I love you, you crazy thing' . It had been quite a morning.
I love you too, she whispered hoarsely, and pulled him toward her, but this time he looked down at her with a question.
Wait a minute, before you walk me into this windmill again, would you like to go to another room, or get off the bed maybe ' how about the couch or the bathtub? he asked, as he gently felt her breasts, and then let his hands wander slowly downward.
Never mind ' it's okay. ' She was smiling at him, and he laughed softly.
You say that now ' but what about later? he whispered.
You may have to make love to me again, just to calm me down. ' I think it has a soothing effect ' it's very therapeutic ' she said, reaching out for him, and touching him with her lips until he moaned softly. I love you, Jack, she said as she touched him again gently.
I love you too, baby, he said, and then their passion took over, and the insanity of the morning was instantly forgotten.
Chapter Seven
The rest of the New Year weekend went peacefully. Jan called her mother to check on her once, but Amanda was careful to reassure her. She called Louise too, and Jack called Julie, and then Jan and Paul to wish them a Happy New Year.
They stayed at Amanda's house on New Year's Day, made love again that afternoon, and that night went to Malibu to stay at his place. He had a small, comfortable house he had lived in for years, filled with well-loved, handsomely worn objects. There were deep leather chairs, tables covered with books, and some beautiful artwork. And she was surprised to find how at home she felt there.
They walked on the beach the next day, holding hands, and talked about their children. She was still worried about Jan, and hoped that she would be able to get pregnant.
It's going to kill her if she doesn't, Amanda said sadly. Having children had meant a lot to her, and she could easily imagine how traumatic it would be for Jan not to have them.
What about you? Jack asked her quietly on the way back to the house that afternoon.
What about me? She didn't understand the question.
I don't want you to get pregnant, he said honestly. I assume that's still an issue. At fifty she was still on the cusp, but she was still so youthful in so many ways, he didn't think her body had changed yet. They had been careful anyway, and he was always responsible about the risk of AIDS, particularly given his previously somewhat libertine lifestyle. But he had been inactive for a while, mostly due to coincidence and circumstance, and the enormous demands of the Christmas season at Julie's. And ever since Amanda had crossed his path, he had had no interest in other women. But after his next AIDS test in the upcoming few days, he would like to give up condoms. But the last thing he wanted was to get her pregnant.
I never thought of that, she said, glancing up at him. She had been faithful to her husband for twenty-seven years, including the past year since he died. I can't imagine that at my age that's really a problem. She hadn't gotten pregnant in over twenty years, not since a miscarriage she'd had when Jan was in kindergarten. She still remembered how disappointed she'd been, and how traumatic it was. But the thought of getting pregnant now seemed just plain silly, and she said so.
Not half so silly as the sight of me running away to Brazil, or signing up as a merchant seaman, he said bluntly, and she laughed, but he didn't. He'd been through that often enough over the years, women who claimed they were pregnant by him, or called to say they were late, or had forgotten to take the pill. It was a constant headache.
Well, wait a while, she smiled. One of these days, I guess it won't be a problem. She had thought about the change, but had no sign of it yet. Her doctor had said it might not happen for another year or two, or more. And unlike Jan, she had never had a problem getting pregnant.
I can hardly wait, he grinned, but he also agreed with her. Even if technically she still could get pregnant, at fifty it didn't seem very likely.
He cooked dinner for her that night, and they sat in front of the fire and watched the full moon hang over the ocean. It was easier for her here, she didn't have to think of Matt. Suddenly, it seemed like a whole new life with Jack Watson. It was amazing to her how, after the agony of the past year, and feeling as though her life had ended, she suddenly felt new again, and young and alive, and as though they had been meant for each other. She wondered if it was wrong to move on this way, but she knew that even if it was, she could no longer stop it. All she wanted was to be with him.
They felt like orphans when he went back to work. She didn't know what to do with herself, and he called her half a dozen times a day, and came by the house for lunch, to make love to her, or just to be with her. And when he went back to the store, she always thought of a multitude of reasons to call him, or to ask him something.
