Bittersweet

CHAPTER 7

FOR THE next two days, India kept busy with the kids, and she developed the photographs she'd taken on the boat with Sam. She dropped them off for Paul. He'd been off the boat somewhere with his friends, and she didn't see him. And then, much to her surprise, he called her. He said that Dick Parker had given him the number.
“How's it going?” He had a deep, resonant voice that sounded wonderfully familiar to her. They had talked for so long that she felt comfortable with him now, like an old friend, and it was good to hear him.
“Fine. Busy. Dropping the kids off to tennis, and hanging out on the beach with them. The usual. Nothing very exciting.”
“I loved the pictures. Thank you.” She had included a great one of Sam, and he had sat and smiled at it for a long time, remembering the day they had spent together. For the whole day afterward, he'd really missed him. “How's my friend Sam?” They both smiled when he asked her.
“He talks about you all the time. We've heard about nothing from him but the Sea Star.”
“His brother and sisters must be ready to kill him.”
“No, they just figure he made it all up. I don't think any of them really believe him.”
“Maybe you should bring them down and show them.” But when they talked about it, there was no time. The next day he had to go to Boston to pick up Serena. He said they had plans on the Fourth, and the day after they were sailing back to New York. And for no reason she could explain, India felt sad as she listened to him, and knew she was being foolish. He had a life, an empire he ran, a whole world he had to return to, and a wife who was an international bestselling author, and a star in her own right. There was no room in his life for a married housewife in Westport. What would he do? Drive up to have lunch with her? Like one of Gail's rendezvous in Greenwich? Just thinking of it made her shudder. Nothing about what she thought of him was anything like that.
“When do you leave for France?” she asked, sounding wistful.
“In a few weeks. I'm going to send the boat over before that. It takes them about eighteen days to get there. We usually go to the Hotel du Cap around the first of August. That's Serena's idea of hardship travel in a third world country.” But he said it without malice, and they both laughed.
It was a far cry from the kind of places she and Paul had both been to in their past lives, but there was nothing wrong with Cap d'Antibes either. India knew she would have loved it. “I'll call you before we leave. It would be wonderful if you could come back to the boat, and meet Serena. Maybe for breakfast or something.” He didn't tell her that Serena got up at noon, and stayed up until three or four in the morning, usually working. She said she did her best writing after midnight.
“I'd like that,” India said quietly. She would have loved to see him again, and meet his wife. She would have liked a lot of things, most of them both impossible and unimportant. This was the first time she had felt this way about any man since meeting Doug twenty years before, when they were in the Peace Corps. But this time, her feelings traveled in the guise of friendship.
“Take care of yourself, and Sam,” he said, in a voice that was suddenly husky. He felt oddly protective of her, and the child, and didn't know why. Maybe it was just as well Serena was coming. She had called him from L.A. to herald her arrival only that morning. “I'll call you.”
She thanked him for calling then, and a moment later, after they hung up, she sat staring at the phone in silence. It was odd to think that he was so nearby, in his own World, comfortably tucked in to his life on the Sea Star. It was a lifetime away from her own. In truth, although they had had a sympathy of souls, their lives had nothing in common, no shared borders. Meeting him at all had been an accident of sorts, a happenstance of destiny that could just as easily have never happened. But for her sake, and Sam's, she was glad that she had met him.
She lay in bed quietly that night, thinking of him, remembering the day they had shared, the conversations about her life, and what he thought she should do with it, and she couldn't help wondering if she would ever have the courage to do what he suggested. Just telling Doug she wanted to go back to work would cause a hurricane in their marriage.
She took a long walk down the beach the next day, thinking of all of it, with the dog at her heels, wondering what to do now. It would be easiest, it seemed, to retreat back into the life she'd led for fourteen years. But she was no longer entirely sure that she could do that. It would be like going back into the womb again, an impossibility no matter how much goodwill she applied to it. And now that she knew Doug didn't recognize the sacrifices she had made, she wasn't even sure she wanted to do it. If he didn't at least give her credit for it, why bother?
The next day was the Fourth of July. The kids slept late, and that afternoon, they went, as they always did, to the Parkers. The barbecue was in full swing, and all their neighbors were there. There were huge kegs of beer, and a long buffet table covered with the food the caterer had made this year. Nothing was burned, and it all looked delicious.
