Toxic Bachelors (35 page)

She offered him hot chocolate in the cozy kitchen, and they sat at her kitchen table while it got dark outside. He mentioned again how much he hated the holidays and was dreading them, as he always did. She didn't ask him what his plans were, she thought it was too soon to ask. He had only that day walked back into her life. He offered to light a fire in the fireplace then, and they settled down on the couch in the main living room once it was lit, and talked for hours. Their lives scattered around them like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that they were slowly fitting together one by one, a piece of sky here, a tree there, a passing cloud, a house, a childhood trauma, a heartbreak, a favorite pet, how much he loved his sister, how devastated he had been when she died, how lonely she had been as a child. It all fit together seamlessly, better than either of them could have planned.

It was after eight o'clock when she finally offered to cook him dinner. And he politely offered to take her out. It had just started snowing, and they both agreed it was much cozier inside. In the end, they made pasta and omelettes, standing together at the stove, with French bread, cheese, and salad. By the time dinner was over, they were both laughing at funny stories she told, and he told her about exotic places he'd been on the boat. And as they walked back into the living room, he took her in his arms and kissed her, and then suddenly he laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked, sounding slightly nervous.

“I was thinking about Halloween and your green face. You looked so funny.” It was the first time he had kissed her, and they both remembered it well. All hell had broken loose between them shortly after that.

“Not nearly as funny as you with your lion's tail sticking up straight behind you. The kids still talk about it. They loved it. They thought you were really cool, and it gave Gabby something to hang on to, while she followed you around.” They hadn't gone to the center that day, and Carole said she was going the next day. Charlie said he wanted to go with her. He had missed the kids, especially Gabby. “I told her you were away.” He nodded. He had missed all of it, but Carole most of all. And then, as he kissed her again, she looked into his eyes. There was something so gentle and peaceful there that she felt as though she'd come home. “Do you want to go upstairs?” she asked him gently, and he nodded. He didn't say anything to her as he followed her up the stairs to her bedroom, and then he stood looking at her for an endless moment.

“Are you all right?” He didn't want to push her. He remembered how reluctant she had been to date, and that had only been two months before. A lot had happened in the meantime, and his four-week absence had told her that she loved him. She was willing to take the chance. For her, it had been a long, long time.

She nodded in answer to his question, and they settled comfortably into her big bed, where she slept in the middle when she was alone. She lay next to him feeling as though they had been there before. Their lovemaking was comforting and joyous, passionate and cozy at the same time. It was precisely what they both wanted so much, intimacy much needed and equally shared. And as the snow fell outside her windows that night, it looked like a Christmas card, and lying in each other's arms was like a dream.

20

T
HE
T
HANKSGIVING WEEKEND WAS EASY FOR
G
RAY
and Sylvia. She went to the gallery on Saturday, and had errands to do. Gray went to his studio to paint, and on Sunday they sat in bed with
The New York Times
strewn around them, while he coached her on the crossword puzzle, and eventually they made love, and went back to sleep.

They hadn't heard a word from Charlie since Thanksgiving dinner, and they hoped he'd taken their advice, but they didn't know if he would. There were four inches of snow on the ground on Sunday morning, and that night Sylvia cooked dinner, while Gray read a book in the living room. They were chatting easily about nothing in particular over dinner when Gray asked her when her kids were coming home. He hadn't thought about it till then, and when he asked her, he looked worried. She knew he'd been anxious about meeting them, and afraid they might disapprove of their romance.

“A few days before Christmas, I think. Gilbert said the twenty-third, but Emily is always a little vague. She'll catch a plane at the last minute, and blow in here like a hurricane. She always does.”

“That's what I'm afraid of,” Gray said, looking anxious. “Sylvia, I just don't know if that's a good idea.”

“What, my children coming home for Christmas? Are you kidding?” She looked stunned. They were, and always had been, the light of her life. There was no way she was going to tell them not to come home, even for him. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying,” he said, taking a deep breath, “that I don't know if I'm up to meeting them. I think I should stay at my studio while they're here.” She had a tiny studio apartment downstairs that they used when they were home. The rest of the time she used it for storage, so there was no reason why Gray couldn't continue to stay with her, and she had already explained that to him weeks before.

