Honor Thyself (17 page)

“When you moved back to L.A., I kind of waited for the dust to settle, and eventually I came out to see you, allegedly to see the kids, but I came to see you. You had calmed down, and I told you what had happened. I was honest with you, and told you the truth as I saw it. I don't think I had the insight then that I have now, that I was jealous of your career and your stardom. I asked you to give it a shot with me again. I said it was for the kids' sake, but it was for mine. I still loved you. I still do,” he said simply. “I always have.

“I went totally nuts with that Russian girl. But you no longer wanted me when I asked you. I don't blame you. It doesn't get much worse than that. You were polite, gracious, and you very nicely told me to get fucked, in so many words. You said it was over for you, and I had destroyed all the feelings you'd had for me, that you had truly loved me, and you were sorry that your career had upset me so much, and you were gone so often. You said you would have slowed down if I asked you, although I'm not entirely sure that's true, in the early years anyway. You had a good head of steam up, and it would have been hard to let that go, at that point.

“So I went back to New York, and you stayed in L.A. Eventually, we got to be friends. The kids grew up. And we did too. You married Sean about four years after I came out to see you, and I was happy for you. He really was a good guy, and great to our kids. I was sad for you when he died. You deserved a man like that, a really good one, not a shit like I'd been to you. And then he died. I felt awful for you. And now here we are, we're friends. I'll be turning sixty next year. I've been smart enough never to marry again since Natalya. She lives in Hong Kong, and I see the girls twice a year. They treat me like a stranger, which I am. She's still beautiful, after a lot of surgery. Shit, she's only thirty-nine years old. The girls are seventeen and eighteen and very exotic looking. The child support I still pay for them could finance a small nation, but they have a pretty racy lifestyle. They're both modeling now. And Chloe and Anthony have never met them, which is probably just as well.

“So here we are. I'm sort of part brother, part friend, an ex-husband who still loves you, and I think you have a good life on your own. I've never had the feeling you regretted not coming back to me and giving me another chance, particularly once you met Sean. You don't need me, Carole. You have your own money, which I invested pretty well for you a long time ago, and you still ask me for advice now. We love each other in an odd way. I'll always be there for you, if you need me. And I suspect you'd do the same for me. It'll never be more than that now, but I have some incredible memories with you. I'll never forget them. I'm sad for you that you don't have that now, because we had some wonderful times. I hope you'll remember them again one day. I cherish every moment we spent together, and I'll never stop regretting the pain I put you through. I paid in spades for it, which I deserved.”

He had made a full confession to her, and listening to him, Carole was deeply touched. “I hope you forgive me one day. I think you already had. Long ago. There's no bitterness in our friendship now, no sharp edges. It all wore smooth over time, in part because of who you are. You have an enormous heart, you were a good wife to me, and you're a terrific mother to our kids. I'm grateful to you for that.” He fell silent then, and watched her, as she looked at him with deep compassion.

“You've been through a lot,” she said kindly. “Thank you for sharing all that with me. I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to be the wife you needed me to be. We do such stupid things in our youth.” She felt very old after listening to him. The story had taken two hours to tell. She was tired, but she had a lot to think about. Nothing he had said had jarred her memory, but she had the strong impression he had tried to be fair, to both of them. The only one who had been lambasted in the tale was the Russian supermodel, but it sounded as though she deserved it. He had picked himself a major lemon, and he knew it. She was a dangerous young woman. Carole never had been, and had always tried to be loving and honest with him. He had made that clear to her. She had little to reproach herself for except working too hard and being away too often.

“I'm grateful you're still alive, Carole,” he said gently to her before he left, and she could tell he meant it. “It would have broken my heart, and our kids', if that bomb had killed you. I hope you get your memory back. But even if you don't, we all love you.”

“I know,” she said softly. She'd had proof of that from all of them, even him, though they were no longer married. “I love you too,” she said softly. He bent to kiss her cheek and then was gone.

