“I thought about you all night, Julie. I know it’s a terrible line, but I mean it. There was magic in the air last night, and I still feel it today.” He looked into her eyes, and she suddenly had a terrifying fear that he was some kind of pervert who went around pursuing pregnant women, but he didn’t seem like it. She decided to be honest with him, even if it made her sound disloyal to her husband. She wasn’t sure how loyal she wanted to be to Max these days, or if the situation he had put her in was even kind or compassionate to her.
“I feel it too,” she said in a soft voice, “although that must sound crazy to you.” She looked down at her lap briefly and then back at him and he understood.
“That’s not going to be there forever, is it? Unless it’s some kind of unusual growth. Things happen at odd times in life, for unknown reasons, in unexpected ways.” He had summed it up succinctly, and then he asked her a blunt question. “Are you happy about this baby?” She was quick to shake her head.
“No, I’m not. I was devastated when I found out I was pregnant. I was going to have an abortion but I couldn’t do it.”
“I had that feeling last night. You would have mentioned it if you were pleased about it. The dress was terrific, but I figured it out when I was dancing with the two of you,” he said and she laughed.
“It’s a little hard to miss.”
“Next hard question. I’m not known to beat about the bush. Do you love your husband? He seems like a nice guy, but I know how men like him treat their wives, until someone teaches them a lesson. I had to get the lesson three times before I figured out that I wasn’t good husband material while I was working that hard. You’re in luck. I’m retired, more or less. Men like us never retire completely. But we’re tough to love while we’re neglecting our women. I was guilty of it too.”
“You have him pegged, to a tee. And in answer to your question, I’m not sure if I still love him. We’ve been married for ten years, and he’s been good to me. Beautiful house, he’s a generous man. He has a good heart and he’s an honest person, and I think he means well, but he’s a shit father and a lousy husband, and some of it is my own fault. I let him turn me into a baby machine because he wanted the illusion of a big happy family, only to discover after three children that I’m not cut out for motherhood. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I just don’t have it in me. They still feel like someone else’s children. And now this one. I felt coerced to have the second one and the last one was an accident. It’s my own fault for letting it happen. I can’t even remember when we did it, or why for that matter. And he’s no better at parenting than I am. We never spend time with our kids. They think the nannies are their mothers, and they should be. They’re much better parents than we are. We have four of them.”
“They’re only better at it because they get paid to be. So what are you going to do now?” he asked with considerable interest.
“I haven’t figured it out yet. I know I’m supposed to be all dewy-eyed about the baby and motherhood is supposed to overtake me at some point, but it never does. I don’t even want to hold them when they arrive. It’s like being possessed by another human being. And after they’re born, I feel totally overwhelmed by them. And I have no idea how to bring up four children, especially with a husband who’s never there, and never will be.”
“He might be one day, for another set of children with a new wife. Or maybe not. I’m sixty-two and I’m not paternal yet. I never got that gene either,” he said honestly, “and my children know it. Some of them have even forgiven me for it and think I’m fun to have at a dinner party, two of them actively hate me, and I don’t blame them. I was never around and didn’t want to be. And I’m not interested in grandchildren either.” He was being totally honest and so was she. She felt she could say anything to him and be herself.
“That’s how I feel. They’re sweet. My oldest daughter is nine and she’s sensitive and caring, like her father used to be. My second one is a pistol, bright and funny and independent, and the littlest one is in diapers. But they still don’t feel like they’re mine. And I got incredibly depressed when I had the last one. I’m not looking forward to that again, or a baby in the house. They just make me feel guilty.”
“It’ll probably be worse this time,” he said and she was sure he was right. “It doesn’t sound like you have the parenting gene either,” he said pensively, “and it’s much too soon to say so, but with all due respect to your young ambitious husband, you and I sound like a match made in Heaven. I have to admit, I don’t feel sorry for him, and it’s been done to me too. The only ones I feel sorry for are your children, who will need to find a parent somewhere along the way who actually wants to be with them, which you don’t and neither does he. My children all got lucky with their step-parents, fortunately, which probably saved them. So what are we going to do about this? We have time to think about it. But unless you tell me that you’re madly in love with your husband and want ten more children with him, I’m not going to let you go easily. It took me too long to find you.” She was bowled over and didn’t know what to say, as he reached across the table, held her hand in his, and her eyes filled with tears. She felt as though he had just saved her. He really was the handsome prince, or her knight in shining armor. It seemed too good to be true. “Don’t cry, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together.” She felt as though she was dreaming. It was the opposite of the nightmare she’d been living. “I suggest we take it slow, for a while, and see where this leads, and figure it out as we go along. How does that sound to you?”
“Perfect,” she said, as two tears rolled down her cheeks and he brushed them away gently with his fingertip. “This must seem shocking to you. I think I might be falling in love with you, while carrying another man’s baby.”
