Answered prayers

20

BRAD DIDN'T CALL FAITH BEFORE HIS FLIGHT LEFT FOR London, because he knew she was still at school. But he thought about her as he sat in the airport, and after the plane took off. He just sat staring out the window, thinking of her. Sitting next to her in front of the fire the night before was all he wanted out of life. All he had ever wanted. And knew he would never have. More than anything, he knew he had no right to her. She deserved a good life, with someone who loved her, and would be good to her. He had no intention of leaving Pam, and Faith deserved more than a part of a married man. He would never have done that to her. He was only grateful that she had no idea of the feelings he had for her. But unlike Faith, he had no desire to stamp out the feelings he had developed for her. All he wanted to do was conceal them, and cherish them. Other than what he felt for his sons, she had become what mattered most to him in his life.
After a while, he fell asleep, and slept for most of the flight. He woke for dinner, and went back to sleep again.
And when he awoke finally, just before they landed, he was thinking of Faith again. He had the distinct impression he had dreamed of her all night.
The plane landed just after one o'clock, New York time, and he went straight to a phone and used his credit card to call her. He wanted to say good-bye to her again, before he joined Pam at the hotel. They were leaving for Zambia that night.
The phone rang twice, and Faith grabbed it, and answered in a sleepy voice. It was the middle of the night for her.
“Hello?” She couldn't imagine who it was. And smiled when she heard Brad.
“I'm sorry to wake you,” he apologized. “I just wanted to say good-bye again.”
“How did your meetings go in New York?” She rolled over in bed, holding the phone, and opened her eyes.
“Great. I got some very interesting advice from my friend. I don't know if it'll work, but I'm going to try like hell when I get back.” Faith knew how much it mattered to him. He had lost a trial two months before, and a sixteen-year-old boy had gone to prison for five years. Brad had been devastated, and was convinced it was his fault for not doing a better job.
“I know you will,” she reassured him. “What's the weather like in London?”
“Freezing. Cold. Rainy. The usual.”
“Sounds like New York,” she smiled. In spite of herself, she was glad he had called.
“I wish I could go see Eloise for you. I think I could make her listen to me, I'd sure as hell love to try.” But they both knew it was impossible. He was a stranger to her daughter.
“I wish you could. Are you doing anything special in London?” It was strange to think of him with Pam for two weeks. Their lives were so separate most of the time, that she suspected the constant proximity would be hard on him, and maybe also on her. They were almost strangers to each other now. The only common ground they shared was their sons.
“Nothing much. Pam will want to shop. I thought I'd go to the British Museum for a couple of hours. Maybe I'll go with her. But shopping makes me crazy after a while.” And then he had a thought. “Maybe I'll go to church, and light candles for you and Jack.” The thought of him doing it made her smile, as she lay listening to him in the dark.
“It gets addictive, doesn't it?” she said, and he laughed.
“Yes, it does. The funny thing is I believe in it. It's as though as long as that little light stays on, something special will happen to you, or you'll be safe. I want to give that to you,” he said gently.
“You already do. But I appreciate the candles too. I'm sorry I missed your calls this morning. I went to church really early.”
“That's funny. I had the feeling that was where you were. You looked awfully serious last night, Fred. Were you okay?” She had been thinking of him and all she felt for him, and she had no intention of telling him that, or she would have to go to confession again.
“I'm okay,” she reassured him, “there's just a lot going on in my life these days. A lot to think about.”
“I know. That's why I worry about you.” And then after a moment's pause, he sighed and told her he had better get to the hotel. “Take good care of yourself, Fred. I'll talk to you in two weeks.”
“Take care of you too. And have fun!” she said, and then he was gone, and she lay in bed thinking of him for hours after she hung up the phone. Gouging Brad out of her heart was not going to be an easy thing to do. And watering down what they had until it was just friendship again would be just as hard. She had no idea what to do.
