“Do you remember the doctor on the list?” Timmie asked, staring blankly out the window, as the landing gear came down.
“The one who took care of you when your appendix ruptured?” Timmie nodded. “What about him? Did he cancel? Should I take him off the list?” Jade had a thousand details to keep track of, and as usual, by the time they got to Paris, they were all stressed and exhausted, but Milan had gone well, and so had New York.
“No, he’s coming.” She hesitated for a moment, and then went on. “He’s getting divorced.” She added no further comment, and Jade stared at her.
“Are you telling me something?” Jade looked puzzled. “Do you like him?”
“He was very nice to me when I was sick. And yes, I like him. But not like that. I’m perfectly happy on my own. He’ll probably be a mess for a while anyway.” And so was she, after losing Blake. She felt like the walking wounded. She kept wondering how he was.
“That sounds to me like you like this doctor, Timmie.” Jade smiled at her, wondering how long the ice queen phase would last. Timmie was capable of holding out for a long time, and often had, convinced she would never go out with a man again. She was firmly entrenched in that point of view now. But eventually, that always changed.
“I told him we were coming to Paris today. He asked. I wonder if I’ll hear from him.” She looked at Jade cautiously as she said it, and her assistant was intrigued. There was something about the way she talked about him that was sending up flares for Jade. It was good to hear her talk about normal pursuits, rather than mourning the child.
“You might,” Jade said vaguely, and then decided to warn her. “Beware of married men, Timmie. Even if he says he’s getting divorced, it could take him years.” After her own bitter experience with her married lover, Jade was extremely sensitive on the subject, and somewhat paranoid. Timmie only nodded. She wasn’t worried about Jean-Charles. There was nothing between them anyway. And she was in no mood for romance.
“I’m not going out with him. He’s just coming to dinner,” Timmie said vaguely, deciding silently that if he called her, he might be interested. And if he didn’t call before the dinner party, he obviously wasn’t. It would be interesting to see. There had never been anything flirtatious between them during her surgery and convalescence, but she had liked talking to him. There was something about him that she trusted, and made her feel safe whenever he was near.
The plane landed on the runway then, and she didn’t mention him again. She was too busy to think about him, but the day of the show and dinner party afterward, it occurred to her that he hadn’t called. The message was clear. No interest. Oh well. It was no big deal. The good news was that she was so busy, she had also had less time to think of Blake, although her heart still ached whenever she did.
They were as crazed as ever, before and during the show, but it went off brilliantly. The press loved it, the buyers were already placing orders. And by late that afternoon, before the dinner, Timmie felt as though she’d been on her feet for years. She was exhausted but elated, as she always was after a show, and wished she could lie down for a few minutes and get some sleep. But Jade had scheduled two interviews back-to-back before dinner. Timmie barely had time to change her clothes, and then run down to the private dining room to greet her guests. The press was late as always, the buyers came in a block, two of their biggest clients had just walked in, and then right behind them, she saw Jean-Charles, waiting politely to enter. She had been talking to their biggest client, when she broke away and went to greet him. As she had seen him dressed before, when he came to visit her after dinner parties, he was wearing a well-tailored dark blue suit, he was even taller than she remembered, and his eyes were an even brighter blue. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and high heels, with her hair pulled back, and diamonds on her ears. She looked elegant and simply dressed, and the dress was shorter than she liked, but it had a youthful, sexy look that appealed to her. It was one of her own dresses from that season, and had been a big hit.
“Good evening,” the doctor said politely, but his eyes lit up when he saw her. Despite the warmth in his eyes, among the unfamiliar guests around him, he looked a little stiff.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she said with a warm smile. She was disappointed that he hadn’t called her during the week, but there was no reason why he should. And he was only a dinner guest that night, not a date.
“I hear the show was a big success,” he complimented her, and she looked surprised.
“How did you hear that?”
“One of your guests was saying it on the way in. He said it was your best one yet.” She looked pleased at his kind words, and introduced him to several guests before she left him again. He was going to have to fend for himself. She had thirty people to say hello to.
She didn’t see him again until they were ready to be seated at the table. She had no idea where Jade had seated him. She had all the most important clients and buyers seated close to her, and Jade had done the rest. She noticed him taking his place at the other end of the table, and their eyes met, just as she sat down. He smiled at her, and then went on chatting to the woman seated next to him, a buyer from a department store chain based in New York. The press were seated at either end, with the Vogue editors closer to her.
It was an evening of work for Timmie, and she was sorry she couldn’t talk to him, but she had to be the ambassador and spokesperson for Timmie O. She had a job to do, and she didn’t get a chance to speak to him again until he was ready to leave, and came to say good night to her.
“You were very kind to invite me,” he said warmly.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk,” she said sincerely. “These evenings are always work for me. I hope you had a decent time.” The food and wines had been delicious, although she knew he didn’t drink much. But at least the dinner had been good, and everyone seemed pleased. The atmosphere of the room was elegant and intimate and there had been a profusion of flowers on the table, low enough so people could talk across the table. Jean-Charles mentioned how pretty the flowers were.
