Bittersweet

CHAPTER 9

DOUG ONLY called her a couple of times in the next two weeks until he came up again. And when he did, the atmosphere was strained between them. He made no reference to what had happened the last time, and neither did India. But she had done a lot of thinking about her marriage, and she'd been tempted to call Raoul, her agent, to put her name at the top of the list for local work, but she had decided to wait until the end of the summer to call him. She wanted to explore the possibilities in her mind, and the risks, and the potential impact on her children. And she needed to talk to Doug again. They had some things to work out, now more than ever. But she didn't want to do anything hasty. She still wanted to go back to work, but the stakes were high, and she wanted to be sure she knew what she was doing.
Doug didn't even try to make love to her and he scarcely spoke to her all weekend. He acted as though she had committed an unpardonable transgression against him. And on Sunday after he left, Jason looked at her with eyes fall of questions. He was the closest to his father.
“Are you mad at Dad?” he asked her directly while he helped her set the table.
“No. Why?” She didn't want to say anything to the children about their earlier conversation. They didn't need to know about the chill between them. There was no point upsetting them. It had been hard enough spending the weekend with Doug virtually not speaking to each other.
“You never talked to him all weekend.”
“I guess I was just tired. And he had a lot of work to finish up before he comes back for his vacation.” He was coming back to stay for three weeks the following weekend, and she was no longer looking forward to it. But maybe it would do them good. She hoped so. She still couldn't believe he was willing to put their marriage on the line just because she wanted to do a few stories. It hardly seemed worth it. But she was also not willing to promise him that she wouldn't do them. That seemed too unfair to her. It all did.
Jason seemed satisfied with her answer, and went back out to meet friends on the beach, and he brought two of them home for dinner. But even their meal was quiet that night. It was as though they all sensed that something was wrong, although they didn't really know it. But children were like animals sometimes, without knowing things, they sensed them. She was lying in bed reading that night, when the phone rang. She wondered if it was Doug, calling to apologize for another lousy weekend. At least this time there had been no threats, no ultimatums, and no explosions. Only silence and depression.
She reached for the phone, expecting to hear Doug, and was startled instead to hear Paul Ward. His voice was so clear he sounded as though he were standing in her bedroom.
“Where are you?” she asked, surprised to hear him. She couldn't imagine why he was calling, unless he was coming back up to the Cape, and wanted to invite Sam to join him, as he had promised. Sam was prepared to remember that promise forever.
“I'm on the boat. It's four o'clock in the morning, and we're coming into Gibraltar. I decided to make the crossing to Europe on the Sea Star” It sounded very brave to her, but she knew that he had done it often and loved it. He had told Sam all about it over lunch at the New Seabury yacht club.
“That sounds pretty exciting.” India smiled, hearing him. He sounded so happy on his boat, sailing across the ocean. “I assume Serena isn't with you?”
He laughed at her question. She had already known the answer to that one. “No, she's in London, meeting with her British publishers. She flew over on the Concorde. What about you? How are you?”
“I'm fine.” She wondered if she should tell him the truth, about her fight with Doug, and his ultimatum two weeks before. She knew he'd be upset for her. “What's it like out there?”
“Wonderful. Peaceful. We've had great weather and an easy crossing.”
“You'll have to tell Sam all about it.” She still wondered why he had called her. Particularly at four in the morning his time. Maybe he was just bored, and wanted someone to talk to.
“I was thinking about you. I was wondering how you are, and how your plan to go back to work was going. Have you talked about it any more with your husband?”
“I have,” she sighed, “two weeks ago. He hasn't spoken to me since then. He was just here, and we had a very chilly weekend, and I don't mean the weather.” It was nice to be able to talk to him. For some reason, he felt like an old friend, although she wasn't sure why. But Gail was still in Europe and there was no one else she wanted to confide in. “He more or less said that if I go back to work, at all, he'd leave me. Or at least he hinted at it. He said it was a deal-breaker for him.” She sounded discouraged as she said it.
“And what about for you, India? How do you feel about it?”
“Pretty lousy. He just doesn't want to know how I feel about it. I don't know, Paul … I think he means it. It's a big decision, and it may not be worth it.”
“And if you give in to him? How will you feel about it?” He sounded as though he cared about what was happening to her, and she was touched by it.
“I think I'll feel kind of dead inside if I back down,” she answered him. “But losing my marriage is a high price to pay for a little self-esteem and some independence.”
“You have to make that decision, India. No one else can make it for you. You know what I think.”
“I know what Serena would do,” India said with a rueful smile. “I wish I were as gutsy as she is.”
“You are in your own way. You just don't know it.”But in her heart of hearts, India knew she wasn't. Serena wouldn't have put up with Doug for five minutes, but she wouldn't have married him either. India had, and now she had to I've with it. But the thought of letting him threaten her depressed her. He wasn't giving her much to go on these days, no warmth, no understanding, no support and no affection. And she realized now that he hadn't in a long time. They had just been involved in the mechanics of raising their children. And suddenly that wasn't enough any longer. “How's my friend Sam?” Paul asked her then, and they both smiled as they thought of him.
“Sound asleep right this minute. He's been having fun with his friends, and telling everyone about the Sea Starr
“I wish he were here with me. … I wish you were too,” he said in an odd tone, which ran the same current of electricity through her she had felt before when talking to him. There was something powerful about him, and she wasn't sure what he was saying, or why he was calling. He wasn't making any kind of overt pass at her, and she somehow knew that he wouldn't. But she also sensed that he liked her. “You'd love the crossing. I just know it. It's so peaceful.” It was one of his favorite things to do. He read and slept, and took the watch whenever he felt like it, as he had just done. It was why he had called her at that ungodly hour. But he had been thinking of her all night, as he looked out over the ocean, and finally decided to call her. “We'll be going to the south of France in a few days. But I have to do some business in Paris first. Serena is going to fly over to meet me. Paris is just her cup of tea. Mine too,” he confessed. It was one of his favorite cities.