It was after six A.M. British time, when Brad arrived, and by the time he went through customs, called Faith, and got the limo into town, it was nearly nine o'clock. Pam had stayed at Claridge's the night before, and she had already gone out when he walked into the room. She had left him a note, and told him that she would be back in time to leave for the airport with him, and that all her bags were packed. As usual, she had brought far too much.
Brad showered and shaved, ordered something to eat from room service, read the paper, and left the hotel at noon. He went to the British Museum, as he had told Faith he would, and found a beautiful old church on Kingsway, six blocks from the museum, and lit the candles he had promised for her and Jack. He sat in the church for a long time, thinking about her, and what a decent person she was, and how he wished he could do more for her. And then he went for a long walk. He wound up on New Bond Street finally, and wandered into some art galleries. He stepped into Asprey's to admire the silver animals and leather goods, and then he ran right into Pam coming out of Graff's. It was one of the most important jewelers in the world.
“If you tell me you just bought something, I'm going to have a heart attack,” he said fervently, and she laughed.
“Just window shopping,” she said innocently. She didn't tell him she had bought a narrow diamond bracelet and a new watch. They were sending them home for her, so she didn't have to come clean with Brad yet.
She had a limousine from the hotel, and Brad caught a ride back to the hotel with her. She was looking very stylish in a navy pantsuit and a fur-trimmed raincoat. It was hard to imagine her in Africa. She looked far more at ease in London, in the back of a limousine.
“What did you do today?” she asked pleasantly, as they rode back to the hotel. He smiled to himself thinking how horrified she'd be if he said he'd gone to church.
“I went to the British Museum,” Brad said innocently.
“How sensible.” She smiled, as they pulled up in front of Claridge's, and the doorman and a bevy of porters ran to their aid. The driver had put half a dozen shopping bags in the trunk for her, and Brad groaned when he saw them emerge.
“I hope you bought another suitcase to put them in, if you're planning to take all that to Africa.” He couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd bought. There were bags from Gucci, Hermes, Saint Laurent, and Chanel. Not to mention her stop at Graff's.
“I have room in my suitcases. Don't worry about it,” she said, and then marched into the hotel, as the porters followed with her bags. It struck Brad as he brought up the rear how different she was from Faith. She was powerful, confident, didn't hesitate to tell people what to do, and gave everyone the impression that she could have run the world, and would, given half the chance. Faith was infinitely gentler, quieter, more subtle in her approach, and whenever he was around her, Brad had a sense of peace. When he was with Pam, he had the feeling that he was standing on a volcano that was about to erupt. One had a sense of tension and energy that was inadequately confined. And he never knew when her velocity would be directed toward him.
They didn't say anything to each other while they rode up in the elevator, and Pam turned to look at him as they walked into the room. She felt as though she hadn't really seen him in a long time. And in a sense, that was true, even though they existed marginally under one roof.
“It's too bad the boys are in Africa,” Pam said as she sat down in a large wing chair in the living room of their suite. She always stayed in luxurious hotels, and took big suites. “I wish they were someplace more civilized,” she said, kicking off her shoes, “like Paris or New York.”
“I don't think that would be as much fun for them,” Brad said, opening a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and offering her some.
“Probably not,” she said, and barely took a breath before her next question. She was clever and read him well. She knew he had something on his mind. Although they weren't close, she had remarkable instincts for him. And not always of the best kind. Sometimes all she wanted to do was corner him, and prove she could. “How was New York?”
“Very good,” he said, looking pleased. “I got everything I wanted from Joel Steinman, on that capital case I've got.”
“That's nice.” She was never interested in his work, any more than he was in hers. “How was your friend?” Bingo. She could see it in his eyes, no matter what he chose to say next.
“Faith?” He wasn't going to hide it from her, nor give her the satisfaction of discovering it at some later date. “Fine. I had dinner with her last night.”
“Has she figured out yet that you're in love with her?” Pam asked unemotionally. She had everything she wanted from him. Respectability, limited companionship, and the convenience of not unwinding a marriage they had had for years, which it would have bothered her to give up, as much as it would him. Which was why they stayed married. It worked for both of them. But he didn't like the nature of her question, nor her tone.
