“Yes, I would,” she said finally, after an interminable pause. “I like talking to you.” She always had. “We don't have to talk about the past anymore.” She knew enough, she wasn't sure she wanted to know more. There was too much pain there, even now. “Maybe we can be friends. I'd like that.” He nodded, still wanting more, but he didn't want to scare her, and knew he might. She was still fragile after everything that had happened to her, and so much time had passed since their affair. It was probably too late, much as he hated to admit it to himself. He had lost the love of his life. But she had come back now, in a different guise. Perhaps, as she said, it would be enough. They could try.
“I'll come to see you tomorrow,” he promised, standing up, as he looked down at her. She looked frail as she lay beneath the covers. She barely made a ripple in the bed. He bent to kiss her forehead. She smiled peacefully as she closed her eyes and spoke in a dreamy whisper.
“ 'Bye, Matthieu … thank you …” He had never loved her more.
Chapter 14
Stevie showed up at the hospital late that afternoon with a small overnight bag, and asked the nurse to set up a cot in Carole's room. She was planning to spend the night. When she walked in, Carole was just waking up from a long nap. She had slept for hours after Matthieu left, exhausted by the morning she'd had, and then talking to him. It had taken her full concentration to manage both.
“I'm moving in,” Stevie said, setting down her bag. Her eyes still looked watery, and she had a red nose and a cough. But she was taking the antibiotics and said she was no longer contagious. Carole's cold was better too. “So what mischief did you get into today?” Carole told her about the police coming to see her, and Stevie was pleased to see the two CRS guards at her door, although their machine guns looked unpleasant, as they would to any would-be assailants too.
“And Matthieu stayed after they left. He was here when I talked to the police,” Carole added, looking pensive, as Stevie looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“Should I be worried?”
“I don't think so. That was all such a long time ago. I was a kid, younger than you are now. We agreed to be friends, or try to be. I think he means well. He looks like an unhappy man.” He had the same intensity she remembered even in their days of passion, but there was a depth of sadness in his eyes that hadn't been there before, except after his daughter died. “I'll be going home soon anyway. It's kind of nice to put old ghosts to rest, and make friends with them. It takes away their power.”
“I'm not sure anything could take away that guy's power,” Stevie said sensibly. “He comes in here like a tidal wave, and everybody jumps about ten feet when they see him.”
“He was a very important man, and still is. He called the Minister of the Interior about me. That's how we got the guards at the door.”
“I don't mind that. I just don't want him upsetting you,” Stevie said protectively. She didn't want anything hurting Carole, ever again if possible. She'd been through far too much. Her recovery was hard enough. She didn't need to deal with emotional issues too, particularly Matthieu's. He'd had his chance, and blown it, as far as Stevie was concerned.
“He doesn't upset me. The things I remember about him do sometimes, but he's been very nice. He asked my permission to visit me again.” That had impressed her. He hadn't just assumed it, he had asked.
“And did you give it to him?” Stevie asked with interest. She still didn't trust the guy. He had scary eyes. But not to Carole. She knew him better than that, or had once upon a time.
“Yes. I think we can be friends now. It's worth a try. He's a very interesting man.”
“So was Hitler … and Stalin… I don't know why, but I get the feeling this guy would stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“That's how it was before. It's different now. We're different. He's old. It's over.” Carole sounded sure of it, Stevie wasn't.
“Don't bet on that. Old loves die hard.” Theirs certainly had. She had thought about him for years, and loved him for a long time. It had kept her from loving anyone till Sean. But Carole said nothing and only nodded.
Stevie made herself comfortable on the cot they brought in, and later in the evening put on pajamas, and said they were having a slumber party. Carole felt guilty for having her assistant stay with her instead of at the Ritz. But after the boy-with-the-knife incident, Stevie no longer felt comfortable being far from Carole. She had also promised Jason she'd stay close. He had called a dozen times, shaken by the attack. Carole's children had called her too. They had guards with machine guns outside the room now, and Stevie to protect her inside. It touched Carole that Stevie cared that much about her. And they giggled and chatted like two kids late into the night, while the nurse stood outside and talked to the guards.
“This is fun,” Carole said at one point, laughing. “Thank you for staying with me.”
“I was lonely at the hotel too,” Stevie admitted. “I'm really starting to miss Alan.” She had been gone for weeks, even over Thanksgiving. “He's been calling a lot. He's actually beginning to sound like a grown-up, which is pretty goddamn good news since he turned forty last month. He's definitely a late bloomer.” Neither of them had ever been married, and lately he'd been talking about it, and long-term plans for their future. “He invited me to Christmas dinner at his parents'. Up till now, we always spent the holidays separately. Spending them together seemed like too much of a commitment, to both of us. I guess that's progress, but toward what? I like what we've got.” His talking long term made her nervous.
“What would you do if you got married?” Carole asked cautiously, from her bed, with a night-light on nearby. The room was almost dark, which lent itself to confidences and questions they might not have dared ask each other otherwise, although they were always fairly candid with each other. But some topics were taboo, even between them. This was a question Carole had never asked her before, and hesitated even now.
“Kill myself,” Stevie said simply, and then laughed. “About what? I don't know … nothing… I hate change. Our apartment is comfortable. He hates my furniture, I don't care. Maybe I'd repaint the living room, and get another dog.” Stevie couldn't see why anything would change, but it might. Marriage would give Alan a far greater claim on her life, which was why she didn't want to marry him. She liked her life just the way it was.
“I mean about your job.”
“My job? What does marriage have to do with that, unless I marry you? I guess then I'd move in.” They both laughed at that.
“You work a lot of hours, you travel with me. We're gone a lot. And anytime I get blown up in a tunnel, you could get stuck in Paris for a hell of a long time,” Carole explained with a smile.
“Oh that. Shit, I don't know. I never thought about it. I think I'd give up Alan before I'd give up my job. In fact, I know it. If my work with you is an issue to him, he can take a long hike, into oblivion. I'm not giving up this job. Ever. You'd have to kill me first.” It was comforting for Carole to hear it, although sometimes things changed unexpectedly. She worried about that. And she wanted Stevie to have a good life, not just a job.
“How does Alan feel about it? Does he ever complain?”
“Not really. He whines sometimes, if I'm gone a long time, and says he misses me. I figure it's good for him, unless he finds another roommate. But he's very much steady-eddy, and he's pretty busy himself. He actually travels more than I do, although he doesn't go as far.” Most of his trips were in California, while hers with Carole were abroad. “As far as I know, he's never cheated on me. I think he used to be fairly wild when he was younger. I'm the first woman he's ever lived with. It's worked out pretty decently so far. Which is another thing, why fix what ain't broke?”