In His Father's Footsteps

by Danielle Steel

  She wandered around the house for the rest of the day and night, and at midnight she knew that his plane had touched down. She was awake for most of the night, slept fitfully for a few hours, and got up at six o’clock and showered and dressed and had a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Barbara was having a cup of tea. She had just given Simon his six o’clock feeding, and was wearing her uniform. Max liked to have the nannies dressed properly to take care of the babies and not slopping around in jeans and T-shirts. His father had been formal too, and always dressed impeccably for every occasion.

  “I’m going to the city,” she told the nanny before she left. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” She didn’t know when his plane back to France was leaving. If everything went okay, she’d drive him to the airport and then come back to Greenwich, but it could be fairly late.

  “Have a nice day,” Barbara said as the door swung shut, and Julie could hear the baby upstairs crying. She ran to the car and looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She suddenly felt like herself again, knowing that she was going to see Richard. She was wearing makeup and heels, and her hair looked nice. She’d worn a dress she’d forgotten about in her closet, which fit her perfectly. It was a sky blue silk, the same color as the sari she had worn the night she’d met him. She felt like a woman again, not just a drudge who got left behind every time Max went away.

  She pulled up outside his building in Tribeca at nine-fifty, waited politely for ten minutes, and announced herself to the doorman. “Mrs. Stein to see Mr. Randall.” He called upstairs and waved her to the elevator, and when the elevator door opened, he was standing there in his apartment in white jeans and a black T-shirt and black espadrilles, with a deep tan and his mane of white hair. Without a word he pulled her to him and kissed her. She looked at him afterward and they were both smiling and she knew in that instant what the answer had to be, what it had been all along since the moment she’d met him.

  “The answer is yes,” she whispered, and he swept her off her feet, twirled her around, and set her down gently so he didn’t hurt her and then they raced each other up the stairs, straight to his bed, where Julie celebrated her freedom.

  Chapter 19

  She’d had the nannies keep the children busy out of the house for two days after she got back. They went to a park nearby with waterslides, and a fair that had come through the area with rides and cotton candy and popcorn and ice cream, so she had time to pack what she wanted in peace. She could have the rest of it sent later. She took what she needed for the next few months, for city, boat, and beach. She went through her jewelry, and took some of that too. And she left the emerald ring Max had just given her in its original box with a note that she appreciated it and couldn’t accept it, and put it on his desk. There were six suitcases in all, and she sent them to Richard’s apartment in a town car. He called to tease her about them when they arrived.

  “I’m going to get a hernia carrying all your luggage,” but he was thrilled. The sight of her bags coming off the elevator was the happiest sight he’d ever seen.

  She waited until the day the children went to the fair and even made them take the baby. The nannies slathered him with sunscreen. She knew Max was coming home that night. He could explain it to them however he wanted to. She had left a letter for him and one for each of the children on his desk. There was no way to say what she was feeling that he would understand. They were so different. Too different, and they always had been. He just didn’t want to see it. She didn’t have to pretend to be what he wanted anymore. She was thirty-six years old and she had to be herself now, even if that wasn’t what he needed or wanted. She had to be free.

  She walked around the house for a last time, and took the framed photographs of the children. She knew that there was nothing she would miss. Her life in that house had been an imprisonment. She and Max wanted none of the same things. She closed the front door behind her and never looked back.

  She left her car there and took a town car into the city. She had the money she had inherited from her parents. She didn’t need anything from Richard or want anything from Max. She felt light and unencumbered as they drove into the city, and she walked into Richard’s apartment with the key he had given her. She was wearing jeans and a navy blazer and flat shoes for the flight. A car was picking them up in an hour to take them to the airport.

  “Ready?” he asked her. She smiled at him and he kissed her before she could answer.

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  He held the door open for her and they got into the elevator with all her bags and the new doorman helped them when they got downstairs.

  “We’re leaving on a trip,” he said, giving him a sizable tip. She wasn’t going to use Max’s name anymore. She had made that decision, and wanted her maiden name back. His name had served her well, and she had tried to measure up to it, but it didn’t fit her and it never had. She was Julie Morgan again, which was who she wanted to be.

  They got in the SUV the limo company had sent for them. Richard kissed her as they drove away.

  * * *

  —

  Max knew he should have called Julie from Wichita, but he didn’t. He’d gone to Arkansas after that, and made a quick stop in New Orleans, and then he went home, three days late. But he’d been busy and moving fast. He expected her to complain about it, but he didn’t want to call her from every stop. He took a town car from the airport, and got home just after midnight and let himself in. The house was quiet, as he expected it to be. Everyone was sleeping, even Simon. It wasn’t time for his night feeding yet. He had seen a light in one of the nannies’ rooms, who was waiting for him to wake up. And he didn’t know what it was, but he sensed something different when he walked into their bedroom, and Julie wasn’t there.

