Precious Gifts (12 page)

They went back to their separate rooms at the hotel and the next day continued their pilgrimage to admire art. They did all the important galleries and went back to the Uffizi, and after five days steeped in art in Florence, they agreed that they had done it, and there was nothing left that they wanted to see again. Aidan looked at her over lunch.

“What do we do now?” he asked her. He still had several weeks before he had to go to Berlin. And he had no desire to leave her. In spite of their occasional philosophical disagreements, they were having a wonderful time together. And from strangers initially, they had become friends.

“I don't know. I suppose I could check in with my children. Two of them are coming over here, and I ought to find out when.”

“Why are they coming to meet you? Just for a vacation?”

“No, I rented a house in St. Tropez earlier this summer, and none of them showed up. They have busy lives. They're coming over on family business, just for a few days.” He could see the loneliness in her eyes as she said it. She had been alone now for a long time, with no one to spend time with, and no one to love her, even if she did have three daughters. They were no longer part of her daily life. It brought the point home to him of just how solitary she was. And he suspected it was harder for her than she let on.

She called Timmie that night—it was afternoon for her, and she was busy in her office. Timmie didn't ask where she was or how she'd been—she assumed she was in Paris. Véronique tried to reach Juliette, and she never answered. And the message on Joy's voice mail said she would be busy shooting a commercial all week and didn't have time to return calls.

“When do you think the girls are coming to look at the château?” She thought Timmie might know, even if she wasn't planning to come herself.

“I don't know. You have to ask them, Mom. I talked to Juliette two days ago, and she said in a few weeks. I think she went away to stay with friends in Vermont. She's still very upset about Dad.”

“If you talk to them, tell them I need a little warning before they just show up,” Véronique said reasonably, and Timmie sounded surprised.

“Why? Are you doing something special?”

“I might want to make some plans myself. I don't want to just sit here waiting for them to arrive. Joy's not returning calls, and Juliette is impossible to reach now that the sandwich shop is closed for the summer.” Until then, she'd been at her shop day and night, and easy to reach. Now she was MIA.

“Send them both a text,” Timmie said practically, and Véronique refrained from saying that it was a difficult way to have a relationship with one's children. They assumed that she had nothing to do, and just sat around waiting for them, and would drop everything for them when they wanted to come. And that had certainly been true for many years. But suddenly she wanted more of a life than that. She had felt that way since Paul died, and now Aidan was a part of it. She was having fun with him. And he was becoming more important to her day by day, although he had a life of his own, too, and had a gallery show to organize in Berlin. But for now they were both free, she even more so than he, with no professional obligations of her own.

“I'll do that,” she said in answer to Timmie's suggestion to send both girls text messages. “And how are you?”

“Busy, crazy. Nothing ever changes here.” It could now, with her father's bequest, but she hadn't come to any decisions about it yet. She wanted to look for a building, but hadn't had time.

“Well, try not to work too hard. Are you getting away at all?”

“I'm going to stay with friends in the Hamptons this weekend. It's the first break I've had.”

“Good. Well, have fun,” Véronique said, told her she loved her, and realized when she hung up that Timmie hadn't asked her a thing about her, or how she was. It never even occurred to any of them.

She reported to Aidan the next morning that she didn't know when her daughters were coming, maybe not for a few weeks, although she hadn't been able to reach the two who were coming, so she had no news from them.

“That doesn't sound considerate,” he said practically, as they ate breakfast at the hotel. “Are you just supposed to drop everything when they show up?” He looked somewhat shocked. He thought it an odd way for adults to behave even if she was their mother.

“They're not considerate anymore,” she said honestly. “I can't expect them to organize their lives around me, but they expect me to be free when they want to come. They think I have nothing else to do. It's a little trying at times.”

“Maybe you should tell them you're busy, and retrain them a little. It sounds like they need a wake-up call that you're not their slave.” She smiled at what he said. “It sounds like you've been too available to them for a long time.” It was true, and had happened because there was no man in her life, she wasn't working, and she was alone, and missed them so much. So they always assumed that she'd be free for them, and so far she always had been, even if it meant canceling her own plans to be with them, which she often did. The plans were never as important to her as her kids.

“You're right,” she conceded to Aidan. “I've given them bad habits. But this time they're not coming over to have fun. They're coming to look at a château their father left them near St. Paul de Vence. I think they'll probably sell it. It hasn't been used in years. But they should look at it first.”

“See what I mean about rich people?” Aidan said. “Their father had a château he didn't even use. How spoiled is that?” She smiled at him, wondering what he would say if she told him that she had given Paul the château. She could tell that he thought Paul had the money, and she was doing nothing to dispel the illusion. Given Aidan's very harsh opinions about wealthy people, she was afraid now to admit to him that the fortune was hers and not Paul's, that he hadn't had a penny until they married. It seemed more information than Aidan needed for now. She didn't like giving him the impression that she was one of those women who had been living off alimony and a settlement for the past twenty years, but for now it seemed better than the alternative, and telling him the truth.

