Loving (20 page)

"Delightful. And why is that unethical? You said you were also my friend."

He smiled slowly then, and she smiled in answer. "Is it a date, then?" She nodded. "Then I'll call them and I'll let you know before you leave when they can make it."

"By the way, when am I leaving?" They had both forgotten as she told him her life story.

"How about today?" She thought briefly of the hotel to which she would have to return. It was not a very cheerful thought. It was the place where she had stayed with Anthony and suddenly she didn't want to go back there. "Something wrong?"

But she shook her head briskly. "No. Nothing at all." She had to work it out for herself. And he was right. What she needed was a normal life, a simple job. She could wait another six months to start her play. All she needed now was an apartment, a job, and a divorce. She'd work out the first two and hopefully John's friend would help her with the last one. Now she understood she was divorcing more than just a person this time. John helped her see that. She had to divorce a whole life.

Five days later Bettina had her own apartment, a tiny but quaint studio overlooking the bay. It had previously been the main parlor in a lovely Victorian owned by three men. They had fixed up the two top floors for themselves and had divided the bottom floor into two studio apartments, which they rented out. Bettina got the larger one, and it was a beauty. It had a fireplace, two huge French windows, a tiny balcony, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a devastatingly beautiful view. She was enchanted when she first saw it, and the miracle of it was that it was something even she could afford. The rent was so low that she could have managed just on her monthly money from Ivo, which she would have, no matter what, for the coming years.

Two days after she found her apartment John Fields arrived to take her to dinner with his lawyer friend and his wife.

"Bettina, you're going to love them."

"I'm sure I will. But you haven't told me. How do you like my place?" She looked at him as they left her apartment. He had commented only on the view. But now he looked at her squarely as he opened his car door. He drove a small American compact, in a subdued navy blue. There was nothing flashy or ostentatious about his clothes, his car, or his person. Everything was attractive, but quiet, like the tweed jacket he wore, the button-down shirt, the gray slacks, the well-polished loafers. In fact it was oddly comforting. He was predictable, in his style and taste. He looked like every good American ought to, he was every mother's dream of the perfect son. Handsome, bright, attractive, well-mannered, a graduate of Stanford, a doctor. Bettina smiled at him. He was really a damn good-looking man. She felt suddenly awkward in his presence. As though everything she had on was too expensive, too showy. Maybe he was right. She did have a lot to learn. "Well, what about my apartment, Doctor? Isn't that some find?"

He nodded slowly with a smile. "It is and I like it. But it still has the look of 'Milady's Manor.' I kept waiting for you to tell me you'd rented the whole house."

He smiled to soften his words as he helped her into the car. The door slammed shut, and she wondered if she'd worn the wrong dress. She was wearing a white wool that she and Ivo had bought in Paris. It wasn't dressy, but it was easy to see that it was expensively made. It was a simple dress with long sleeves and a small collar, and she had worn it with a single strand of pearls and black kid Dior shoes. But when she reached the Waterstons' house in Marin County, she knew that she had made a faux pas again.

Mary Waterston came to the door, smiling broadly, her hair swept up on the back of her head with a leather thong. She was wearing a button-down shirt, a green V-neck sweater, bare feet, and jeans. And Seth arrived in almost the same costume. Even John looked overdressed, but he had come from the office. Bettina didn't have that excuse. She shook their hands with a faint look of embarrassment, but they were quick to put her at ease. Seth was a tall, handsome, sandy-haired man with a cowlick, a look of surprise, and seemingly endless legs. Mary was small, dark-haired, and pretty in spite of horn-rimmed glasses, and she was almost as thin as Bettina except that she had a somewhat noticeable paunch. A little while later she saw Bettina glance at her bulging midriff and she grinned.

"I know, isn't it awful? I hate this stage, everyone just thinks you're fat." She patted it fondly, and then explained. "Number two on the way. The first one is asleep upstairs."

