“That might work pretty well, actually. Maybe I should go out now and call you from the phone booth.”
“I wouldn't answer,” he said seriously.
“Why not?” She seemed surprised, as he looked at her with an odd expression.
“I'm on a date. First one I've had in years. I have a lot to relearn, I'm afraid. I'm not sure I remember how you do this.” There was something very vulnerable in his eyes as he said it, and when she answered, it was barely more than a whisper.
“Is this a date? I thought we were friends.” He had completely confused her.
“Can't we be both?” He looked at her honestly. He had come to New York for more than just business, although he hadn't said it to her. After talking to her for the last six months, he wanted to see her.
“I suppose we could,” she said, suddenly looking nervous.
“You're spilling your soup,” he pointed out to her, and she grinned. She had been completely taken aback by his question. “If you're going to go out to dinner with me, India, you can't spill your soup all over the table.” He sat back and looked at her, as she put her spoon down.
“I'm not sure I understand what you're saying.” She didn't want to. She didn't want him to change anything. He had already told her they were only friends, at Christmas, before Doug left her. She had been standing in a phone booth, freezing, when Paul told her that he didn't want to be the light at the end of the tunnel for her. And if that were true, how could this be a date? What did he mean? And why had he changed it? “I think you're scaring the pants off me, if that's an appropriate thing to say in this case.”
He couldn't help smiling at her. She looked very beautiful and very young, and naive. She hadn't dated even longer than he hadn't. It had been more than twenty years since she met Doug in the Peace Corps. “Am I really scaring you, India?” He looked suddenly worried. “I don't want to frighten you. Do you mean that?”
“A little. I thought we were just friends. That was what you said … at Christmas….”
“Did I? That was a long time ago.” Then he did remember. And he had meant it. But three months had gone by. The agony of Serena's memory had dimmed a little bit. And Doug had left her. “I'm not sure what I said, but I was probably being very stupid.” She could feel her heart pound as he said it. “I think it was an extremely tasteless remark about not being a light at the end of the tunnel.” She didn't understand what had happened to change it. He sighed as he looked at her, and took her hand carefully in his own, and held it across the table. “I get scared sometimes …and sad … I miss Serena …and I say things I probably shouldn't.” Did he mean now? Or then? India could feel tears fill her eyes as she watched him. She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize what they had. She didn't want to lose him. And if this went too far, he might regret it, and run off to the safety of the boat again. Maybe tins time forever.
“I don't think you know what you're doing,” she said, as he gently wiped her eyes with his napkin.
“You may be right. But why don't you let me figure it out, and not worry about it so much. Just trust me, India. Let's figure it out together.” She closed her eyes for a minute, enjoying the moment, and then nodded. And when she looked at him again, he was smiling. He liked what was happening to them, and what he was feeling for her. Instead of mourning the end, he was savoring the tenderness of the beginning.
Their mood lightened again after that, and he told her funny things that had happened on the boat, people who had gotten drunk or misbehaved, and a woman who had had an affair with his captain, and another woman who had left the portholes in her cabin open and nearly sank the boat. India shuddered at that story as she listened to him.
“I'll remember not to do that.”
“I'll remind you. It's so embarrassing when we sink, and very hard on the carpets.” Her eyes grew wide as she listened. She knew less about sailboats than Sam did, and Paul was taking full advantage of it, although the story about the portholes was true, and they had little reminders in the cabins now, in case anyone forgot it. “You know,” he went on, looking calmly at her, “it's remarkable. The Sea Star is so well built, we've only capsized once.” Her mouth opened, as she looked at him with terror, and then realized what he was doing to her.
“I hate you,” she said, sounding just like Sam, and he laughed at her.
“I'm not frightening you, am I? I thought you'd be impressed. She actually does very well when we capsize, spins right around, and comes right back up again. All we have to do is dry the sails off. I'll show you.”
“Forget Antigua,” she said firmly. But by then, she knew what he was doing. He was just having a little fun with her. “Tell those stories to Sam. At least he won't believe them.”
“He might.” Paul's eyes danced. He was enjoying her company, the dinner, and the wine. It was the most fun he'd had in a long time, longer than he wanted to think of. “I'm very convincing.”
“Yes, you are,” she said with a shy smile. She liked his sense of humor, and his style, and she was as at ease with him now as she'd been on the phone. They had had a wonderful evening. And after dinner, they walked slowly back to the Carlyle. It was still early, and he asked her if she'd like to come up for a few minutes before she drove back to Westport. She still had time. She really didn't have to start back until later. And the sitter had agreed to stay over in case India came home too late, which meant she had all the time she wanted.
“My suite isn't too bad, but it's not exactly Versailles,” he apologized. “I think it's someone's apartment. They lease them for months at a time.” He didn't offer to take her back to the bar, and they went up in the elevator as he told her about the Sea Star, and told her what to expect in Antigua. He said they could visit a number of other islands. In fact, they could do anything she wanted.
The elevator stopped at nine, and he let her into a large, comfortable room that was handsomely decorated, though nothing like his apartment. It was predictably impersonal, but there were flowers everywhere, and a bar with everything they could have wanted. He poured her some wine, but she didn't drink, since she still had to drive back to Westport. There were fruit and pastries as well, provided by the hotel, but neither of them was hungry after the huge meal they'd just eaten at Daniel.
India sat down on the couch, and Paul sat down next to her. He was still talking about the boat, and then he stopped and looked at her, and she felt the same electricity course through her that she had felt when she first met him. Aside from his obvious good looks, there was something irresistibly attractive about him.
“I can't believe we're sitting here,” he said. “I keep expecting to wake up on the boat, and have someone tell me you're calling.”
“It is funny, isn't it?” She smiled, remembering all the times they'd talked, and all the things they'd said, for so many months, the times she had called him from freezing pay phones before Doug left her. She laughed when she thought about it. “I thought I was going to get frostbite.” She had carried rolls of quarters for months, so she could call him whenever she wanted.
“We've been through some hard times, you and I,”he said quietly, but thinking only of her now, and not the people they had lost, or been at other times. All he could see were her eyes, the gentleness in them, and all he felt was what had grown between them in his months on the Sea Star.
He said nothing more to her then, but leaned over very quietly, took her in his arms, and kissed her. And as she felt his lips on hers, she had the answers to all her questions. It was a long time before they spoke again, and when they did, his voice was soft and hoarse with passion. “I think I've fallen in love with you, India,” he whispered. It was not in any way what he had expected, or what she had thought would happen between them when she saw him. She had long since told herself that this would never happen.