Dating Game (8 page)

“I'm so glad you like her,” Virginia said, sounding relieved. But she would have been surprised if she hadn't. She was a terrific woman, and the best gift she could give Paris after everything that had happened to her. “Are you seeing her again?”

“I am,” Paris admitted, sounding surprised. She hadn't planned to go back again. “Once anyway. We made an appointment for next week.” Hearing that made Virginia smile. That was how Anne had done it with her too. One appointment after another, until in the end she had gone for a year. And she had been back for “refreshers” several times since. Whenever a problem came up, she went to see Anne a few times to hash it out with her, and it always helped. It was nice just having an objective person to talk to sometimes, and someone to hang on to in a crisis.

The next time Paris saw her, she was surprised by a question the doctor asked her halfway through the session.

“Have you thought of moving to California?” She asked it as though it were a perfectly normal thing to do.

“No, I haven't. Why would I?” For a moment, Paris looked confused. It hadn't even occurred to her. They had lived in Greenwich since Meg was born, and she'd never thought of moving. She had established firm roots. Until recently. But even now, the house was hers, and she'd never thought of selling it. She was glad that Peter was giving it to her.

“Well, both your children live there. You might like living closer to them, and being able to see them more often. I just wondered if you'd thought of it.” But Paris only shook her head. She had no idea what either Meg or Wim would think of it. And the idea had never once occurred to her. She mentioned it to Meg on the phone that night, and she said she thought it was a great idea.

“Would you come to L.A., Mom?”

“I don't know. I didn't think I was going anywhere. This doctor I've seen a couple of times suggested it today.”

“What kind of doctor? Are you sick?” Meg sounded instantly concerned.

“A shrink actually.” Paris sighed, feeling embarrassed, but she never kept secrets from Meg. They were confidantes and had been for years. It was a relationship Paris cherished. It was easier talking to Meg than Wim, mostly because she was a girl, and that much older. “Virginia recommended her. I've only seen her twice. But I'm going again in a few days.”

“I think that's a very smart thing to do.” Meg wished her father would do the same, he had certainly screwed up everyone's life with no prior warning, and Meg was still wondering what had prompted it. He hadn't said anything about Rachel to either of his children yet, and wanted to let the dust settle first. Rachel said she was anxious to meet them, and Peter had promised her she would.

“She can't change anything,” Paris said, wondering what the point was of going to a psychiatrist. The divorce was going forward, and Peter was in love with another woman. There wasn't anything Anne Smythe could do to stem the tides or bring Peter back to her.

“No, but you can change things, Mom,” Meg said quietly. “What Daddy did was terrible, but now it's up to you what you make of it. And I think it would be terrific if you came out here. It would do you good.”

“How do you think Wim would feel about it? I don't want him to think I'm following him to school.”

“I think he'd probably like it, particularly if you were close enough for him to stay with you once in a while, and bring friends. I loved coming home to you when I was in college.” She laughed then at the memory of duffel bags full of laundry she'd brought home. “Particularly if you do his laundry for him. You should ask him when you talk to him.”

“I can't imagine leaving Greenwich. I don't know anyone out there.”

“You'd meet people. Maybe you should look for a place in San Francisco. Wim could come over and see you anytime he wants. And I can always go up on the weekends. I think it would do you good to get out of Greenwich, even if you only do it for a year or two. You'd love it out here. The weather's great, the winters are easy, and we would see a lot more of you, Mom. Why don't you think about it?”

“I can't just walk away and leave this house,” she said, resisting the idea. But it came up again in her next session with Dr. Smythe, and she told her what Meg had said when she'd mentioned it. “I can't believe it. She actually liked the idea. But what would I do out there? I don't know anyone. Everyone I know is here.”

“Except Wim and Meg,” Anne Smythe said quietly. She had planted a seed and was waiting for it to take hold and grow. She was counting on Paris's children to water it. And if it was the right thing for Paris, she would nurture the seed herself. And if not, there were other things she could do to climb out of the hole she'd been in since Peter left. Anne was planning to help her discover and explore all her options for a better life.

