner at his apartment. It was becoming a routine they all enjoyed. And she noticed that Lisa seemed more relaxed with him after her reassurance in Paris, or maybe she was just more used to him. Lisa was finally coming out of her shell after all she’d been through, and so was Maggie.
And when the boys came to London for Thanksgiving, it felt like a party. The four kids had pillow fights, played wild games of cards, played monopoly and cheated liberally, went to the movies, and Maggie and Lisa cooked a superb Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was so stuffed they could hardly move. And the next day, they drove out to the country for the day.