“I’m not easy to shock anymore. I have a friend who got in a similar situation years ago. The woman left her husband for him after she had the baby, and they’ve been happily married for thirty years.” She thought about it for a moment after he said it. “I have neither a fetish for, nor an aversion to, pregnant women. As long as I don’t have to bring up the baby. You wouldn’t want me to. I’m not good at it. But it sounds like you aren’t either.” She nodded agreement.
“I’d have to give up my children, wouldn’t I?” She had gotten his drift all through lunch.
“With me, yes, you would. I did a lousy job with my own kids. I don’t want to do a lousy job with yours. If we do something about this mad infatuation of ours,” he smiled at her as he said it, “we’d be talking about an adult life between two people who love each other, in total freedom, in various cities around the world. I have no problem with you visiting your children whenever you want to, I just don’t want to live with them. I can’t stand the mess and the noise, the arguments, the fights about what they can and can’t do, their dangerous friends and unsuitable partners, the alcohol and drugs they want to experiment with and you don’t want them to. It’s a nightmare. I can’t go through it again. And you aren’t even there yet with one in diapers and one not even born.”
“You make it sound even worse than what I’m going through now.”
“Trust me. It is. Some people love it. I just don’t happen to be one of them. It took me a long time to figure that out. You’re way ahead of the game. And you’re honest about yourself, which I like. I can’t stand people who pretend they’re good parents, and really aren’t. That’s what damages the kids.”
“I don’t suppose their mother walking out on them will do them a lot of good either,” she said, looking worried, especially about Hélène, who would think it was somehow her fault. She was such a responsible child, and willing to carry everyone’s burdens, including her mother’s.
“No, but it leaves them room for someone else, who might do a better job of it and really love them. I’m not sure that people like you and I really can love our children. We’re not terrible peopl
e, but there’s something missing in us.” She nodded. It was exactly what she felt about herself, and she loved his honesty about it. It no longer made her feel subhuman for the emotions she couldn’t conjure up. “I’ve given you a lot to think about,” he said quietly, and she nodded again.
“Yes, you have.” It had been the most amazing lunch of her life. He had come to some very rapid conclusions, but so many of them sounded right.
“When can I see you again?” He didn’t want to leave her. Now that he had found her, he wanted to keep her close to him.
“I have to go to the city tomorrow,” she said cautiously. She had to go to the doctor for a routine test.
“Perfect. I’ll figure out someplace quiet for lunch and call you in the morning. If we’re going to get tired of each other, we might as well find that out now,” he said as they stood up, and he smiled down at her. “And in case you’re wondering,” he said softly, “I’ve fallen in love with you, you should know that. I would kidnap you right now if I could.” He gently touched her hand as they walked out. She hardly knew him, but she felt as though she belonged with him, and she was in love with him too. There was no hiding from it and she didn’t want to.
He walked her to her car when they left the restaurant and stood next to her for a minute. The attraction between them was so powerful it took her breath away. He was the strongest, most magnetic, decisive, exciting man she had ever met. He watched her get in the car and then leaned down next to her and gently brushed her lips with his. “See you tomorrow,” he said gently. “And for the rest of our lives, I hope.” Then he stepped back and walked to his Ferrari, and waved as she drove away. They were both smiling, and when she got home, she couldn’t stop grinning. She wanted to dance around. She put on some music and thought about him. She didn’t know what was going to happen or if anything would come of it, but just for now, it was the best day of her life. She felt as though she’d been saved.
Chapter 17
As he promised he would, Richard called her in the morning, fortunately right after Max left for work. He was flying to Albuquerque on his new plane for a meeting at lunchtime. And Julie felt like a free woman when she drove to New York. She had an appointment with her doctor at three o’clock, and she had agreed to meet Richard at noon at an Italian restaurant in Tribeca, where she was unlikely to see anyone she knew, but she didn’t really care. They weren’t doing anything immoral or illicit yet, they were just having lunch. Or that was what she told herself as she drove into town. She was wearing a chic black dress and felt glamorous despite her incongruous shape, which seemed absurdly inappropriate for a date with a new man. The dress was short and showed off her legs, and she had worn high heels, and was wearing a black wool coat, and her blond hair was loose and long.
He was waiting at the restaurant and kissed her as soon as she arrived, and she looked up at him with a broad smile. Overnight he had become her safe haven, her escape from a life she had come to hate and a man she was beginning to think she no longer loved. Richard was the embodiment of excitement, love, and hope. He was a welcome change from a neglectful husband, and three children to whom she had too little to give.
They talked about a hundred different things at lunch and avoided talking about the future. They wanted to savor the present first, and had set down the ground rules the day before. They didn’t need to know more yet, except about each other, and how they felt being together. He made her laugh as she hadn’t in years. She could no longer even remember when her relationship with Max had felt like that, if it ever had. This was grown up and mature, two adults who wanted to be together and knew the reasons why. Part of it was sexual attraction in spite of her condition, and part of it was emotional and a need to fill a void in their lives. Richard said he hadn’t been in love with anyone in a long time. For Julie, he was an odd combination of best friend and a man she wanted to love, and thought she could. He was everything Max wasn’t. He had been financially secure all his life, Max was running from a life of poverty, and had been deeply marked by his parents’ fears while he was growing up. She knew he would never stop running, and trying to shore things up, while their marriage was dying at his feet, or already had.