They talked about a vast number of things, her childhood, the early years with Peter, the years she had so loved when the children were small, her friends, the MBA program she'd been so successful at and done nothing with. And in late July they talked about Paris getting a job. She was comfortable with Anne by then, and she liked the time they spent together. It always gave her something to think about when she left and went back to the silent house. Paris was still avoiding her friends. She wasn't ready to see them yet.

It was a lonely summer for her, with Wim gone, and Meg in Los Angeles. She and Peter had come to an agreement about the settlement. She was getting the house, as Peter had promised, and a respectable amount of support. He'd been generous with her, to buy off his conscience, and she didn't have to work. But she wanted to do something. She didn't want to just sit around for the rest of her life, particularly if she was going to be alone, which she assumed she would. Anne Smythe tried to talk to her from time to time about going out with men, and Paris didn't want to hear about it. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was date. It was a door she refused to open. She didn't even want to peek inside, and Anne always let it go, but she continued to suggest it from time to time.

The only people Paris saw that summer were Virginia and Natalie. She didn't go to any dinner parties or social events. She had no desire to go anywhere, except lunch with her two friends occasionally, but by August she was looking better again. She had been working in the garden, reading a lot, and sleeping less during the day, and better at night. She had a deep tan, and had never looked better, although she was still very thin. But by the time Wim came home from Europe, she looked more herself again, and he was relieved to see a familiar twinkle in her eye when she picked him up at the airport and threw her arms around him. He had been very good about calling her, and he had had a fantastic time in France, Italy, England, and Spain, and all he could talk about was going back again next year.

“I'm going with you, if you do,” she warned him, with a look of mischief in her eye, which delighted him. She had looked like a dead person when he left. “You were gone for way too long. I don't know what I'm going to do when you go away to school.” And then she told him about the suggestion Anne Smythe had made, about moving to California. Paris was curious about his reaction.

“Would you really move?” He looked startled by the idea, and not as enthusiastic as she'd hoped at first. Meg had been much more excited about it. He was looking forward to being independent when he went away to college, and he had visions of her bringing his lunch to him on campus in the little Batman lunch box he'd had when he was in first grade. “Would you sell this house?” It was the only home he had ever really known, and he hated that possibility too. He liked thinking of her in the home he loved, waiting for him, just as he had imagined her all summer while he trotted around Europe.

“No. If I did anything, I'd rent it, but I'm not even sure I'd do that. It's just a crazy notion I had.” She wasn't sold on the idea herself.

“How'd you come up with that?” he inquired, looking intrigued.

“My shrink suggested it,” she said blithely, and he stared at her.

“Your shrink? Are you okay, Mom?”

“Better than I was when you left,” she said calmly, and smiled at him. “I think it helps.”

“Whatever works,” he said valiantly, and then mentioned it to his sister that night on the phone. “Did you know Mom was going to a shrink?”

“Yes, I think it's done her a lot of good,” Meg said sensibly. Her mother had seemed less depressed in the last two months since she had started seeing Anne Smythe, which Meg thought was a good thing.

“Is Mom losing it?” he asked, sounding worried, and his sister laughed.

“No, but she has a right to, after what Dad did to her.” She was still angry at her father for disrupting all their lives, and Wim didn't like it either. “A lot of people would have lost it after a shock like that. Did you call Dad while you were in Europe?” He had, but his father hadn't had much to say. He had called his mother more often, and his sister frequently. But most of the time, he just had fun with his friends.

“Do you think she'll really move to California?” Wim was still surprised by the idea, but he could see some benefits in it, as long as she didn't turn up in Berkeley constantly. He was still concerned about that.

“Maybe. It would be a big change for her. I'm not sure she really wants to, I think she's just playing with the idea right now. What do you think?” Meg was curious about his reaction.

“It might be okay,” he said cautiously.

“It would be a lot better for her than sitting around in Greenwich in an empty house by herself. I hate to think of her sitting there alone after you leave.”

“Yeah, me too.” It made him think about what that would be like for his mother, and he didn't like that either. “Maybe she should get a job and meet some people,” he said thoughtfully.

“She wants to, she just doesn't know what to do.

