“I’m glad I found you, Gwen. I’m not sure I’m ready for you, or that I deserve you. But I have a lot of strong feelings for you.” It was a timid way of telling her he was falling in love with her, but she was also falling in love with him, and being there together in the South of France, with his friends, was drawing them even closer together. “Life is strange, isn’t it? It never even occurred to me that I’d lose Anne. I thought she’d outlive me. I never ever thought there would be anyone else in my life again. And Eric was telling me some very upsetting things today about them. Just when you think you have a sure thing in your hand, it all falls apart, and you have to start at the beginning. And then when you think your life is over, it starts again, and you get another chance. Maybe that’s what makes life worth living.”
“I never thought I’d find anyone that important to me again,” Gwen concurred. “I thought I’d made enough mistakes and used up all my tickets. But maybe not,” she said softly, looking at him.
They sat quietly together for a long time, looking out at the water, contemplating both their past, and their future.
“I love you, Gwen,” he said, turning to look at her. “I can’t believe I’d be right for you. I’m too old, our lives are very different. But who knows, maybe this is the best thing that ever happened to either of us.” He smiled peacefully as he put an arm around her. “Let’s just see what happens.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, looking up at him, and then, he kissed her, as the sun shone brightly over St. Tropez.
11
FROM THE TIME GWEN SAVED JOHN FROM CHOKING, everyone’s attitudes seemed to subtly change toward her. It wasn’t immediate or overt, it was more of a gradual thing, but it was palpable, as the others made small efforts toward her. The next time Pascale and Diana went to the market, they asked her to join them. They talked to her cautiously at first, and then began to open up and chat more comfortably around her. She carried groceries with them, cooked breakfast for everyone, and cleaned the kitchen for Pascale at night. And when Pascale felt sick one night, Gwen cooked dinner for the others, and made chicken soup for Pascale. She had eaten bad clams at the port, and got violently ill, and as it turned out, she felt sick for days after.
She felt so ill eventually that Eric was afraid she might have contracted salmonella or hepatitis, and he wanted her to see a local doctor and get some blood work, but Pascale insisted she was fine, and stayed in bed for a few days.
By the end of the first week Gwen was there, Diana was speaking openly in front of her, and she had even admitted Eric’s recent affair to her. Gwen was quiet about it at first, and then couldn’t restrain herself any longer.
“I don’t have any right to tell you this, Diana. And I don’t know what you should do. But my husband had an affair when we were married, and I walked out on him the day I found out. I shut him out, I closed the door, I never talked to him again. I filed for a divorce. We’d been married for nine years, and I think in a way I forced him to marry the woman he’d had the affair with. I’m not sure he would have if I hadn’t walked out. I don’t know what happened after that, or why he did it. I never took his calls, or saw him. But he committed suicide six months after he married her, and afterward she said that he had always been in love with me. And the stupid thing, the really sinful, awful part, is that I was still in love with him. I’m not saying that Eric would ever do anything like that, but what I am saying is that I wasted my marriage, I threw it away. At the time, I thought I could never forgive him, and she was my best friend. But I do know I made a terrible mistake and I wish I hadn’t done it. Be smarter than I was,” Gwen said with tears in her eyes, as Diana listened to her carefully, touched by what Gwen was saying to her. “It’s all right to be hurt and angry, but don’t throw it all away.” Diana nodded, as they dried the dishes, and when Eric walked into the room, she turned away. It was an awful story, but there was a lesson to be learned, not about suicide, but about loving someone and forgiving them, and not cutting off your nose to spite your face. And that night, Gwen told Robert what she had said.
“I’m glad you did. I’ve been trying to get Eric to hang in too. He’s pretty discouraged, and I guess she’s pretty angry at him, but that’s understandable. If they can just get through this part, and love each other in spite of it, maybe they’ll wind up with something even better in the end. Eric isn’t sure Diana will stick it out.” And neither was Gwen, from everything Diana had said.
Gwen cooked breakfast for all of them in Pascale’s place the next day, she was feeling too weak from the remainder of her food poisoning to get out of bed, and when John joined them in the kitchen, he looked concerned.
“I don’t like the way she looks,” he said quietly to Eric over breakfast. “She doesn’t want to admit it, but I can tell she still feels pretty sick. I think she should see a doctor here in St. Tropez and maybe get some tests.”
“I’ll take a look at her after breakfast,” Eric offered, and John thanked him, and after they ate Gwen’s French toast, Eric disappeared upstairs. Pascale told him that she thought it was a combination of problems, and she shared her concerns with him. Everything she said sounded reasonable, and he was able to reassure John when he came back downstairs.
“I think she just feels lousy, it takes a while to get over a really bad case of food poisoning like that.” But John wasn’t convinced, and nagged her again about going to the doctor, when he checked on her. She said she hated the doctors in France.
“And so do you,” she reminded him. But when he looked at her, he thought she looked green.
And when the entire group met again for lunch, including Pascale, who said she felt better, Robert and Gwen were talking about extending their trip by another week.
