Turning Point

by Danielle Steel

  He drove her home after that and walked her to her door. He stood smiling at her for a minute, and gently touched her lips with his own, but didn’t ask to come in.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said, looking confused. She had never been as tempted in her life to do something so utterly crazy.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said gently, and watched her go inside.

  When she got into her apartment, she sat down on her bed with a dazed look, and tears slid slowly down her cheeks. She didn’t know if she was happy or sad. She missed Andy, and the boys, and their safe, familiar world. But she wanted to be in Gabriel’s arms and to let him kiss her again. She had no idea what to do and just sat there and cried.

  * * *

  —

  When Bill got to St. Pancras Station, he took a taxi to Athena and Rupert’s house on Belgrave Square. He had the cab wait for him while he rang the doorbell, and Athena answered it with a look of surprise, as though he were the Ghost of Christmas Past.

  “Oh right, I forgot…I thought you said tomorrow morning.” She was as beautiful as ever, with a halo of blond hair around her exquisite face. He always forgot how stunning she was, until he saw her again. She had hardly changed in the years he had known her, and she smiled as their daughters came bounding down the stairs and screamed with delight when they saw their father and threw themselves into his arms. Bill beamed as he held them for a minute, and Athena told him to come in, while she helped the girls finish packing their bags. She glanced at him again over her shoulder with a look he remembered only too well, as she walked up the stairs. It was the look that had torn his heart out a thousand times. She was a beautiful woman, but she was never meant to be his. She waved him toward the library while he waited for them, and he wandered around the room, admiring the paintings and the books. The house was magnificent, and Rupert had spoiled her. It was a far cry from their cozy little Victorian in Noe Valley, or his stark apartment now.

  Bill knew he would never have provided a home like this for her, although he could have one day. But this wasn’t how he wanted to live. It reminded him of his parents’ townhouse in New York, or his brother’s apartment on Fifth Avenue. He was different from them, and always had been. There was something missing in him. He had no desire to live in luxury or show off. He loved his work at SF General, the real people he worked with, and the outdoors. Athena’s parents had been right. He would never have been able to keep her for long. He had been the wrong man. He had suited her for a minute in her rebellious days as a twenty-three-year-old. She had now become everything she’d grown up with, and he never wanted. He wouldn’t have chosen to live this way, even for her. It woke him up to the fact that the years he had mourned her had been wasted. He would never have fallen in love with her if he met her now, no matter how beautiful she was. She was someone to admire, like a magnificent piece of art, but not to have.

  She came back down the stairs with Pip and Alex five minutes later, carrying the bags they were taking to the hotel. They were excited to be going with him, and Athena smiled at him again.

  “I’m sorry to get here so late,” he said to her as the girls circled them like puppies.

  “It’s fine, Rupert is hunting in Scotland this weekend. I always eat late. What are you doing in Paris?”

  “Attending a conference on terrorism and emergency services, to compare with ours in the States.” She made a face and laughed. She had never liked his specialty, and he remembered his father-in-law’s suggestion that he give up medicine and come to work for him. That had never been an option for him, not even to keep her.

  “It sounds dreadful,” she said and laughed, and they looked at each other for a moment, wondering how they had ever gotten married. But he was glad that they had, with Pip and Alex as the result.

  “It’s actually very interesting. You would hate it.” He laughed, relieved. He finally felt free of her. It had taken years. The girls were anxious to leave then, and Athena looked at him in that enchanting way of hers that used to make his heart pound, but it no longer did, which was a comfort now.

  “Have a wonderful weekend,” she said and kissed the girls.

  “We will,” he said as he smiled at his daughters. “I’ll bring them home on Sunday afternoon. I’m catching a four o’clock train back to Paris. And I’ll be here again next weekend. The weekend after, I’d like them to come to Paris.” He had emailed it all to her, but she was never good at making plans, or remembering them when she did. She lived in a world all her own.

  “See you next weekend, then. I’ll be out on Sunday when you bring them home.” She waved as they hurried down the stairs to the taxi waiting at the curb, and he caught a last glimpse of her as she closed the door. She was the woman he had loved so passionately, and mourned for so long. It was a relief to realize that he no longer loved her, and that seeing her no longer hurt. There was a wonderful feeling of freedom to it, as he put an arm around each of his girls, and they sped toward the hotel, talking about everything they were going to do over the weekend. His time with his daughters was what he lived for. It was perfect. He was happy as they walked into the hotel. There wasn’t a woman in the world who could make him feel that way.

  * * *

  —

  After a big breakfast at the hotel the next morning, Bill took Pip and Alex to the Science Museum. He always tried to do something educational with them, instead of just indulging them, although he did that too. Pip begged him to take them to Harrods, and they went after lunch. She loved to shop for clothes. They visited the Tower of London, which he had done with them a dozen times, but they always enjoyed it. They got back to the hotel in time for tea, with watercress, cucumber, and egg salad sandwiches, and scones with clotted cream and jam. They watched movies in his room afterward, and had hamburgers from room service for dinner.