“No, she hasn't. Because I'm not.” Pam had figured it out before he had, but he had no intention of admitting that to her. Secretly, he now knew she was right. But it would have been dangerous for all concerned to admit it to her. And more than anything, he owed it to Faith to protect her. “I told you, we're old friends.”
“I can't figure out if you're lying to yourself, me, or her. Probably all three.”
“That's a pretty picture you've painted,” Brad said, looking annoyed, as he took a sip of wine. Pam was quietly sipping hers and watching him.
“Don't look so uptight,” she teased. “You must be in love with her, if you're so defensive. It's no big deal, Brad. We've both been there before. What are you being so sensitive about? What's so sacred about this girl?”
“She's the sister of my best friend, who happens to be dead. And I grew up with her. She's like my kid sister. And I think it's tasteless of you to be making those kinds of allusions about her.”
“Sorry if I'm tasteless, darling. You know how I am. I call it the way I see it. And I know you. I think you have a thing for her. No big deal. I'm not sensitive about it.
Why the hell should you be?” She had a way of prying into his life without tact or sensitivity. It was why their marriage had finally not worked. One way or another, she ran roughshod over him. And it was one of the things he loved about Faith. She was gentle with him. And with everyone. Pam hit everything with a hammer, and mostly him.
“Why don't we just drop this particular subject for the rest of the trip? It'll go a lot better for both of us if we do.” They were about to spend more time alone together, and in close quarters, than they had in years. In San Francisco, they could get away from each other, and had their own lives. On this trip, it was going to be like being Siamese twins. And Brad wasn't thrilled.
They managed to stay out of each other's hair for the next two hours. Pam took a bath, Brad took a nap, and they ordered sandwiches from room service before they left for the airport. It was going to be a long night. They had a twelve-hour trip ahead of them, and were scheduled to land in Lusaka in Zambia. And from there they had to take another plane to Kalabo, across the Zambezi River from Victoria Falls. The boys had promised to meet them with a van to take them to the national park where they lived and worked.
Pam disappeared while they were waiting at Heathrow, she wanted to check out the shops. And Brad went to buy a book. He tried to call Faith, but she was out. So he left her a message, sending her his love. He and Pam met up again half an hour later at the gate, and she handed him a small gift-wrapped box.
“What's that?”
“Present for you,” she said, looking apologetic. “I'm sorry I teased you about your friend.” Some things were off limits, and she was beginning to think that girl was, which only confirmed what she thought. But she preferred to make peace with him before the trip.
“Thanks, Pam,” he said, looking touched, and opened it to find a small Japanese camera with a panoramic lens. It was perfect for their trip. “What a nice gift. Thanks.” It reminded him briefly that they had once liked each other, and been friends, but it had been a long time since then. There had been a lot of water under the bridge, and too many disappointments for either of them to rekindle much more than friendship. But for this trip, at least, it was enough.
They settled into their seats on the plane, ordered dinner, and selected movies for their individual screens. Pam took out a stack of fashion magazines she'd brought, and some papers from the office. She was working on some major deals when she left, and her father had promised to baby-sit them for her. He was the only one she really trusted in the firm. Other than that, she relied on herself. In spite of all the other attorneys, and capable people around her, she was a one-man band. Pam didn't work well on a team. And neither did Brad. They had never trusted each other either when they were working together. He handled his own clients, as she did hers, and they had argued constantly about work. It was one of the many reasons he had left. That and the fact that he had felt like he was on a leash, with Pam and her father at the other end. It had been untenable for him. And it was part of why she was so angry when he left. She had lost control of him. Which was one of the things he loved most about working on his own. He was his own man, and no longer answered to her or her father.
They said very little to each other on the trip, and they both looked exhausted when they arrived at the first airport. Neither of them had slept. And as Brad had lain staring at the movies he'd selected, all he could think about was Faith. He would have died rather than admit it to her, but Pam was right. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He worried about her feelings, and her well-being, and what Alex was doing to her. He was afraid Alex would do something really awful to her in his absence. He felt badly for her about Ellie's betrayal. All he could think of were the ten thousand problems she could possibly have while he was gone. And there was no way for her to contact him.
