“I’d love to see it, but not if I have to stop talking. I suppose I could write.”
“I kept a journal while I was there. Not talking gives you time for some fairly deep thoughts.”
“I suppose it would,” he said easily. She asked him then where he had lived when he grew up in New York. “The Upper East Side,” he replied. “The building isn’t there anymore. They tore it down years ago. And the apartment where I lived with Michael was on East Seventy-ninth. It was pretty small. That was before the books really took off. We had some lean years for a while,” he said without embarrassment. “When my parents died, they had pretty much eaten through the family money. They were fairly spoiled. Particularly my mother. The house in Ireland belonged to her family, and since there were no male heirs, they sold it. I’m glad I got it back. It’ll be nice for Michael to have one day, although I doubt he’ll want to live in Ireland, unless he’s a writer.” Finn grinned at the thought and Hope smiled. Ireland was famous for its no-tax policy for writers. She knew a number of them who had moved there. It was irresistible.
They left for the Thai restaurant then, and had an excellent meal. And while they ate dinner, Finn asked her what she was doing on New Year’s Eve.
“Same thing I do every year.” She grinned. “Go to bed at ten o’clock. I hate going out on New Year’s Eve. Everyone is crazy and drunk. It’s a great night to stay home.”
“We have to do better than that this year,” Finn insisted. “I’m not crazy about it either, but you have to try at least. Why don’t we do something ridiculous like go to Times Square and watch the crystal and mirrored ball fall down, or whatever it does. I’ve only seen it on TV, although I imagine the crowd is pretty awful.”
“It might be fun to photograph,” she said thoughtfully.
“Why don’t we try it? If we hate it, we’ll go home.”
She laughed, thinking about it, and agreed.
“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed, looking pleased.
“How long are you here?” she asked, as they finished dinner.
“I haven’t figured that out yet. I might do some work with my editor before I go back.” And then he looked at her carefully. “The rest depends on you.” She felt a tingle of nervousness run down her spine then. She didn’t know what to answer when he said things like that, and he had a few times. Knowing that he had come to New York to see her was an awesome responsibility as well as a gift. She was just finishing dessert when he looked across the table at her, and took her breath away with what he said. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Hope.”
She didn’t want him to have said what he just did, and she had no idea how to respond. Let me know when you figure it out? Don’t be silly? So am I? She didn’t know what she felt for him yet, but she liked him a lot. Of that, she was sure. But as a friend or a man? It was too soon for her to tell. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, reading her mind. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
“How can you know that so soon?” she asked, looking worried. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. She wondered if love happened that way at their age.
“I just do,” he said simply. “I’ve never felt like this before. And I know it’s fast. But maybe it happens that way sometimes, when it’s for real. I think at our age, you know what you want, who you are, and what you feel. You know when you’ve found the right person for you. It doesn’t have to take a long time. We’re grown-ups, we’ve made mistakes before. We’re not innocents anymore.” She didn’t want to tell him that he had a lot more experience than she, but he knew that about her anyway. He could tell. And she had been married for nearly half her life, and single for only the past two years. “You don’t need to feel pressured because I feel that way, Hope,” he went on. “We have a lifetime to figure it out, or as long as you want.” She had to admit, he was sweeping her off her feet. And this was completely different from the time she’d shared with Paul. Finn was wilder, more creative, his whole existence was more free form. Paul had been extremely disciplined in every way, and deeply involved in his work. Finn seemed more engaged in life, and the world. And his was a broader world, which appealed to her a lot. Hers had broadened a great deal too in the past few years. She was open to new people, new places, new ideas, like her monastery in Tibet and the ashram in India, which she would never have thought of going to before she lost Mimi and Paul.
They walked back to her apartment after dinner, and this time he came up for a drink. She was nervous that he would try to kiss her—and she didn’t feel ready to yet—but he didn’t. He was relaxed, but gentlemanly, and respected her boundaries. He could sense too that she wasn’t prepared to deal with more than what they were doing. Walking, talking, going out for meals, getting to know each other. This was why he had come to see her, and exactly what he wanted. And she felt as though no one had been as devoted to her so soon after they met. Paul wasn’t in their early days, he was too busy, and he was sixteen years older, which was very different. She and Finn were almost the same age, of the same generation, and had many of the same interests. If she had made a list of everything she wanted in a man, Finn had it all. But she hadn’t wanted anyone since Paul. And now Finn was here, big as life. And she had only known him for a week. But so far, it had been a very intense week, and they were spending a lot of time together.
They went to the MOMA the next day, and the Whitney Museum the day after. They went to all her favorite restaurants, and his. He met with his agent to talk about a new book deal. And much to her amazement, she missed him for the few hours he was gone. Other than that, he was with her every minute, except when he left her at her loft at night. He still hadn’t kissed her, but he had mentioned again that he was falling in love with her. She had just looked at him with worried eyes. What if he was playing with her? But even more frightening was the thought that maybe he wasn’t. What if this was for real? What would happen? He lived in Ireland, and she in New York. But she wouldn’t let herself think about it yet. It was too soon. It just didn’t make sense. Except even Hope knew that it did. It made a lot of sense, for both of them. She could base herself anywhere in the world, and they knew it. And so could he. It was an ideal situation. They seemed perfectly matched.