“Sweetheart, they're going to love you,” Sylvia said easily, trying to dispel his fears.

“I don't do well with kids.”

“They're not kids, they're adults.”

“That's what you think. Kids are kids, I don't care if they're eighty years old. If someone's hundred-year-old mother has a boyfriend, their eighty-year-old kid is going to be pissed. It's the law of nature.” He sounded convinced.

“Bullshit, they never gave Gordon any problems, and they were younger then.” Gordon was her lover who had died. “Trust me, they're great kids, you're going to love them.”

“Maybe not,” he said sadly, and she looked up at him, worried.

“What are you saying?” She sensed that there was more to it than what appeared. She knew he was anxious about children, but not to this degree.

“I'm saying that that level of involvement makes me nervous. As long as we're just dealing with each other, I'm fine. But once you start dragging kids into it, I freak out.”

“Gray, for God's sake, that's insane. They'll only be here for a few weeks.” She was taking them skiing the day after Christmas, and she wanted Gray to come. They already knew there was a man in her life, and both seemed fine with it. They knew how lonely she had been since Gordon died.

“Maybe I should just stay out of the picture till they're gone,” he said firmly, growing more resolute by the minute, and Sylvia looked hurt, angry, and shocked.

“Let me get this straight here,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don't want to meet my children, and you don't want to see me till they leave. Is that it? Did I get that right?”

“Yes, you did. You can come over to see me at the studio whenever you want.”

“Fuck that,” she said, as she strode nervously across the room and began to pace. “I'm not going to be in a relationship with a man who won't even meet my kids. They're wonderful children, and I love them. And I also love you. They're part of me, Gray. You don't even know who I am until you know them too.”

“Yes, I do. And I love you too,” he said, looking more than a little panicked. He hadn't expected her reaction to be so extreme. “But I'm not going to be forced into a situation I know I can't handle. I can't deal with that level of commitment. I just can't. I know myself. I've never wanted kids of my own, and I don't want anyone else's either.”

“Then you should be going out with a woman who has no kids.”

“Maybe so,” he said, staring at his feet.

“Just when did you decide all this?” She was horrified by everything he'd said. She had never expected him to be as unreasonable as this.

“As soon as you told me they were coming back here for Christmas. I just figured I'd bow out gracefully for a few weeks.”

“And what about next summer? You don't come to Europe with me either?” She liked having time alone with them, but his reasons for it struck her as ridiculous, and even mean. He wasn't willing to make any effort whatsoever to meet her kids, or be part of her life, an important part of her life, in her eyes. “I wanted you to come skiing with us,” she said, looking disappointed. She had rented a beautiful house for them in Vermont.

“I don't ski.” He remained unconvinced.

“Neither do I. But they do. And we always have a nice time together.”

“You will this year too. I just won't be there.”

“You're a shit!” she said, stormed into the bedroom, and slammed the door. And when she came out two hours later, he had gone back to his studio, to spend the night there for the first time in three months. It was a terrible situation, and when she called him, he said he was working and didn't want to talk.

“Fuck,” she said to herself, and paced some more. She had no idea how to win him over. She knew how bad his childhood had been, and how insane his family was. He had told her early on that family life was not for him. She just hadn't expected him to take it to these extremes. He didn't even want to see them. He only wanted her. She knew that if he remained firm on it, it would impact their relationship sooner rather than later. She wasn't sure whether to just let him be, and see if he'd relent on his own, or draw a line in the sand, and give him an ultimatum. Either way, she could lose him.

The Three Musketeers, as Sylvia now called them, met for dinner in a Chinese restaurant two weeks before Christmas. All of them were stressed and busy. Charlie said he had a million things to do for the foundation before he left on the boat. Adam's clients were all going nuts, and he was going to Vegas for the title fight of one of his clients that weekend. And Gray just looked depressed.

