Impossible (25 page)

By the time they were in Yankee Stadium, Sasha was feeling better. The jet lag seemed to have receded again, he bought her a hot dog and a beer, and told her about both teams and the best players. He was a total fanatic about baseball, which Sasha thought was cute. It was a far cry from the stuffy dinner parties she didn't take him to in Paris. And actually, she liked this better. It was all new to her. She had never been to a baseball game in her life.

While they waited for the game to start, she told him she had seen Tatianna briefly that day, and he said he was looking forward to meeting her. Sasha couldn't help wondering how they'd get along. She hoped they would. It would make a difference in their relationship, she knew, if eventually her kids accepted him. She knew Xavier would, since they were friends, although she had no idea how he'd feel about Liam being involved with his mother. She worried about her daughter. Tatianna was unpredictable as to whom she liked, and whom she didn't. It was never an easy call, and she had stronger and far more critical opinions than her more easygoing brother.

Liam explained everything that happened at the game to her, and the Yankees won, six to nothing. He was ecstatic, and chatted animatedly with her all the way back in the cab. They went to bed right afterward, and again didn't make love, and Sasha slept like a log. He was leaving for Vermont the next morning, to see his kids, and told her he'd be back in four days and would call her from Vermont. She dropped him off at Grand Central Station, and went to the gallery after that. She felt silly, but she missed him as soon as he left. He had promised to be back by the weekend. She was thinking of taking him to the Hamptons, depending on how she felt. It had taken a little adjusting to get used to having him in the bed she had shared with Arthur at the apartment, and Liam had been sensitive about it. She was sure he would be in Southampton too. She just didn't know how she would feel. Their bedroom in Southampton was where she had seen Arthur for the last time. It was a sacred place to her, and she wasn't sure Liam belonged there. Yet. Or maybe ever. She needed to feel her way along on that one, and was in no rush to decide.

She was busier than she expected all week, went to several cocktail parties, had lunch with Alana, who was now happily married and spending every penny she could of her new husband's money, and saw Tatianna for dinner. Other than that, Liam had called her regularly to report on how he was doing with the kids. It had been difficult with his oldest son at first. Tom blamed Liam entirely for the divorce. Beth had finally told him the ugly details of the incident with Becky, and Liam was livid about it when he called Sasha. She told him to calm down and try to work it out with his son. It was better by the end of the week. They had spent a tearful night talking about it, and both father and son felt better in the morning. His twelve-year-old, George, had been happy to see him, but had developed a nervous twitch in the course of the year, and was on medication, which Liam thought he didn't need and wouldn't give him. He had called Beth about it, and she had threatened to pick them up at the cabin if Liam didn't give George his medication, so finally he did. And Charlotte was adorable and easy, thrilled to see her daddy, and the only mishap was that she fell off her bike and sprained her wrist. But other than that, everything had been fine. A typical weekend with kids, particularly kids he hadn't seen in a year. None of it surprised Sasha, although some of it shocked Liam. He had been in denial about the fallout of his absence during the entire time. Seeing them again woke him up.

“It's hard to walk into their lives after a year, and pick up where you left off,” he said to Sasha late one night when he called her. “Everything is changed, they're all different,” he had complained. But they were still his kids, and she had given him all the advice she could whenever he called her. He was grateful for her support, and looked exhausted but happy when he arrived back at her apartment late Friday night. He had just gotten off the train. And he looked delighted to see her. He had his baseball cap on backward, his jeans were torn at the knees, and he hadn't shaved all week. Other than the beard stubble, he looked like a boy coming home from camp.

She ran a bath for him, made him something to eat, handed him a bowl of ice cream, and he lay in bed and looked at her like an angel who had just come down from heaven.

“It was hard, Sash,” he admitted to her, as he ate the ice cream.

“I knew it would be,” she said calmly, happy that he was back.

