Second Chance (12 page)

All was well in their little world. Their first night had gone well. Fiona was enormously relieved as she left for work. And John sent her roses that afternoon. Adrian raised an eyebrow when he saw them on her desk.

“The dog didn't drive him insane?”

“Apparently not. We slept like triplets in the womb. And I made him breakfast this morning,” she said proudly.

“When was the last time you did that?”

“On Mother's Day when I was twelve.” Adrian knew she hated doing anything other than dressing and leaving for work in the morning.

“Sweet Jesus,” Adrian said, rolling his eyes toward heaven, looking like a boy at a revival meeting, “it must be love!”

Chapter 8

John proved to be
as remarkable as Fiona hoped he would be. He was even understanding about it when she told him she had to stay in town and work her first weekend home. She had the Testino shoot to oversee, and she absolutely had to be there. John said he had plenty of work to do, and he even dropped by the shoot to see how it was going. He found it fascinating, and he cooked dinner for her when she got home. It was well over a hundred degrees, and she had been standing on the sidewalk in the blazing heat all day. And after they took a bath together, he gave her a massage.

“How did I ever get this lucky?” she said with a happy groan as he kneaded her aching back.

“We're both lucky,” he said happily. He was so pleased to be living with her, and to have companionship again. He enjoyed the slightly zany aspects of her life. It was all new to him. “I took Sir Winston for a walk tonight, after it cooled off,” he said quietly. “We had a long talk. He said he forgives me for the intrusion. Apparently, the only thing that bothers him is that he's afraid I'm going to take over his closet.” He was razzing her, and she moaned. She hadn't had a minute to do anything about it all week. John had pointed out to her that his suits were crushed, and he had to press a shirt himself one morning before work. His clothes were being devoured by hers.

“I'm sorry. I totally forgot. I swear, I'll take more stuff out of my closet tomorrow.” But the racks in the guest room were already full. She was going to have to dump her things on the bed. It was a small price to pay. And the following day, true to her word, she did. She took out all her leather skirts and pants, and laid them gingerly on the guest room bed. It at least gave him room for some more suits and shirts. He seemed to have a lot. She was just glad it wasn't winter. There would have been absolutely no room at all for his coats.

The following weekend they went out to the Hamptons, and much to her delight, for the entire month of August, he chartered a boat. It wasn't as big as the one they'd had in St. Tropez, but it was a beautiful sailboat nonetheless, and they had a great time with it. Adrian even sailed on it with them one weekend. And between the boat, their work, and meeting a few of each other's friends, the summer seemed to speed by, and was a great success. Sir Winston got used to John. Jamal said he was a true gentleman, and by the end of August, Fiona had conceded nearly half a closet. By then they were working on the December issue, and the entire office seemed to be nuts. It was that time of year. Christmas in August for her.

And as planned months before, John left to meet his daughters in San Francisco for the Labor Day weekend. Hilary had finished her internship by then, and Courtenay had successfully completed her job at camp. John had told Fiona that he was going to tell the girls about her over the weekend. Their mother had been gone for more than two years, and John had no doubt that the girls would be happy for him. Both Mrs. Westerman and his dog were due home over the weekend. The summer was over. The dog had actually been Ann's. Fiona had fantasies about the two dogs meeting, and falling instantly in love. And she was both nervous and excited about meeting the girls. She had volunteered to pick them all up at the airport on Monday night. John thought it a terrific plan.

He wanted the four of them to have dinner that week, so Fiona could get to know the girls before they went back to college. They were going to be in town for only a few days. And after that he and Fiona had to figure out what they were going to do about their living arrangements. She didn't really have room for him, although he was happy staying with her, but her closets were a nightmare, and she couldn't seem to find space for him. But he also felt a little odd bringing her into the apartment where he had lived with Ann.

And he wasn't sure how the girls would feel about it either. It still seemed a little delicate to him. And Fiona said it made her feel odd as well. They hadn't figured that out yet, and they had talked about the possibility of commuting between their two homes, although it created a problem for Fiona with her dog. She didn't want to uproot him, nor leave him alone all night at her house. Sooner or later she knew they would figure it out.