He added something to her life, not just memories and information about the past, but a tender friendship that had a flavor all its own.

Chapter 10

A
fter the Thanksgiving weekend, Jason and Anthony announced that they needed to go back to New York. And Chloe felt she had to get back to her job. Jake had also called her several times. There was nothing anyone could do for Carole, and they all knew she was out of danger. The rest of her recovery process was liable to be slow, and was a matter of time.

The children were coming to Los Angeles for Christmas, and she was expected to be out of the hospital and able to fly home by then, in another month. Carole invited Jason to join them for the holidays, and he accepted gratefully. It was an odd arrangement, but they felt like a family again, in some form. He was taking the kids to St. Bart's over New Year's after all, and invited her to come along, but she couldn't travel after she got back to L.A. The doctors didn't recommend it. She was still too fragile, and it was confusing for her. She wasn't walking yet, and with no memory, everything she did was harder work. She wanted to stay home once she got there. But she didn't want to deprive her children of the trip with their father. They had all been through so much since Carole's accident. She knew the vacation would be good for them.

Jason spent an hour alone with Carole on his last night in Paris, and said he knew it was too soon to talk about it, but he wondered if, once she recovered, she would be open to trying things with him again. She hesitated, still remembering none of their history, and she knew she had feelings of deep affection for him. She was grateful for the time he had just spent in Paris, and could see the good man he was. But she felt nothing more for him, and doubted that she would in time. She didn't want to lead him on, or encourage him to hope for something she couldn't give him. She had to concentrate on getting well now, becoming whole again, and she wanted to spend time with her children. She was in no condition to think about a man. And it sounded like their history was too complicated. They had come to a good place before her accident, and she didn't want to spoil or risk that again.

There were tears in her eyes when she answered him. “I'm not even sure I know why yet, but I have the feeling that we'd both be smarter to leave things as they are. I don't know much about my life yet, but I know I love you. And I'm sure it was devastating when we broke up. But something has kept us apart since then, even if I don't remember what. I married someone else, and everyone tells me I was happy with him. You must have had other people in your life too, I'm sure we both did. And I can feel the strength we share, and the power of loving you and being loved by you as a friend. We have our children to bind us together forever. I wouldn't want to mess any of that up, or hurt you.

“I must have fallen short somehow, or disappointed you, for you to go off with someone else. I treasure the love we have now, as parents of the same children and as friends. I don't want to lose that for anything in the world, or do anything to jeopardize it. Something tells me that trying to revive our marriage would be very high-risk, and maybe disastrous for both of us. If it's okay with you”—she smiled tenderly at him—“I'd like to keep things like this. It seems like we have a winning formula now, without adding anything to it. If I manage not to get blown to bits again, I'll be here for you forever. I hope that's enough for you, Jason. To me, what we have seems like an incredible gift. I don't want to screw that up.” She just didn't have romantic feelings for him, no matter how handsome and kind he was, or how much in love with her. She didn't feel that for him in the present tense, although she was sure she had years before. But no longer. She was certain of it.

“I was afraid you'd say something like that,” he said sadly. “And maybe you're right. I asked you the same question after Natalya and I got divorced, once you moved back to L.A. You gave me pretty much the same answer, although I think you were still angry at me then. You had every right to be. I was a sonofabitch when I left you, and I deserved everything I got, in spades. The follies of youth … or in my case, middle age. I don't have any right to what I just asked you, I just had to give it another shot. And I'll be here for you too, forever. You can count on me, Carole. I hope you know that.”

“I just did,” she said, with tears brimming in her eyes. He had been incredible ever since her accident. “I love you, Jason, in the very, very best way.”

“Me too,” he said, and they kissed chastely across her bed. In the end, keeping things the way they were felt right to her. And even to him. He had seen a flicker of hope for an instant, or wished he did, and wanted to ask her. If there was a chance, he didn't want to miss it. And if not, he loved her anyway. He always had. He was sad to be leaving Paris. Despite the circumstances, he had enjoyed spending time with her. And he knew he would miss her again when he left. But they'd be spending Christmas together at least, in

L.A. with their kids.