All of India's children were there, and she was talking to an old friend, when suddenly she saw Paul walk in, in white jeans, and a crisp blue shirt, with a tall, striking woman with long dark hair and a spectacular figure. She was wearing big gold hoop earrings, and India thought she had never seen anyone as beautiful as she watched her laughing. It was Serena. She was every bit as glamorous and poised and magnetic as India had thought she would be. Just watching her make her way through the crowd was mesmerizing. She was wearing a short white skirt, a white halter top, a gold necklace, and high-heeled white sandals. She looked right out of a magazine from Paris. And she had a kind of sexy elegance about her. As she approached, India could see that she was wearing a huge diamond ring, like an ice cube, on her left hand, and she stopped and said something to Paul, and he laughed. He looked happy to be with her. She was a woman you couldn't ignore or forget about, or lose in a crowd. Everyone seemed to turn and look at her, and some knew who she was. India watched her kiss Jenny and Dick, and she accepted a glass of white wine without even acknowledging the server. She looked as though she was totally accustomed to a life of luxury and service.
And as though sensing India watching her, Serena turned slowly in the crowd and looked right at her. Paul leaned over to say something to her then, and she nodded, and they made their way slowly toward her. She couldn't help wondering what Paul had said to her, how much he had told her. … I met this poor pathetic unhappy woman, who lives in Westport …she gave up her career fourteen years ago, and has had a diaper pail on her head ever since … be nice to her…. Just looking at Serena Smith, one knew that she would never be dumb enough to give up her identity or her career, or be treated as a “companion you can rely on to take care of the kids” by her husband. She was sexy and beautiful and sophisticated, she had great legs, and a fabulous figure. India felt like a total frump as Serena walked majestically toward her. And she felt breathless as Paul finally stood looking down at her, with a smile, and touched her shoulder. India could feel an electric current run through her when he did it.
“India, I'd like you to meet my wife …Serena Smith…. Darling, this is the fabulous photographer I told you about, who took all the great pictures I showed you. The mother of the young sailor.” At least he had told Serena about her. But India felt even more inadequate standing beside her. She had the most perfect smile she'd ever seen, and she looked fifteen years younger than Jenny, her college roommate. But Jenny hadn't worn makeup since she was eighteen, and Serena was put together like a model.
“I've been hoping I would meet you,” India said discreetly, afraid to sound like a simpering fan, but also not wanting to appear indifferent. “I read everything you wrote for a while, but my children keep me so busy I never have time to read anymore.”
“I can imagine. Paul said you have hundreds of them. But I can see why. The little guy in the pictures is gorgeous, and apparently quite a sailor.” She rolled her eyes then. “Whatever you do, stamp it out of him quickly. Never let him on a boat again. It's an insidious disease that rots the brain. And once it's too far gone, there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.” She was funny the way she said it, and India laughed in spite of herself, feeling a little disloyal to Paul as she did so. They had had such a good time with him on the Sea Star. “Boats are not my thing,” Serena confessed. “Paul may have told you.” India wasn't sure whether to admit it, as he disappeared to get himself a beer from one of the kegs Dick was presiding over.
“I have to admit, it's a wonderful boat,” India said graciously. “My little boy, Sam, just loved it.”
“It's fun,” Serena said blithely, “for about ten minutes.” And then she looked at India strangely, who prayed she wasn't blushing. What if she guessed how much India liked her husband, and how much she had said to him about her own life. It was easy to believe that Serena wouldn't have been too pleased to hear it. And it was always hard to gauge how much a husband told his wife, or vice versa. She and Doug had kept very few secrets from each other, in her case, only Gail's indiscretions, out of loyalty to her.
“I've been wanting to ask you a favor,” Serena said, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and India could just guess what it was…. Stay away from my husband…. She was feeling inordinately guilty. But he was an incredibly handsome man, and she had spent a day alone with him, telling him she was unhappy with her husband. In retrospect, it was embarrassing, particularly if he had told Serena. India was suddenly feeling very foolish. “Ever since I saw your photographs,” Serena went on, as India continued to dread what was coming, “I wanted to ask you a favor, if you have time. We're leaving sometime tomorrow, but I'm desperate for a new book cover photo, and I haven't had time to do anything about it. Any chance you could come over in the morning and take a few shots? I look like death in the morning, and you'll need a good retoucher. A blowtorch will do fine. Anyway, I saw how good your work was. I can never get a decent shot of Paul and you got dozens when he wasn't even looking. Usually, he makes the most godawful faces and looks like he's about to kill someone. So what do you say? I'll understand if it's not up your alley. Paul says you normally do war zones and revolutions and dead bodies.” India laughed with relief at the convoluted recital. Serena didn't seem in the least upset that India had been on the boat with Sam, and taken an indecent number of photographs of her husband. India was so relieved, she wanted to kiss her. Maybe he hadn't given away her secrets after all, at least she hoped not. Or maybe Serena felt too sorry for her to even care.
