“I think she’s losing it. Something’s going on with her. And why didn’t she or Penny tell me she was out of town?”
“I have no idea. Maybe the story is a secret, or some kind of breaking news. A new chancellor, a cure for a rare disease they’ve done the research for. She covers very major stuff and people. Does she usually tell you everything she’s doing?” He sounded exasperated, he had no idea why his sister was being so dogged about her. He knew how tactless she could be, especially with their mother.
“No,” Deanna said honestly. She rarely spoke to her brother either. She sent him an occasional text, but that was it. “I think something smoky is happening. And she’s never fallen before. I told her I thought it was the beginning of the end.”
“Christ, Deanna, why would you say something like that? And you wonder why she’s dodging your calls?”
“Well, it’s true. She’s not young anymore. She should sell the firehouse. The broken ankle proves it. She’s going to kill herself on those stairs one of these days. A broken hip will be next.” She sounded adamant about it, and he closed his eyes as he held the phone.
“Did you tell her that too?”
“Of course. She needs to hear it. We can’t sugarcoat everything for her.” He could count on his sister not to do that, of that he was sure. “She’s getting older. She should have someone staying there at night, some kind of caretaker. She’s got room for it, so she has no excuse. Or she should sell that Bohemian death trap she lives in. The stairs alone are dangerous, and once she’s injured, there’s no elevator. I told her she should consider one of those assisted living co-ops. Some of my friends have been buying them for their parents, and she can afford it.”
“She doesn’t need assisted living at fifty-eight.”
“Not yet, but she will. The broken ankle proves it.”
“Oh, for chrissake, Dee. If I break my ankle playing tennis, should I move into assisted living too?”
“Of course not, you’re thirty-five years old. Mom is old now, she’s nearly sixty. In a few years the firehouse will be seriously dangerous for her. It already is. I told her she should get one of those alarms to hang around her neck in the meantime, until she sells it, in case she has another fall.”
“Oh God. Let me give you a clear picture of what you did here. You told our mother, who cherishes her independence, has a booming career, and is respected around the world, that she was an idiot for falling off a ladder and breaking her ankle and that she should wear a geriatric alarm in case she falls again, which she may never do since she’s never done it before. You told her that she needs a caretaker living with her, should sell the house she loves, and should consider assisted living. If you said any of that to me, I’d be profoundly depressed, and she probably is now. What you said is unnecessary and inappropriate, especially at her age, and for someone as vital as our mother. She’s fifty-eight, not ninety, and she looks fifty on a bad day, forty-five on a good one. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that she’s not acting normal,” Deanna said, sounding huffy. “And she’s not too young for early-onset Alzheimer’s. People her age, and younger, get it all the time.”
“People get struck by lightning too. Let me tell you, the one thing our mother does not have is Alzheimer’s. She’s smarter than either one of us, and I haven’t noticed her slipping.”
“Maybe not, but she’s behaving strangely.”
“How? Because she went to Harvard without your permission? She’s probably there to see the chancellor, which is something you and I wouldn’t be invited to do.” He knew that his sister had issues with their mother, and at times was jealous of her accomplishments, but this was ridiculous. “Do you ever think about what her life is like? How lonely she must be? She has three children, two of them live three thousand miles away, one of whom is practically a recluse and never speaks to anyone, including her.” He had wondered at times if Milagra had some form of Asperger’s, although there was no firm evidence of it. She was certainly eccentric. “You live in the same city. How often do you see her?”
“David and I are very busy,” she said defensively. “We both have very stressful jobs,” as though that explained it, but to him it didn’t.
“So does she. Do you ever take her to lunch, or do something with her on the weekends?” he asked and there was silence on the other end for an instant.
“We go away every weekend. I can’t stay in the city for Mom. I have my family to think of.”
“So do I. That’s my point. She is our family. We forget that. We all have our families and lives. Millie and I live far away, and you’re too busy to spend time with her. And then you go and tell her she has to have a babysitter, should sell her house, consider assisted living, and wear a geriatric alarm. What about diapers? Did you suggest those too? Jesus, how do you expect her to feel with all that?”
“Maybe that’s her reality now,” Deanna said harshly. “Or it will be.”
“Maybe not. There are plenty of people in their eighties and nineties now, in good shape and fully operative. Some are even still working. You want to treat her like she’s a hundred years old at fifty-eight, when she’s still busy, beautiful, and at the height of her career. I’m not surprised she’s not returning your calls. I wouldn’t either. And who knows what she’s doing at Harvard, probably working. Or maybe she’s having an affair with one of the professors. She must be lonely as hell. And I don’t think she’s ‘slipping,’ geriatric, or senile because she broke her ankle.”
“I hope you’re right,” Deanna said, sounding bitter. She didn’t like getting scolded by her brother or anyone else. In her life, she did the scolding.
“I hope she goes out and has a good time once in a while, she deserves it,” he said, feeling sad for her. “She doesn’t need a caretaker, she needs a boyfriend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. At her age?”
“Are you telling me you don’t know people in their late fifties who have boyfriends and girlfriends, or are still married? Hell, I know people who got married in their eighties.”
