They hadn't heard a word from Charlie since Thanksgiving dinner, and they hoped he'd taken their advice, but they didn't know if he would. There were four inches of snow on the ground on Sunday morning, and that night Sylvia cooked dinner, while Gray read a book in the living room. They were chatting easily about nothing in particular over dinner when Gray asked her when her kids were coming home. He hadn't thought about it till then, and when he asked her, he looked worried. She knew he'd been anxious about meeting them, and afraid they might disapprove of their romance.
“A few days before Christmas, I think. Gilbert said the twenty-third, but Emily is always a little vague. She'll catch a plane at the last minute, and blow in here like a hurricane. She always does.”
“That's what I'm afraid of,” Gray said, looking anxious. “Sylvia, I just don't know if that's a good idea.”
“What, my children coming home for Christmas? Are you kidding?” She looked stunned. They were, and always had been, the light of her life. There was no way she was going to tell them not to come home, even for him. “What are you saying?”
“I'm saying,” he said, taking a deep breath, “that I don't know if I'm up to meeting them. I think I should stay at my studio while they're here.” She had a tiny studio apartment downstairs that they used when they were home. The rest of the time she used it for storage, so there was no reason why Gray couldn't continue to stay with her, and she had already explained that to him weeks before.
“Sweetheart, they're going to love you,” Sylvia said easily, trying to dispel his fears.
“I don't do well with kids.”
“They're not kids, they're adults.”
“That's what you think. Kids are kids, I don't care if they're eighty years old. If someone's hundred-year-old mother has a boyfriend, their eighty-year-old kid is going to be pissed. It's the law of nature.” He sounded convinced.
“Bullshit, they never gave Gordon any problems, and they were younger then.” Gordon was her lover who had died. “Trust me, they're great kids, you're going to love them.”
“Maybe not,” he said sadly, and she looked up at him, worried.
“What are you saying?” She sensed that there was more to it than what appeared. She knew he was anxious about children, but not to this degree.
“I'm saying that that level of involvement makes me nervous. As long as we're just dealing with each other, I'm fine. But once you start dragging kids into it, I freak out.”
“Gray, for God's sake, that's insane. They'll only be here for a few weeks.” She was taking them skiing the day after Christmas, and she wanted Gray to come. They already knew there was a man in her life, and both seemed fine with it. They knew how lonely she had been since Gordon died.
“Maybe I should just stay out of the picture till they're gone,” he said firmly, growing more resolute by the minute, and Sylvia looked hurt, angry, and shocked.
“Let me get this straight here,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don't want to meet my children, and you don't want to see me till they leave. Is that it? Did I get that right?”
“Yes, you did. You can come over to see me at the studio whenever you want.”
“Fuck that,” she said, as she strode nervously across the room and began to pace. “I'm not going to be in a relationship with a man who won't even meet my kids. They're wonderful children, and I love them. And I also love you. They're part of me, Gray. You don't even know who I am until you know them too.”
“Yes, I do. And I love you too,” he said, looking more than a little panicked. He hadn't expected her reaction to be so extreme. “But I'm not going to be forced into a situation I know I can't handle. I can't deal with that level of commitment. I just can't. I know myself. I've never wanted kids of my own, and I don't want anyone else's either.”
“Then you should be going out with a woman who has no kids.”
“Maybe so,” he said, staring at his feet.
“Just when did you decide all this?” She was horrified by everything he'd said. She had never expected him to be as unreasonable as this.
“As soon as you told me they were coming back here for Christmas. I just figured I'd bow out gracefully for a few weeks.”
“And what about next summer? You don't come to Europe with me either?” She liked having time alone with them, but his reasons for it struck her as ridiculous, and even mean. He wasn't willing to make any effort whatsoever to meet her kids, or be part of her life, an important part of her life, in her eyes. “I wanted you to come skiing with us,” she said, looking disappointed. She had rented a beautiful house for them in Vermont.
“I don't ski.” He remained unconvinced.
“Neither do I. But they do. And we always have a nice time together.”
“You will this year too. I just won't be there.”
“You're a shit!” she said, stormed into the bedroom, and slammed the door. And when she came out two hours later, he had gone back to his studio, to spend the night there for the first time in three months. It was a terrible situation, and when she called him, he said he was working and didn't want to talk.
“Fuck,” she said to herself, and paced some more. She had no idea how to win him over. She knew how bad his childhood had been, and how insane his family was. He had told her early on that family life was not for him. She just hadn't expected him to take it to these extremes. He didn't even want to see them. He only wanted her. She knew that if he remained firm on it, it would impact their relationship sooner rather than later. She wasn't sure whether to just let him be, and see if he'd relent on his own, or draw a line in the sand, and give him an ultimatum. Either way, she could lose him.
The Three Musketeers, as Sylvia now called them, met for dinner in a Chinese restaurant two weeks before Christmas. All of them were stressed and busy. Charlie said he had a million things to do for the foundation before he left on the boat. Adam's clients were all going nuts, and he was going to Vegas for the title fight of one of his clients that weekend. And Gray just looked depressed.
“So how are the lovebirds?” Charlie teased him as they started dinner. Gray just shook his head. “What does that mean?”
“It means Sylvia and I are barely speaking to each other. It's been a tough couple of weeks since Thanksgiving.”
“What happened?” Charlie looked stunned. “You two looked fine when I was there.” They looked better than fine. They were terrific.
“I don't do kids.”
“I know that.” Charlie smiled. “That's Adam's department. Twenty-two-year-olds. Sylvia is adorable, but she's no kid.”
“No, but she has kids. And I don't want to meet them. They're coming in for Christmas, and I just can't go there. I can't. It makes me nuts. Every time I get around families, it makes me nervous. I feel psychotic. I get depressed. I don't want to meet her kids. I love her, not her children.”
“Oh, shit. And what's she saying about that?” Charlie looked worried.
“Not much. She's pissed. I guess she's hurt. She isn't saying it, but I get the feeling that if I don't back down, it's going to be over with us, and I'm not backing down. I have to respect myself. I have limitations. I have issues. I grew up in the Addams Family on LSD. My sister is a Buddhist nun. My brother is a Navajo I haven't seen in a million years, and don't want to. And both my parents were head cases. I am allergic to families.”
“Even hers?” Charlie tested the waters.
“Even hers,” Gray confirmed. “They're going to Vermont after Christmas,” he said as though they were going by rocket ship to another planet. “To ski.” He made the electric chair sound more appealing.
“You might have fun.”
“No, I won't. They're probably not as nice as she thinks. Even if they are, I have my own problems. I don't want to be involved with her family, only with her.” But he also knew that if he stuck to that, he might blow the deal. Gray felt he had no choice, and Charlie felt sorry for them both. He knew how much it must mean to her. She was so proud of her kids. And also in love with Gray.