“It would have been more so,” Hilary said quietly, “if we could have seen each other twenty-five years ago. My life wasn't so pleasant then.”
“What was it like?” Megan finally asked what they both wanted to know, and little by little, over the next two hours, with tears streaming down her face, she told them. All of it. The uglier and the ugliest, and the tragic and the brutal. But it helped to share it with them, and whereas she had once been the one who protected them, they comforted her now, and Alexandra held her hand, as Megan told her story, of sit-ins in Mississippi, and the time her father had been shot on a rainy night in east Georgia, of what decent people they were, and how totally they believed in their causes, and how much she loved them. And then Alexandra told them about Margaret, and Pierre before he died, and her life with Henri, and how she was afraid that now he would divorce her.
“He'd be a damn fool if he did.” Hilary spoke up, as she flung her long black hair over her shoulder, in a gesture that struck a chord of memory for Alexandra as she watched her.
“He is so obsessed with his lineage, and you have to admit, ours is a bit exotic for someone like my husband.” The three of them laughed and the sun came up as they talked. They went to bed amid yawns and kisses and hugs and promises to meet again in the morning. They all slept until noon, and Alexandra was the first one to get up. She called her mother and the children at the hotel, but they were out, and she left a message that all was well and she would be home on Sunday night. And then she thought about calling Henri, but she didn't know what to say, so she went back upstairs and showered and dressed, and when she came back downstairs again, Megan was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a white blouse with a ribbon in her hair. And she looked more like a little girl than a doctor, and Alexandra said so. The two of them chatted over coffee and hot biscuits, and one of Arthur's nurses informed them that he had had a difficult night, so Megan went upstairs to check on him, just as Hilary came downstairs in shorts and a silk shirt, her black hair pulled severely into a bun, and her feet bare as she came to breakfast. She looked somehow much younger than she had the night before, and Alexandra realized that they all did. They were traveling back in time, and burdens that had aged them were falling from their shoulders. In her case it was the fear of what Henri would do to her, and that no one would love her anymore if he divorced her. If he did, she still had Margaret, and the girls, and now she had these two women to support her. It didn't seem so terrifying anymore. In fact, she felt good, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel frightened.
“Late night, last night, wasn't it?” Hilary smiled lazily over her coffee. “What'll we do today? We could talk ourselves to death by tomorrow night, if we don't watch out.” She and Alexandra both laughed, and Alexandra looked at her thoughtfully. “You're going back tomorrow night too?” The message she had left at the hotel said she would. She didn't want to abandon her mother and the girls for too long. She had promised to spend a week with them in New York, and she knew her daughters would wear her mother out eventually.
“I have to,” Hilary answered. “I have some important meetings scheduled for Monday morning.” So what else was new? When didn't she? She grinned. “When are you going back?”
“To New York, tomorrow night. I left my mother at the Pierre with Axelle and Marie-Louise. I think by tomorrow night she'll have reached her breaking point, even though she's very good with them. But they're a handful.” Alexandra paused, thinking of Margaret and how worried she had been about this meeting. “I also feel like I should get back to reassure her. I think she was afraid I would stop loving her when I met my sisters, as though she wouldn't really be my family anymore. I owe her a little reassurance.”
Hilary nodded and smiled. “I could drive you in, if you like. We could go out to dinner this week … or lunch …” She looked at her hopefully, like a shy child with a new best friend, and Alexandra's eyes lit up in answer.
“I would love it. And you could meet the girls! We're going to be here for a week. And then,” she said triumphantly, Henri de Morigny be damned, “you could come to visit us in Paris!”
“That's a great idea!” Hilary laughed, as Megan joined them.
“What are you two cooking up today?” She was smiling but her eyes were serious.
“Just a little mischief in New York,” Hilary smiled at her. She still thought of her as “the baby.” “Care to join us? You could stay at my place with me.”
“Or at the Pierre with us,” Alexandra offered, but Megan had already made another decision.
“I'd love to, and I'll come and visit both of you as soon as I can. But I'm going to stay here for a few days. He seems much worse today,” her eyes indicated Arthur upstairs. “I'd like to be here if anything happens.” And it was obvious that it was going to very soon. It was the only thing she could do for him now, her first and last gift to him as his daughter, to be with him when he died. She tried to explain her feelings about it later to Alexandra, as they strolled in the garden. “He seems so pathetic … and so frail … as though he's already gone. I know Hilary hates his guts, but I have no ax to grind with him. I had a good life. I love the only parents I've known … he's kind of like a late gift in life. Someone who might have meant something to me once, but it's too late now. It's too late to do anything but say good-bye and help him go. And if I can help him do that, it would make me happy.”
“Then that's what you should do, Megan.” Alexandra smiled at her. In an odd way, she reminded her of her daughters.
They had a quiet dinner that night. The housekeeper was extremely discreet and left them alone most of the time, and eventually they began talking about John Chapman.
“I thought he was going to attack me when he forced his way into my office.” Hilary laughed, and Alexandra smiled, and blushed as she often did.
“The first time I saw him I thought he was very handsome.”
“So did I,” Megan confessed, and the three women laughed like three young girls and speculated about his wife.
“I think he said he was divorced.” Alexandra frowned, trying to remember, but Hilary shrugged. She hadn't opened her heart to anyone in years, and it was enough to have done so to two sisters. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours. But it was like coming home, to the warm, comfortable country house, their ship finally safe in the harbor.
Chapter 31
The next day, they sat on the porch and talked for a long time. They promised to visit, and to write, and all three of them cried as Hilary and Alexandra got in the car, and drove away, waving to Megan until they could no longer see her. She had promised to stop and have dinner with both of them in New York that week, before she flew back to Kentucky. And Alexandra had tiptoed into Arthur's room to say good-bye to him, but Megan had just given him a shot and he was sleeping. He had opened one eye, and smiled at her, as though seeing someone else, and then drifted off again, as Hilary stood and watched from the doorway. She had nothing more to say to him, and she looked at him for a long moment, before she turned and walked downstairs, and got in the car to leave with Alexandra.
“Do you think he will die soon?” Alexandra asked, as they drove back to New York. She was sorry for him. He was so alone and so lonely, and she was glad Megan had decided to stay with him.
“Probably. He's done what he wanted to do.” Her voice held no tenderness for him, but at least it no longer held anger.