Dating Game (41 page)

“December first.”

“Shit. There goes Christmas. When were you going to tell me?” He looked even more upset at the prospect. His office was going to be in an uproar without her.

“When I know for sure. This may not be the one, but I hope it is. She's a lovely, wholesome girl, and she looks just like Meg, and me. But even if this comes through, I'm not going to leave you in the lurch over Christmas. I'd like maternity leave for a month or so, but I can take it in January, when things settle down. I'll let you know when I do, and we'll work it out.” He was still staring at her in disbelief, and Paris looked frighteningly calm. She was absolutely sure she was doing the right thing, and it showed. She hadn't had a qualm or a hesitation since she'd met Alice Harper.

“Paris, are you sure? This sounds like a crazy thing to do.”

“Believe me, it isn't. It's the first thing I've done in two and a half years that makes sense, except for coming to work for you. And I can do both. I didn't with Meg or Wim, but other women work.” And she was mature enough now to handle a job and a baby. She wasn't worried about that either. She had thought it all out. “So,” she asked, smiling at him across his desk, “are you going to congratulate me?” She was beaming, as he shook his head.

“No, I'm going to have you committed. I think it's time to call Sydney again, for another blind date. If I had thought that ending it with Jean-Pierre would lead to this, I would have either forced you to marry him, or shot him when he first came near you. I think this is a crazy thing to do. You need a husband, Paris, not a baby.” And in part that was true. Or at best, she could have had both. But not the way things were.

“The baby is enough. I don't need a husband, Bix. I had one. It was great. But that's over.”

“And you're just going to give up on men for the rest of your life? That's crazy.” He looked genuinely upset for her. It was such a terrible waste.

“If it's meant to be, it'll happen someday, maybe when I fall off a ladder and break my arm,” she said cryptically, and he looked confused.

“What does breaking your arm have to do with it?”

“That's how my lawyer met her husband. She broke her arm, he broke his toe, and they met in an emergency room.”

“How cute,” Bix said, still looking upset. She had given him a lot to digest. She came around the desk to give him a hug, and reassure him everything would be all right, and a few minutes later, Paris went back to her desk. Bix took a bottle of Valium out of his desk, started to open it, shook his head, muttered to himself, and put it back without taking one after all. At least he knew now, he reassured himself, that she wasn't going to quit. But adopting a baby sounded almost as bad to him.

Chapter 30

It was another week
before Alice called, and Meg was nearly home by then. But it wasn't good news. Jennifer, the birth mother, had chosen one of the couples instead, and Paris was surprised by how disappointed she was. It felt like the ultimate rejection.

“It works that way sometimes,” Alice said quietly. She knew how Paris felt. “When it's right, it will fall into place. You'll see. I have another option for you. I know you want a newborn, but I just want to run this by you. It never hurts to ask. We have a four-year-old in a Russian orphanage, alcoholic mother, unknown father, no HIV. She's been in the orphanage since she was two. There are two other siblings, and the Russians usually keep them together, but the couple who took them didn't want the little girl. She was scheduled to be adopted by an American family in Phoenix, and they backed out yesterday. The father has been diagnosed with a brain tumor, and they don't want to take on an adoption. So she's up for grabs. I have a picture of her I can e-mail to you. She looks very cute, but I know this wasn't what you had in mind.” Paris thought about it for a second and was about to say no, and then won

dered if this was fate, sending her this child.

“Can I think about it?” Paris asked cautiously.

“I'll send you the e-mail.” And when she did, Paris thought she had never seen a sweeter face. She sat and stared at it as Bix came into her office and looked too.

“Who's that?”

“A four-year-old in a Russian orphanage. She's available for adoption. The birth mother I saw doesn't want me.”

“Oh my God,” Bix said, and turned away from the photograph. “Tell me this isn't happening. Paris, I'll marry you myself if you stop this nonsense.” He was horrified by her adoption project, and said so whenever he got the chance.

“It's not nonsense,” she said, looking at him. She was so calm it frightened him. He had never seen her so determined. “And I don't want to get married. Except for you, I might make an exception. What about Steven? Should we adopt him?”