“Where are you meeting your daughters?” Aidan asked her.

“Cap d'Antibes. I have nothing to do till then,” she admitted. “I'd love you to meet my girls one day.” She smiled at him, but he shook his head.

“I don't know if we'd get along. I don't like the way they treat you. They don't seem very attentive. Your relationship with them sounds like a one-way street, with all the love and attention coming from you.” He wasn't wrong, yet it sounded harsh when he said it. But she couldn't deny that she often felt that way, too, and he had picked it up from what she'd said.

“That's not always the case,” she said, trying to be fair about them. “We had some good talks for a couple of days when their father died. The rest of the time, they're just busy.” And after Paul died, they had needed her help, so they had made time. But at other times, Aidan was right. And a text message was not the same as a call, when they could talk, or laugh, or catch up. They rarely filled her in on their lives, and didn't ask about hers.

“They sound a little too self-involved to me, not unlike the way you describe their father. Maybe he set the tone for them, about how to treat you.” He was critical, but not entirely wrong in his assessment.

“He was actually nicer to me than they are,” Véronique said, looking pensive. Or was he? She was no longer sure. “I guess in your twenties, you don't have time for your parents. At their ages, I had three kids and a husband, which teaches you to think about people other than yourself. All they have to focus on is themselves and what works for them.”

“Fine. Then to hell with them,” Aidan said bluntly. “What are
we
going to do now? I think we've exhausted Florence. Do you want to do some more traveling together? I have the time.” He didn't want to leave her unless she told him to, and he was hoping she wouldn't. Their days together had been magical, since Venice and in Siena and Florence. Aidan wanted more.

She was looking at him shyly across the table. “I'd love it,” she said to him. She had no idea what this was, friendship or something else, despite the difference in their ages. It seemed unlikely, but at times it felt like being part of a couple, particularly when they argued about their views of life, but the discussions were respectful and the arguments resolved quickly. This seemed like a strange parenthesis in their lives, but it was working for both of them, and she was loving every minute of it. She didn't want it to stop, and neither did he. He looked pleased with her answer.

“Why don't we drive toward France?” he said. “We can hang around in the South of France for a while, and take our time. And we'll wind up where you need to be. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” she said, smiling broadly. They agreed to leave Florence the next day, after one more trip to the Uffizi, and they would head toward France in a leisurely way, stopping wherever they wanted.

After breakfast, they walked back toward their rooms, pleased with the plan, and when they reached Véronique's door, Aidan reached an arm toward her and pulled her to him as though he had something to tell her. She looked up at him, and saw the warm chocolate brown of his eyes as he came closer, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, more profoundly than he had in the gondola, and with deeper meaning now that he had gotten to know her. They kissed for a long time, and were breathless when they stopped. She leaned against the door of her room, and he kissed her again, and there was no question now about what this was. They were falling in love. They had no idea if it would last, or if it could ever work, but for right now, in the moment, it was all they both wanted, and it was perfect.

A
idan and Véronique left Florence the next day and drove to Lucca, where they stayed at a small inn, and went for long walks in the countryside for two days. It was relaxing and peaceful. They talked and laughed, and he took photographs of her constantly. He always got her in her unguarded, pensive moments, which was how he liked her best. On the second night, the detective she had hired in Paris called her on her cell phone. He had completed his report on the Marniers and wanted to know where to send it. He said the information had been easy to obtain. They had lived in the same place all their lives. She had him fax it to the hotel, and she read it carefully, with a serious expression. Aidan watched her, and was concerned. He waited until she was finished reading to ask her about it. The report was only five pages long, so he didn't have long to wait, and she seemed sobered by it when she was through.

“Bad news?” he asked her, looking worried, and she shook her head, but she didn't seem happy either.

“Old news,” she said with a sigh. She hated to burden him with the ugly details of her life, and her late ex-husband's transgressions. “At the reading of Paul's will, we all discovered that he had an illegitimate daughter, by a woman he had had an affair with when we were married. I found out after we were separated that he'd had a lot of affairs.” She had told Aidan about that earlier. “But this is the only one that bore children. It was a shock for all of us. And he gave his daughter a quarter of his estate with my girls. She owns a quarter of the château with them. So I've been trying to find out something about her and her mother. That's what I was just reading. I hired a detective in Paris before I left for Rome.” Aidan suddenly looked as serious as she did.

“That must have been a hell of a shock for you, as well as your children. You never suspected?”

“No, never. Not about this one. When I heard about the others, this woman's name was never mentioned. He hid her well, and he never told me, right till the end.”

“Cowardly of him,” Aidan said sternly, and Véronique didn't deny it, “to leave it till after he was gone.”