“So how are the lovebirds?” Charlie teased him as they started dinner. Gray just shook his head. “What does that mean?”

“It means Sylvia and I are barely speaking to each other. It's been a tough couple of weeks since Thanksgiving.”

“What happened?” Charlie looked stunned. “You two looked fine when I was there.” They looked better than fine. They were terrific.

“I don't do kids.”

“I know that.” Charlie smiled. “That's Adam's department. Twenty-two-year-olds. Sylvia is adorable, but she's no kid.”

“No, but she
has
kids. And I don't want to meet them. They're coming in for Christmas, and I just can't go there. I can't. It makes me nuts. Every time I get around families, it makes me nervous. I feel psychotic. I get depressed. I don't want to meet her kids. I love her, not her children.”

“Oh, shit. And what's she saying about that?” Charlie looked worried.

“Not much. She's pissed. I guess she's hurt. She isn't saying it, but I get the feeling that if I don't back down, it's going to be over with us, and I'm not backing down. I have to respect myself. I have limitations. I have issues. I grew up in the Addams Family on LSD. My sister is a Buddhist nun. My brother is a Navajo I haven't seen in a million years, and don't want to. And both my parents were head cases. I am allergic to families.”

“Even hers?” Charlie tested the waters.

“Even hers,” Gray confirmed. “They're going to Vermont after Christmas,” he said as though they were going by rocket ship to another planet. “To ski.” He made the electric chair sound more appealing.

“You might have fun.”

“No, I won't. They're probably not as nice as she thinks. Even if they are, I have my own problems. I don't want to be involved with her family, only with her.” But he also knew that if he stuck to that, he might blow the deal. Gray felt he had no choice, and Charlie felt sorry for them both. He knew how much it must mean to her. She was so proud of her kids. And also in love with Gray.

“I hope you guys work it out,” Charlie said gently. “It would be a shame if you don't.” Gray had been so much happier since he'd been with her. And then he told him and Adam about Carole. “I took your advice,” he said proudly, and then added, “I hope you take mine, and compromise a little. I think you'll be sorry later if you don't.”

“I'm sure I will,” Gray said, looking resigned. He was fully prepared to pay the price for his decision, and lose her if he had to, rather than meet or get involved with her children.

“I have a little bit of news,” Adam said shyly, as the other two looked at him. “Remember Maggie, from the Vana concert?” He reminded Charlie, and he nodded. “She just moved in.” He looked half-proud and half-embarrassed as the other two stared at him.

“She
what
?” Charlie asked him. He remembered how she had looked that night, and feeling sorry for her. She had seemed like a nice girl and something of a lost soul.
“You?
Mr. I'll-never-get-tied-down-again-I-have-to-have-my-freedom-and-a-million-women? How did
that
happen?” She hadn't looked like a conniver to him, but who knew? She had done something to turn him around, whatever it was.

“She's taking pre-law classes at night school, and I figured I could help her with her papers,” he said, trying to sound casual, and the other two guffawed, hooted, and jeered.

“Try that on someone else.”

“All right, all right…I really like her… love her… what do I know? One minute we were dating, and the next thing I knew, I didn't want her out of my sight. I haven't told her yet, but I'm taking her to Vegas this weekend. She's never been.” She hadn't been anywhere, and he was planning to change that soon.

“Have you told her about the boat?” Charlie asked him. Adam was flying to St. Barts to meet Charlie on the boat on December 26, as he did every year, after he spent Christmas with his kids.

Adam shook his head, trying to look unconcerned. “I thought I'd tell her after this weekend.” He was hoping that she'd be so thrilled after the weekend that she wouldn't make a fuss about the boat. “I can't change everything. We've been doing that trip for ten years. Have you told Carole?”

“No, but I will. I don't do holidays,” Charlie said firmly.

“I don't do kids,” Gray said just as firmly.

“Do you want to come to St. Barts with us?” Charlie suggested. “If you're not going to be with Sylvia over the holidays, you might as well.”