"Is she?" John had just joined them, the two men had been outside for a moment and had just returned. "I had hoped we would see her." He looked warm and kind as he said it, and for an odd moment Bettina felt something pull at her heart. Why hadn't she ever had a man who felt that way about children? It had been a closed door with Ivo. And Anthony had hated the baby from the start. For a moment she felt a terrible flash of pain as she looked at Mary. Only a few weeks before she had been about as pregnant as that.

"When is the baby due?" she asked her softly.

"Not till August."

"Are you still working?" But Mary only laughed.

"No, that's a thing of the past, I'm afraid. I used to be an O.B. nurse until the first time I got pregnant. Now I seem to be a regular patient there." The three of them grinned. And somehow Bettina felt left out. John had been right. It all seemed so normal. And she suddenly longed to be one of them.

"How old is your first one?"

"Nineteen months." Bettina nodded and the other woman smiled. "Do you have children?" But Bettina only shook her head.

They all drank red wine and ate steaks that Seth barbecued for dinner. And after coffee John offered to go out to the kitchen to lend Mary a hand. He had orchestrated that earlier with Seth, who looked at Bettina as soon as they were alone and gave her a warm smile.

"I understand you want a dissolution?" She looked at him in confusion and he laughed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand...."

"That's California legal jargon. I apologize. John mentioned that you're looking for an attorney to get a divorce." She nodded, and then sighed. "Can I help?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

"Why don't you come to my office tomorrow? Say around two?" She nodded gratefully. A few minutes later John was back, but somehow she felt degraded by her exchange with Seth, by Mary's gently bulging stomach, by all of it. She had such a long way to go to be like them. And if they knew the truth, they'd never accept her. Look at them. Mary was thirty-five, the two men thirty-six, they all had respectable careers in medicine or in law. Seth and Mary had a house in the suburbs, one child, another on the way. How could she expect them to accept her? Later, when John took her back to her place, she told him mournfully what she had felt.

"You don't have to tell them. No one ever needs to know. That's the beauty of you starting out fresh here."

"But what if someone finds out, John? I mean, my father was very well-known. Conceivably one day I could come across someone who once knew me."

"Not necessarily. And that was so long ago, who would recognize you? Besides, no one needs to know about your marriages, Bettina. That's behind you now. You have to start fresh. You're still very young. No one would even suspect you had been married before."

And then she looked at him hauntingly. "Is it so terrible that I have?" But he didn't answer for a long moment.

"Bettina, it's just something no one needs to know." But he hadn't said that it wasn't awful. He hadn't told her what she had needed to hear. "Did you make an appointment with Seth?"

She nodded. "Yes, I did."

"Good. Then you can get that taken care of. And then you can find a job." But it was odd. She really didn't want to. Except that she knew she should. She had to have the job for respectability because John thought so. She suddenly knew just how much it mattered to her what this man thought.

A few weeks later she found a job in an art gallery on Union Street, and although it was neither exciting nor immensely profitable, it occupied most of her time. She worked from ten in the morning until six at night. And sitting at a desk smiling innocuously at strangers all day seemed to leave her exhausted, though she couldn't even remember what she'd done.

But she had finally become one of the great working class, working all day, and bored with it, and anxious to find a reason to get out of her job.

John took her out two or three times a week, for dinner or a movie, and they were beginning to spend some time together on the weekends. He loved to play tennis and sail. The time they shared was certainly healthful. Bettina was looking better than she had in a long time, and she had a deep honey-colored tan. It set off the reddish lights in her hair, and her eyes looked more like emeralds than ever. The four months in San Francisco had been good for her in many ways.

Tonight he had cooked at his apartment and they were lingering over coffee.

"Want to stop by and see the Waterstons tonight? Seth says Mary's getting antsy and the doctor won't let her come to the city anymore. She delivered last time in under two hours, and he's afraid that this time she won't make it to the hospital at all."

"Oh, Jesus." And then she looked at him thoughtfully with a half smile. "That whole baby thing scares me to death."

"But you were pregnant." He looked surprised at her reaction. Having a baby was so normal. Why would any healthy woman be afraid?