Am I being a pest? she asked one day. It was the second time she had called him in an hour. And he had only left her half an hour before that. They were going to their favorite Thai restaurant that evening. It was the perfect hideaway, and they knew they wouldn't run into anyone they knew there. She still didn't want to bump into their children. For the time being anyway, they had agreed to keep the romance a secret.
You're never a pest. I love talking to you, he smiled, putting his feet on his desk, as Gladdie came in with a cup of coffee and he thanked her. And then he had an idea. Why don't we go to San Francisco for the weekend? I have another site I want to look at up there, on Post Street.
I'd love that, she said. They decided to go that week, and after he hung up, Jack buzzed for Gladdie. She came in with a worried frown, and her notepad.
Something wrong? He looked up at her. In the past six months, they'd had six shipments held up in customs.
I probably shouldn't ask, she said with obvious concern, but are the kids okay?
Sure. Why? He seemed surprised. Maybe she knew something he didn't.
I've just noticed that Mrs. Kingston has been calling you. I thought maybe ' I wondered if Paul and Jan ' She was embarrassed to ask him. But they'd been married for three years, had no kids, and the world moved pretty fast in L.A. Maybe they were having problems, and Amanda and Jack were talking about them.
No, they're fine, he said cryptically with a smile, and as their eyes met, Gladdie suddenly wondered. No one else had been calling him since Christmas. No one important anyway, and even when they did call, he had Gladdie tell the girls he was busy. It took her a minute, but sharp Gladdie got the picture.
I see, she said, suddenly amused. Amanda was quite something. But Gladdie would never have thought ' life sure was funny.
Just make sure no one else sees, Glad. We don't want the kids to know yet.
Is it serious? She was so close to him, and had worked for him for so long, that she dared to ask him questions no one else would. She was privy to a lot of information.
He hesitated for a beat before he answered. Could be ' And then he decided to be honest with her. He was crazy about Amanda. He had never felt like this for any woman since Dori, and Gladdie never knew her. All she knew were the collection of beautiful women who had filed through his life since she'd been there. Yes, it is. Their eyes met as he nodded, and he looked happier and younger than she had ever seen him.
Wow! That's pretty impressive. The kids'll be pleased, won't they?
I think so, but Amanda doesn't. We're going to wait a while to see how it goes before we tell them. He asked her to make reservations for them then, in the presidential suite at the Fairmont, and an appointment with the realtor for the space on Post Street.
They flew up to San Francisco on Friday afternoon, and as she walked through the fabulous suite with the unforgettable view, it felt like a honeymoon to Amanda. They had dinner at Fleur de Lys the first night, and room service on the second. And on Saturday they went to look at the commercial space, and he got excited about it in spite of himself. Despite the inevitable headaches of opening a new store, he was falling in love with the idea of bringing Julie's to San Francisco, and he said as much to Amanda.
I must be nuts to even contemplate the headaches that go with it, at my age. But lately he had been feeling about half his age, ever since he'd been with Amanda. And he couldn't stop talking about ideas for the new store, the architecture, the decor, the subtly different merchandise he wanted to sell here. He felt like a kid again, and he had always had a soft spot for San Francisco.
He wouldn't really mind spending some time there, particularly if Amanda joined him. They talked about it as they walked back to the hotel from Union Square. It was a steep walk up the hill, and they were breathless but exhilarated when they got back to the Fairmont. He was in great spirits, and so was she, especially when they went back to bed for the rest of the morning.
She hated to leave on Sunday afternoon. It had been the perfect weekend, and on Monday she had lunch with her daughters at the Bistro. Louise was looking well, but Jan seemed very down, and Amanda was worried that she had had bad news from her doctor. But before she could ask her daughters anything, they both commented on how well she looked.