Hope didn’t tell Mark Webber, her agent, what was happening when he called. And there was no one else for her to tell. Mark was her closest friend, and she liked his wife as well. They invited her over to have dinner, but she declined. She didn’t want to tell him Finn was in town to see her. She knew Mark would be shocked, or surprised at least, and probably fiercely protective and suspicious. She wanted to spend the evening with Finn. So she said she was too busy with some new work, and Mark promised to call again the following week, and told her not to work too hard.
And on New Year’s Eve, as they had agreed earlier in the week, she and Finn went to Times Square. She took an old camera with her, to take shots in black and white. They got there around eleven, and artfully wended their way through the crowd that had been waiting there for hours. The characters around them were extraordinary, and Finn enjoyed watching it through her eyes. They were having a great time.
At midnight, the ball fell from the top of a flagpole with lights flashing inside it, and everyone screamed and cheered. There were prostitutes and drug dealers, tourists, and college kids from out of town, every form of humanity around them, and she was so busy taking pictures of them at midnight that she was startled when Finn put her camera aside and stood before her, and pulled her into his arms. And before she knew what had happened, he was kissing her, and everything around them was forgotten. All she was aware of and remembered later was Finn kissing her, and feeling totally safe and protected in his arms, wanting the kiss never to end, and as she looked into his eyes afterward in amazement, she knew that she was falling in love with him too. It was the perfect beginning for a new year. And maybe a new life.
Chapter 7
Finn stayed at the Hotel Mercer for the next two weeks. He
met with his agent and publisher, taped two interviews, and saw Hope every chance he got. He was ever present, ever willing to adjust his schedule for her, and wanted to spend every moment with her that he could. Hope was startled by how fast the relationship was moving, although they hadn’t slept together, but she enjoyed his company. She was torn between reminding herself that this was more than likely just a passing thing for him, and wanting to believe it was real, and allowing herself to be vulnerable to him. He was so open, kind, loving, attentive, and they had such a good time together, it was impossible to resist. He couldn’t do enough for her, and did everything imaginable to please her, with a myriad of thoughtful gestures. He brought her flowers, chocolates, books. More and more, she was letting herself be swept away on the tidal wave of emotions he engulfed her with. And after three weeks of constantly being in each other’s company, he said something that brought her up short, as they walked through Washington Square Park one afternoon on their way back downtown from a long walk.
“You know what this is, don’t you?” he said earnestly, as she had a hand tucked into his arm. They had been talking about Renaissance art, and the beauty of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, which they had discovered that they both loved, and Finn was very knowledgeable about. He had many interests and numerous talents, not unlike Hope. They seemed a perfect match in so many ways. And he was by far one of the most interesting men she had ever met, and the most attentive. He was truly the handsome prince of whom every woman dreamed, and loving at the same time. He asked her about all the things she cared about and wanted, and they were constantly surprised to discover they loved many of the same things. He was like the mirror image of her soul.
“What is it?” she asked, smiling up at him with a tender look in her eyes. There was no question, she was falling in love with him, after knowing him for only weeks. It had never happened to her before. Not even with Paul. Her romance with Finn was moving with the speed of sound. “Whatever it is, it’s wonderful. I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.” She had a feeling that if she talked to someone about their budding relationship, they wouldn’t understand it, and would tell her to take her time before jumping in. She was, but she also had a powerful sense that this was a man and a situation she could trust. She didn’t doubt it. There was no reason to. She knew who he was, and there was a soft hidden side of him that touched her to the core.
“This is fusion,” he said softly. “Where two people become one.”
She looked at him with an inquisitive expression, startled by the word and asked him what he meant.
“Sometimes when people fall in love,” he explained, “they are so close and so well suited to each other, that they blend together, and you can’t tell where one person starts and the other ends. They merge, and can’t live without each other after that.” It sounded a little frightening to her, and not what she had in mind. She and Paul had had a good marriage until he got sick, and Mimi died, but they had never “fused” or become one person. They were two very distinct people, with different personalities and needs and thoughts. It had always worked well for them.
“I don’t think I agree with you,” she said quietly. “I think you can be just as much in love as separate people, standing beside each other, each one whole and adding to the other, or complementing each other, without ‘fusing’ and becoming one. That sounds unhealthy to me,” she said honestly. “That’s not really what I want,” she said firmly. “I want to be a whole, individual person, and I love the whole person you are, Finn. We don’t need to be one. Then each of us would lose an important part of ourselves that makes us who we are as people.” Finn looked disappointed by what she said. It was the first time they had disagreed.