She's never really worked. She'll figure it out eventually. The shrink will help.”

“I guess.” He was still surprised by that. He had never thought of his mother needing anyone to solve her problems, but he had to admit, she had had her share of surprises in the last three months. It had been a big adjustment for him too. It felt strange to come home and have his father not be there. He drove into the city to see him two days after he got home, and they went out to lunch. He introduced him to several lawyers in his office, including a girl who hardly looked older than Meg, and she had been very warm and friendly to him. He mentioned her to his mother when he got home, and she looked instantly stressed. All he could think of was that it upset her now to hear about his father, so he didn't say much about it after that.

Peter had promised to fly out to San Francisco, to help settle him in school. And Paris didn't look pleased about that either, although she didn't say anything to Wim. But she was planning to go out and settle him in the dormitory too. And having Peter there was going to be hard for her. But above all, she didn't want to make it a problem for Wim. And it didn't seem fair to Peter or Wim, to ask Peter not to come. But she discussed it with Anne the next time they met.

“Do you think you'll be able to handle being out there with him?” Anne asked her sympathetically, as they sat in her office peacefully one afternoon, and Paris looked uncertain as she considered it, and then finally looked at her, feeling stressed. Even thinking about it was hard.

“To be honest, I'm not sure. It's going to be so strange being there with Peter. Do you think maybe I shouldn't go?” Paris looked worried.

“How would your son feel about that?”

“I think he'd be disappointed, and so would I.”

“What about asking Peter to pass on it?” she suggested, and Paris shook her head. She didn't like that idea either.

“I think Wim would be sad if Peter doesn't go.”

“Well, you have my cell number. You can always call me, if things get tough. And you can always leave the dormitory, if it's too uncomfortable for you. You and Peter can agree to go there in shifts.” Paris hadn't thought of that, and she liked that as a fallback position if it was too awkward being there with him.

“How bad can it get?” Paris asked her hesitantly, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“That depends on you,” Anne said quietly, and for the first time, Paris realized that was true. “You have every right to walk away, if you want to. Or to not even go out there. I'm sure Wim would understand, if you don't think you can handle it. He doesn't want you to be unhappy either.” And she had been very, very unhappy, and he knew it, ever since Peter left.

“Maybe I'll look at houses while I'm there,” Paris said thoughtfully.

“That might be fun for you,” Anne said, encouraging her. Paris hadn't made any decision yet about moving west. It was just something they talked about from time to time, but she still thought she wanted to stay in Greenwich. It was familiar, and she felt safer there. She wasn't ready to make any drastic moves. But it was yet another option that she had. She hadn't solved the job issue yet either. And for lack of a better idea, she had signed up for volunteer work at a children's shelter in September. It was a start. It was all a process, a journey, rather than a destination, at this point. And for now, Paris still had no idea where she was going, or where she would land. Peter had tossed her out of the plane without a parachute three months before, and given everything that had happened, Anne told her that she thought she was doing well. She was getting up in the morning, combing her hair, getting dressed, seeing her two best friends for lunch occasionally, and she was bracing herself for Wim to leave for college. It was all she could manage for now.

He was leaving in three days, and Paris was going with him, the last time she saw Anne before the trip. She was braced to see Peter, and she kept telling herself she could handle it. And after she dropped Wim off at school, she was going to L.A. to see Meg. It was something to look forward to, and as she left Anne's office, Paris turned to look at her with a worried expression.

“Am I going to make it?” she asked, feeling like a frightened child, and the doctor smiled.

“You're doing fine. Call if you need me,” Anne reminded her again, and Paris nodded, and hurried down the stairs, as she left, reminding herself over and over again of what the doctor had said to her … you're doing fine… you're doing fine. The words echoed in her head. All she could do now was keep on going, and do the best she could, and hope she landed on her feet one day. It was the only choice Peter had left her when he threw her out of the plane. And one day, maybe, if she was very lucky, and the fates were smiling on her, her parachute would open finally. She wasn't even sure yet if she was wearing one, and all she could do was pray she was. But there was no sign of a parachute yet. The wind was still whistling past her head at a terrifying rate.