“I haven't been there in ages'. India said dreamily, remembering the last time she'd been there. She'd been very young and stayed at a youth hostel. She was sure he stayed someplace like the Ritz or the Plaza Athenee or the Crillon. “Where do you stay?”
“At the Ritz. Serena loves it. I sometimes stay at the Crillon. But she prefers the Ritz. I'm not sure I can tell the difference. I don't speak French, she does, of course. I always feel like a fool trying to talk to cabdrivers and negotiate my way around Paris. Do you speak French, India?”
“Enough to get around and feed myself. But not enough to make intelligent conversation. I actually learned a lot when I spent six weeks in Morocco once, but my French friends all made fun of my accent. But at least I can get by in a taxi, or at the press club.”
“Serena spent a year at the Sorbonne. She speaks amazing French.” Serena was, in every possible way, a tough act to follow. More than tough. Impossible. But no one was ever going to follow in her footsteps. It was easy to see that they were crazy about each other. “When do you go back to Westport, by the way?”
“Not till the end of August.” They didn't have a lot to talk about, but it was nice just listening to him, and knowing where he was, at four o'clock in the morning. “The kids have to go back to school then. And I have to get them organized.” He laughed at the thought of it. He wanted something more for her, and hoped she would have the courage to reach out and take it. “How long will you be in Europe?”
“I'll Labor Day. But Serena has to go back to L.A. before that. I'm not sure she minds. She builds herself outs, so she doesn't have to stay anywhere for too long. She's very independent, and she gets antsy, particularly on the boat.”
“She'd hate it here then. I don't do anything but lie on the beach all day, and come up to the house at six o'clock to cook dinner.”
“It sounds like the good life to me, and the kids must love it.”
“They do. But life is a lot more fun on the Sea Star, believe me. That seems like the perfect existence.”
“It is. For the right people. You have to really love that life, being on boats, sailing and being out on the ocean. I think it's either in your blood or it isn't. It's not an acquired taste for most people. You fall in love with it early, like I did. I was about Sam's age when I first realized how much I loved it.”
“I never knew how wonderful it was until we sailed on your boat. It's an incredible way to start. I'm afraid you've spoiled me forever. Not to mention Sam, who'll never want anything less now.”
“Oh yes, he will. He's a real sailor like me. He even loved the dinghy. That's the true test, and he passed it with flying colors.”
“I think I'll stick to the big ones.”
“That's probably a good decision. There'll be a lot of beautiful boats here, especially some lovely classics. One of these days, I'm going to buy one. Serena will probably divorce me when I do it. One boat is bad enough, but two boats? I don't think I'd have the guts to tell her.” He laughed at the prospect.
“She probably expects it of you,” India said, laughing. It was so good to hear him, and talk to him. If she closed her eyes, she could just see him standing on the deck of die Sea Star, with Sam beside him, or talking to her in the cockpit, while Sam chatted with the captain. They had had such a terrific day when they sailed with him.
He told her then about the races he was going to in Sardinia, and the people he was going to see, the Aga Khan among them.
“It's a shame you travel in such shabby circles, Paul,” India teased him. “It's a long way from Westport.”
“So is Botswana, and you need to get back there,” he pushed her. He could sense that she still needed encouragement and prodding. Maybe now more than ever, with her husband threatening her. It was so rotten of him to do that. Paul hated to think of her wasting her talent, but he suspected easily that Doug was threatened. He didn't want India to have a more interesting life than he did. It would make his life seem meaningless and boring. Paul couldn't help wondering if Doug was jealous of her.
“Sometimes I wonder if I'll see any of those places again,” she said sadly. “I can't even get Doug to Europe.”
“I wish you were here with us. I know you'd love it. By the way, I saw the mock-up of Serena's book cover with die picture you took on it. It looks fantastic.”
“I'm glad. It was fun to do it.” India smiled, thinking of the morning she had spent with her.
They talked for a few more minutes, and she thought he sounded tired. It was late for him.
“I'd better go now,” he said after a few more minutes of chatting with her. “We have a little navigating to do. We're getting closer. And the sun will be coming up soon.” She could just imagine him on the boat, talking to her, as they approached Gibraltar. It sounded exquisitely exotic. And very romantic. “I suppose you'll be going to sleep now.” He liked thinking of her there, in her quiet life on Cape Cod. It seemed wonderfully peaceful, and he was glad he had been there to meet her. “Think about the Sea Star, and hopefully, one of these days, you and Sam will be on it again.”
“I can't think of anything nicer.”
“I can,” he said, and there was a sudden silence between them. She didn't know what to say then. She was glad she had met him, and she valued the friendship he offered her. Enough not to jeopardize it, or say anything foolish she'd regret. But he didn't say anything more to her either. They both knew better.
She thanked him for calling, and they hung up a moment later. And she did exactly as he had suggested. She lay in bed and thought of him sailing toward Gibraltar on the Sea Star. She imagined it all lit up as it had been when it drifted past her house that night when he'd been there, looking like a magic island filled with dreams and happy people. And now she could see him on the bridge, alone in the dark just before the dawn, heading toward Gibraltar. But she didn't dream of Paul that night, or his pleasant life on the Sea Star. Instead, she had nightmares about Doug, and he was shouting at her. That was her reality, and the one she had to resolve or live with. For her, the Sea Star was nothing more than a dream, a distant star in someone else's heaven.