“Actually, I haven't done ‘war zones’ in seventeen years, and all I do now is Sam's soccer team, and newborn babies for my neighbors. I'd love to do it. And I'm very flattered that you asked me. I'm actually not that great at portraits. I was a news photographer, and now I'm just a mother.”
“I've never been either, and I'm impressed by both. If you want to come over about nine tomorrow, I'll try and drag myself out of bed and not spill my coffee all over my shirt before you arrive. I think just something simple in a white shirt and jeans will do it. I'm sick and tired of glamour shots. I want something more ‘real.’ “
“I'm incredibly flattered that you asked me,” India said again. “I just hope I can come up with something useful.” But she was sure to be an easy subject. She was so beautiful, and had such wonderful bone structure and lovely skin, it was hard to imagine having trouble taking her picture. India didn't even think it would need much retouching. She could hardly wait to do it, and she was happy to be going back to the Sea Star again. It was a chance to see Paul, even if Serena was with him. She was his wife, after all, and very much part of the picture.
The two women chatted for a little while, about the movie Serena was working on, her latest book, and their trip to the south of France in a few weeks, and even India's children.
“I don't know how you do it,” Serena said with admiration. “I never could imagine juggling children and a career, and I always thought I'd have been a dreadful mother. Even when I was twenty. I was never tempted once to have a baby. Paul wanted another child when he married me, but I was thirty-nine, and I was even less inclined to do it then. I just couldn't handle the responsibility, and the constant demands it must put on you, and the confusion.”
“I have to admit, I love it,” India said quietly, thinking of her children. Two of them were playing volleyball nearby while she talked to Serena. India respected her honesty, but she also realized that they couldn't have been more different. Everything Serena was, she wasn't, and vice versa. India was far more down to earth and direct and without any kind of artifice or pretense. Serena was far more artful and manipulative, and in her own way more aggressive. But much to her own surprise, India liked her. She had somehow hoped she wouldn't. But she could see now why Paul loved her. Serena was so powerful that being with her was like riding a Thoroughbred stallion. She was anything but easygoing, and it didn't bother her in the least to be called difficult. She loved it. The only similarity they shared was that they were both very feminine, but in entirely different ways.
India was soft in all the places Serena was hard, and strong in all the ways Serena wasn't. But the shadings in India's character were far more subtle, and that had intrigued Paul. There was very little mystery to Serena, she was all about strength and power and control. India was all about softness and kindness, and far more compassionate and humane. It had struck Paul when they sat and talked for hours on the boat.
Paul came back to talk to them eventually, and he stood for a moment, admiring their contrasts. It was almost like seeing the two extremes that women came in, and if he had dared, he would have admitted that both of them fascinated him in very different ways, and for a variety of reasons.
He was almost relieved when Sam came up to them, and India introduced him to Serena. He shook her hand politely, but he looked uncomfortable while he was talking to her, and it was obvious that Serena had no idea how to talk to children. She spoke to him as though he were a very short man, and the jokes she made in front of him fell on deaf ears. He had no idea whatsoever of their meaning.
“He's awfully cute,” she said when he went back to his friends. “You must be very proud of him.”
“I am,” India said, smiling.
“If he ever disappears, you'll know where to find him, India. Paul will be sailing to Brazil with him in the dinghy.”
“He'd love that,” India said, laughing.
“The trouble is, they both would. But at Paul's age,it's pathetic. Men are such children, aren't they? They're all babies. At best, they grow up to be teenagers, and whenever they don't get their way, they get bratty.” Listening to her made her think of Doug, but not Paul. There was nothing “bratty” about him. He seemed incredibly mature and very wise to her, and she had been very grateful for the advice he'd given her when they last spoke.
They talked for a few more minutes, and confirmed their plans for the next morning, and then Serena wandered off to talk to Jenny for a few minutes before they left, and India went to check on her children, who seemed to be having a great time.
It was late when India and the children got home that night, and everyone was happy and tired. She told Sam then that she was going to meet the Wards at the boat the next morning and asked if he wanted to come with her.
“Will Paul be there?” he asked sleepily with a yawn, and when she said he would, Sam said he was coming. She invited the others to join them too, but they said they'd rather sleep in. The Sea Star was Sam's passion, and they were satisfied to leave it to him. She was only disappointed that the others hadn't seen it, and she knew that if they ever did, they would love it.