“You look like shit,” Pam said bluntly, as they waited for the next flight.
“I'm tired.”
“So am I. I hope the boys appreciate our coming all this way. I'm beginning to think we should have waited till they got home.” But Brad missed them too much, and they had promised to go. And he had convinced Pam it would be a great trip. But she was already worrying about the food, and even the bottled water, when they got on the next flight. And this time, out of sheer exhaustion, they both slept.
It was morning in Kalabo when they arrived. And they both woke up at exactly the same moment, as the plane touched down. There was an incredible sunrise, and a sky streaked with pink and orange as the sun hovered over the mountains, and they could see herds of animals gathered on the plains. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life. The terrain seemed to stretch out forever, and there were only a handful of roads and vehicles. And there were half-naked tribesmen standing near the tarmac, waiting for people to disembark from the plane.
“Well, here goes,” Pam said, looking nervous. “I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” she said as Brad laughed. She was not a woman who liked being taken out of her own environment, or the places where she felt in control. And this was far from being one of those. But Brad didn't care where they landed, or what they had to go through to get there. It had been nine months since he'd seen his sons, and that was enough for him. He'd have gone to hell and back to see them.
They walked down the stairs to the tarmac, and into the terminal to clear customs, which consisted of a barefooted man in a shirt with epaulets and a pair of white shorts. He had a head like an African carving, and he glowered at them both, checked their passports, and then waved them on. The customs officer had the kind of face and demeanor that would have terrified Pam if she'd been alone. All she wanted was to go back to Claridge's, and then home. The only consolation was seeing Dylan and Jason, but as far as Pam was concerned, being there was a high price to pay to see her sons.
Brad gave a whoop the moment he saw them. They were waiting next to a van outside, and as Pam and Brad and a porter emerged, they hurried toward their parents, and embraced them both. They were handsome and tall, with blond hair bleached by the sun, and faces so darkly tanned they looked like natives. They were identical and looked like Brad, right down to their cleft chins, except for the blond hair that no one had ever been able to explain, except for some unknown distant relative. Brad had always said that there must have been a Swede in there somewhere. They had been towheads as babies and little boys. And Brad realized as he saw them, that they had hair the same color as Faith's. It was yet one more thing to remind him of her, even there.
“You two look incredible,” Brad chortled. They had filled out, and from the work they were doing, had developed powerful muscles in their backs, shoulders, and arms. They looked like bodybuilders in their T-shirts and jeans. And even Pam looked excited now that she was here. It was great to see them both.
“You look good too, Dad,” Dylan said to his father, as Jason helped load his mother's bags. Only Brad had ever been able to tell them apart. He had always sworn that they looked distinctly different. Pam had never been sure which one she was talking to, and had solved the problem by putting them in different-colored sneakers when they were little, which they had learned to switch later on. But even now, as adults, it was hard to tell them apart. Jason was a quarter of an inch taller, but even that didn't show.
They were full of interesting information and data, as they drove to the Liuwa Plain National Park near the Zambezi River, where they lived and worked. They explained sights as they saw them, named animals as they passed them, talked about tribes who lived in the bush along the road. What they were seeing was exactly what Brad had hoped, and it made him glad they had come. And he realized more than ever what an extraordinary experience it had been for the boys. He knew they would never forget it, and would be hard put to duplicate the experience once they got home. They were due back in July, although they'd been talking about spending a year in London, or maybe six months traveling in Europe, before they went to graduate school or got jobs at home. Pam was determined to pressure them into law school. And after what they were seeing, Brad was no longer sure she had a chance. They had seen a far broader world. The experience had been priceless for them. And neither of them had expressed an interest in the law, nor for working for her later on.