“I still think she should get rid of the firehouse,” Deanna said stubbornly. “It’s dangerous, it always was.”
“She loves it. What if someone forced you to give up your house in the Berkshires?” He had been there and it was beautiful. Deanna loved it. “Or your coop in New York?” She loved that too.
“That’s different,” she said angrily.
“No, it’s not,” he insisted.
“It’s not dangerous, for heaven’s sake. The place in Massachusetts is an eighteenth-century farmhouse.”
“Well, hers is a twentieth-century firehouse. I happen to like it, and it suits her. It’s charming, and it’s totally her.”
“Tell me how charming it is when she breaks a hip or kills herself falling down those stairs. I can hardly manage them.”
“I think you need to be more compassionate about her. A lot more. She asks nothing of us, she’s always available when we want her, and she never complains about how little we all see her and do for her. I don’t even have time to call her most of the time, and she never says anything about it. As mothers go, she’s extremely low maintenance. Maybe you need to appreciate that instead of trying to shove her into assisted living and get rid of her. Think how that must make her feel. For all we know, she’s running away from home right now, and I wouldn’t blame her.” Deanna didn’t answer for a moment.
“I’ll take her to lunch when she gets back, if she returns my calls.”
“She may not for a while. Why should she? You must have scared the life out of her. I’m late for a meeting,” he said as he looked at his watch, and after they hung up, he thought about what his sister had said, and the outrageous things she had suggested to their mother. It broke his heart for her. He could only imagine how sad and hurt she must have been. He wasn’t w
rong. It made him wonder if he was the only one who cared about her. His sisters certainly made no effort, and neither did he very often. It made him want to invite her out to San Francisco in the near future, if Laura didn’t come up with a hundred excuses for him not to. They were always too busy. But he was going to change that. He had made that decision while listening to his sister. They owed their mother more than they were giving her.
At her end, Deanna brushed off what Ben had said. As far as she was concerned, he obviously had a mother complex.
And as they argued about her, Maddie was happily in her car, listening to Beyoncé and on her way to Chicago.
* * *
—
She got to Chicago at one A.M., with Friday traffic and a stop for lunch on the road, and drove straight to the Four Seasons Hotel on Michigan Avenue, the city’s “Magnificent Mile.” She had called the hotel several hours earlier, and told them when she’d be arriving. She asked for a junior suite like the one she had at the Four Seasons in Boston. And when she got there, they had a beautiful room for her on the fortieth floor with a view of the lake. She could see the boats from her window.
She took off her clothes, showered, and fell into bed. She’d been driving for seventeen hours and she was going to call Jacques in the morning. She had no idea if he was in town, or if he would want to see her. But that was the beauty of this trip. She was leaving it all up to fate, without forcing anything. And if he didn’t see her, that was all right too. At least she’d tried. It was all she had to do. She smiled as she thought about it, and even before she turned the lights off from the switch next to her bed, she fell sound asleep. It had been a long drive from Boston and she had enjoyed the trip.
Chapter 6
When Maddie woke up the next morning, it was a beautiful sunny day, and she was surprised to see that it was after ten o’clock in the morning. She stretched and then got up, crossed the room, and opened the curtains. The view from her room on the fortieth floor was spectacular. She took out her phone, took a picture of the view, and posted it on Instagram. Then she ordered her breakfast, coffee and croissants. She wanted to walk around the city.
She called Jacques before she went out. The number she had was for the offices of his restaurant corporation. When she asked for him, they told her he wasn’t expected until that afternoon, and she left him a message. She left her hotel room a few minutes later.
Deanna had just sent her brother a text by then. “Take a look at her Instagram. Where is she now?”
His answer came back almost immediately. He recognized the city instantly. He went there often. “Chicago.”
“Why?” Deanna wrote back to him.
“None of our business. She’s an adult.” And then he sent another text a few minutes later and added “with all her marbles.” Deanna still wasn’t convinced but she didn’t write back to him. She called Maddie’s cellphone and it went straight to voicemail. She sent her a text then, and asked where she was, and Maddie didn’t answer. She obviously didn’t want to communicate with them at the moment. Maddie had told herself that this was her time. She had given herself permission not to call them. For the very first time.
As she headed back to the hotel that afternoon, not wanting to go too far on her walking cast, her phone rang, and a voice with a familiar French accent gushed in a mixture of French and English that made her smile.
“What are you doing in Chicago? And why have you call me?” His English was a little better than when she dated him, but not much. Most of the employees in his restaurants were French. He still trusted his fellow countrymen in the kitchen more than Americans, although he had a Chinese cook in one of his restaurants and a Colombian in another. The Colombian had gone to Le Cordon Bleu, and the Chinese chef had worked in one of the best restaurants in Hong Kong. “I am so happy to hear from you, Maddie.” He still said it like “Mah-deeee” and made it sound French.
“I’m taking a driving trip.” She had learned something from seeing Bob Holland. She didn’t want to tell Jacques she was there to see him, it was too intense. A lot of women chased him, and she didn’t want to be perceived as one more.
“What are you doing for dinner?”
“Nothing. I came in late last night, and I didn’t want to make plans.”