She woke Sam up, as she had before, early the next morning, and gave him cereal and toast before they left so he didn't have to bike to the yacht club on an empty stomach. But as soon as they got to the yacht, Paul was waiting for them, and offered them both pancakes. Serena was still in the dining room, drinking coffee. And she looked up when they walked in. Contrary to her warning the day before, India thought she looked fabulous, even at breakfast. She was wearing a starched white shirt, and immaculately pressed jeans, with rubber-soled loafers, and her hair was combed to perfection. She wore it straight and long, and had pulled it back with an elastic. She had a good, clean look, with just enough makeup to enhance her looks but not overwhelm them.
“Ready for action?” she asked India when she saw her.
“Yes, ma'am.” India smiled, as Sam sat down to a plate of waffles, and Paul sat down beside him.
“I'll keep Sam company,” Paul volunteered. It wasn't a sacrifice for him, it was obvious just looking at him how much he liked him. “We'll go out in the dinghy or something.”
“How depressing,” Serena said, and meant it, as she went out on deck and India followed. And the rest of the morning flew by like minutes.
India took half a dozen rolls of film, and she was certain they had gotten some really good pictures. She was pleased to find that Serena was an easy subject.
Serena chatted amiably, and told funny stories about things that had happened on her movie sets in Hollywood and famous authors she knew and the outrageous things they had done. India enjoyed hearing about them. And when they were finished, Serena invited her to stay for lunch, with Sam of course. They had decided not to leave for New York that day, and were planning to leave the following morning.
They ate sandwiches on deck, which Serena said she preferred to the dining room, which she found pretentious and claustrophobic. India had found it anything but, but it was also pleasant eating in the open air, and Paul and Sam came back with the dinghy when the women were almost finished.
“Did you save anything for us?” Paul asked as they joined them on deck. “We're starving!” And they looked it.
“Just crusts,” Serena said cheerfully, but one of the stewards was quick to take Paul's order. He ordered club sandwiches for himself and Sam, with potato chips, and pickles, he added, remembering Sam's fondness for them.
He said they'd had a good sail, and Sam seconded the opinion with a huge grin. He didn't tell his mother that they'd both fallen in, and Paul had righted the little boat again very quickly, but she had seen it, and also that Paul had resolved the problem very swiftly.
After they finished their sandwiches, India said they had to get home to see what her family was doing. And she wanted to get to work on Serena's pictures in the darkroom.
“I'll send you proofs in a few days,” she promised Serena as she stood up. “You can see what you think of them,” she said modestly.
“I'm sure I'll love them. If you make me look half as good as you did Paul, I'm going to use them as wallpaper in our apartment. And hell, I'm better-looking than he is.” She chuckled and India laughed with her. She was a character, and it was easy to see why he liked her. She certainly wasn't boring. She was full of spice and vinegar, and wicked little stories about famous people. Who had said what and done what to whom. Listening to her all morning had been like listening to a gossip column about celebrities. And aside from that, she was not only beautiful, but incredibly sexy. India really liked her, and couldn't help but be impressed by her.
India thanked Serena then for the opportunity to take pictures of her, and Paul for taking such good care of Sam while they were busy.
“He took care of me,” Paul said with a smile, and then he bent to give Sam a hug, and the boy returned it with vigor. “I'll miss you,” Paul said, feeling sad to see him go, but not half as sad as Sam was. He would never forget his days on the Sea Star. “One of these days, you'll have to take a little trip with me,” he promised him, “if your mom will let you. Would you like that, Sam?”
“Are you kidding?” He beamed. “I'll be there!”
“That's a deal then.” And then Paul turned and hugged India. He felt as though he were losing old friends as they walked down the gangway to the dock, and the entire crew waved at Sam as they left. He had won everyone's hearts in the short time he'd been there. They all loved him.
On the way home, India was lost in her own thoughts, and fell off her bike, as she often did when she didn't pay attention.
“Mom, what happened?” Sam looked mildly exasperated as he helped her up. She always did that, but she hadn't gotten hurt and she was smiling at her own awkwardness, and feeling silly as Sam grinned at her. Being on the boat together and sharing its magic had suddenly made them even closer.
“I'm going to have to get one of those geriatric bikes with three wheels for next year,” she said, dusting herself off.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He laughed, and then, as they rode off again, they were both quiet on the way home. They were both thinking about the boat, and the people they had met there. They were impressed with Paul, but India saw him differently now that she knew Serena. Seeing them together brought things back into perspective, about how married he was and what was important in his life.
When she got home, she went straight to her darkroom. And as she worked on the photographs, she was thrilled with what she saw. The pictures of Serena were fantastic. She looked gorgeous, and India was sure she would love them. There was even a nice one of her with Paul, when he came back from his ride in the dinghy. He was draped over the back of her chair, and they both looked very glamorous with the mast above and the ocean behind them. They made a very handsome couple. And India could hardly wait to send her the pictures.