“That was Paul. He never did anything difficult or unpleasant. He left it all to me. And I'm sure he figured I'd pick up the pieces now, and I suppose I will, as much as anyone can. They're going to have to deal with her. She's their sister, or half-sister.”

“I'm surprised you stayed such good friends with him,” Aidan said quietly. It was hard for him to understand. He sounded like a bastard to him, and in some ways he had been. But a charming one at all times.

“At first I did it for the children. And probably because I still loved him when I divorced him. And then it just became habit that we were friends. I wasn't in love with him in the end, so the bad behavior didn't matter to me anymore. I have no family except my children, so he was part of my history. Like a badly behaved older brother. But this last escapade of his, or the discovery of it, changed everything for me. I'm not feeling too kindly toward him at the moment.” Aidan nodded and said nothing as it all sank in.

“What did the detective say about them?”

“Apparently the girl is a medical student, and her mother is the local doctor. She's very well thought of in the community, and respected. She must have been a medical student herself when Paul met her and they had the affair. He never supported his daughter, but sent them occasional ‘gifts of money,' rarely, which doesn't surprise me. He was never responsible about money, and he probably forgot about her when it suited him. He only saw the child a few times, and not recently. The child's mother never married, but lived with another local doctor for many years, until he died two years ago. He was the only father this girl ever knew. Apparently, her mother never told her Paul was her father. Until recently, she thought he was an old friend of the family who visited once in a while. And I'm sure Paul was perfectly happy to play that charade.” Hearing about him, there was absolutely nothing Aidan liked or respected about Paul Parker. And the pain in Véronique's eyes, as she talked about it, made him furious at Paul and ache for her. He could see just how betrayed she felt.

“According to the report,” Véronique went on, “people in the area say she's a very nice young girl, very responsible and serious and a good student. And her mother is supposedly a lovely woman. They both sound better than Paul deserved. He could have wound up with a real disaster on his hands, especially at the time, if the girl's mother had been after money or wanted to cause a scandal, blackmail him, or create an explosion with me. She never did. And now the mess is ours. I'm sure Paul leaving the girl in his will came as a surprise to them, too, but in their case a good one. According to the report, they have very little money, just what the mother makes in her medical practice, which can't be much. So this will be a windfall to them. And a headache for my girls, to own a piece of property with a half-sister they never knew they had.”

It didn't sound like a good situation to him, but at least they appeared to be decent people. He had no tolerance whatsoever for men like Paul. Aidan took Véronique in his arms then and kissed her, sorry for what she'd had to go through with a man she had obviously been kind and loyal to. And she was grateful for Aidan's kindness and support. They spent a quiet evening talking about it, and she faxed the report to all three girls, although she had no idea when Juliette would get it since she was in Vermont, but she knew the other two would tell her about it when she called. And Juliette always stayed in close touch with Timmie. In some ways the report was good news because the Marniers sounded like respectable people, but the whole situation was unpleasant for them all.

They drove on the next day, and Véronique didn't mention the report again, so Aidan didn't bring it up. She didn't want to think about it, but the day after, all three girls called her on her cell to talk about it. They had the same reaction she had, that at least they sounded like reasonable people. But they were all dreading meeting their half-sister and her mother, and after talking to them, Véronique admitted to Aidan that she didn't want to meet them either.

“Then don't,” Aidan said simply. “You didn't inherit the property, your kids did. If you don't want to meet these women, why should you have to deal with something painful? To hell with them. Let your kids deal with them. They're grown women.”

It had never occurred to Véronique to think that way, but what he said made sense to her and gave her a feeling of freedom.

“You're under no obligation to put yourself through pain, in honor of a man who sounds like he hurt you most of the time, as long as he was having fun. If you want to meet them, do it. But if not, just let the girls see them, and you stay away.” She smiled at him after he said it, and leaned over to kiss him.

“You're a wonderful man,” she said to him. “Thank you. I'm glad you saved my life.”

“So am I,” he said, and kissed her again. They were kissing a lot, but had managed to stay out of bed so far. Neither of them wanted to do something hasty, or in the heat of passion, that they'd regret. They hadn't figured out what they were doing yet, and their leisurely flirtation worked for both of them. They didn't want to hurt each other, or get hurt.

“I've never had a relationship like this,” he confessed to her one afternoon as they drove to Portofino. “Usually, I sleep with women and don't love them. Now I'm in love with you, and not sleeping with you. One of these days I'll get it right.” He laughed, and she smiled at him. She had never had a relationship like this either, with a man who treated her as well, and actually cared how she felt, even though he barely knew her. Paul had never thought of anyone but himself, as witnessed by the situation her daughters had to deal with now in France.

They spent three days in Portofino at a charming small hotel in the little port town, and then a day in Cinque Terre. Their days were spent exploring, while he took photographs, or being on local beaches, and at night they went to restaurants in the romantic setting.