It took them four hours to drive over narrow highways and rutted roads to the game preserve in the national park, and by the time they got there, Pam was beginning to look unnerved. She had the distinct impression that they were at the end of the world, and they were. Brad loved it, just as the boys did. She looked as though she were ready to go home. And it was worse once they arrived. The employees of the game preserve lived in tents outside. There were two narrow buildings, one that served as a large rec room and office, the other as a mess hall, and there were two tiny cabins for guests. The boys had corralled one for them, but Brad suggested that he'd rather sleep with the boys in their tent.
“I wouldn't!” Pam said quickly and they all laughed. There was an outdoor shower, which was actually a large tent with a hose, and outhouses that served as latrines. It was actually among the more plush of the game preserves in the region, but it wasn't as fancy as some in Kenya, which Pam might have preferred. As far as she was concerned, this was as bad as it got. “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath, as Dylan opened a door and showed her the latrines. “Is that it?” she asked, praying for a bathroom to drop from the sky. The thought of spending two weeks there nearly made her cry.
“You'll be fine,” Brad said calmly, patting her shoulder, and she shot him a fiery look. “Whose idea was this?” she whispered to him when the boys went to get them warm blankets and pillows, and Brad laughed.
“Your sons'. They wanted us to see where they've lived for the last nine months. You'll get used to it, I promise.”
“Don't count on it.” And Brad knew her well enough to know that she was probably right. But he also knew she'd try. She was spoiled and loved her comfort, but when pressed, she was also capable of being a good sport. And she made the effort for the boys. Although she nearly fainted when she saw her first snake, and the boys warned her that there were flying bugs the size of her fist that would fly across the room at her at night. Just hearing about them made her want to scream, or pack up and go home.
They spent their first night outdoors, sitting around a fire, listening to the sounds of the velvety African night. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life, and he loved it. And the next day, Brad went on a long drive with the boys, over sand roads, to Lukulu, a market town, and Pam stayed at the camp. She didn't want to venture too far. She had visions of their truck being rammed by a rhino or pounced on by a lion, or flipped over by a water buffalo. And she wasn't too far wrong. Some of those things had happened, but for the most part, the people on the preserve knew what they were doing, and by now so did her sons. Brad came back raving about everything they'd seen.
And for the first week, the days seemed to fly by. The only thing he longed for was a phone so he could call Faith and tell her what he'd seen. All Pam wanted was a toilet and a shower. But she stopped complaining after the first few days.
The boys also took them to Ngulwana, on the opposite side of the river from the park, where they had worked digging trenches, building houses, and restoring a disintegrating church. They were currently helping to build a medical office, where a doctor came once a month to treat the ailing and injured locals. The nearest hospital was two hours away in the dry season, in Lukulu, and it took twice as long in the rainy season, if one could get there at all. The only other option was to get there in a small plane. It was not a great place to get sick, Pam commented, and Brad agreed. But he was also impressed by how much work his sons had done for the locals. And everyone seemed to know them and love them. A number of people waved and smiled in greeting as they walked by. And both Pam and Brad were enormously proud of them.
By the second week, Brad had fallen in love with Africa itself, the people, the sounds, the smells, the warm nights, the incredible sunrises and sunsets, the light that was impossible to describe. He never had his camera out of his hands, and he suddenly understood why his sons loved being there. It was magical, and he would have loved to spend a year there himself. And Pam, for all her efforts at good sportsmanship, had eaten everything they gave her, learned to shower in the outdoor tent, still winced when she used the latrines, screamed when she saw the bugs, and much as she loved her sons, couldn't wait to go home. It just wasn't for her. And on the last night, she had a look of joyful relief.
“Mom, you were a great sport,” Jason congratulated her, and Dylan gave her a hug. It was Brad who was chagrined to leave. He had spent both weeks sleeping in their tent with them, going on drives with them at night, and getting up with them before dawn. He had seen kills, and stampedes, and a watering hole where sick and old elephants went to die. He had seen things he had only read about or dreamed. It had been a moment in his life he knew he would never forget, and had loved sharing with them. And it had meant a great deal to both boys. They had also had more to talk about and confide in him than they had had in years. They had told him, just as he suspected, that they had no interest in law school, but were afraid to tell Pam. Dylan was thinking about med school, and wanted to come back to work in third world countries with children suffering from tropical diseases, and Jason wanted to do some kind of public health work, on a grander scale, but didn't yet know what. In either case, they had years ahead of them in school, and wanted to get started soon, probably in another year, after they'd applied. But in both cases, law school was out of the question for them.