You look terrific, Mom, Jan said, looking relieved. She had been worried about her again ever since New Year's. Maybe it had just been a bad morning, but her mother's behavior had been so odd.
Thank you, sweetheart. So do you. But Jan's eyes looked so sad. They were halfway through lunch before she decided to talk about it.
Well, Paul finally went to the doctor, she said, after a pause, and then tears filled her eyes as she continued. Amanda reached out and touched her hand, and for once even Louise looked worried about her.
And? her sister prompted her. Is he sterile?
No, she said, wiping away a tear, he's fine. And so am I. They have no idea why we haven't gotten pregnant. They just said it might take more time, or maybe it'll never happen. They said that even perfectly healthy people don't get pregnant sometimes. No one knows why. I guess it's just not meant to happen. She started to cry and Amanda reached into her handbag for a tissue. Jan blew her nose and then sighed and went on. Maybe we'll just never have kids. I asked Paul about adoption again, and he said he'd rather not have children. He only wants a baby that's part of his biological family, so that rules out any kind of adoption. She looked devastated and Amanda's heart felt as though it were breaking.
He might change his mind, sweetheart. And you might still get pregnant. I'm sure you will. Sometimes it takes people a very long time. And then you'll probably have four in a row and wish you could stop it. They both tried to cheer her up, but it was obvious from the way she looked at them that Jan didn't believe them. And when Amanda told Jack about it that night, he was sorry for both of them.
Poor kids. Christ, and when I think of all the times I've teased him. He must be ready to kill me.
I don't know if he's as upset about it as she is, Amanda said pensively, she was deeply worried about her daughter. She had looked so down about it, and so hopeless.
Maybe if they forget about it for a while, it will just happen.
That's what I told her. But I think in circumstances like this, it's all you think about. I have friends who went through it. He nodded, and they talked of other things. They always seemed to have a thousand things to say to each other. He talked to her a lot about the store, and asked her opinion about lines he was buying, particularly the high-end ones. She had great taste and a good eye, and she had already made some useful suggestions. And now he was particularly interested in her input in the store he was planning to open in San Francisco. The opening probably wouldn't be for another year or more, but he wanted to get started.
She liked going to the store on Rodeo to visit him, and Gladdie was impressed each time she saw her. There was no question that Amanda was very striking, but she was also very human, and the two women chatted sometimes. Gladdie was their only confidante and she loved knowing their secret.
The entire month flew by. They spent a weekend in Palm Springs, and in February he took her skiing in Aspen. They had a fabulous time, and ran into a number of his friends, all of whom recognized her. They were enormously impressed to see him with her, and much to her chagrin, there was a small blurb about them in the Aspen paper.
I hope no one calls L.A. This is no way to tell the children.
Maybe we ought to tell them ourselves one of these days. They had been inseparable for nearly two months now. And they'd been careful to avoid the L.A. press, by staying away from the kind of events that they covered.
But when she had lunch with Jan and Louise again, Jan was still so depressed that Amanda didn't have the heart to tell them. It seemed selfish somehow to brag about her own happiness when Jan was so unhappy. The only time she smiled was when she laughed and said something about Paul's father.
Paul thinks he has a serious girlfriend. He's really settled down. Paul says he looks half his age, and goes around grinning like a Cheshire cat. But he doesn't say anything about her. She's probably some nineteen-year-old bimbo. But whoever she is, she seems to be keeping him happy and out of trouble.
Knowing him, Louise said with a look of disdain, it's probably a set of quintuplets.
Now, girls, poor man ' he has a right to his own life, Amanda said nervously, feeling awkward.
When did you get so charitable about him? Louise asked, and then the conversation turned to other things. Amanda felt as though she had swallowed her napkin as she looked at them, wondering how she was ever going to tell them.
Amanda told Jack about it that night, and he laughed at her. You act like you expect them to think you're a virgin.
Worse. I'm their mother. You know what that means. No sex, no boys, no hanky-panky, except with their father.
They're adults. They can take it.