They crossed the border into France after four days, and headed on a meandering course toward the South of France. They wanted to see Èze in the Maritime Alps, and had decided to settle in Antibes after that. He knew a small hotel in the Old Town, and it was close to the hotel where she planned to stay with the girls.

The drive to Èze was as beautiful as they hoped it would be. The town had cobblestoned streets, and old men were playing boules when they walked around. The views were spectacular, looking down at the coast. They had an excellent lunch, and then drove down the mountain to Antibes, and found Aidan's tiny hotel, where they were given two small bedrooms side by side. They walked around the old part of the town, and had an elegant dinner in a restaurant on the ramparts that night, where they could see big yachts and sailboats of all sizes drift by. There was a handsome yacht harbor in Antibes, and the town was a nice place to relax, with several beaches to choose from.

They walked back slowly to the hotel after dinner. Aidan had his arm around her waist, and they stopped and watched the boats for a while. Their time together was a peaceful respite from real life, and he finally voiced the concern she'd had for days.

“What are we going to do after this? Will you visit me in London, Véronique?” He was afraid he'd never see her again after their trip. Their worlds seemed light-years apart. More so than their ages, which didn't seem to bother either of them. They felt the same age most of the time, except when she talked about her kids, since it was hard for him to relate, as he had none of his own.

“I could come to London. And you could come to visit me in Paris or New York,” she suggested to him.

“Will you come see my show in Berlin?” he asked. He wanted to make her part of his life, to show her where he lived and how he worked. And they both knew that it would be harder for him to enter her world than for her to visit his. At some point, if they continued seeing each other, he would have to meet her daughters, and Véronique didn't know how they'd react to anyone in her life, let alone Aidan, who was younger. They'd probably be shocked at how young he was. The age difference between them wasn't ridiculous, but it was there. She suspected that they'd be most upset that she was involved with a man at all. They were used to her being alone and never thought of her as a woman, just as their mother, who existed only in relation to them, and for whatever they needed from her, in terms of attention or emotional support.

“I could come after the girls leave,” she said thoughtfully. “I doubt they'll stay long.”

“I'd really like that,” he said, smiling at her. He loved the idea of her coming to his show.

“So would I.” She was happy he'd invited her, and with that settled, they walked back to the hotel arm in arm.

Juliette called her that night and told her she and Joy were coming in a week. They were thinking of staying for five or six days, maybe a week, which was what Véronique had guessed. And as she hung up afterward, she realized that their visit felt like an intrusion. She wanted to be with Aidan and, for once, not with them. She felt guilty as she thought it, and told Aidan about Juliette's call the next day, as they drove to Cap Ferrat for the day. And they were going to have dinner at the Voile d'Or, overlooking the port in St. Jean Cap Ferrat that night, and this time, as the restaurant was expensive, she had insisted it was her treat.

Knowing they had a week left together made every moment even more precious to Aidan and Véronique. They drove to different towns along the coast, tried out new beaches, swam together, and went to fun restaurants at night. They talked for hours, shared their dreams and secrets, argued occasionally, delighted and annoyed each other, kissed frequently, and had fun together. She had never felt as comfortable with anyone, nor had he. And spending every waking hour together every day taught them much about their characters. And they liked everything they'd seen so far. Aidan said he'd never been as happy with any woman as he was with her, and even though they hadn't slept with each other, they shared a rare intimacy, and anyone who saw them together would have assumed they were married, or at least lovers. They were totally at ease.

The days sped by, and on the last day, they talked again about her coming to Berlin to see his show. She promised to be at the opening in a couple of weeks, or she might even come before and help him set it up. He was hoping she would, and told her it would mean a lot to him. She was going back to Paris after the girls left, and flying to Berlin from there. On the last night, they had dinner at a pizzeria in the old part of town, and walked through the crowds of people roaming the streets on their way back. They had their arms around each other, and he kissed her just before they got to the hotel.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” he said softly to her. It was hard to imagine a day without her now, and she felt exactly the same way. It was going to be strange to see her children, and not have them know how important Aidan was to her, or even that they'd met. But she didn't feel ready to tell them, and she wanted to protect what she and Aidan had. It seemed precious, fragile, and rare.

He kissed her again before they went to their rooms that night. She lay in bed thinking about him, and wondering if he was sleeping yet. She had booked a reservation for herself and the girls at the Eden Roc, where they always stayed. He was going to take her there the next morning, and have lunch with her, and then drive to Berlin. Juliette and Joy were coming in that night. She and Aidan had spent every moment together that they could, and as she thought of leaving him the next day, her eyes filled with tears. She was in bed unable to sleep for the next hour, and then got up to stare at the sea in the moonlight, and heard a soft knock at her door. She went to answer it, and Aidan was standing there in his underwear and bare feet, with a sheepish expression.