  On Sunday, they went for a walk in Hyde Park, and then he took them to their favorite pizza restaurant for lunch. He got them back to Athena’s just after three o’clock. The nanny opened the door, with the twins standing next to her. They were very handsome little boys, and looked just like Rupert. The girls threw their arms around Bill’s neck and held him tight, and thanked him for a wonderful weekend. He was planning to take them to the theater next time. The concierge at Claridge’s was trying to get tickets to something suitable for them.

  He kissed them both goodbye, and said he’d be back on Friday. They were going to go to Euro Disney when they came to France. Since he didn’t have a home in London, they stayed busy and kept moving, doing everything he could think of to entertain them. It made his visits extra special. He did the same with them in San Francisco, mostly with outdoor activities, like walks on Stinson Beach, short hikes on Mount Tam, and trips to Lake Tahoe. They were never bored when they were with him. The previous Easter he had taken them to Rome and Venice, and they’d ridden in a gondola. He had already promised them a ride up the Eiffel Tower when they came to Paris.

  He was quiet on the train ride back to Paris, thinking about them. They were growing up as typical British children. Pip liked saying she was half American but Alex was still too young to care about it. It always made him sad to leave them, but less so than usual this time, since he knew he would be seeing them on Friday, and for two more weekends after that. He had paid an additional amount on the airline ticket he’d been given, and was going home through London, so he could spend the last weekend with them. Seeing them now would make the wait more bearable until they came to San Francisco in the summer to spend a month with him.

  He looked peaceful and happy as he walked into the building on the rue du Cherche-Midi, and saw Wendy parking a bike in the Vélib’ stand. He waited for her to catch up to him so they could walk upstairs together. The elevator had been out of order all week.

  “How was your weekend?” she asked him pleasantly. She could see that he was relaxed and in good spirits. He always wa
s when he’d spent time with his daughters.

  “It was perfect.” He beamed at her. “We ran around all weekend. They’re coming here in two weeks. I’d love for you to meet them.” She was touched that he would ask, and smiled as they stopped in front of her door.

  “I’d like that very much,” and then she thought of something. “I bought a roast chicken this morning. They only had a whole one, and it’s too much for me to eat. Have you had dinner?”

  “No.” He smiled at her. “And to be honest, I’m starving. I was going to walk down the street to the bistro after I drop off my bag in the apartment. I meant to eat on the train but I fell asleep. My daughters wore me out.”

  “Why don’t you come over in five minutes? I’ll get dinner organized.” He left her to drop off his bag, and was back five minutes later. She had put the chicken on a platter on the small dining table, with a slab of pâté, some cheese, and she was making a salad. She set a fresh baguette on the table. “I’ve fallen in love with the food hall at Le Bon Marché. Valérie told me about it. It’s fantastic. I’m going to get fat here, I’ve been living on pâté and truffled cheese,” she said guiltily, but she was tiny.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He helped himself to some of the pâté, a chicken leg, and the salad, then she handed him a bottle of red wine to open. They sat down to the simple meal, which was delicious. It was a perfect end to the weekend. “What did you do this weekend?” he asked her.

  “Stephanie and I went to the Louvre yesterday, and did some shopping. I went to Notre Dame today. There’s so much I want to do here. There’s a Picasso exhibit at Le Petit Palais I want to see too. I never get to museums in San Francisco. I’m too lazy to go into the city on the weekend. I just hang around at my house in Palo Alto.”

  “I take it you live alone?” He was curious about her. He knew she wasn’t married and didn’t have children, but he figured there had to be someone. She was very attractive and she hadn’t looked at any of the men in the group with any particular interest. She hesitated in answer to his question. “No boyfriend?” That surprised him, she was a very pretty woman.

  “There’s someone, but it’s complicated. We don’t see a lot of each other. I don’t really have time to with work anyway. He’s a cardiac surgeon. He’s busy. What about you?” She was equally curious about him. He was very reserved, and hadn’t said much about his personal life, except that he had two daughters in London.

  “I live alone, and I’m happy that way,” he said easily, helping himself to some of the cheese and the baguette. “We lead a crazy life with the work we do,” he said, using the same excuse she had, and then decided to be honest with her. “My wife left seven years ago with the kids, to go back to England. It blew the lid off my life, and I spent about five years being angry and bitter. I saw her the other night when I picked up the kids, and I suddenly realized that I don’t hate her anymore. I’m not angry or bitter, and when I looked at her, I think I saw for the first time how completely different we are. There’s no way it could ever have worked. I just didn’t see it then. She hated California, and eventually San Francisco, for all the reasons I love it. After that she got to hate me for taking her there. She’s remarried and has two more kids. We were young when we met ten years ago, but the truth is I have absolutely nothing in common with her, and never did. I was a momentary lapse for her. And if I met her today, I wouldn’t talk to her for five minutes. I have nothing to say to her, except about our children. She’s living the life that I left New York to get away from.