“I was wondering if … perhaps … When are you leaving Paris?”
“Day after tomorrow,” she said, surprised that he asked her, since she hadn’t heard from him all week.
“Would you like to have a drink tomorrow? I’m afraid I’m not free for lunch or dinner. Are you free for drinks?” he asked, looking nervous and cautious. Timmie was startled. She hadn’t expected to see him again after that night. And she was completely free the following day. They had set aside one day to wrap up. This time she had no time to spend a few days on her own in Paris, as she almost always did. They had important meetings in New York before they went back to L.A.
“I’d like that very much,” she said in answer to his invitation. It would be nice to sit and talk to him again, without a flock of people around. It had been a busy night for her. “What time?”
“Six o’clock?” he asked, and she nodded.
“The bar?” He hesitated, and she realized that he might be nervous about being seen with a woman during the awkwardness of ending his marriage. “Would you prefer my suite?” He had been there before, and it seemed more discreet for him.
“That sounds very good. I’ll see you then,” he said, shook her hand, and left.
She didn’t mention his invitation to Jade that night. They were both too tired to discuss anything except the obvious success of the party. Both Jade and David had to get up early the next morning, to make sure that everything got packed. Timmie was planning to make her final round of phone calls until noon.
It was late the afternoon of the next day, when Jade asked Timmie what she wanted to do for dinner, that Timmie mentioned that she was having a drink with Jean-Charles Vernier.
“You are?” Jade looked almost as surprised as Timmie had when he had asked her.
“Yeah,” Timmie said casually. “No biggie. It was nice of him to ask.” Jade had never seen him before the di
nner the night before, and was willing to concede that he was a good-looking man. “Do you want to have dinner in my room afterward, or would you rather go out?” Timmie would have taken them if they wanted to, but both David and Jade looked wiped out. They had been working like dogs for hours, and she was tired herself after the grueling week.
“Do you mind doing room service?” Jade asked apologetically, and with a look of relief Timmie said it would be fine.
She left them then to brush her hair and put on decent shoes, and wash her face, before her drink with the doctor. She wasn’t sure why he had asked her. He obviously wasn’t interested in dating her, after not contacting her all week, and he had been very circumspect at the dinner. She was sure he was just being friendly, which was fine with her. They had enjoyed so many conversations when she was sick. She put on black pants and a black sweater, high heels, and brushed her long red hair with a bright green clip on one side. She looked elegant but sexy and casual, as the bell rang and she opened the door. He looked extremely serious for a moment when she first saw him, and then he smiled. His eyes always lit up when he did. She remembered that from four months before. He had kind, gentle, warm blue eyes. And this time he was wearing a blue shirt, blazer and slacks, and a serious dark tie. She noticed too as he walked in that his shoes were freshly shined.
“Good evening, Timmie,” he said cautiously as he walked in. She thought he looked nervous, which was unusual for him. He never had before. “Did you work hard today?” he asked, as they both sat down and she asked him what he wanted to drink. He asked for champagne, since he was off duty. She had a glass of mineral water, as she sat on the couch across from him.
“Yes, I did work hard today,” she said with a smile. “The day after the show is always a lot of work. Thank you for coming to the dinner party last night.” She had seen that he’d been sitting between two intelligent women, and hoped he’d had a decent time.
“It was very nice.” He smiled warmly, and she caught a glimpse of his friendly, kind expression, familiar from the hours they’d talked in the hospital four months before. “You were nice to include me.”
She was dying to ask about the state of his marriage, but didn’t dare. Instead, she inquired about his kids, and he said they were fine.
“Thank you for your card last fall,” she said with a shy smile. “I almost answered it and then thought that was silly.” He pulled his shirtsleeve back then with a broad smile, and she saw the watch.
“It was a very handsome gift. You were very bad to do that,” he scolded her.
“I like being bad.” She laughed. “You were very good to me when I was sick.” It seemed aeons ago now. She suspected that other patients had given him similar gifts before her, but it was always a little touchy as a single woman, giving a gift to a man, particularly if he was married, which seemed to be no longer the case now, given what he’d said on the phone when she called to invite him several weeks before.
“You’re going to New York tomorrow?” She nodded. “For business or pleasure?” he inquired, and she laughed again, as he began to relax. She looked beautiful when she laughed.
“There is only business in my life, doctor. I don’t have pleasure. I just work. I believe that was our first argument before my appendix exploded. I told you I couldn’t deal with it until after the show.” They both remembered it perfectly, and she recalled how annoyed he was, and the speech he’d made her that there were some things in life that were more important than work, like her health. And she hadn’t listened to him, of course.
