She didn’t wake up until the plane landed at JFK in New York. She had only brought carry-on, so she was out of the airport in no time and gave the cab driver her address. And then she thought better of it and decided to go to the loft. It was six in the morning and too early to call Jean-Louis, but she knew where the key was and could let herself in and just slip into his bed. She had done that lots of times in the past year when she got back from trips. She was outside his building by six-thirty in the morning. And she took the key from behind the fire extinguisher in the hallway and let herself in and the room was dark. Jean-Louis had installed shutters when he moved in, like the ones in France. He said he slept better that way, and he was right. Whenever Lizzie slept at his place, she sometimes didn’t wake until two in the afternoon, if she was particularly tired or jet-lagged or just back from a trip. The total darkness made her sleep peacefully for hours.

She knew her way around the loft perfectly, and there was a hairline crack of light from the bathroom that helped her find the bed. She dropped her clothes on the floor next to it and slid in next to him and gently put her arms around him, and as she did, there was a sudden scream. She didn’t know who it was, but it was not Jean-Louis. She sat bolt upright in the bed, and so did he, as he turned on the light with a rapid gesture. They looked at each other, and then Lizzie looked into the space in the bed between them, and found herself staring at Françoise, his ex-girlfriend and Damien’s mother. All three of them looked startled, and Lizzie leaped out of bed. The body she had cuddled up to in the dark was Françoise, not Jean-Louis.

“What the hell is this?” Liz said as she stared at him. She was so shocked that she forgot to get dressed, and all three of them were naked. “I thought you were just friends.”

“We have a child together,” Jean-Louis explained, looking very Gallic. Françoise just lay there and looked at the ceiling. She looked perfectly comfortable in his bed and made no effort to move, despite the heated discussion between Liz and Jean-Louis. She acted as though it had nothing to do with her.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Liz shouted at him. “What is she doing here?” Françoise propped herself up on one elbow then and looked at them both, taking in the scene, and Liz shot her an angry look. Françoise didn’t even look embarrassed.

“She had a job here this week, and she dropped by to say hello,” Jean-Louis explained weakly. There was nothing he could say to clean this up.

“This looks like a lot more than hello to me.” Liz narrowed her eyes at him then and reached for her clothes on the floor. “You said you were faithful to me, you asshole.” She got dressed as she said it. Françoise got up and walked past her to the bathroom.

“I am faithful to you,” he insisted to Liz. “I love you. Françoise and I are just good friends.”

“Bullshit. Tell that to someone else. This is cheating. That’s all it is.” And she was sure now that the underwear she had found in the drawer in his Paris apartment was more recent than four years. She wondered how long he’d been sleeping with her, or if he’d ever stopped. Françoise looked totally at ease in the loft and his bed.

“Don’t be such a puritan about this,” Jean-Louis said, unwinding himself from the sheets and coming to stand next to her. “These things happen. It doesn’t mean anything.” He tried to put his arms around Liz, and she wouldn’t let him.

“It does to me.” She felt foolish now for how stupid she’d been and how trusting. Men like Jean-Louis were never faithful to anyone. She realized that he had probably cheated on her for the past year and that his idea of “exclusive” had nothing to do with hers and meant nothing. “I should have known better,” Liz said to him, as Françoise wandered into the living room and lit one of Jean-Louis’s Gitanes. She was completely passive, and the uncomfortable scene didn’t seem to upset her at all, and Lizzie knew she had a boyfriend too. They all screwed anything that moved.

Liz’s fatal stupidity was believing that Jean-Louis was different. Men with that much charm were just never faithful. It wasn’t in their DNA. She knew it but always tried to tell herself that it would be different this time, but it never was. Jean-Louis was just like all the other men she had dated. They were all clones of each other. She always picked the ones who couldn’t be faithful or commit. It fit perfectly with her own fear of commitment and provided an inevitable end. She had been part of scenes like this too often before.

“Don’t you have any morality at all?” she said, looking at him with disgust. “I’m better than this, and smarter. I don’t know why I believed you.” She didn’t love him, she was clear on that, but she had liked him a lot, and trusted him, which had been a huge mistake. Men like him were all she ever met in her world, and all she ever wanted. The fashion scene was full of them. Men who wanted to act like boys forever and never played by the rules. There were no rules, there was just fun. And in the end someone always got hurt. She was tired of it. She had her clothes back on by then and looked at him with contempt.

“You’re a jerk, Jean-Louis, and a poor excuse for a man. And worse than that, you’re a lousy father. You make pathetic excuses for not being there for your son, and for dumping him on someone else. I deserved better than you, but more importantly, so does he. Why don’t you and Françoise wake up and grow up, instead of indulging yourselves all the time?” She looked straight at him and at Françoise on the way out. Jean-Louis said not a word as Liz walked out and slammed the door. She was shocked to realize she wasn’t even sad as she ran down the stairs, she was relieved. She was finished with guys like him. She was grown up. He never would be.

She made a vow to herself as she hailed a cab. She was never going to settle for a guy like him again. She’d rather be alone than waste her time. She rolled down the window and let the cold air fly in her face as they drove across town. She felt totally free at last. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t sad. She was ready to move on.


Chapter 15


Liz called Annie later that morning and told her what had happened. She was sorry to hear it, but she had heard stories like it from Liz before. Something always went wrong in her relationships so she could end them. Annie knew that up to now Lizzie chose men like that so she wouldn’t get attached. But Liz sounded different this time. She said she’d rather be alone than get involved with another one like Jean-Louis and she sounded like she meant it. She said she was done with men who behaved that way and were immature, self-indulgent, and dishonest. And Annie hoped that this time it was true.