“Who's going to tell Mom?” Brad teased them on one of their long predawn rides.
“That would be you, Dad,” Dylan teased back. “We figured you have the most experience at giving her bad news.”
“Thanks a lot, guys. And when do you expect me to give her this little piece of news?” She had already imagined them working in their grandfather's firm, and had planned that since they were little boys. The only ones who weren't on the same page with her were Dylan and Jason.
“We thought you could tell her after you left.” Jason laughed.
“I can hardly wait. I should let you two do your own dirty work. That's part of growing up.” But in the end, he agreed. He would tell her sometime after they got home, but he decided to let her recover from the trip first. She had gotten a mild case of dysentery in the past two days, and was increasingly desperate to go home.
She looked like she was being let out of prison the day they left. It had not been her favorite trip, except for seeing her sons. She had been nervous and on edge and ill at ease the entire time. She imagined every possible kind of danger and disease lurking everywhere, and had barely been able to enjoy the sounds and smells and sights. Brad had enjoyed it for both of them, and would have loved to come back, but the boys were leaving in three months. He wished he could have come sooner, so he could have had a second trip, without Pam. It was draining having to constantly reassure her. But he was patient and sympathetic to her fears. It was a big stretch for her. She would have much preferred going to Hawaii or London or Palm Springs. Africa was just too much. Her nerves were frayed by the time she left, and she hugged the boys good-bye with obvious relief.
“Thanks for coming, Mom,” they both said with feeling. And knowing how she felt about it, they appreciated it all the more. Brad respected her for making the effort. The trip hadn't made a stronger bond between them, but it had between him and his sons. He was thrilled to have shared the time in Africa with them.
“I'll see you at home,” Pam said, with the emphasis on “home” as they all laughed.
“We'll be back by July,” they both said. They had already agreed to come home for a while, before setting off again, either to travel, or take jobs in Europe for a year. Dylan wanted to go to Australia and New Zealand. Jason was trying to talk him into a year in Brazil. In either case, they were obviously not ready to settle down.
“They need to start thinking about law school, or at least apply if they want to get into a good school,” Pam complained to Brad as they got on the plane, and he nodded. He knew it was too soon to give her the bad news. She hadn't even left Africa yet. And she looked anxious all the way back to Lusaka, where she sat miserably in the airport, with stomach cramps. She was not feeling well. But she felt better on the flight back to London, and she looked as though she had died and gone to Heaven when they arrived at Claridge's, where they were spending the night before flying home. They were going straight over the pole, and not stopping in New York, and Brad was flying home with her. As far as he was concerned, it had been a remarkable trip, and he felt like a new man. He felt as though he had conquered the world. Pam was just grateful she'd survived.
“I am not going to visit them in Brazil,” she said firmly as she climbed into the immaculate bed. She had taken a bath for an hour, and scrubbed her hair and nails. She had felt filthy for two weeks. And she felt like a queen in the enormous bed. She said goodnight to Brad then, turned off the light, and went to sleep, while Brad went to sit in the living room and read. He waited another hour until she'd fallen into a deep sleep, and then he called Faith. She answered on the second ring, and was thrilled to hear his voice. Almost as much so as he was to hear hers. The moment he heard her he wondered how he had survived for two weeks without talking to her.
“You sound great, Fred. Is everything all right?”
“Very peaceful,” she said, sounding healthy and calm. It was afternoon for her, and she'd been working on a paper in her study when he called. “How was the trip?”
“Incredible. I can't even describe it to you, it was so beautiful. I'll send you pictures. I want to go back.” She was delighted for him. She had worried about him a lot, but had to assume he was okay. She had also wondered, with silent trepidation, if it had been a second honeymoon for him and Pam. She prayed that it would be, for his sake, and an evil, selfish part of her, she told herself, hoped not.
