Impossible

by Danielle Steel

  “It's hard to walk into their lives after a year, and pick up where you left off,” he said to Sasha late one night when he called her. “Everything is changed, they're all different,” he had complained. But they were still his kids, and she had given him all the advice she could whenever he called her. He was grateful for her support, and looked exhausted but happy when he arrived back at her apartment late Friday night. He had just gotten off the train. And he looked delighted to see her. He had his baseball cap on backward, his jeans were torn at the knees, and he hadn't shaved all week. Other than the beard stubble, he looked like a boy coming home from camp.

  She ran a bath for him, made him something to eat, handed him a bowl of ice cream, and he lay in bed and looked at her like an angel who had just come down from heaven.

  “It was hard, Sash,” he admitted to her, as he ate the ice cream.

  “I knew it would be,” she said calmly, happy that he was back.

  “I didn't. I guess I told myself it would be like the old days when I saw them. It's not. It's different. They've changed. We felt like strangers at first. They were all really pissed at me.” The only surprising thing was that he hadn't known that. He'd been in denial, and expected time to stand still. But from what he said, after four days together, he had opened the door to healing and a better relationship with them. It had been a wonderful trip, and they were great kids.

  “You have to come back and see them more often. It's not fair if you don't.” If she had to, she'd give him a ticket. She knew how important it was, even if he didn't. But she thought he understood it better now that he had seen them. They loved and needed him in their life. He was their father. Even if their new soon-to-be stepfather could provide better for them, they loved and needed Liam, and he had seen that. He had hated leaving them at the end of the four days.

  She rubbed his back when she got into bed, and gave him a massage, and afterward he made love to her. It was the first time he had made love to her in that bed. But it was no longer hers and Arthur's. It felt like hers and Liam's now. He fell asleep almost the moment they stopped making love, and he looked like a big beautiful boy in her bed, as she lay beside him, stroked his hair, and kissed him in the moonlight.

  Chapter 12

  When Liam woke on Saturday morning after he'd been to Vermont, Sasha suggested to him that they go to Southampton for the weekend. She had been thinking about it all week, and hadn't mentioned it to him, because she wanted to be sure she felt she could do it. But as she made breakfast for him, she thought it was a good idea, and Liam was thrilled. It was a hot sunny day and he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than go to the beach.

  They left the apartment in New York shortly after eleven, and by one-thirty they were there. She had been quiet on the ride out. Liam drove, and he looked relaxed as they chatted from time to time, mostly about his kids and the time he'd spent with them in Vermont. He was still slightly concerned about his oldest son, Tom, having discovered that since the last time he'd seen him a year before, he had turned into a very angry young man. He was going to the University of Pennsylvania in the fall, on a scholarship, and with his future stepfather's help with the dorm. Tom had pointed out to Liam several times that his mother's fiancé had done more for him in the last six months than Liam ever had. Liam had explained to Tom that he was a starving artist, and Tom said he didn't give a damn, and called Liam a flake and a lousy father. Tom had also confronted him about his one-night stand with his mother's twin. Liam was still furious that Beth had told him.

  “That isn't fair,” Sasha said, frowning. “Your ex-wife shouldn't have told him.” It made Liam look terrible in his children's eyes, and she felt sorry for him, although it had been a stupid thing for him to do. But people made mistakes, and regretted them. It was obvious that Liam did. Sasha felt that his betrayal of their marriage should have remained between him and Beth.

  “She didn't hold much back.” Beth had told Tom all about their father's sins, his one adultery, and financial irresponsibility for twenty years.

  “How was she when you saw her?” Sasha asked, wondering about her.

  “I didn't. She was out when I picked them up. Their grandmother was there, and she didn't say two words to me. Becky was at the house with Beth's new guy when I dropped them off. I hope she doesn't pull the same stunt with him. He's probably a lot smarter than I was.” He sighed then, and looked at her. “He seems like a nice guy. And the kids really like him.” She could tell, listening to him, that Liam felt left out. But at least he had gone to see them and opened up communications with them again, even if it had been hard with Tom at first. Liam had told her the night before that Tom had finally calmed down and warmed up. But he wanted to vent his anger first, and it was obvious that he had. She still thought Beth had been wrong to be so open with them about their father's fatal mistake. No matter what the end result, the incident itself should have remained known only to the adults. In her opinion, children didn't need to know their parents' sins, and she said as much to Liam.

  “I think she's still pretty bitter about what I did. She sounds like it. She and Becky have always been jealous of each other.” He hadn't said a word to his ex-sister-in-law when he dropped the children off. Just nodded and drove off. Becky had said nothing.