“Hurray!” Diana said, and then looked embarrassed, but a look of budding friendship passed between her and Gwen. They were all slowly discovering that she was not only decent, but a lovely person, and they were less worried about Robert than they had been. She was beginning to restore their faith in his judgment, and John was excited for him. He said as much to Pascale that afternoon.
“Look at the life he could have with her, Pascale. It’s pretty exciting. A movie star? At his age, it’ll put some real spark in his life.”
“He doesn’t need that,” Pascale said cautiously. Although she was grateful for what Gwen had done for John when he was choking, she still wanted to be sure that Robert wasn’t making a mistake, if it even got that far. But only time would tell. “He needs a real person, a companion, a good friend.”
“She is a real person. Look at her, she’s done more cooking and cleaning around here than Diana or you. She’s nice to all of us, she put up with all your bullshit in the beginning, and she was a good sport about it.
And the most important thing is that I think she loves him. And he loves her.”
“You don’t think he’d marry her, do you?” Pascale still looked concerned.
“At our age, who needs to get married? He’s not going to have kids. All they need is to have a good time together. I think that’s all either of them wants.”
“Good,” she said, looking relieved.
“And what about you? Are you going to be reasonable and go to the doctor? I don’t care if you feel better, you might have picked up some really nasty bug. Maybe you need antibiotics.”
“All I need is sleep.” She was so exhausted, she could hardly get out of bed suddenly, and she spent the entire morning every day waiting for afternoon to come so she could take a nap. She was still sleeping at five o’clock that afternoon when Eric, Robert, and Gwen came back from a sail. Diana was lying on a deck chair in the garden, reading, and John had gone to the nearest hotel to send a fax to New York.
“How was your sail?” Diana asked with a slow smile, as she glanced at Eric. She had been thinking about him all afternoon, and some of the things Gwen had said. She was still angry at him, but she could conceive of the possibility that one day, her hurt and disappointment migh
t actually diminish. She had been thinking of some of the things they’d done over the years, the things she loved about him, and although she hated him for what he’d done, she could almost understand it. Maybe it was a last grab at his youth. She wasn’t entirely sure she could blame him for that. And when he looked at her, he paused for an instant. For the first time, he had seen something different in her eyes.
“It was nice,” he said, and as he walked past her, she moved her legs on her deck chair, and he stopped for an instant, and then sat down. “I missed you today,” he said hesitantly, as the others went back into the house. “I was thinking all afternoon, while we sailed.”
“So was I,” she said without elaborating, but he could sense that some of the ice had melted from around her heart.
“I really want to work this out. I know I was wrong. And I can’t expect you to believe me or trust me again so soon. But I’d like to think you will again in time.”
“I’d like to think that too,” she said honestly. Their friends had talked to both of them, but what Gwen had said to her had touched her most. Her words had been heavily weighted by the pain her own mistakes had caused. And it was obvious that she had carried the burden of regret ever since. “We’ll see” was all Diana could promise him now.
But when they went back to their room late that afternoon, she seemed to have a lighter step, and when Eric said something funny to her, she laughed.
“Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” Eric asked her, and she thought about it for a minute and then nodded.
“What do you suppose the others want to do?”
“Let’s just go out the two of us for a change. They can manage for themselves.” Eric was so relieved to be talking to her again. The tides had turned.
Pascale decided to stay in bed and sleep, and John had gotten a package of papers from his office and wanted to do some reading. And Robert and Gwen decided to walk around St. Tropez and have something to eat at the port.
They were sitting at the Gorilla Bar again late that night, talking and laughing, when he looked at Gwen and took her hand, and without further explanation, he said, “Come on, let’s go home.”
“Are you tired?” She was startled by his suddenly wanting to go back, but he seemed happy and in good spirits, and they paid the check, and drove back to the villa in her Deux Chevaux.
The house was quiet when they got there. Eric and Diana were still out, and John and Pascale’s lights were out and they had gone to bed. Gwen and Robert whispered like teenagers as they came up the stairs.
“Good night,” she said, as he kissed her, but he hesitated for a long time before leaving her. And then he looked at her and felt like a kid.
“I was wondering if … I thought maybe … do you want to sleep in my room tonight, Gwen?” he asked softly, blushing in the dark.
“I’d love that.” They had proceeded thus far with great caution, and had felt no pressure to go farther than they felt able to at the time. But things suddenly felt different to him, he knew they were both ready, and for the past few days he had felt oddly at peace about Anne. He had had a dream the night before where she had been laughing and smiling and waving at him, and she kissed him good-bye. He didn’t know where she was going, and he was crying when he woke up, but they were tears of relief and not grief. Somehow, he had the feeling that she was all right. And he had described the dream to Gwen.
He put a single light on in his room, and Gwen walked in behind him slowly, and saw the photograph of Anne on his bed table, and for an instant it touched her heart. It was so sad to think that he had had a loving companion for so long, and now he was alone. But he had his children, and his memories of the life they’d shared. And now he had Gwen. He had a lot.
He stood looking at Gwen for a long moment, as though savoring what they were about to share, and then ever so gently he held out his hand. She took two steps toward him and put her arms around him. She wanted to take away all the hurt that he had felt, and comfort the loss.