  “She was like a flower dying of thirst in San Francisco. All she wanted to do was go home, and I became her jailer. She hated me for keeping her there. I would have had to give up practicing medicine to go back to England with her, as her father suggested. That was never an option for me. I would have drowned there, and died of boredom. I was devastated when she left and took my girls. I stayed angry for years. And suddenly when I saw her the other night, I realized the war was over. I don’t know when it happened, but the steam is gone and everything else went with it. I don’t even know her. I never did. It was a fantastic feeling of freedom. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad at someone. Now I can use that for something else. She got over me a long time ago. It took me years longer. I would have been miserable if I’d stayed married to her. It took me all this time to figure that out. I never had room for anyone else while I was furious at her. It nearly killed me when she took the girls and left.”

  “It’s funny,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “I think I’ve been hanging on to something that should have died a long time ago too. It should never have happened either. I think I had to come here to realize it. It’s amazing how long you can hang on to a mistake. I’m going to try and deal with it when I go back. I’ve wasted six years on a relationship that’s never going to work or go anywhere. I didn’t want to see that.” And she had given up so much to be with Jeff, her friends, all the pastimes she enjoyed, her dreams, and a big piece of herself.

  “It takes a lot of courage to let go,” he said simply, and she nodded. She liked talking to him. He was a sensible, down-to-earth person. She would have liked to get to know him better and be friends with him. She hadn’t even had room in her life for friends for years.

  “Gabriel seems very taken with Stephanie,” she commented. They had all noticed it. “I wonder where that’s going to lead.”

  “Into deep water if she’s not careful. They’re both married. That seems dangerous to me. And complicated when she goes back. It’s easy to forget that when you’re far from home and real life,” Bill said wisely.

  “I like our group,” Wendy said, at ease with him. “And I like the French docs too. I wasn’t going to come on this trip. I’m glad I did.” She smiled at him.

  “Me too. I leapt at it, as an excuse to see my girls for four weekends. But it’s been really interesting so far.” They agreed that they’d both been impressed by the emergency services drill that had been organized for them.

  “I wonder what they have in store for us this week,” she said. They would get their schedule on Monday.

  “A lot more hospital visits. How do you like working at Stanford?” he asked her, since he’d done his residency there.

  “I love it. SF General must be a tough place to work.”

  “It’s fantastic. It suits me. I love the cases we get, as long as I don’t get shot in the process.” He grinned at her. “It’s probably the only trauma unit in the city where patients shoot each other in the ER.”

  “I can live without that,” Wendy said, horrified by the thought. They talked about work for a while. They both loved working at teaching hospitals, and he was on the faculty at UCSF, like the rest of the staff at SF General. Then he got up, and thanked her for dinner. It had been a nice end to the weekend for both of them.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said easily. They both felt as though they’d made a friend, and Bill hoped to see her again when they got back to San Francisco. There was no pressure, no romance, no agenda. It would be nice to have a female friend for a change. They worked in a rough-and-ready world, which ate up one’s personal life, if you let it. It sounded like she needed to broaden her horizons too. It was easy to let your life shrink to the size of the trauma unit. It was a hazard of the kind of work they did. They went home too exhausted and emotionally drained to do much else. He always marveled at the doctors he knew who went home and managed to give more to their spouses and children. Some days he was too empty after work to even talk to another human being. You gave everything you had to give at work, and the people at home felt cheated. He’d seen it happen a lot in trauma work. There were easier specialties, but Bill knew they would have bored him. He loved what he did.

  He went back to his apartment next door to hers, and was glad he’d had dinner with her. They were the gladiators of their profession, and they worked under constant pressure. A split
second could make the difference between saving a life and losing a patient.

  Wendy was thinking about him as she washed the dishes and put them away in the tiny kitchen. The apartments weren’t fancy but had everything they needed. She felt like a student being there, going to their meetings every day. And she liked what they were learning from their French partners. There were some new techniques and equipment they didn’t use in the States yet, and a different attitude about terrorism and trauma due to their more frequent incidents and present risks.

  She admired Valérie too, and her take on the psychological aspects of the world they lived in. She wanted to get to know her better. Wendy had enjoyed everyone she’d met in the program so far. She would have liked to tell Jeff about it, but contact with him was taboo.

  She knew he had left for Aspen that weekend with his wife and children, and what she had said to Bill was true. All hope for a future with Jeff had gone out of the relationship while she wasn’t looking. She knew now she’d never have more with him than their stolen Wednesday nights. She was angry at herself for settling for so little, but she didn’t know if she had the guts to leave him. She was so used to building her life around him and putting everything else on hold, even though she saw so little of him. Thinking about him with Jane in Aspen still made her sad. His wife had everything Wendy wanted and would never have. She was giving the relationship serious thought while she was in Paris.

  It also occurred to her that most people in trauma and ER work didn’t seem to have stable home lives. She, Tom, and Bill didn’t have partners, and it sounded like Stephanie’s marriage was shaky. On the French side, Gabriel’s life wasn’t solid either, and Marie-Laure, Valérie, and Paul were alone too. They gave everything they had to their jobs. They had nothing left when they came home at night. At least Bill seemed to have a good relationship with his kids, when he saw them. But Stephanie had admitted to her how torn she was between her work and her family, and how guilty she felt because of it. Wendy wondered if she had a better life after all. Maybe if she were married to Jeff, they’d have nothing to give each other either. Jeff’s priority was his work, just as hers was. How much room did that leave for a relationship or another person? Maybe not enough.