  By then, Sasha and Liam had reached the house in Southampton. It was a big rambling white Victorian that had reminded them of New England when she and Arthur bought it twenty years before. It looked like houses they had seen in Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket, and it had a wide covered porch all around it. She and Arthur had always loved sitting there on warm nights, and sometimes even all bundled up in winter, sipping hot chocolate. She tried to force the memories from her head as she opened the door for Liam. She usually walked in through the kitchen, but this time she decided to go in through the front door, so it would be different.

  “It's a beautiful old house, Sasha,” Liam said, as he looked around. They had kept it rustic and simple, but it looked comfortable and inviting. There was nothing pretentious about it. There seemed to be no important art, just pretty things, big inviting leather chairs, and two canvas-covered couches. And then he saw the painting by Andrew Wyeth over the mantel. It was stark and bleak and beautiful, and one of his most famous paintings. It looked just like the beach outside, on a winter day. There were little tufts of snow on the ground, and you could sense a stiff breeze in the air on the canvas. It was without a doubt the work of a great master.

  “Wow!” Liam said, as he stood staring at it in awe. He had admired Wyeth all his life. “I'd give my ass to own a Wyeth.” He whistled and then smiled, as she laughed.

  “My father gave it to us for a wedding present.” There were a lot of things like that in the house, mementoes, treasures, things the children had made, early American furniture they had bought together on trips through New England early in their marriage, or when Tatianna was in college and they drove up to see her. There was a beautiful old battered refectory table in the dining room that Sasha had bought in France. Everywhere he looked, Liam saw things that he knew instinctively that she treasured. The house had deep meaning for her, and he realized easily that it had meant a lot to her to bring him there. Even more than her New York apartment. Much more. This house was far more personal, and more important to her.

  “I think I'd move here if I had a house like this,” Liam said admiringly as he sprawled out on the couch, took off his baseball cap, and looked around.

  “We used to spend the summers here when the children were small. They still love it, although neither of them comes out here very often. I think it makes all of us sad. It was Arthur's great love, and at one time mine.”

  “And now?” he asked, looking at her tenderly. This was yet another side of her that he was glad to know. She had as many facets as a diamond, and shone as brightly, although he could see that her eyes were sad.

  “I've only been out here once since he died. But I didn't stay. I couldn't. This morning I knew I want
ed to come here with you.” He was touched and flattered, as he stood up and walked over to put an arm around her. She was letting him into her private world, which he knew was the best gift she could give him. “I should probably change some things and redecorate. Every-thing's looking a little tired,” she said, glancing around. It looked worse than she remembered, as she suddenly saw it through Liam's eyes.

  “I like it like this. It makes you want to sit down and stay forever.” She smiled at him. That was how she had always felt about it, and in some ways still did. The only thing missing was Arthur, but Liam was here now.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, as she pulled back the curtains and raised the shades. Sun streamed instantly into the room, and they could see the ocean and the beach from where they stood. She had brought a bag of groceries from the city to make lunch and breakfast for him. She thought it would be fun to take him to one of the local restaurants for dinner.

  “I'm okay. I could make something for you.” He carried the bag into the kitchen and set it down. It was a huge old country kitchen, with a giant butcher-block table in the middle of the room, and worn counters. The house looked well used, and much loved, because it was.

  He made both of them turkey sandwiches, and opened two cans of soda, which he drank out of the can and Sasha poured into a glass. As soon as they'd finished eating, he suggested they walk on the beach. They hadn't been upstairs to her bedroom yet, and he had a feeling that was going to be hard for her, too. The house was full of memories, and one much-loved ghost, her husband. Liam wanted to tread gently here, and he thought the air would do her good.

  They walked down the beach for nearly an hour, holding hands most of the time, in comfortable silence. He stopped to pick up shells from time to time, and at the far end of the beach, they sat down, and then stretched out and looked up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue and the sun was bright. The sand was warm beneath them.

  “This is my favorite place of all your houses,” he said as he lay there with an arm around her. “I love it here.”

  She could see he did. “I wish my kids could see it one day. They love the beach.” And so did he.

  “Maybe they will,” she said quietly, then sat up, and looked down at him with a gentle smile. He always looked so beautiful to her, especially here at the beach, with his blond hair loose and blowing in the breeze. Hers was in a braid, which she often wore at the beach.

  “Do you swim here?” he asked with interest.

  “It's still pretty cold this time of year. I don't usually brave it until after the Fourth of July, and it's still cold then. It doesn't really warm up till August.” And by then, she'd be in St. Tropez with her children. She wanted Liam to join them for at least one weekend, and had said as much to him, but they hadn't planned it yet.

  “Do you have a wet suit at the house?” Liam asked.

  “I think Xavier left one here.”

  “Maybe I'll go in this afternoon. Want to join me?” She laughed in answer.

  “I'm not that crazy. You must be a tourist,” she teased him, and then they walked back to the house.