“I love you, Robert,” she whispered, “everything’s going to be all right.” He nodded, and there were tears in his eyes as he kissed her, tears of good-bye to Anne, and of love for Gwen. And then slowly, they were enveloped in their passion, their kisses seemed to devour them, and moments later they were lying on his bed. He already knew, from seeing her in a bikini, how spectacular her body would be, but it was not only that he hungered for now, it was her heart.
And when afterward they lay in each other’s arms, sated, sleepy, content, he held her close to him, and she looked up at him and smiled. “You make me so happy,” she said, and meant it. He pulled her closer to him, unable to find words for a moment. She was one of the great gifts of his life.
12
THE NEXT MORNING, WHEN THEY CAME OUT OF ROBERT’S room to go down to breakfast, they ran into Diana, who was looking worried. She had just stopped in to see Pascale, who was violently ill again, and John had already made an appointment for her at a local doctor. He was no longer willing to listen to her insisting she was all right. Clearly, she was not.
“What do you think it is?” Gwen asked Eric over breakfast. Diana had made them all scrambled eggs that day.
“I’m not sure. I think she may have picked up some kind of nasty bacterial infection. She needs antibiotics, before she winds up in the hospital. They may admit her for a few days anyway. She’s getting dehydrated from throwing up.” But he didn’t look as worried as John.
And after breakfast, when Robert and Gwen went into town to mail some letters, Diana turned to her husband with a knowing smile. “Who do you think I saw coming out of Robert’s room this morning with a big grin on her face?”
He looked amused by the question, and pretended to think about it. “Let’s see … hm … Agathe?”
“Yeah, sure.” They had come home late themselves the night before. They had had a lovely evening, a good dinner, and had even gone dancing. It was the first bridge back from the nightmare where they’d been for the past two months. They still had a long road back to safety, but they had started back at last.
“No, it was Gwen,” Diana said triumphantly, as though she had approved of her all along.
“That’s too bad. I sort of hoped it was Agathe. It would be so much fun to see what outfits she’d take with her to New York. I’m glad they’re happy,” he said, looking serious again. “They both deserve it.” Like the others in the group, he had come to like her, and Robert had never looked as well. It had been seven months since Anne had died, a long, sad time for him. And by some standards, he had gotten back into life fairly quickly, but Eric knew that those things can’t be measured. And whatever was right for Robert was acceptable to him. “She’s a nice woman, and he’s a good man.”
“I wonder what his kids will think about it,” Diana said pensively, as Eric shrugged.
“He’s a grown man, he has a right to do what he wants.”
“His kids may not agree with that.”
“Then they’d better get used to it. He has a right to a life. Anne would have wanted that for him.” Diana nodded, and knew that that much was true. Anne had been practical and sensible to a fault. “Just because he’s with Gwen doesn’t mean he’s forgotten Anne. The kids should get that in time.” Diana nodded again, as John came into the room. He and Eric had discussed it at length, and John was taking Pascale to the doctor, and said he hoped they’d be back in time for lunch. Eric wanted her to be seen by a local internist and to get a battery of tests.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Diana volunteered, but John said they’d be fine. Or at least he hoped Pascale would be, once they gave her some medicine. And Eric and Diana were relieved to see that, no matter how rotten she felt, she didn’t actually look that bad. It was obviously just a bug. Although John had an unspoken terror that it might be something worse, and once they got home, he wanted their doctor to go over her with a fine-toothed comb. But they were all leaving in another week, and the medicine should hold h
er till then. He didn’t have much faith in French doctors, or in anything in France.
And he regaled Pascale with his hatred of all things French on their way to the doctor. By the time they got there, she was ready to strangle him. And while they were waiting for the doctor, she threw up again and started to cry, which completely unnerved John.
“I feel so awful,” she said mournfully. “I’ve been sick for a week.”
“I know, baby. We’ll get some medicine for you, and you’ll be fine.” And as they sat there, waiting, he even thought about taking her home to New York.
They ushered her in to an examining room finally, took her vital signs, looked into her eyes and at her tongue. They took her blood pressure, and weighed her, and a nurse in a ragged white dress and sandals wrote it all down. Nurses in France were not as pristine as in New York, but Pascale was used to it and didn’t care as much as John.
And when the doctor saw her finally, he asked her a long list of questions, nodded a lot, jotted some things down, and drew some blood, and then told Pascale he’d call her at home. He told her he didn’t want to give her any medication until he reviewed the test results. And she left, knowing as little as she had when she’d come.
“What did he say?” John asked worriedly when she emerged finally. She’d been gone for more than an hour, and he’d been worried sick about her.
“Not much,” she said honestly. “He said he’d call me when he got the results.”
“Results of what?” John looked panicked.
“He took some blood.”
“That’s it? That’s all? What kind of moron is he? Eric said he should give you antibiotics. Let me talk to him.” He was ready to attack the nurse at the desk, but Pascale insisted that they go home.
“He’s not going to give me anything till he gets the results. That makes sense. He thought it might be salmonella. I may have to come back and give them some samples, depending on what he finds in my blood.”
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