I Liked My Life(74)

She looks annoyed. Meeting me wasn’t on Marie’s bucket list. “Okay, that’s fine. You travel safe now.” The door shuts.

So that’s how the divorcées feel when I slam the door in their face. I stand there like a complete dipshit. The case is closed, only it’s not. The disappointing fact is that my mother showered two random kids with attention instead of me, my wife jumped off a building to avoid our happily-ever-after, and my daughter enrolled herself in boarding school to get out of one more year in my company. I’m a finance guy. Three women opting out of spending time with the same man is statistically relevant. It’s a trend. Trends are the result of a catalyst, and the only common denominator here is me.

I don’t want to be bitter, but that’s the taste in my mouth as I board the plane. By the time I land in Boston, I’m mentally drained and dreading dinner with Rory and Eve. I conjure up a few excuses to bail on the drive back, but the effort proves unnecessary. I return to an empty house and a note on the counter.

Hi Dad,

We went to Exeter to see the campus this afternoon. We may be back a little bit after you. I hope your big business trip was a success ?

Love, Bean

I have spent a lifetime misreading women.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Madeline

I’m mortified by my first reaction to this Paris trip. It was very Christie Anderson. Their lives are not about me anymore and I need to get over it.

Brady had his new assistant fill every minute of the itinerary, sparing no expense. I thought Darlene would be irritated to work on something so personal, but she can’t wait to have him out of the office for a week. I think she’d have bought the tickets herself. They’re having lunch at Le Jules Verne, taking a boat cruise down the Seine, spending a day at the vineyards of Champagne, and attending a private Louvre exhibition. To account for Eve’s time while he trains for the marathon, Brady booked her an afternoon at the hotel spa and an appointment with a personal shopper at Galeries Lafayette. He bought first-class tickets, a first for Eve and a stab at me. I considered first class an excessive perk for a child, so when Eve was with us we took over a row in coach: me in the middle, Brady on the aisle, Eve at the window. Apparently, it was my battle alone; Brady didn’t hesitate to take the upgrade.

If all three of us were going we’d have gotten one room with two queens, but Brady found the idea of sharing a room with his daughter in Paris depressing, so he booked them each their own. It’s ironic; they’re down one person but somehow more than doubling the cost.

The prospect of spending eight days alone with Eve has Brady tense. He spends half an hour looking for our vacation luggage, only to spend another half hour staring at his closet trying to determine what to bring. Brady never packed for anything that wasn’t work-related. Since getting him to agree to vacation at all was such an effort, I took on any burden associated with the actual trip. I don’t even think he registered that someone packed his luggage until this very moment. Now, flabbergasted, he says aloud, “Another hidden talent, huh, Maddy?”

The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” Eve calls.

“Happy leave-for-Paris day,” Paige says when the door opens.

“Thanks.” Her excitement is tangled with apprehension around how she and Brady will get along, and a deep sadness that I won’t be there for the adventure.

“Sooo … I couldn’t refrain … after you said you loved Wicked I had to pick up some vacation books for you.” She hands Eve a bag from Wellesley Books that leaves me nostalgic for the afternoons I wasted an hour perusing their rows and rows of shelves for the perfect next read.

“Sweet.”

Eve has been devouring our bookshelf. She’ll stay up until one in the morning reading, then curse herself for it the next day, the same way I used to.

“In the interest of full disclosure, I’m hoping you’ll become my book buddy. I can’t go back to book club. Not without—” Paige shakes off the urge to cry.

“I’d love to,” Eve cuts in, looking at the clock on her cell. She has to finish packing.

“Great,” Paige says. “And one last thing.” Eve sighs, bracing for a be careful speech, but that’s not the mission I sent Paige on. “Try to surprise yourself on the trip. Step outside your comfort zone.”

Eve grins. “What are we talking about here—shoplifting? Skydiving? A nose ring?”

Paige raised five kids and knows how to handle wisecracks. “Yes, all those things for sure,” she says, “but also, be kind to yourself. Make the trip about you. If an hour passes where you don’t think of Her, that’s okay.” Eve steps back, physically distancing herself from the thought. “Really, honey. It can’t be all mourning, all day, every day. Living doesn’t mean you’re over it or selfish or cold; it just means you’re still here, and she’s not.”

The words pierce Eve’s most private thoughts. “I’ll try,” she whispers.

Back in her room, she mulls over Paige’s words. The end depends upon the beginning, I remind her. The hourglass counting down my time is low on sand. I need Eve to feel empowered to move forward.

She checks the weather in Paris and picks a nail polish and lipstick to go with each outfit. Once the suitcase is stuffed enough to be at risk of bursting open, she decides to call Lindsey and tell her about the trip. It’s the first outbound call she’s made to a friend in months. When Lindsey doesn’t answer, she settles for Kara. All she’s looking for is a sliver of normalcy, a quick chat with a friend to prove she still knows how to communicate. Unfortunately, Christie answers Kara’s cell.