“Well, you have plans now. I just opened a new restaurant two weeks ago. You have to try it. Dinner at nine?” He still liked eating late, and then he had another thought. “Please tell me you don’t have a husband with you.” He sounded hopeful and she laughed.
“I don’t have one.”
“Wonderful news.” She hadn’t seen him in twenty years, and he made it seem as though it was yesterday. He had always been an open, breezy, friendly person. He was perfect for the restaurant business, and people loved him, especially women. But he could be a man’s man too, when he had to be. She was glad she’d called him. And she had been reminded again that afternoon that Chicago was a small but sophisticated city. She had a feeling his new restaurant was going to be fancy. She stopped at Neiman Marcus on the way back to the hotel to see if she could find something dressier to wear that night than anything she had brought with her. She was traveling light, and everything she had was casual.
She found a perfect, simple, short black silk dress that showed off her legs, still one of her best features, and a pair of Manolo Blahnik black suede pumps with a low heel, the right height to work with her cast. She looked elegant when she tried the dress on and it fit perfectly. And she had a simple black jacket with her that would be perfect with the dress if it was chilly.
She was impeccably put together when Jacques picked her up at the hotel a few minutes before nine. She was wearing her still-blond hair loose, past her shoulders. She had it colored, but whatever gray she had blended in with the blond and you couldn’t see it.
Jacques jumped out of the car as soon as he saw her. He was driving a dark blue convertible sports model Bentley. She grinned when she saw it, and he rushed over to give her a big hug and kiss her. He was a little heavier than before, but other than that, looked very much the same.
“What a pleasure to see you, Maddie,” he said and sounded as though he meant it. The car was concrete proof of how far he had come and how popular his restaurants were. Unlike Bob Holland, she suspected that Jacques hadn’t married it, he had made every penny himself and looked as though he was enjoying it thoroughly. His restaurant was only a few minutes from the hotel, and the valet took the car keys from him immediately and parked the car in front. Everyone greeted him warmly when they walked in. They had one of the best tables in the house reserved for him, and the sommelier appeared with a bottle of Cristal champagne as soon as they sat down.
“I’m so glad you called me,” he said happily. “How are your children?”
“Busy, well, and happy.” She smiled at him. He still had the same knack of making everything seem festive. They had always had a good time together. And as she glanced around, she saw that the restaurant was beautiful, with important contemporary art hanging on the walls. There was a Damien Hirst right above their table, which Maddie noticed immediately.
“I have a daughter myself now,” he said proudly.
“I think I saw a photograph of her on your website,” she said, and he laughed mischievously.
“No, that is just a friend. Beautiful girl. From Venezuela. My daughter is only eleven. I never married her mother, but we’re good friends and I see her whenever I want to. I got them the apartment just below mine, so she can go back and forth between our two homes.” It seemed like a sensible arrangement.
“You never married?” Maddie asked him as they sipped the champagne, and he smiled.
“I don’t think marriage would suit me.” That had been her conclusion too when they dated. Monogamy was definitely not his strong suit, at least not then.
“Are you still collecting women?” She teased
him and he laughed in answer.
“They are my drug of choice. And you, Maddie? Did you marry again?” She shook her head.
“I’m not sure it would suit me anymore either. It’s been a long time. And I do a lot of traveling for my work now. I’m away a lot, that’s hard to do when you’re married.” He nodded agreement, and the headwaiter handed them the menus. There were no prices on the one he gave Maddie. At Masson, only gentlemen saw the prices of the meals. The food was all very high-level French haute cuisine gastronomique, and Maddie was sure it was delicious. He showed her a picture of his daughter, Paloma, then, and she was a beautiful child.
“Fortunately, she looks like her mother, not like me. We spend a lot of time together, and I take her on trips with me. Her mother is a lingerie model, or she was. Now she stays home with our daughter.” He was obviously providing a nice life for both of them. Even when he’d been poor when he first came to America with a green card and nothing else, he was a generous man. “Are you happy, Maddie?” he asked her after they ordered dinner. It was a question Bob Holland had never thought to ask her, because he was so unhappy himself. He had forgotten that some people were. But Jacques spread joy and pleasure around him like gifts.
“Sometimes,” she said, looking pensive for a minute as she thought about it. “Sometimes I miss the old days when the kids were small and still at home. I hardly see them now, and Ben and Milagra live in California. I see them a couple of times a year. But my work is very rewarding. I still love what I do, more than ever.” He smiled as she said it.
“You have such an enormous talent,” he said admiringly.
“So do you. The restaurant is beautiful. You have a talent for great food and creating a wonderful atmosphere around you.”
“I stop in all my restaurants every night. It makes a difference. And I’m in Vegas a lot. If you have time, I’ll take you there. The restaurant is a lot of fun. It’s pretty in Palm Beach too. I have a house there, but it’s a little quiet for me. I want to open a Cuban restaurant in Miami next year, with dancing and a salsa band. Miami is hot!” He was always thinking about business, but he took time out to play too, sometimes a little too much so. She could easily guess that there were always women around him, in Miami, Las Vegas, and Chicago. “I became an American citizen last year,” he said proudly. “I’ve been here for twenty years now. You were the first woman I ever went out with when I arrived.”
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