“I didn't. I guess I told myself it would be like the old days when I saw them. It's not. It's different. They've changed. We felt like strangers at first. They were all really pissed at me.” The only surprising thing was that he hadn't known that. He'd been in denial, and expected time to stand still. But from what he said, after four days together, he had opened the door to healing and a better relationship with them. It had been a wonderful trip, and they were great kids.

“You have to come back and see them more often. It's not fair if you don't.” If she had to, she'd give him a ticket. She knew how important it was, even if he didn't. But she thought he understood it better now that he had seen them. They loved and needed him in their life. He was their father. Even if their new soon-to-be stepfather could provide better for them, they loved and needed Liam, and he had seen that. He had hated leaving them at the end of the four days.

She rubbed his back when she got into bed, and gave him a massage, and afterward he made love to her. It was the first time he had made love to her in that bed. But it was no longer hers and Arthur's. It felt like hers and Liam's now. He fell asleep almost the moment they stopped making love, and he looked like a big beautiful boy in her bed, as she lay beside him, stroked his hair, and kissed him in the moonlight.

Chapter 12

When Liam woke
on Saturday morning after he'd been to Vermont, Sasha suggested to him that they go to Southampton for the weekend. She had been thinking about it all week, and hadn't mentioned it to him, because she wanted to be sure she felt she could do it. But as she made breakfast for him, she thought it was a good idea, and Liam was thrilled. It was a hot sunny day and he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than go to the beach.

They left the apartment in New York shortly after eleven, and by one-thirty they were there. She had been quiet on the ride out. Liam drove, and he looked relaxed as they chatted from time to time, mostly about his kids and the time he'd spent with them in Vermont. He was still slightly concerned about his oldest son, Tom, having discovered that since the last time he'd seen him a year before, he had turned into a very angry young man. He was going to the University of Pennsylvania in the fall, on a scholarship, and with his future stepfather's help with the dorm. Tom had pointed out to Liam several times that his mother's fiancé had done more for him in the last six months than Liam ever had. Liam had explained to Tom that he was a starving artist, and Tom said he didn't give a damn, and called Liam a flake and a lousy father. Tom had also confronted him about his one-night stand with his mother's twin. Liam was still furious that Beth had told him.

“That isn't fair,” Sasha said, frowning. “Your ex-wife shouldn't have told him.” It made Liam look terrible in his children's eyes, and she felt sorry for him, although it had been a stupid thing for him to do. But people made mistakes, and regretted them. It was obvious that Liam did. Sasha felt that his betrayal of their marriage should have remained between him and Beth.

“She didn't hold much back.” Beth had told Tom all about their father's sins, his one adultery, and financial irresponsibility for twenty years.

“How was she when you saw her?” Sasha asked, wondering about her.

“I didn't. She was out when I picked them up. Their grandmother was there, and she didn't say two words to me. Becky was at the house with Beth's new guy when I dropped them off. I hope she doesn't pull the same stunt with him. He's probably a lot smarter than I was.” He sighed then, and looked at her. “He seems like a nice guy. And the kids really like him.” She could tell, listening to him, that Liam felt left out. But at least he had gone to see them and opened up communications with them again, even if it had been hard with Tom at first. Liam had told her the night before that Tom had finally calmed down and warmed up. But he wanted to vent his anger first, and it was obvious that he had. She still thought Beth had been wrong to be so open with them about their father's fatal mistake. No matter what the end result, the incident itself should have remained known only to the adults. In her opinion, children didn't need to know their parents' sins, and she said as much to Liam.

“I think she's still pretty bitter about what I did. She sounds like it. She and Becky have always been jealous of each other.” He hadn't said a word to his ex-sister-in-law when he dropped the children off. Just nodded and drove off. Becky had said nothing.

By then, Sasha and Liam had reached the house in Southampton. It was a big rambling white Victorian that had reminded them of New England when she and Arthur bought it twenty years before. It looked like houses they had seen in Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket, and it had a wide covered porch all around it. She and Arthur had always loved sitting there on warm nights, and sometimes even all bundled up in winter, sipping hot chocolate. She tried to force the memories from her head as she opened the door for Liam. She usually walked in through the kitchen, but this time she decided to go in through the front door, so it would be different.