“How were the boys?”
“Fantastic. Big and beautiful and strong, and happy. It's the best thing that ever happened to them. I wish I'd done something like that when I was their age. I wouldn't have had the balls.”
“Was it scary?” she asked, sounding impressed, and he laughed.
“I didn't think so. I don't think there's enough money in the world to pay Pam to go back. It really wasn't her trip. She slept in a little hut, and was terrified all night. And she's been sick for the last couple of days. I slept in the tent with the boys.” She liked hearing that, and then hated herself for it. She'd been praying about it for two weeks, and had gotten nowhere. She had even spoken to a priest, out of the confessional, and told him about her feelings for Brad. He had told her to pray to Saint Jude, and said that miracles occurred, which only confused her more. The only miracle she needed was to stop having the feelings she did for him. She needed to find the peaceful haven of only being his friend again. She couldn't allow herself to feel more than that, and so far, Saint Jude hadn't helped. Her heart had taken a giant leap the moment she heard his voice. She had even said rosaries about it every day, but using the beads he'd given her, it only reminded her of him. It was her greatest inner battle these days. The outer ones were about the divorce. Alex was making life miserable for her. But she was getting used to it. And she had a piece of important news for Brad.
She let him tell her all about the trip, and then she smiled broadly as she told him she had a surprise.
“Let me guess.” He concentrated, reveling in just talking to her again. There was so much he had wanted to share with her, and he couldn't remember it all now. There was too much and he was too tired. “You got all A's at school, in your exams.”
“Yes, sort of. Actually I got an A minus and an A. But that's not it.”
“Ellie apologized and figured out that her father is a shit.”
“Not yet,” Faith said, sounding briefly sad.
“I don't know. Give me a hint.” But she was too excited to stop at that. She had known for ten days, and was dying to share it with him. She and Zoe had had dinner to celebrate the previous weekend.
“I got into law school at NYU.”
“Hurray! That's fantastic. Fred, I am so proud of you!”
“Me too! Isn't that neat?”
“It's terrific. I knew you would. What about Columbia?”
“I haven't heard yet. They send out their letters next week. But I'd rather go to NYU anyway. Besides, I'm already there. And it works for me.” They talked about it for a few minutes, and she brought him up to date on the divorce. Alex was still hassling her about the house, but he had already agreed to let her stay longer while they negotiated the settlement. She didn't want spousal support from him, although she could have had it. All she wanted was the house, outright, and some of their investments. In relation to what he had, she didn't want a lot. Her mother had left her enough to get by on. And in a few years she knew she'd be getting a decent salary as an attorney. Contrary to what Eloise believed, she was asking for very little. Even her attorney thought she should get more, but that wasn't Faith's style. As Brad knew only too well, she was decent to a fault.
They talked for nearly an hour, and finally, in spite of how much he loved talking to her, he started to yawn, and she told him to go to bed. He was leaving for San Francisco at noon the next day, and would be back home by six in the evening Faith's time. “I'll call or e-mail you when I get in.”
“Thanks for calling,” Faith thanked him. It had been an endless two weeks without him, but she had survived. And the good news about law school had buoyed her spirits, in spite of Alex's antics. She hadn't spoken to Eloise in over a week. It was getting harder and harder to talk. Ellie had entrenched herself in her father's camp. And what hurt Faith most, she had told Brad, was the way Alex had simply gouged her out of his life, as though she had never existed, never mattered, and never been his wife. He had simply erased her like so much chalk on a blackboard. He had wiped her off. And no matter how she explained it to herself, it still hurt. It made it difficult to imagine ever trusting anyone again. She couldn't even imagine a life with another man, or dating. All she wanted now was to lose herself in school, church, and her girls. And the only thing she had to do now was get her head on straight about Brad. She was determined to do it. Just as he was about her. No matter how deep their attraction to each other, and how unknown to each of them, they were absolutely determined to stay behind the boundaries of friendship. And each of them, in their endless efforts, were getting nowhere.