“Not yet. We need to give them time. They're already upset about Doug's girlfriend. They spend their weekends with her.” Paul thought to himself about the bad luck of arriving on the scene second. The prospect of driving back to New York at four in the morning didn't thrill him.
In the end, he stayed till six, and slept fitfully, and although he dreamt of airplanes, he didn't dream about Serena. India tiptoed downstairs with him, and promised to come into the city that night to see him. But as he drove back to town, he realized that this wasn't going to be easy. If nothing else, the distance and lack of sleep were going to kill him. But she was worth it.
He was seeing Sean on Thursday night, and on the weekend the kids were going to their father's, and India was going to come to the city and stay at the Carlyle with him. So far, they had it all organized, but the prospect of commuting to Westport on alternate nights, and hiding from the kids, seemed somewhat complicated to him. And all he could think of was the perversity of God's sense of humor. At his age, the prospect of a woman with four children and a dog, and a house in Connecticut, was going to provide an interesting challenge. But she was also the most exciting woman he had ever slept with. That made up for something. The dog maybe.
But at four o'clock that afternoon when he left the office for a massage and a nap, he was exhausted. And he only looked slightly better when he took her to dinner that night at Gino's.
“How were the kids?” he asked with a look of concern. “Did they say anything? Did they hear me leave this morning?”
“Of course not.” She smiled at him. With the flexibility spawned by fourteen years of motherhood, she looked undaunted. But then again she was fourteen years younger than he was, though he had already proven to both of them that in some areas at least, it was not going to be a problem.
But that night when they got back to the hotel, they were both so tired they fell asleep watching TV, and she didn't wake up until seven the next morning.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked when she saw what time it was. “The sitter's going to kill me! I told her I'd be home at midnight.” India grabbed the phone, leaning a breast enticingly over him, and told a complicated tale about a friend who'd had an accident, and having been in the ICU with her all night. And then she called Gail and asked her to take her car pool. The entire situation was resolved in a matter of minutes, and they settled back into his bed again, and made up for what they hadn't done the night before, with extraordinary vigor.
And then Paul ordered room service for both of them, and she sat across from him wearing only his shirt, and looking gloriously sexy.
“Have you ever thought of an apartment in the city?” he asked cautiously, as she read the Wall Street Journal. She had always read it after Doug left in the morning, and she had continued his subscription after he left her.
“Doug said we'd move back after Sam went to college.”
“I may not live that long,” he said vaguely, and she looked at him cautiously over the paper.
“This must be hard for you,” she said sympathetically. He had only been home for three days, and it wasn't hard yet, but he could see the potential.
“Not yet. But it will be. And you can't keep running back and forth to Westport.” He didn't like to think of her on the road at four o'clock in the morning, or himself either. At least it wasn't snowing. But eventually, it would be.
“There are only three more months of school,” she said practically. But neither of them wanted to face reality at this point. Their relationship had leapt full blown from birth to manhood. It was something to think about, realizing he hadn't fully considered the logistics of her situation, with everything from sitters to car pools. It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with that with Sean, who was thirty-one. And he also remembered that Sean hadn't done much for his love life. He had systematically hated everyone his father dated. Paul hadn't met Serena till Sean was in college. And Sean hadn't liked her then either. It had taken him years to form any kind of friendship with her. And by then, he himself was married. Thinking of him then reminded Paul that he was taking him to dinner that night. It meant he had a night off from the commute to Westport, and on Friday, India was spending the weekend with him in the city.
They finished breakfast and got dressed, and she left with him, when he left the hotel to go to the office. And he smiled at her as she got into her car again and looked up at him in all her devastating blond beauty.
“I think I'm a little crazy, but I love you,” he said, and meant it. And as he watched her drive away, he forced himself not to think of Serena. It was always hardest for him when he left India. When he was with her, he didn't let himself think about Serena. This was still a major adjustment. But he had jumped into it with both feet, and he wasn't sorry.
He mentioned India to Sean that night, and told him about them, and he was surprised when Sean was less than enthused, and almost paternally cautious.
“Isn't it a little soon, Dad?”
“To be dating?” Paul was surprised by his reaction. Even once they made friends, Sean had never been that crazy about Serena. He always thought she was too flashy. And India was anything but that, she was quiet and discreet, and distinguished and unassuming. But Sean hadn't met her, so he didn't know it.
“Maybe,” Sean said, in answer to his question. “It's only been six months, and you were so much in love with Serena.”
“I was, and am. But don't you think I have a right to be with someone?” It was an honest question, and deserved a fair answer.
“Why? At your age, you don't need to get remarried.”
“Who said anything about marriage?” He flinched at his son's words and extrasensory perception. He had been thinking about it only that morning, when contemplating the commute to Westport. There was no way they could do that forever.
“Well, if you don't want to get married, why date? Besides, you have the Sea Star.” It seemed like a reasonable trade-off to him. And Paul was less than amused to realize that, at fifty-seven, his son thought he was too old to be dating.
“Since when are you so interested in yachting? Besides, I just thought you'd be interested in what I'm doing. One of these days, I'd like you to meet her.”
“If you're not going to marry her, Dad, I don't need to meet her,” Sean said bluntly, instantly creating an impossible situation. If Paul introduced India to him now it meant they were getting married. And to provide a little distraction, he told him instead about her work and her enormous talent.
“Great,” Sean said without much interest. “Does she have kids?” Another psychic stroke of genius on his part. Paul nodded vaguely, as Sean honed in on him further. “How many?”
“A few.” Paul said it with a feeling of rising panic, and Sean sensed it.
“How many?” he repeated.
“Four.”
“Young ones?”
“Nine to fourteen.” He decided he might as well tell him. Why hide it?
“Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” He was beginning to wonder.
“You can't even stand my kids for more than ten minutes.”
“Yours are younger. And they cry all the time. Hers don't.”
“Wait. They'll go to jail. They'll get drunk. They'll get into drugs. They'll get pregnant, or maybe she will. Dad, you'll love it.”
“Don't be such a pain in the ass at your age. You didn't.”
“You don't know half the stuff I did. Besides, you didn't let me. Dad, look, at your age, you don't need a woman with four kids. Why can't you find someone a little older?”
“How about Georgia O'Keeffe? Is that old enough for you? She must be in her nineties.”
“I think she's dead,” Sean said without humor. “Come on, be serious. Go back to the boat and relax. I think you're having a midlife crisis.”