She wondered if next time she would take the risk of someone real. It was clear from her lack of emotion that she hadn’t loved Jean-Louis.

Liz was in her own apartment wrapped in a pink bathrobe when she called Annie. She had showered when she got home. And Jean-Louis hadn’t called her. She knew he wouldn’t. And she was shocked to realize she didn’t care. She was done.

She and Liz talked for about an hour, and then Annie got up and went to make herself a cup of tea. Katie was still asleep. Annie invited Liz for dinner that night, and Liz had said that she’d come. She liked Sunday-night dinners at Annie’s, and they did them too rarely.

Tom called her late that afternoon, when he got back from a football game. He was excited that the Jets had won.

“Are we still on for dinner tonight?” he asked easily. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be. I want you to meet the kids.”

“That sounds like fun. You’re a fascinating bunch.”

“Wait till you meet us all before you decide that. We’re actually fairly normal.”

“Somehow I doubt that. You seem pretty special to me.”

“If that’s a compliment, thank you.” He seemed special to her too. He was interesting and intelligent, he seemed to be open minded, and he wasn’t dull. He’d had an exciting life and career. He wasn’t full of himself, and he asked all the right questions. For now they were just friends, but he was the first man she’d met in years who seemed worthwhile to her, and she liked his looks. He felt the same way about her. She was a rare bird amid flocks of very dull women he had met since his divorce. And unlike most men his age, he had no interest in twenty-two-year-olds. Annie couldn’t help wondering, when she invited him to dinner, if he would be taken with Lizzie. She was a beautiful girl. Annie was philosophical about life and perfectly willing to let destiny decide her fate. Tom didn’t belong to her, and you couldn’t put an option on people. He was just a man she had met at a hospital by sheer happenstance. Nothing more than that.

She forgot to tell the others about him until just before dinner. It was six o’clock, and she had told Tom to come at seven. She had made spaghetti and meatballs and a big green salad. And they were going to have cookies and ice cream for dessert, just the way they had on Sunday nights when they were kids.

Liz was sitting on the couch, talking to Katie, trying to convince her to quit the tattoo parlor and go back to school, and Paul was reading a magazine while the two women talked. Lizzie was saying the same things to Kate that he had said to Kate himself, to no avail. He thought she should go back to school. And all heads turned, including Paul’s, when Annie announced casually that there was a man coming to dinner.

“What man?” Liz asked with a look of astonishment.

“Just someone I met recently.” Annie looked benign and unaffected as she said it and sat down in the living room with them. Ted hadn’t arrived yet. Nor had Tom.

“You mean like a blind date?” Liz persisted.

“No. He broke his arm when I sprained my ankle. We spent four hours in the waiting room at the ER. It’s not a big deal. We’ve had lunch a couple of times.” Annie looked like she was telling them she had decided to make hamburgers instead of meatballs, as though it were of no consequence whatsoever, and she didn’t think it was. She had been telling herself that since they met.

“Wait a minute.” Liz looked at her as if a comet had just landed in their living room. “You had lunch with this guy twice, and spent four hours in the ER with him, and you didn’t tell us?”

“Why should I tell you, for heaven’s sake? It’s not like we’re dating. He invited me out to dinner, but I invited him here instead. I wanted him to meet all of you.”

“Annie”—Liz stared at her from where she sat—“you haven’t had a date since the Stone Age, and you act like this means nothing.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. We’re just friends,” she said casually.

“Who is he?” Kate asked, as surprised as her sister was by Annie’s announcement.

“He works in TV. He’s divorced, has no kids, and seems like a nice person. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Katie and Liz both insisted, and Paul was interested now too. They were discussing it heatedly when Ted walked in. He had told Pattie he had to go home for dinner and had left even when she had a fit. He wasn’t going to let her keep him from his aunt and sisters. Although he knew he would pay for it later, dinner with them was worth it, and he was trying to take Annie’s advice and take a little more space from Pattie. And she didn’t like it at all.

“What are you all so excited about?” Ted asked as he dropped his coat on the chair in the hall and walked in. He couldn’t get the gist of the conversation, but they all sounded animated about something.

“Annie invited a man to dinner tonight. She’s had lunch with him twice, and they met when she sprained her ankle.” Liz summed it up for him, and he grinned.

“That’s interesting.” Ted and Paul exchanged a look. This sounded like girl talk to them. “Are you serious about him?” he asked Annie, and she shook her head.

“I hardly know him. I’ve only seen him three times in my life. He’ll probably want to date Liz, although he’s too old for her.” She tried not to look at Ted as she said it. It wasn’t a dig, but it was true. She had told both Liz and Katie about Pattie, and they were worried too. Liz said she sounded like a nutcase. Kate thought it was worth going out with her to get an A in her course. Annie didn’t agree.

“How old is he?” Ted asked her.

“A few years older than I am.” She had heard him give his age in the hospital. “He’s forty-five.”

“I’ll let you know if I approve after I meet him,” Ted said, smiling. But in spite of the questions and teasing, they were all surprised and pleased for her. They couldn’t remember the last time Annie had invited a man home for dinner. Maybe never. But Tom Jefferson seemed more like a friend to her than a date. And before they could discuss it any further, the doorbell rang, and Annie went to let him in. He was wearing jeans and a sweater and cowboy boots, and he looked relaxed and pleasant as she introduced him to everyone. She could see the girls looking him over, as he and Ted talked about the football game he’d been to that afternoon. The Jets had scored three touchdowns in a row in the first quarter, which was a miracle for them. Paul joined in, although he wasn’t as avid about football as Ted. And both girls said to Annie in the kitchen that he was really good looking and looked very familiar to both of them.