The Matchmaker's Gift(53)

Sara didn’t want to think about that. She bounced her tiny niece up and down on her knee. “I’m sorry you’re upset, Mama. I truly am. But Nathan Weisman is not my bashert. He and I were never meant to be.”





FOURTEEN

ABBY




1994




Will called Abby at work the next morning. “I have a meeting with Nicole tomorrow!” he said. “Can you believe it? I asked one of the senior partners to join us for the meeting—you should have seen his face when I told him about étoile. He’s taking me to lunch this afternoon.”

“That’s great,” Abby said. “Congratulations!”

“She never would have called me if you hadn’t brought me to the show.”

“It was nothing, I had an extra ticket, that’s all.”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was amazing! If you hadn’t talked me up to Nicole like that … I mean, without you, I never would have gotten this chance. Alan—he’s the partner who’s helping me—said business generation is all about synergy. He said I have to keep making connections with people, keep trying to figure out how each person I know might work best with the others. Sorry, I’m rambling … I don’t need to tell you, you already get it. Look at the way you introduced me to everyone last night. I mean—connecting people is like your superpower.”

Abby felt a knot in the center of her stomach. “My superpower, huh? Well … thanks.”

Her morning only got more uncomfortable from there. When her phone rang again, an hour later, it was Evelyn Morgan.

“Why is it that Michael has asked me three times whether you and I have spoken yet?”

“Good morning, Ms. Morgan. Um … I’m not…”

“Abby, please, spit it out. It’s obvious that Michael wants you to talk to me about something. He’s never been good at keeping secrets. I’m not angry about it, but I need to know.”

“Mr. Gilbert called me on Monday night,” Abby admitted. “I tried to tell him it wasn’t appropriate for us to speak, but since he doesn’t have a lawyer…”

“What did he say?”

Abby knew it was no use trying to lie to Evelyn. “He told me you may be going blind—that you think you’re going blind, at least. And he asked me to speak to you about reconsidering the divorce. He thinks it’s a mistake. He wants to take care of you.”

Evelyn released an exhausted sigh. “I know he does. He’s a wonderful man. But I can’t put him through that, not after everything I’ve witnessed.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father had retinitis pigmentosa. Do you know what that is?”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“It’s a genetic condition that causes blindness. My father was a brilliant man, but his vision problems prevented him from fully enjoying his life. By the time he was sixty-five, he was almost completely blind. Despite his health, he agreed to work with me on building my first hotel. He introduced me to all his contacts and helped me line up the investors. But once the Morgan was built, my father gave up. He stopped seeing his friends, and he became deeply depressed. Caring for him became my mother’s whole world. Michael reminds me so much of my mother—he has the same sweetness, the same sense of loyalty. He’s just as devoted to my happiness as my mother always was to my father’s. She had been a very social, vivacious woman, but when my father lost his vision, she stopped living, too. There were no more dinner parties, no more bridge games, no more matinees or trips to the Met. She had no more time for any of the things that used to bring her so much joy. If he couldn’t experience it with her, she no longer wanted any part of the outside world. I would never forgive myself if I did that to Michael.”

“But don’t you think you should see a doctor? What if you have a different diagnosis?”

“The odds seem unlikely, don’t you think?”

“Not necessarily, and your father died twenty years ago. Who knows what new treatments might be available now? There’s probably been a ton of research.”

“Perhaps. But then I’d have to go through all the appointments and tests. My parents cycled through false optimism and then disappointment, over and over. I don’t want to go through that roller-coaster ride, and I don’t want to put Michael through it either. My mother would get so excited for every new appointment—she was always sure the next doctor would have all the answers. I won’t build up Michael’s hopes that way, only to break his heart all over again.”

“Ms. Morgan, I don’t mean to overstep, but … when I visited your hotel last week, I saw the way your husband looked at you. The way you looked at him. It’s obvious that the two of you still love each other. I don’t think you should throw that away without being absolutely sure.”

Abby took the silence on the other end of the line as an encouraging sign. Evelyn must have been mulling it over. After a minute or so, her voice returned. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll see a doctor. But I don’t want Michael to know.”

Abby took a swig from the cold cup of coffee on her desk. “Actually,” she said. “I know a wonderful ophthalmologist—she’s very thorough and very discreet. And if it turns out that you need further tests, I’m sure she can give you the names of some specialists.”