“I want to be part of you,” he said sadly. “I need you, Hope. It’s only been a short time, but I already feel like you’re a part of me.” It still didn’t sound right to her, even if it was flattering or meant he loved her. It sounded claustrophobic and extreme, especially so soon. They hardly knew each other. How could they fuse into one person? And why would they want to? They had both worked hard to become who they were. She didn’t want to lose that now. She was falling in love with who and what he was, she didn’t want to fall in love with herself. It felt all wrong.
“Maybe you don’t love me as much as I love you,” he said, looking worried and hurt.
“I’m falling in love with you,” she said, looking up at him with her deep violet eyes. “There’s a lot we need to learn about each other. I want to savor that. You’re a very special person,” she said gently.
“So are you. So are we,” he insisted. “Our two parts make one bigger, better whole.”
“That’s possible,” she conceded, “but I don’t want either of us to lose who we are in the process. We’ve both worked too hard to achieve what we have, to lose that now. I want to stand next to you, Finn, not be you. And why would you want to be me?”
“Because I love you,” he said, pulling her close to him, and stopping to kiss her hard. “I love you more than you know.” The way he said it was touching, not scary, but it was too much in such a short time. “Maybe I’ll always love you more,” he said, looking pensive, as they walked on again. “I think there’s always one person in a couple who loves more than the other. I’m willing to be that one,” he said generously, and it made her feel slightly guilty. She thought she loved him, but she had loved Paul for so many years, it was going to take her time to get used to Finn, and settle him in her heart. She had to get to know him better first, and there was plenty of opportunity. They were with each other constantly, except when she went back to her loft to sleep at night. He changed the subject then, and she was relieved. Not only did she have to get used to loving him, his notion of fusion made her uncomfortable, and it wasn’t what she wanted in a relationship or had in mind. “What are we doing this weekend?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment before she answered. “I was thinking it might be nice to go to the Cape. I’d like you to see the house. It’s very simple, but it’s a relic of my childhood. That house means a lot to me.” He smiled as soon as she said it.
“I was hoping you’d ask me up there,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t we spend more than a weekend there, if you can spare the time? It might do us both good.” He was in no hurry to go back to Ireland. They were both masters of their own fate and time, and he was enjoying the time he was spending with her, getting to know her. And he was in no hurry to get back to his writing, he said. She was more important to him.
“I guess we could spend four or five days, or even a week. It can get very bleak in winter, and cold. Let’s see how the weather is when we get there.” He nodded and agreed.
“When do you want to go?” he asked, looking excited. She had no pressing assignments at the moment. Her schedule was clear, and so was his, other than the editing he had to finish. They were going to a party at the MOMA that night, and he had a publishing event to attend the following week. They were both enjoying discovering each other’s worlds, and in each case, they left the limelight to the other and were happy to take a backseat. It seemed like a perfect balance between two well-known, successful, creative people, whose worlds complemented each other. It was just what she had said earlier, they stood beside each other, without having to fuse into one person. Everything about that idea seemed wrong to her.
“Why don’t we go to the Cape tomorrow?” Hope suggested. “Bring lots of warm stuff with you.” And then she looked faintly embarrassed to broach a delicate subject, but she wanted to speak up clearly. “I’m not ready for us to sleep together, Finn. Are you okay with sleeping in the guest room?” It had been a long time since Paul, and she wanted to be sure of what she was doing. There had been no one of importance in her life since her husband, which made this a much bigger deal. Whatever it was, if it was going to be lasting or not, she had to figure it out, and what she felt about it, before she took that leap.
“That’s fine,” h
e said with an understanding look. He seemed to have an unlimited ability to make her feel comfortable and happy. He let her set the pace, be as close or as distant from him as she felt at any given moment. He was the kindest, most loving man she had ever met. He was truly a dream come true. And if she had been praying for a man to come into her life, which she wasn’t when he turned up, he would have been the answer to those prayers. There was nothing about him she didn’t like so far, or that made her uneasy, except perhaps his silly ideas about fusion, but she was sure it was just his way of expressing insecurities and wanting to be loved. And she was coming to love him, for who he was, not for being a part of her. Hope was a very independent person, and she hadn’t come through all she had by being part of someone else, nor did she want to start now. And she knew that her monks in Tibet wouldn’t have approved of that idea at all.
The party they went to at the museum that night was lively and crowded. It was an important event—the opening of a major show. The main curator of the museum came to talk to her and she introduced him to Finn. They chatted for a few minutes, and several photographers snapped their picture for the press. They made a striking pair. It was definitely a milieu where Hope was the star, and Finn was less well known, until they heard his name. But being somewhat in the background didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He was warm, friendly, charming, and unassuming, even though he was the famous Sir Finn O’Neill. No one who would have seen him would have thought he was a show-off, or arrogant in any way. He was more than happy to let Hope be the star she was at the museum event, and he seemed to enjoy talking to lots of people and admiring the art. He was in good spirits when they took a cab back to the hotel. They were leaving for Cape Cod in the morning.
Matters of the Heart Page 8