“It's a beautiful old house, Sasha,” Liam said, as he looked around. They had kept it rustic and simple, but it looked comfortable and inviting. There was nothing pretentious about it. There seemed to be no important art, just pretty things, big inviting leather chairs, and two canvas-covered couches. And then he saw the painting by Andrew Wyeth over the mantel. It was stark and bleak and beautiful, and one of his most famous paintings. It looked just like the beach outside, on a winter day. There were little tufts of snow on the ground, and you could sense a stiff breeze in the air on the canvas. It was without a doubt the work of a great master.

“Wow!” Liam said, as he stood staring at it in awe. He had admired Wyeth all his life. “I'd give my ass to own a Wyeth.” He whistled and then smiled, as she laughed.

“My father gave it to us for a wedding present.” There were a lot of things like that in the house, mementoes, treasures, things the children had made, early American furniture they had bought together on trips through New England early in their marriage, or when Tatianna was in college and they drove up to see her. There was a beautiful old battered refectory table in the dining room that Sasha had bought in France. Everywhere he looked, Liam saw things that he knew instinctively that she treasured. The house had deep meaning for her, and he realized easily that it had meant a lot to her to bring him there. Even more than her New York apartment. Much more. This house was far more personal, and more important to her.

“I think I'd move here if I had a house like this,” Liam said admiringly as he sprawled out on the couch, took off his baseball cap, and looked around.

“We used to spend the summers here when the children were small. They still love it, although neither of them comes out here very often. I think it makes all of us sad. It was Arthur's great love, and at one time mine.”

“And now?” he asked, looking at her tenderly. This was yet another side of her that he was glad to know. She had as many facets as a diamond, and shone as brightly, although he could see that her eyes were sad.

“I've only been out here once since he died. But I didn't stay. I couldn't. This morning I knew I wanted to come here with you.” He was touched and flattered, as he stood up and walked over to put an arm around her. She was letting him into her private world, which he knew was the best gift she could give him. “I should probably change some things and redecorate. Every-thing's looking a little tired,” she said, glancing around. It looked worse than she remembered, as she suddenly saw it through Liam's eyes.

“I like it like this. It makes you want to sit down and stay forever.” She smiled at him. That was how she had always felt about it, and in some ways still did. The only thing missing was Arthur, but Liam was here now.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, as she pulled back the curtains and raised the shades. Sun streamed instantly into the room, and they could see the ocean and the beach from where they stood. She had brought a bag of groceries from the city to make lunch and breakfast for him. She thought it would be fun to take him to one of the local restaurants for dinner.

“I'm okay. I could make something for you.” He carried the bag into the kitchen and set it down. It was a huge old country kitchen, with a giant butcher-block table in the middle of the room, and worn counters. The house looked well used, and much loved, because it was.

He made both of them turkey sandwiches, and opened two cans of soda, which he drank out of the can and Sasha poured into a glass. As soon as they'd finished eating, he suggested they walk on the beach. They hadn't been upstairs to her bedroom yet, and he had a feeling that was going to be hard for her, too. The house was full of memories, and one much-loved ghost, her husband. Liam wanted to tread gently here, and he thought the air would do her good.

They walked down the beach for nearly an hour, holding hands most of the time, in comfortable silence. He stopped to pick up shells from time to time, and at the far end of the beach, they sat down, and then stretched out and looked up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue and the sun was bright. The sand was warm beneath them.

“This is my favorite place of all your houses,” he said as he lay there with an arm around her. “I love it here.”

She could see he did. “I wish my kids could see it one day. They love the beach.” And so did he.

“Maybe they will,” she said quietly, then sat up, and looked down at him with a gentle smile. He always looked so beautiful to her, especially here at the beach, with his blond hair loose and blowing in the breeze. Hers was in a braid, which she often wore at the beach.