Maybe. But he hadn't convinced her. She knew her daughters.
They were staying in Malibu a lot these days, the weather was warm, the beach was heavenly, and she loved being in his house with him. Even after the initial shock of sleeping with him, she was still a little uncomfortable in her own house. It was easier staying at Jack's place. And she cooked breakfast for him every morning, before he left for work and she went back to her own place.
She was scrambling eggs for him the week before Valentine's Day when he wandered into the kitchen, and was surprised to see her looking unhappy.
Something wrong? She was always so sunny in the morning that it surprised him. He had the paper under one arm, and he stopped to kiss her on his way to get coffee.
I don't know ' not really ' I don't feel well. She'd had a headache the day before, and she was feeling slightly queasy. But lately, after thinking it would never happen to her, she had begun to think her body was going through changes. The signs had been very slight, but nonetheless she had noticed and wondered about it. Louise's kids had the flu last week when I dropped by. I probably caught it from them. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. It's not terminal. I'll survive it.
I hope so, he said, looking happy and relaxed as he handed her a mug of coffee. She set it down, and finished his eggs and toast. She had made a big bowl of fruit for him, and she nibbled on a piece of dry toast as she sat down at the table with him, with her coffee. She took a sip, and suddenly just the smell of it overwhelmed her, and he saw it. You okay?
I'm fine. But I think there's something wrong with the coffee. Has it been here for a while?
He shook his head, and then picked up the paper. I just bought it. Same brand I always buy. I thought you liked it. He looked disappointed. He liked pleasing her and doing whatever he could to make her happy.
I do like it usually. It must be me. I'll be fine in a minute. But after he left for work, she lay down, and she still felt queasy when she drove home later that morning. He called her there and offered to meet her for lunch somewhere, but she told him she thought she should try to sleep off her headache. And by that evening, when he picked her up, she was feeling better. And the next day she was fine. It obviously had been the flu. The next morning even the coffee tasted fine, and she was her usual brigh
t self. Until Valentine's Day, when he brought her a five-pound box of chocolate.
Good Lord! I'm going to weigh four hundred pounds if I eat this.
Good. You need it. He had sent her two dozen long-stemmed red roses that morning, and he was taking her to L'Orangerie for dinner, and he said he didn't give a damn if their children saw them. He opened the box of chocolates for her, and she picked one of the ones she liked best, but the moment she put it in her mouth, she couldn't eat it. He saw the look on her face, and raised an eyebrow. Are you feeling sick again? She'd been fine all week, but just as the coffee had the week before, the chocolate made her feel queasy.
I'm fine, she reassured him, and forced herself to eat the chocolate. But when he ordered caviar for her at L'Orangerie, she got that look again, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't swallow it, although she usually loved it.
I think you should go to a doctor. He looked worried. She was normally so healthy, and so exuberant, that her obviously feeling so ill frightened him more than he wanted to tell her.
Louise's kids had this thing for three weeks. Honestly, it's nothing. But she looked green, and she scarcely touched her dinner.
But in spite of his concerns about her, it was a nice evening anyway. They were both in good spirits, and that night they stayed at her place. They made love when they got home, and it was the happiest Valentine's Day she could remember.
And the next morning, sitting in her kitchen, she finally agreed to tell their children.
Why not share our happiness with them? he asked. What they had together was such a wondrous thing that he wanted them to know about it.
Maybe you're right, she agreed. They're old enough to deal with it.
They better be. We're grandparents, and if they can't deal with knowing about us, they deserve a spanking.
That afternoon, Jack called Julie, and Amanda called Louise and Jan and they invited them all to dinner at Amanda's. She was going to cook dinner for them, and then afterward, over Champagne, they would tell them. And at least then, as Jack pointed out, they could come out of hiding and go anywhere they wanted. They just wanted them to know that they were happy and in love. There had never been any talk of marriage between them, and Amanda knew full well how strongly Jack felt against it. His first wife had completely cured him.
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