Turning Point(43)

“How was London?” she asked him with a smile.

“Terrific. We went to a new singalong version of Annie. My girls knew all the words, and so did I.” He looked mildly embarrassed when he said it, but it had been fun. “What did you do this weekend?” He chatted with her as they walked up the stairs side by side.

    “I saw Marie-Laure, and then we went to her apartment and saw her kids. I was going to see Valérie, but she was swamped.”

“I figured she would be, for a while.” He felt somewhat exposed as he talked to Wendy, now that everyone in the group knew of his ties to Browning Oil. He had played “poor boy” all his life. His vast family fortune had always embarrassed him, and still did. It seemed so excessive. He lived comfortably, but not extravagantly. And as they reached her door, he gave her a warm look. “Do you want to have dinner down the street?” There were no romantic undercurrents between them, which made it easy to be with her. She just seemed like she’d make a good friend. She hesitated for a minute and then nodded. She had nothing better to do that night, except her nails and hair.

“I’d like that, thank you.” She dropped off the milk, eggs, and baguette she’d just bought, while he put his suitcase in his apartment, and they headed back down the stairs a few minutes later. She told him about the Picasso exhibit she had gone to at Le Petit Palais, and that she’d gone to church at La Madeleine, where there was a special mass for the victims of the shooting.

She commented on how subdued the atmosphere in the city was, and how affected people were by the tragedy at the lycée. The funerals for the victims had begun that weekend. Many were at Père Lachaise cemetery, and other cemeteries around the city. It weighed heavily on the Parisians, and had shaken everyone around the world, because in each country people realized how vulnerable they were and how easily it could happen to them. Bill had thought about it with his girls that weekend at the play. He and Athena had exchanged emails earlier in the week, when he inquired about the security measures at their school, and he was satisfied by what she said. Things seemed somewhat tighter in Britain than they were in France, but the British had been dealing with similar issues for years, since the heated days with the IRA.

    Wendy could tell that he was feeling better about the article in the paper earlier that week. All he said about it was that he hoped it wasn’t syndicated to the San Francisco Chronicle, but he didn’t dwell on it as he had when it came out. He asked if she had heard from her boyfriend and she looked startled, but said she hadn’t. She didn’t explain why.

Over a chocolate éclair they shared for dessert at their favorite bistro, he asked her if she wanted to go to Euro Disney the following weekend with his girls. They were planning to go on Saturday.

“I got nervous about that too,” he confessed, “but I think the security is very tight. And the girls can’t wait to go.”

“I’d love it.” She smiled at him. “I don’t get to do things with children very often. It was a relief seeing Marie-Laure’s boys this weekend. They’re really sweet. They’re five, eight, and eleven, which isn’t easy without a father. She seems to manage them really well, although she says it’s hard, and her mother helps.”

“I wish I saw more of mine,” he said wistfully, and she nodded. “We do a lot of different things when they’re with me in San Francisco, and go camping a lot.” They were still chatting easily when they wandered back to the apartment, and he left her at her door. They were halfway through their stay in Paris, which seemed hard to believe. They all felt as though they had been there for months. A lot had happened since they’d arrived. And their agenda was heavily scheduled until the end. On a personal level, romances had started, Gabriel and Stephanie’s passionate affair, and he and Wendy were becoming friends. It had been a very full two weeks!



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    After a lustful weekend with Stephanie, Gabriel decided to go home on Sunday night. His boys were busy but he said he liked to touch base with them on Sunday nights and have dinner at home. And Stephanie was exhausted by then anyway. They’d had a very full weekend, and made love every time they came back to the apartment, and several times a night. She’d never had a sex life like what she and Gabriel shared. He was a very sensual man and couldn’t get enough of her. And he had mentioned on Sunday that when he came to San Francisco, he wanted her to stay at the hotel with him, which brought her up short and was a dose of reality. It made clear his expectations, which weren’t realistic for her.

“Gabriel, I’m not in the same situation you are. I have a husband who expects me to come home and be his wife again.” He didn’t look happy when she said it over breakfast in her tiny kitchen. “My husband has no clue that anything has changed.”

“You told me that things haven’t been working between you, and he suggested a separation.”

“That’s true, he did, when he was angry at me. And things aren’t working. But we haven’t done anything about it, or come to any conclusions. I’m going to have to talk to him when I go back. We’ll have a lot to work out, with two small children.” She knew that Andy would be shocked and devastated. She wasn’t looking forward to it. For now, it was incredibly romantic being in Paris, but when she went home, she’d have to face the music if she and Gabriel were going to take this further, and it was still very new. They both had marriages to unwind if this was more than an affair. She was somewhat afraid to rely on it and have it blow up in her face. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him seriously, and he looked offended that she would even question it.