Bix stared at her, it was a nightmare happening, as far as he was concerned. “I need a Valium.”

“Do you want me to call your doctor?”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I have about four hundred of them in my office. Would you like one?”

“No, thanks, I'm fine.” And two hours later she called Alice and told her she had decided against the Russian orphan. She felt more comfortable about a newborn.

“I thought so. I just thought I'd ask. I think I have a lead on another birth mother for you, by the way. I'll know more in a few days. I'll call you.”

And that weekend Meg and Richard came back from their honeymoon and called her. She invited them to come up and visit. She wanted Wim to be there with them, but they said they were busy. And Bix and Paris had Halloween to contend with.

It was early November when they finally made it up. They decided to have early Thanksgiving with her, since they were flying east to spend it with Peter. And shortly after they arrived, Richard mentioned to her that Andrew said he had called her. Paris looked faintly embarrassed.

“I know. I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I never called him.” But she really didn't want to.

“I think he was afraid he had offended you. He's a hell of a nice guy,” Richard staunchly defended him.

“If he calls again, I'll talk to him. I promise.”

“I'll tell him.”

And after that they sat down to dinner, and had a traditional Thanksgiving meal. But there was nothing traditional about the look on their faces when Paris told them she wanted to adopt a baby. Both her children looked like they were going into shock.

“You what?” Meg stared at her, for the first time not willing to support her. “Mom, that's crazy. You're too old to have a baby.”

“That's possible,” Paris conceded, “although I'm not entirely sure of that either. But that's not what I have in mind. I want to adopt one. And I'm certainly not too old to take care of a baby. Women older than I am are having them by in vitro fertilization.” She defended her position, but so far hadn't convinced them.

“They have husbands.” Meg was almost shouting, and she was looking to Richard to be her ally. So far he had said nothing. And Wim looked horrified. His whole family was going crazy. His parents had divorced, his father had married a girl almost half his age, now they had a six-month-old baby, he had two stepbrothers, and now his mom wanted to adopt a baby. Neither he nor Meg was enthused by the project, and they made no bones about it.

“Single women adopt babies, and so do single men,” Paris said calmly.

“Let them,” Meg said childishly. “I think it's stupid for you to adopt a baby. Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I'm lonely,” Paris answered quietly, and both of her children stared at her. “You two are grown up, and have your own lives. I don't. Except for my job. You were my life. And I'm not your responsibility. I have to make my own life worthwhile. I want to have a baby, to love and take care of, and keep me company, until it grows up too. It doesn't mean I don't love both of you, of course I do. But I don't want to be alone either.” There was a deafening silence, and Richard looked at her with great compassion, as though they were the only two adults in the room, and he got it. He put an arm around his wife and tried to explain it to her.

“Your mom has a right to do anything she thinks is right to make her life better. It's not easy being alone. This is hard for her. And it would be a wonderful thing to do for a baby.”

“Why can't you just get married?” Meg asked plaintively.

“Because I can't, or I haven't,” Paris answered, “and I'm not going to sit here and wait for the Messiah to come and improve my lot in life. That's pathetic. I need to take responsibility for my own life,” Paris said, and Richard admired her for it.

“What if I have a baby? You won't even care about it, if you have your own,” Meg asked, sounding pathetic, and Paris smiled at her. In her own way, Meg was still a baby herself. And so was Wim. Alice had been right. This wasn't as easy as she had thought.

“Of course, I'll care about your baby, sweetheart. And I'll care about both of you, and all the children you have. But I need to do something to make my own life better, and this is what seems right to me.”

“It sounds pretty dumb to me,” Wim contributed. “Babies make a big mess.” He was seeing that with the half-sister Peter and Rachel had given him. Their baby seemed to scream all the time, and as far as Wim was concerned, every time he tried to play with her, she threw up, and Rachel got worried. It didn't sound like a terrific idea to him.

“Let's see what happens. I'll tell you both what I'm doing, and if a baby comes up. I just lost an opportunity recently, two actually. I turned one down, and the other one turned me down. This probably won't happen for quite a while,” she reassured them.