“That was very foolish,” he scolded her, “and you paid a big price for it, I’m afraid.” She nodded, thinking about it, and their eyes met as he set down the glass. “You’ve been well since I last saw you?” He looked at her as though it mattered to him, and she was touched. He was a kind man. She remembered thinking that she was sorry he was married, when she first noticed his wedding band. She looked again, and saw with some surprise that it was still there. He saw her glance, and nodded.
“It’s hard to give up old habits. I’m not sure I’m ready to be perceived as a single man.” It was an honest admission, and a big change for him, she knew, after twenty-seven years of marriage. He had been so adamant four months before that people needed to stay married, despite diverging paths, separate interests, and whatever other challenges they had to face, particularly if they had children. She wondered what had changed to finally make him give up the opinions he had then.
“I wore my wedding band for a long time too,” she said gently, and then decided to ask him. “What happened?”
He sighed and looked at her, as though facing the mystery of the ages. “To be honest with you, Timmie, I’m not sure. I just couldn’t do it anymore. We had the same arguments we always did, and I woke up one day, and I knew that if I did this for another year, it would kill me. We had become total strangers. I have great respect for her, and she’s the mother of my children after all. But our lives have been separate for years. We’re not even friends. We were beginning to hate each other. I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to be that person. I realized that I’m dead inside. Or at least I thought I was. Now I realize that the marriage was dead, not I. I’m not looking for anyone else. I just don’t want to hurt or feel that way anymore. I knew I had to get out.”
Timmie knew it was the sort of thing that did most marriages in, the vast rift that happened sometimes when people were too different, and only got worse if they forced themselves to stay together. They continued to drift further apart day by day. “Our marriage died somewhere along the way,” Jean-Charles continued very openly with her, “and everything we ever felt for each other died with it. I knew we had to finally bury it. It was cruel to both of us, and even our children, not to. It’s a terrible thing to end a marriage, but perhaps it’s worse to live that way.” It was almost exactly what she had said to him four months before. He hadn’t been ready to hear it then. And now she was amazed to hear him say it, given how normally proper, formal, and reticent he was about his personal life.
“How are the children taking it?” She knew divorce was far less common in France. In the States it was an ordinary occurrence, here it wasn’t as much so, and their reaction was likely to be stronger and different than what one would expect from kids in the States.
“We told them a few weeks ago. It was terrible. And I’m not entirely sure they believe us. My wife asked me to stay until the end of the school year, and I agreed to do it. We are selling our apartment, which will also be a big change for the children. Or my daughters anyway, both of them are still at home. My son is in medical school, so we rarely see him. It’s not an easy time for any of us.”
Timmie could tell just from looking at him that he felt extremely guilty. He had chosen his own relief and eventual happiness over theirs, and she knew from everything he had said to her before that it went against the grain of everything he believed in for him to do that. He was the last person she had expected to get divorced. And she knew he must truly have felt that his own survival was at stake to make such a serious decision. She sensed correctly that the last four months must have been rough, or simply the last straw. “I hope that eventually my daughters will forgive me. My son is older and a little bit more understanding. This was very hard on my wife and the girls.” She was suddenly reminded of Jade and all the agony her married boyfriend had gone through.
“They’ll adjust in time. Children always do. They love you. I’m sure this is very hard on you too. It’s a big change for all of you. When did you make the decision?”
“Just after Christmas. The holidays were a nightmare. I decided I just couldn’t do that again. So after agonizing a great deal over it, I decided not to stay. It was a terribly hard decision.” His eyes told her that it was. It was all very new, for all of them. Christmas had only been seven weeks before. Not even two months yet. He must have been struggling with planning to tell his children when she called him the month before. It was a
hard time for him, of loss, adjustment, and change. An enormous change for them all.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at him gently. She could see how difficult this was for him, and her heart went out to him. Their eyes met and held for a long silent moment.
“The marriage has been dead for years,” he said hoarsely.
“I sensed that,” she said carefully, “when we talked about it last October. But you had very different views about it then. I didn’t agree with you about staying in a bad marriage, but everyone has to come to these decisions on their own. I never had a chance to make the choice. My husband just hit me over the head with the news, and then left.” The news that he was leaving her, that he was gay, that he had a male lover he was madly in love with. And all of it just months after Mark’s death. Even now, she could hardly think of the trauma it had been for her without wanting to cry, and she could see that there were tears in Jean-Charles’s eyes. And without thinking, she reached out and took his hand in her own, just as he had once done for her when she was scared. “It’s going to be all right, you know. The children will get used to it. Your wife will be okay. You’ll find your feet again. It’s just a very hard time right now. But people adjust to these things. The pain and the frightening part don’t go on forever. Eventually, you won’t even feel guilty,” she said, smiling gently at him, as he nodded, grateful for her kindness, and even the warm gesture of her hand, which he hung on to. He didn’t want to let it go, and neither did Timmie. They were rediscovering their bond of four months before, and it was subtly different now. They were not patient and doctor, but woman and man. It was a more level playing field, for both of them, but there were no masks or roles to hide behind.
“It’s hard to imagine,” he said softly. “Thank you.”
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