The main thing was that they were happy and got along, better than she ever had with anyone. Adrian was thrilled for them. And in the end, Fiona decided to spend the Labor Day weekend in town, instead of going to Martha's Vineyard, as she did every year. They had been away every weekend, and with John in California for the weekend, she had some things she wanted to fix and put away at her house. She had been relentlessly busy all month, and it was going to be nice to just stay home and chill out. She and Adrian went to a movie one night. And the next night she took her old mentor to dinner. It was nice to have some free time on her hands. She had less of it now that she was unofficially living with John. They were together all the time, and kept to themselves like two lovebirds. Even Adrian complained he never saw her anymore. But it was to be expected now that she was living with a man. How times had changed.

Her first indication that things were not going entirely according to plan in San Francisco was when John called, sounding somewhat nervous, and told her that she didn't need to pick them up at the airport. They would just take a cab home, and he would see her the next day.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, with a rock in her stomach. Her instinct told her that it was.

“Not at all,” he said calmly. “The girls just want a little more time with their dad, and they'll be tired after the flight. They both want to meet you when they're fresh.” Fresh? It seemed an odd choice of words, they weren't flying in from Tokyo after all, but Fiona didn't argue with him. She mentioned it to Adrian when she saw him for brunch the next day. They sat in her garden going over layouts, and she mentioned the conversation to him.

“They probably didn't expect him to find a serious partner so soon. Neither did I.” Adrian smiled at her.

“Soon?
I haven't had a date in two years,” Fiona exclaimed with feeling.

“I know. I know. I think we all just expect our friends to hang around forever, with nothing else to do. It's always a shock when they find someone and disappear.”

“I haven't disappeared,” she reassured him, and gave him a hug.

“I know that. But his kids may not be as mature as I am. Besides, you're a woman, so they might see you as a threat. And it confirms to them that their mother's gone for good. People have denial about things like that, especially kids.”

“How do you know so much?” She could see his point.

“I don't. I'm just guessing. See what he says when he comes back.”

But when she met John on Tuesday morning for breakfast, he didn't say much. And he looked strained. She asked him how the trip was and he said, “Great,” but she wasn't convinced. He kissed her, but he didn't even look happy to see her. More than anything, he looked nervous and stressed. He said that he wanted her to come to the apartment for dinner. He was staying there that week, and the girls were going back to college over the weekend. He was driving Courtenay to Princeton on Saturday, and setting her up in the dorm. Hilary was moving into a house with friends.

“And how is Mrs. Westerman?” Fiona asked benignly, and John glanced at her with a look of terror when she asked.

“She's fine,” he said vaguely, and changed the subject, and when Fiona got to the office, she looked scared when she saw her friend.

“Something's wrong,” she said to Adrian. “I think he fell out of love with me over the weekend. He looks crazed.”

“Maybe something happened with his kids. Give him a chance, Fiona. He'll tell you about it when things calm down. Is he moving back in with you after they go back to school?”

“He didn't say.” She was nearly panicked, but trying to stay calm. But she had never seen him as weird as he was that day.

“You'd better start clearing out your closets. You don't want him getting comfortable at home again. Or do you?” Adrian asked pointedly, and she shook her head, looking grief-stricken. She was terrified that she had already lost him, but it couldn't have happened that fast. It didn't make sense to her.

“No, I don't,” she answered. “I want him to come back.”

“Then just relax, and give him space. He'll be okay. He loves you, Fiona. That doesn't change overnight.”

“He fell in love with me overnight, maybe he'll fall out of love with me just as fast.”

“You have to adjust and compromise. You both need time to grow into this. Besides, you two have been living in never-never land all summer. Now his kids are back. You're in real time. You have to adapt to that, at least until the kids leave again. See how it goes.”

“I'm having dinner with them tonight,” Fiona said, sounding terrified. He had never seen her look like that in all the years they had been friends. Fiona was never afraid of anything, and surely not two young girls. She had never even been afraid of men. But that was also because she never cared if she lost them.