“How long?” Meg asked, as though she'd just been told she had to face a firing squad.

“Maybe a year, more or less.” All Meg could hope was that her mother would change her mind in the meantime.

And before they left on Sunday afternoon, Richard took a minute to talk to Paris alone. “Don't worry about Meg, Paris. She'll adjust. So will Wim. This is your life, and you have to do what's right for you. I admire what you're doing. It takes a lot of guts to take on a commitment like that at our age.” He was, after all, only a year older than she was, and had a different perspective than her daughter, even though they were married.

“You'd better not say that.” She smiled at him, grateful for his vote of confidence in her. “What if Meg has a baby?” She was hoping they would at some point, and from all they'd said, they intended to have children one day.

“That's different,” he said to his mother-in-law. “I'm a lot more cowardly than you. I don't think I could adopt one. That doesn't worry you?” he asked her openly, and she shook her head, feeling great affection for him. He was not only her son-in-law, he was becoming her friend.

“It doesn't worry me at all.”

Wim and Meg and Richard left on Sunday at the same time. It had been a turbulent weekend for all of them, but Paris was confident they'd calm down. And she knew Richard would help with Meg. And maybe even with Wim. He had promised to talk to him in a few days. God only knew what Peter would think of her plan when he heard of it. She wasn't counting on him to calm their children. He had his own life and problems, and his own baby they were somewhat hesitant about, because they still weren't sold on Rachel. And she had an unfailing knack for irritating them. She was a very strong woman, and she had broken up their parents' marriage, so she started out with two strikes against her in their eyes, if not three.

And as Richard and Meg drove away, he made a mental note to himself to say something to Andrew again. He still thought Andrew should call Paris, even if they only became friends. They seemed so much alike to him. And this time, if for no other reason than out of respect for her son-in-law, she had promised to take the call, if he did. There was no harm in it. She wasn't going to date him, but as Bix said, it was always good to have another friend.

Chapter 31

The following week
Andrew Warren called Paris again. He said he had come to town to work on a screenplay with one of his clients, who was having trouble modifying it, and he wondered if Paris had time for lunch. She remembered her conversation with Richard and her promise to him, so she agreed to see him that week when he got in. It was a courtesy lunch, if nothing else. He was, after all, her son-in-law's partner and friend, and she didn't want to seem rude, although she was frighteningly busy in the office. Christmas was coming. She almost canceled at the last minute when a new client came in to meet with Bix, and he threatened to throw Paris out of the office physically if she didn't go to lunch. He liked Andrew Warren a lot, and was convinced Paris would too, if she gave him a chance, even as a friend.

They met in a deli on Sacramento Street, which wasn't elegant, but it was quick, and she was embarrassed to tell him that she had very little time. But he seemed good-natured about it.

“I'm just happy to get out of my client's apartment. He's been staring at a blank sheet of paper for four weeks, and he says he's not coming out till he writes something. I feel like a psychiatric attendant. I may have to write it for him.” He laughed, finishing his coffee.

“Can you write it?” Paris looked impressed.

“Not really, but I will if it will get him going. I was actually thinking about a stun gun, just to jolt him a bit.”

“There's an idea.” She laughed, and told him about the Christmas parties they were doing, when he asked her. He was fascinated by their business.

“I don't know how you do it. When I invite friends over, we order Chinese food, and eat it out of the cartons.”

“Call Bixby Mason,” she teased. “We'll take care of it for you.”

“I'll bet you would. If Meg's wedding is any indication of what you two do, I'd say you throw a terrific party.” He smiled at her appreciatively.

“We try to,” she said blandly, thinking she had fulfilled her promise and didn't have to meet with him again.

He said he had to get back to his screenwriter then, and she had to get back to the office. It had been a pleasant interlude. He was very much like Richard, and she could see why they were partners. They were both easygoing, intelligent, unpretentious, and very good at their business. They both did a lot of hand-holding for their talent, which showed they had a nurturing nature. Paris couldn't think of a better husband for her daughter. Or maybe a friend for her in Andrew one day.