  He could hear the clock ticking on his nightstand, and noticed that things had been moved. The stack of books on hers had been put away. Her alarm clock was gone. Her desk had been cleared. He got an eerie feeling as he looked around the room. He walked into her closet and her clothes were there but whole sections were missing and a lot of her shoes. It was weird. Where was she? Had she gone to visit her sisters in California to recover from the baby? The apartment in New York? She hadn’t said anything to him. She was mad at him all the time these days over something or nothing. She still resented having the baby, but she’d get over it. Simon was five weeks old.

  He walked into his study and saw that there were five letters on his desk. One to each of the children, and one to him.

  He tore his open and started to read it standing up, but he had to sit down. He thought his heart was going to stop. She had gone crazy. She didn’t mean it. She was depressed, or it was a postpartum symptom, and for a minute her words swam before his eyes, and he thought he might faint.

  Dear Max,

  This is a hard letter to write and for you to read, I know. Simply put, I can’t do this anymore. I never should have. We both tried. I’m sure you did too. I’m not the woman you married, or thought you married, or wanted to marry. You deserve that person, but I’m not it. You wanted to fill the house with babies, and for me to be the wife and mother of the year. I’m not a mother. I should have realized it sooner but I didn’t. We have beautiful children. But we are strangers to each other and probably always will be. I don’t have a mother gene. It’s not in my DNA. You will be a better mother and father to them, I hope, than I could ever be. You’ll need to stay home more, to be there for them, and guide them. That’s who you wanted me to be. Now you’ll have to be that for them.

  I don’t want to be your wife anymore, or their mother. I’m not coming back. I won’t lie to the children. I’d like to see them if you’ll let me from time to time. But I can’t be a mother to them. I don’t have that to give. And I can’t be the kind of wife you want and need. I hope you find that person one day. You deserve that.

  You’ve built an empire. Your fam
ily is secure. Now enjoy what you’ve built and share it with someone. You need more than deals in your life, and so do I. I can’t be married to someone who’s never here.

  I’m going to Europe for a while. I’ll let you know where I am. You can contact my attorney, the same one my father used. I am giving you custody of the children. Take good care of them, I know you will. And most of all, take good care of yourself.

  I am truly sorry it didn’t work out, and that I’m not the person you wanted me to be.

  Love, Julie

  Max sat staring at the letter and read it four times. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t possible. Decent people didn’t do things like that, or maybe they did. Maybe the real decency was in telling him she couldn’t, instead of being a fraud. She wanted out. From him, from their kids. He had no idea how to explain it to them, although she had, very simply. She didn’t want to be a mother. She was gone. He couldn’t guess where she’d gone, or with whom. He was going to call her sisters in the morning and ask them. Someone had to know where she was. And he wanted her back. She was his wife and the children’s mother, she couldn’t just quit. But she had.

  He lay awake all night, and read the letter again several times. His children had no mother now. It all rested on him. And he realized how wrong he had been to push her into what he wanted. He had hoped for someone like his mother, who was faithful to the end. But Julie wasn’t his mother. She was an entirely different person. And she had had Simon only for him, and given him back five weeks after he was born. This was the kind of thing that women did who left babies on doorsteps with notes pinned to them. But there had to be a damn good reason for it. And for her there was. She couldn’t be who he had forced her to be.

  He was part furious, part terrified, and part sad. He felt suffocated by the responsibility she had just handed him, to be everything to their children, mother and father. She had stepped out of the ring and withdrawn from the fight, and given him back the prize. He could tell that she wanted nothing from him. And she didn’t need it, after her parents died. She had her own money. And then he saw the box with the emerald ring on his desk. He hadn’t noticed it before, and tears rolled down his cheeks when he read her note. He knew now how wrong he’d been to push her to have the last baby. Maybe that was what had done it, one child too many, but other women had accidental children and faced up to it. Julie had handed it all back to him, their life, their marriage, and their kids. He wanted to make her come back, but he didn’t know how to do it. She had slipped right through his fingers and swam free. Like a prisoner tunneling to freedom. He had no idea she was planning this, and he had no idea where to find her. He had a strong feeling she didn’t want to be found by any of them, even her kids.

  He read the letters Julie had left for the children as the sun came up, and they made him cry. Three of them were to be given to the children when they were older, those to the three younger ones. The one to Hélène was similar to his but in simpler terms.

  Darling Hélène,

  I know this won’t make sense to you right now. But one day maybe it will. You are a wonderful person and a wonderful daughter to me and your father. And nothing that is happening is your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.

  Sometimes we make mistakes, because we love someone or are not honest with ourselves. I want to be honest with you and myself. I can’t be a good wife to your dad, the kind of wife he wants. And I’m not a good mother to you, or your sisters and brother. I don’t know how to be a mother, and I don’t want to be. Some people aren’t meant to be mothers, and I’m sorry I figured that out so late.

  I am going away now, and your dad is going to take good care of you. And you please take good care of him too. I would like to see you sometime, but probably not soon. Maybe we can be friends one day and you will understand why I could not be a wife to your dad and a mother to all of you.

