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“Good. Then maybe you'll get going again one of these days. I'd be performing a service for the world if that was all I accomplished by calling.”

“For the world maybe, although you flatter me. I was never that great. But you wouldn't be performing a service for my children.”

“Lots of mothers work. They'd survive it.”

“And if I didn't?” She had the example of her own father dying when she was fifteen. And no one could tell her that couldn't happen, particularly with the kind of stories she was known for doing. The one in Korea would have been tame in comparison to the work she'd done before she was married.

“They'd survive it too,” he said sadly. “I won't send you on the really hot ones. This one in Korea is a little dicey, but it's not like sending you to Bosnia or something.”

“I still can't do it, Raoul. I'm sorry.”

“I know. I was crazy to call you, but I had to try. I'll find someone else. Don't worry about it.” He sounded discouraged.

“Don't forget me completely,” she said sadly, feeling something she hadn't in years, over the assignment she had just turned down. She really wished she could do the story in Korea, and felt deprived that she had to turn it down. Not resentful, just bitterly disappointed. This was the kind of sacrifice she had been talking to Doug about the night before, and that he had discounted so completely. As though what she had done with her camera for all those years, and giving it up for him and the kids, meant nothing.

“I will forget about you one of these days if you don't do something important again soon. You can't take pictures of Santa Claus forever.”

“I might have to. Get me something closer to home, like the piece in Harlem.”

“Stuff like that doesn't come around very often, and you know it. They let the staffers do it. They just wanted something more important out of that piece, and you got lucky.” And then, with a sigh, “I'll see what I can come up with. Just tell your kids to grow up a little faster.”

And what about Doug? How fast was he going to “grow up,” if ever? From the sound of it the night before, he didn't really understand that her career had been important to her. “Thanks for thinking of me anyway. I hope you get someone terrific to do it.” She was worried now about the Korean babies.

“I just got turned down by someone terrific. I'll call you again one of these days. And you owe me on the next one.”

“Then make sure it doesn't require my presence at the top of a tree in Bali.”

“I'll see what I can do, India. Take care of yourself.”

“Thanks. You too,” and then as an afterthought, “I just remembered, I'll be in Cape Cod all summer. July and August. I think you have that number.”

“I do. If you get any great sailboat pictures, call me. We'll sell them to Hallmark.” She had actually done that a couple of times, when the kids were really small. She'd been happy with it, and Raoul had been furious. As far as he was concerned, she was a serious photojournalist and shouldn't be taking pictures of anything or anyone unless they were bleeding, dead, or dying.

“Don't knock it. They covered my kindergarten costs for two years, that's something.”

“You're hopeless.”

They hung up after that, and she was upset about the call all day. For the first time in a long time, she felt as though she was missing something. And she was still looking glum when she ran into Gail that afternoon at the market. Gail was looking happier than usual, wearing a skirt and high heels, and as India approached her, she noticed that Gail was wearing perfume.

“Where have you been? Shopping in the city?”

Gail shook her head with a wicked grin, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lunch with Dan Lewison in Greenwich. He's not quite as devastated as I expected. We had a very nice time, and a couple of glasses of wine. He's a sweet guy, and after you look at him for a while, he's actually pretty attractive.”

“You must have had more than a couple of glasses of wine,” India said, looking at her unhappily. Even hearing about it depressed her. What point was there in having lunch with him? India just couldn't see it.

“What are you looking so down about?” It was rare for India to be in such poor spirits. She was usually pretty “up” about everything. She was always the one telling Gail to cheer up, and assuring her that their life was just “peachy.” Now she looked anything but, as she chatted with Gail, standing next to the produce.

“I had a fight with Doug last night, and my agent just called me with an assignment in Korea. Apparently there's some adoption racket where they're murdering the babies that don't get adopted.”

“Christ, how awful. Be grateful you didn't have to cover that one,” Gail said, looking revolted. “How morbid.”

“I'd have loved doing it. It sounds like a terrific piece, but it would have taken three to four weeks to hang around and get the story. I told him I couldn't do it.”

“Nothing new there. So why are you looking like someone died?” She had gotten to India the day before, in a way she never had in earlier discussions, and Doug's comments, and the call from Raoul, hadn't helped any.

“Doug made a lot of dumb comments last night about my career being sort of a plaything, a toy, and it was no big deal that I gave it up. There's something about earning your living with a camera that makes everyone think they could do it if they wanted to be bothered.” Gail smiled at what she said, and didn't deny it.

“What got into Doug?” Gail knew they didn't fight very often, and India looked particularly upset as she told her.

“I don't know. He's not usually that insensitive. Maybe he had a bad day at the office.”

“Maybe he really doesn't get what you gave up for him and the kids.” That was what India was afraid of, and she was surprised herself to find that it really mattered to her. “Maybe you should make your point by doing the story in Korea.” Gail tried to provoke her into doing it, but India knew better. She knew that would be driving the point home a little too firmly.

“Why should the kids have to suffer because he hurt my feelings? Besides, there's no way I could leave for a month. And we're leaving for the Cape in three weeks … I can't do it.”

“Well, maybe you should do the next one.”

“If there is one. I'm sure Raoul is getting tired of calling me and having me tell him I can't do it.” He hardly ever called anymore anyway. There just weren't many stories that suited her particular limitations.

“Doug will probably come home with an armload of flowers for you tonight, and you'll forget all about it,” Gail said, trying to look reassuring. She felt sorry for her. India was bright and beautiful and talented, and like many of them, she was wasting her life cleaning out the barbecue and driving car pools. It was a waste of an extraordinary talent.

“We're having dinner at Ma Petite Amie. I was looking forward to it, until he got me all riled up.”

“Drink enough wine, and you'll forget all about it. Which reminds me, I'm having lunch with Dan again on Tuesday.”

“I think that's a dumb thing to do,” India said bluntly, putting a box of tomatoes into her basket. “What's that going to do for you?”

“Amuse me. Why not? We're not hurting anyone. Rosalie is in love with Harold, and Jeff will never know, and he'll have my undivided attention for six weeks in Europe.” To Gail it seemed like perfect justification, but to India it didn't.

“It seems so pointless. And what if you fall in love with him?” That was a whole other issue. If what Gail wanted was to be madly in love again, one of these days it might happen. And then what would she do? Dump Jeff? Get divorced? To India, the risks just didn't seem worth it. But on that score anyway, she and Gail were very different.

“I'm not going to fall in love with him. We're just having some fun. Don't be such a spoilsport.”