  He found the wet suit in the garage, while she unpacked their things upstairs, and came down looking pale. Every time she saw her bedroom and the huge four-poster bed, she thought of the last time she had seen Arthur, when he told her he loved her, the morning she left for Paris. And the next day he was dead. But she didn't mention it to Liam. It was her private cross to bear, and she didn't want to spoil the weekend for him, or make him feel uneasy in her bed.

  He was already wearing the wet suit when she came downstairs. He looked like a very tall, blond seal, and he had tied his long wheat-colored mane into a ponytail. “I'm going in. Do you want to watch me?” He reminded her again of when Xavier was small and whatever he did, was always shouting “Watch me, Mom!”

  “Okay.” She followed him onto the beach, and sat down while he waded in. At least it was bearable in the wet suit. She knew it wouldn't have been otherwise. He swam for a few minutes and then came out, dripping the chilly water of the Atlantic all around him.

  “Shit, it's even cold in the wet suit.” He shivered, and she smiled.

  “I told you.” But he looked as though he enjoyed it.

  They walked back to the house then, and she took him upstairs. She had unpacked his things and hung them in the closet next to hers. She had had a lock put on Arthur's closet the year before. Everything was still there. She hadn't cleared it out yet, and had no idea when she would, if ever. This was his house, too. Even now. In some ways, it always would be. Liam was a guest here. He was well aware of it as he looked around the room. There was a strong male influence in the decor. There were a lot of paintings of birds and fish, and a large one of a sailing ship over the bed. She hadn't brought any of her contemporary pieces here. Most of those were in Paris. This was a whole other life. Even he could sense Arthur here, although he'd never known him.

  Liam took a hot shower after his swim, and they drank wine, sitting on the porch. She had made a reservation at a small fish restaurant. They drove there at seven, both ordered lobster, and drank more wine. As they chatted over dinner, he could see Sasha relax.

  They sat on the porch again when they went home, talking softly in the moonlight, and at midnight, they went upstairs. He could tell this was another one of those places that was sacred to her, and he didn't make love to her that night. They just lay in bed and cuddled. And in the morning, she didn't tell him that she dreamed of Arthur that night. It was a peaceful dream. He was walking away from her on the beach, she didn't try to catch up to him. And when he turned to smile and wave at her, he looked happy, and then he disappeared.

  She made Liam a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs and waffles. They had a big well-used waffle iron in the kitchen. Liam made coffee. They walked on the beach, lay on the porch, and Liam took a nap in the hammock. By late afternoon, as the sun started to go down, they decided to spend another night. Their time together there had been absolutely perfect, and just what they needed.

  They cooked dinner together that night, slept peacefully, cuddled up together, and drove back to the city on Monday afternoon. She didn't even bother to go to her office. And they had dinner with friends of his in SoHo that night.

  They met at an Italian restaurant. There were four artists and two sculptors. They talked about galleries and shows, the work they were doing. They were younger than Liam, she guessed most of them to be in their late twenties and early thirties. Liam introduced her only as Sasha. She stopped and listened as one of them mentioned her gallery over dessert. She was a pretty young woman who said she was going to drop some slides off the next day, as Sasha glanced at Liam, and he smiled. He didn't explain who Sasha was, and on the way back uptown in a cab, she asked him if the girl was any good.

  “She will be. She's not ready for you yet.” It seemed funny to her to be anonymous among them. Funnier yet that they didn't realize who she was. There was something about it she liked, although she felt a little bit of a fraud, as she listened to them talk openly about rival galleries and then hers. Her name had come up more than once as a legendary figure.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked with a yawn as she got into bed beside him. She missed the beach.

  “I'm going to a Yankees game,” he said with a look of delight.

  They were leading a very nice life. Beach, friends, artists, baseball games for him, work for her. It seemed magical and easy to both of them, and she was grateful for his presence. Without meaning to, he had changed her life, and added something she'd never had. A youthful side of life that had eluded her when she married young and had babies. Even before that, she had been busy learning from her father, and then later working for him. She had never led the casual, unconventional life that Liam was still enjoying at forty. None of these people had tasted success yet, or the responsibilities and burdens that came with it. They worked hard but made almost nothing. Few if any were married, and no one but she and Liam had chil
dren. They seemed to have no responsibilities at all. Liam did, but his were being taken care of by someone else, his ex-wife and her future husband. She would have liked to meet his children. Maybe one day that would happen. And in the meantime, he still seemed like a child to her.

  Sasha was busy at the gallery that week, preparing for the opening the following week. She curated all the shows herself, and sometimes even hung the paintings, working late into the night.

  By Friday, she was exhausted and ready for another weekend at the beach. This time they left on Friday, just as she and Arthur used to. They got to the house by nine, sat on the porch, and went to bed early. And this time, ever so gingerly, they made love. Everything seemed to go fine. She was getting used to having Liam in her private world. It was a major step for Sasha, even more than for Liam.