Stevie was planning to stay in Paris with Carole until she flew back to L.A., no matter how long it took. She had spoken to Alan several times, and he was understanding about her staying in Paris. For once, it made sense to him that she was there with Carole. He was supportive of the stress she was going through, and didn't complain. Stevie loved him for it. There were times when Alan really was a good guy, no matter how different their needs and goals were, or their views about marriage.

Anthony came to see his mother at the hospital before he left for New York, spent an hour with her, and told her, as Jason had, how grateful he was that she'd survived. Chloe had said the same thing to her, when she came to say goodbye to her mother an hour before, on her way to the airport. They were all so deeply relieved that she was alive.

“Try to stay out of trouble, at least for a little while, until I get home. No more crazy trips like this on your own. At least take Stevie with you next time.” Anthony wasn't sure it would have changed anything, if she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the thought that he had almost lost his mother in a bomb blast in Paris still made him shudder. “Thanks for inviting Dad to spend Christmas with us. That was nice of you.” He knew that otherwise his father would have been alone. There hadn't been an important woman in his life for quite some time. And it was the first holiday the four of them would be spending together in eighteen years. The last one they had shared as a foursome was a dim memory for him, and he wasn't sure it would happen again after this year, so it meant a lot to him, and to his father as well.

“I'll behave,” Carole promised, looking proudly at her son. Even though she no longer remembered the details of his childhood, it was easy to see he was a fine young man, just as his father had said. And his love for his mother shone brightly in his eyes, as did hers for him.

They both cried when they hugged for the last time, even though she knew she'd be seeing him again soon. She cried easily now, and everything seemed more emotional to her. She had so much to learn and absorb. It was truly like being reborn.

As Anthony was about to leave her room, after they hugged, a man walked in. It was the tall, erect Frenchman who had visited her before and brought her flowers. She could never remember his name, and what remained of her French eluded her completely. She could understand what the doctors and nurses said around her, but she couldn't answer them in French. It was hard enough speaking English again, and remembering all her words. She was speaking well now, but speaking French was still beyond her.

Anthony seemed to freeze where he stood, and the Frenchman looked at Anthony with a small smile and a nod. She could see that her son recognized him, as Anthony's whole body appeared to stiffen and the look in his eyes was one of ice. Clearly, he was not happy to see this man. The Frenchman had said he was a friend of the family and knew her children, so she wasn't surprised that they recognized each other. But she was upset to see that Anthony looked shocked.

“Hello, Anthony,” Matthieu said quietly. “It's been a long time.”

“What are you doing here?” Anthony said unpleasantly. He hadn't seen him since he was a child. He glanced at his mother protectively, as Carole watched them, trying to understand.

“I came to see your mother. I've been here several times.” There was a distinct chill between the two men, and Carole had no idea why.

“Does she remember you?” Anthony asked coldly.

“No, she doesn't,” Matthieu answered for her. But Anthony remembered him only too well, and how much he had made his mother cry. He had forgotten it until now. He hadn't seen him in fifteen years, but he remembered as if it had been yesterday how devastated she had been when she told him and Chloe they were leaving Paris. She had cried as though her heart would break, and he had never forgotten it.

Anthony had liked Matthieu before that, a lot in fact. He had played soccer with him, but he hated him when he watched his mother cry, and she told him why. It was Matthieu who had made her cry. And he remembered now that there had been tears before that. For many months. He had been happy to go back to the States, but not to see his mother so distraught when they left. As he recalled, she had been sad for a long time, even once they were back in L.A. He knew she had sold the house eventually and said they were never going back. It didn't matter to Anthony by then, although he had made good friends there. But he knew it mattered to his mother, and if she had had her memory, it might matter to her even now. It worried Anthony considerably to see Matthieu in her room.