Until now, she had always been just as happy to be alone. Until John. Now she cared. And she had more to lose.

“What time are you meeting them?”

“Seven-thirty. At his place. His housekeeper is cooking dinner. I've never been to his apartment. He hasn't gone back all summer, except to pick up clothes, and I never bothered to go with him. But he didn't invite me to either. Now I wish I'd gone. New place. New people. New ball game. Shit, Adrian, I'm scared.”

“Relax. You'll be fine.” He couldn't believe it. The woman who terrified half the magazine industry, if not all of it, was scared witless of a housekeeper and two girls.

“I've never even seen his dog.”

“For chrissake, Fiona, if he can put up with yours, you ought to be able to make friends with a pit bull. Give them all a chance. Take a Valium or something. You'll be fine.”

They never had a chance to talk about it again for the rest of the afternoon. They were insanely busy, had endless meetings, and a thousand unexpected crises and problems cropped up. At least she spoke to John twice between meetings, and he sounded more normal again. She admitted to him that she was nervous about dinner, and he reassured her and told her he loved her. After that, she was less worried. It was just the newness of it all, and she had never had to meet anyone's kids, nor cared so much. She was sitting in a meeting with Adrian and four other editors at the end of the day, when he suddenly looked at her. And this time he looked panicked as he glanced at his watch.

“What time are you supposed to be there?”

“Seven-thirty. Why?” Fiona looked blank, with three pencils stuck in her hair.

“It's ten after eight. Get your ass out of here.”

“Oh, shit!” She looked as panicked as he did, as the other editors watched them, not knowing what it was about. “I wanted to go home and change.”

“Forget it. Wash your face, and put on lipstick in the cab. You look fine. Go! Go!” He shooed her out of the meeting, and she left at a dead run, apologizing vaguely, and called John on her cell phone from a cab. It was eight twenty-five by then. She was nearly an hour late, and she apologized profusely, and said she had lost track of the time in a meeting about a serious crisis that had come up about the December issue. He told her not to worry about it, but he sounded strained and annoyed. And when she got to the apartment, she saw why.

The apartment itself was large and handsomely decorated, but everything about it seemed cold and uptight. And on literally every surface there were framed photographs of his late wife. The living room looked like a shrine to her, and there was an enormous portrait of her on one wall, and on either side of it were portraits of the two girls. They had had them done just before she died. She was a pretty woman, and she had the look of a debutante who had grown up to be head of the Junior League. Even in the photographs it was easy to see that she had none of Fiona's panache and style, nor was she as beautiful. But she had the saintly look of the perfect wife. She was the kind of woman who normally bored Fiona to tears, but she instantly forced those thoughts from her mind, and entered the apartment apologizing profusely, and explaining about the meeting again. She was nearly in tears. John kissed her gently on the cheek and gave her a hug.

“It's okay,” he whispered, “I understand. The girls are just a little upset about their mother.”

“Why?” Fiona looked blank. Her mind wasn't working, she was too upset about being late to understand what he was saying. Why were they upset about their mother? She had been dead for two years.

“Because they think my being with you is a betrayal of her,” John explained hurriedly before they entered the living room. “They feel like I didn't love her, because I want to be with someone else.”

“She's been gone for two years,” Fiona whispered back.

“I know. They need time to adjust.” And she was an hour late. That didn't help. She felt sorry for him suddenly. He looked like he'd had a rough few days. And he had.

As Fiona walked across the living room, she saw two stern-looking young women sitting rigidly on the couch. They looked as though they had been forced there at gunpoint, and they nearly had. She'd seen happier-looking people in hostage situations, and they glared at her without remorse. Neither of them said a word.

Fiona walked over to the older-looking one of the two, who she assumed was Hilary, and stuck out her hand. “Hello, Hilary, I'm Fiona. It's nice to meet you,” she said politely, trying to sound both warm and unthreatening. And the girl glared at her and did not extend her hand.