She sent them to New York by Federal Express the next morning, and Serena called her the minute they arrived.
“You're a genius,” the throaty voice said, and for an instant India didn't know who it was. “I wish I really looked like those pictures.” She knew then it was Serena, and smiled.
“You look better. Do you really like them?” India was thrilled. She was proud of them, but Serena had been an easy subject.
“I love them!” Serena confirmed with admiration.
“Did you like the one of you and Paul?”
“I didn't get it.” Serena sounded momentarily puzzled, and India was disappointed.
“Damn. I must have forgotten to send it. I think I left it in the darkroom. I'll send it to you. It's terrific.”
“So are you. I talked to my publisher this morning, and they'll pay you for using the photographs, and of course, a credit.”
“Don't worry about it,” India said shyly. “They're a present. Sam had such a good time with Paul, it's just a little thing I can do to thank you.”
“Don't be ridiculous, India. This is business. What would your agent say?”
“What he doesn't know won't hurt him. I'll tell him I did them for a friend. I don't want you to pay me.”
“You're hopeless. You're never going to get your career going again if you give your work away. You spent a whole morning on it, and then you had to develop them. You're a terrible businesswoman, India. I should be your agent. I can't even decide which one to pick, they're all so good.” Serena went on. She was dying to show them to Paul, who was still at the office. “I'll call you and tell you which one. I wish I could use all of them, India. Really, thank you. But I wish you'd let me pay you.”
“Next time,” India said confidently, hoping there would be one. And after she hung up, she meant to look for the picture of Serena and Paul and then forgot all about it when Aimee came in with a splinter, and she had to remove it.
The next few days flew by, and then finally Doug arrived for the weekend. It was nearly two weeks since she'd seen him. He seemed happy to see the kids, and he was tired after the long drive. And as he always did, he took a swim before dinner. All of the children were home for dinner that night so he could see them. But they went back out to see their friends after dinner as soon as they could. They loved to play tag on the beach in the dark, and tell ghost stories, and visit each other's houses.
The Cape was the perfect place for them, and as he watched them dash out the door, Doug smiled. He was happy to be there. It was the first time India had been alone with him since he got there. They sat in the living room, and India felt awkward suddenly. So much had gone through her mind since she last saw him. Not to mention meeting Paul Ward, and the time she and Sam had spent on the Sea Star, and the pictures she had taken of Serena. There should have been a lot to tell him, but for some reason, she found she didn't want to. She was less anxious than she usually was to share things with him. It was as though she needed to keep something for herself now.
“So what have you been up to?” He said it as though meeting an old friend he hadn't seen since the previous summer. There had been nothing cozy or warm about his greeting, and she realized now there never had been. It was just that now she was noticing everything she had never paid attention to before. She wondered when things had changed between them.
“Not much. The usual stuff.” She had talked to him often enough to hit all the high spots. “The kids are having a good summer.”
“I can't wait to come up next month and stay here,” he said easily. “It's been hot as hell in Westport, and worse yet in the city.”
“How are all your new clients?” It was like talking to an acquaintance.
“Time consuming. I've been staying in the office till nine and ten at night. With you and the kids gone, I don't have to run for the six o'clock train. It makes it a little easier to get my work done.” She nodded, thinking it was a pathetic conversation.
After two weeks apart, they ought to be able to talk about more than his clients and the heat in the city. Not once since he'd arrived had he told her that he'd missed her or loved her. She couldn't even remember the last time he had said something like that to her. And all she could think of now was why she hadn't expected him to say it to her more often. She couldn't help wondering if Paul and Serena's reunions were as lackluster as this, and she doubted it. Serena wouldn't have tolerated it for a minute. Everything about her expressed and commanded passion. But there was nothing passionate about India's relationship with Doug now. In fact, there hadn't been in nearly twenty years. It was a depressing realization.
They waited until the kids came in, talking about nothing in particular, and Doug put the TV on. And when Jessica came home, they turned off the lights and went to bed. India took a shower, assuming he would want to make love to her, and when she came out in a nightgown she knew he liked, she found he was sleeping. He was sound asleep, snoring softly, with his face buried in the pillow. And as she looked at him, feeling lonely again, she realized it was an appropriate end to the evening. And it made a statement about their life together that nothing else could have.
She slipped into bed quietly, without disturbing him, and it took her a long time to fall asleep that night, as she cried softly in the moonlight, and wished that she were anywhere but here, beside her husband.