"I know, and I was excited about the baby. But every time I thought about the rest of it, it scared me to death."

"But why? Don't be silly. There's nothing to be afraid of. Mary's not afraid."

"She's a nurse."

And then he looked at her more gently. "If you ever had a baby, Bettina, I'd be there with you." She wasn't sure what he meant for a moment. As a friend? Or a doctor? Even though they'd been sleeping together for three months now, she wasn't quite sure what he meant. There was something so oddly uncuddly about their relationship that she was never sure if they were really lovers, or just friends.

"Thank you."

"You don't sound very excited at the prospect." He smiled at her and she laughed at him.

"It all seems very far off."

"What, having children? Why should it be?" And then he smiled at her more tenderly. "You could have one by next year." But she wasn't sure she wanted one anymore. She wanted to write her play.

"That doesn't mean I will." It seemed a safe answer, and he laughed.

"Well, you certainly could. Let's see ... when is your divorce final?" Suddenly she felt her heart racing. What was he asking her? What did he mean?

"In two months. September." Her voice was oddly soft.

"We could get married then, get you pregnant immediately, and presto magic, next June you have a baby. How does that sound to you?" He was looking at her more closely now, and she felt his hand reach for hers.

"John ... are you serious?"

And then very softly, "Yes, I am."

"But so--so quickly? ... We don't have to get married the minute the divorce comes through ... it's...."

He looked at her in consternation. "Why not? Why would we wait to get married?"

And then, fearing his disapproval again, "I don't know." People like John Fields don't live with someone. They get married. They have babies. Bettina knew that for sure now. He was not going to fool around. And not complying with his wishes meant fresh failure. It meant not measuring up, not being "normal." And she didn't want to do that anymore.

"Don't you want to, Betty?" She hated the nickname, but she had never told him, because there were other things about him that she did love, his solidity, the way you could count on him, he was reliable and sturdy and handsome, and he made her feel like an ordinary, regular person, when they played tennis, or had dinner, or joined some of his friends for a Sunday sail. It was a life she had never known before. Never. Until she met Dr. John Fields. But marry him? Get married again? Now? "I don't know. It's too soon." It was only a whisper.

He looked at her unhappily. "I see." And then he seemed to pull away.

The next morning, on her way to the gallery, Bettina thought again about John's proposal. What more did she want? Why wasn't she ecstatic? Because, she answered herself slowly, what she wanted more than children or marriage was time. She wanted to find herself, Bettina, the person she had lost somewhere along the way while she was so busy changing names. She knew she had to find her, before it was too late.

She let her car idle at a stop sign, as she once again remembered his words, and the look on his face when she told him it was too soon. It was too soon. For her. And what about her play? If she married him now, she'd never write it, she'd get too caught up in his life and being Mrs. John Fields. That wasn't what she wanted now ... she wanted-- A horn bleated angrily as she remembered where she was and moved on. But she couldn't keep her mind on her driving, she could barely even keep her eyes on the road. She just kept thinking of the look on his face when she said-- And then suddenly there was an odd thump against the front of her car, and she heard a woman scream. Startled, she stomped hard on the brake, and as she jolted forward against her seat belt she looked around. There were people standing, staring ... they were staring at her ... at ... what were they looking at ... oh, my God! Two men were bending down, talking to someone right in front of her car. But she couldn't see. What was it? Oh, God, it couldn't ... she didn't ... but as she flew from her seat she knew.

As she shakily ran to the front of the car, she saw him, a man in his early forties, lying prone on the street.

She felt panic rise in her throat. She knelt next to the man, trying to keep from crying. He was well dressed in a dark business suit, and the contents of his attache case were strewn over the ground. "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry ... isn't there anything I can do?"

The police were quiet and courteous when a few moments later they arrived on the scene. An ambulance appeared only five minutes after. The man was removed. Bettina's name and license number were recorded. The police spoke to the eyewitnesses, their names written down in a careful little list compiled by a left-handed cop who looked barely older than a boy.