  I love you,

  Mommy

  He had no idea how he was going to explain this to them, especially Hélène. How did you tell a child that their mother got up and quit and walked away? It was going to scar them forever to be rejected by their mother. Somehow he was going to have to find a way to hold them all together, and help them grow up without her. If he could talk her into coming back, he would. But he didn’t even know where to find her.

  He had an overwhelming sense of failure as he waited for his children to wake up. He knew it was his fault for forcing her to be something she wasn’t. His own parents had been married for forty-five years, and his wife had dumped him after eleven. He had imposed a life on her she didn’t want, and lacked judgment in understanding who she was, and now he had four children to bring up on his own, and no idea how to do it alone. It was as though she had died. And he felt like he had too.

  He was sitting in the kitchen looking bleary-eyed when Barbara came in with the children. Simon was still asleep in his bassinet, and Daisy said she wanted “popcakes” for breakfast, which were pancakes, and Barbara reminded her that she’d had them yesterday. She’d even had Mickey Mouse “popcakes.” He asked her quietly to get something for Daisy to eat and take her back upstairs, he wanted to have a few minutes alone with Hélène and Kendra, and she could see immediately that something serious had happened. He looked ravaged, and she could smell brandy coming from his pores. It had been a long night for him and it showed.

  His two older daughters looked at him with terrified eyes as Barbara carried Daisy upstairs with a box of cereal, some milk, and a banana, and a bowl to get her started. She waved goodbye as they left and blew her father a kiss, and he had to fight back tears. How could Julie do this? It was so wrong. But not for her.

  “Did something happen to Mommy?” Hélène asked him in a strangled voice with a face that went sheet white.

  “Is Mommy dead like Grandma and Mamie Emm?” Kendra asked, starting to cry before he could even answer. He put Kendra on his lap, and put an arm around Hélène.

  “No, Mommy’s not dead,” he answered immediately. “She’s fine. But she’s done something unusual and a little crazy.”

  “Is Mommy crazy?” Kendra stopped crying and was interested in that.

  “Not really crazy. But sometimes grown-ups do things that are hard to understand. Mommy decided that she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore. And she thinks she doesn’t want the responsibility of being a mom. She thinks it’s too hard for her. So she’s gone away for a while, maybe for a long time. I don’t think she’ll come back to live with us. She says she’ll come to visit us, but she’s not going to live with us anymore. It looks like we’re on our own.” He didn’t know how else to say it.

  Kendra shrieked and started to cry again with her arms around her father’s neck. “I want Mommy to come back. She can’t go away forever.” It made his stomach turn over as he held her while she cried. “I want her to come back now!”

  “So do I. But that’s not going to happen. We just have to be brave about it.” There were tears in his eyes as he said it, and he didn’t feel brave at all. He wished he knew how his parents would have handled a situation like this. He had no clue what he could say that wouldn’t make things even worse.

  “Are you getting divorced?” Hélène asked in a choked voice.

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly, “it sounds like it. That’s what she wants.”

  “Was she mad at you when she left?” Hélène wanted to know, and he shook his head.

  “Not that I know of. I don’t even know when she left. She left us all letters. When I came home last night she was gone.”

  “Are her clothes gone?” Hélène was being systematic about it.

  “Some of them.”

  “She’s been crying a lot lately, and before Simon was born too. I think she’s been sad for a long time.”

  “I think you’re right,” he admitted. “I was very stupid. I didn’t understand th
at, or how sad she was. I thought she’d get over it. Instead she ran away. I don’t think running away is a good thing to do. I think you should stay and face things and work them out. But Mommy didn’t do that. She ran away.” He wanted his kids to get some life lessons out of this about what kind of behavior is okay and what kind isn’t. “And grown-ups get divorced sometimes when they don’t get along. But they should never ever leave their kids.”

  “Are you going to divorce us, Daddy?” Kendra asked him. At five, the concepts were more simplistic.

  “I am never, ever, ever, ever going to divorce you, or run away or leave you.” He held up his right hand in a pledge. “That’s a solemn promise from me to you. And you guys can’t run away either. If you have a problem with something, we can always talk about it and try to fix it. We don’t run away from each other.” Both girls nodded. It didn’t say a lot for their mother, but he didn’t want her setting that example for her kids. He thought that what she had just done to her children was not only mean and despicable, but it was also somewhat deranged. A mother should never abandon her children.

  “I should have helped her more,” Hélène said quietly. “Maybe she would have been happier.”

  “This has nothing to do with you, Hélène, or any of you. It’s very important that you understand that. You did everything you could, you’re great kids. Some moms and dads just don’t do what they’re supposed to, and that’s what happened here. Mommy was not supposed to run away, but that has nothing to do with you.”

  “But she did,” Kendra said to sum it up with her hands held out. “Are you mad at her, Daddy?”