Richard told her that he had an apartment in Tribeca nearby. He wanted her to see it, but said he didn’t want her to think he was trying to seduce her on their second date. He wanted to be respectful of her and give her time to think things out. He was free, she wasn’t, and the situation was a great deal more complicated for her. He said his apartment had a view of the Hudson River, and she was curious to see it, and she felt comfortable going there with him for a few minutes, before she headed uptown for her appointment.
“I promise I’ll behave,” he said when he told her the apartment was two blocks away, and they walked there in the April sunshine arm in arm while he told her stories about his boyhood and made her laugh. She hadn’t laughed like that in so long. He was fun and easy to be with, and she never questioned the fact that he was openly poaching another man’s wife. Being with him felt so good and it was what they both wanted. They were so well suited to each other, and so much alike. They kept discovering things they had in common, in art, in the books they liked. In her lonely years with Max, she had discovered literature and art. They enjoyed the same cities in Europe. He promised to take her to Venice one day on his boat, which was currently in the South of France.
The building he lived in was a restored warehouse with a single loft apartment on every floor. It had a posh industrial feeling to it, typical of Tribeca and the areas around it that were becoming increasingly fashionable, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. The Meatpacking District was nearby, and so was SoHo. They rode up to the top floor in the freight elevator, which opened directly into his apartment, and she found herself standing in what looked like a contemporary art gallery, with deep, comfortable white couches scattered around the room, sculptures by important artists, and a Calder mobile hanging from the ceiling. A circular staircase led to his bedroom with a balcony, and there were tall windows which showed off his river view. It had been done by a famous decorator, and he had an entire wall of rare books. The kitchen area was black granite, and the whole place had a cool, crisp masculine feel to it. It was very sleek and sophisticated, just like him. In a way the apartment defined him. It was a world in which children wouldn’t be comfortable or welcome and didn’t belong. It was exactly where she wanted to be and who she wanted to be with, she thought as he showed her around.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, joking again as they walked in, and he tossed the keys on the granite counter. The marble, glass, and chrome surfaces were in sharp contrast to the comfortable couches, which enveloped you as soon as you sat down. He invited her to sit on one of them, and she laughed as she sank into it.
“You’re going to need a crane to get me up again,” she warned him, and he sank into it with her, and gently put his hand up the skirt of her dress with a questioning look to see if she would stop him, but she didn’t and she didn’t want to. “I have a feeling we’re going to get in trouble,” she said, her words muffled by his lips as he kissed her.
“Not if it’s what we both want,” he said, running a hand below her belly with nimble fingers that found their way further down, and then he stopped to look at her, with tenderness and a question in his eyes. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to, Julie.” But she didn’t want him to stop, and a moment later, they couldn’t, and he pulled off her coat, and gently lifted her dress over her head. Her breasts were full and her belly large, and the rest of her shapely and slim. “You are the perfect sculpture of what womanhood should look like,” and they kissed as she peeled off his clothes and they lay naked together in the embrace of the couch. And he was infinitely careful as he made love to her and they artfully found positions that worked, and she had never known pleasure like it before. It felt like hours before they stopped, and he lay for a long tim
e inside her, and then made love to her again. And then he looked at her, worried for a minute afterward and moved gently away from her. “I don’t want to deliver a baby in my apartment. Maybe we should take it easy for a while.” She lay sated in his arms, and had completely forgotten her appointment and no longer cared. They walked upstairs to his bedroom then, and lay on his bed and looked at the river, and she didn’t want to leave him again.
“I think you might be habit-forming,” she said in a husky voice. She felt as though she belonged there, and they finally got up and walked downstairs in all their naked glory, or they would have made love again.
He had an enormous shower, and they stood in it together with the water running over them as they kissed.
“How am I going to live without you this summer?” he asked as he looked at her and watched her get dressed. He had told her he was meeting friends in Europe who were joining him on his boat, but she had a baby to give birth to, and there was no way she could come. “I don’t want to be around when all that happens,” he said simply. “I don’t want to confuse you. You have to figure this out for yourself.” And with everything going on in her life, June was going to be the right time for him to leave, and she knew she had to do some serious thinking. This was not a small decision, about whether or not to leave a husband and four children for a man she barely knew just because her instinct was telling her they were meant to be together, and he was saying the same thing. But she didn’t doubt what she was feeling. Everything about it felt right to her, and to him too.
And from then on, she drove in from Greenwich and they met at his apartment almost every lunchtime and afternoon. They had a whole secret life together, and they went to galleries and museums and movies, exhibits he wanted to show her. They went to the theater one night when Max was away, and she stayed at Richard’s apartment instead of her own. It was beginning to feel like home to her. They spent every possible moment together in April and May, and as the weeks wore on, she started to worry about his going away.
In His Father's Footsteps Page 24
