him, and would have liked it, but he didn’t want to give up his place, and for now, neither did she. She didn’t want to be that dependent on him, and maybe never would.
“I don’t know,” she said, looking thoughtful. “I’m not in love with my apartment, but it works for me. I suppose I could sell it one day.” But in the meantime, she liked staying with him, and they stayed at hers several times a week when it was more convenient for her. They were both surprisingly willing to adapt to each other, and reasonable people. “Maybe if something comes up in your building, I could buy it and sell mine, and add it to yours. It might give us what we need.” He liked that idea. There seemed to be solutions for everything. They hadn’t faced any major challenges or roadblocks yet, and their trip had been absolutely perfect, and continued to be. Nothing was pressing them, neither of them was pushing, they had no arguments or disagreements. They had enough space to move around in. And for now anyway, they enhanced each other’s lives and lost nothing in the bargain. It seemed ideal. She was meticulously neat around the house, and he was messy, but other than that, there were no problems, and she didn’t mind picking up after him in order to keep things neat. It embarrassed him at times, but he said he was constitutionally unable to be neat, it just wasn’t in his genes. So she picked up his clothes at night and hung them up, put his laundry where it belonged, and constantly tidied up his papers. It didn’t bother her and he didn’t care. It made him feel loved and taken care of.
They walked along the Seine in Paris, went to an art exhibit at the Grand Palais, had tea at the Plaza Athenee, and stuck their noses into every antique shop on the Left Bank. They had coffee at the Deux Magots in St. Germain des Pres, and walked all over Paris arm in arm, and stopped to kiss every chance they got. It was a city where you constantly saw people kissing. Public displays of affection in Paris were never frowned on, they were encouraged. It was the most romantic week Valerie had ever spent with any man, and they both hated to leave for London.
They spent five days there going to the theater, and an antique show. He took her shopping on New Bond Street and bought her a pair of silver lovebirds at Asprey. And once there, Valerie called Dawn and got started organizing April’s wedding. Dawn was excited to help her do it. April insisted she only wanted the staff from the restaurant, Ellen and Larry, and Mike thought he should invite his editor, his friend Jim and his wife, and another writer April didn’t know. And of course Pat and Maddie and Annie and Heather would come. At most, even including Ellen’s three boys, it came to fewer than forty people. It would be easy for Valerie to do at her apartment, although Jack had generously offered his, but she didn’t want him to have the inconvenience.
Valerie told Dawn she wanted the best caterer she could find, so April didn’t complain about the food, and had Dawn call a judge she knew, and the florist she always used. Valerie wanted five round tables of eight set up in her living room, and chamber music and no dancing, since April said they wanted a lunchtime wedding, with guests arriving at noon. It was embarrassingly simple. They even managed to have invitations made, which would be hand-delivered two weeks before the wedding. By the time she and Jack left for Venice, the whole thing had been arranged. And Jack insisted he wanted to give a big party for them later, maybe after she’d reopened the restaurant, and had the baby, when it would seem more festive. Valerie and April were both touched by his offer. But for now the simple ceremony and lunch at her mother’s apartment were all April wanted, and probably all Mike could handle. He was already nervous about it, although insistent that it was what he wanted to do too. And April was ecstatic. She joked to Ellen during one of her acupuncture appointments that as it turned out, she would be married, have a baby, and a successful business at thirty, just as she had always believed she should. But this wasn’t about “should,” it was about being totally in love with the man she was marrying, and excited now to have his baby. Ellen was delighted for them.
The days Jack and Valerie shared in Venice were the best of the trip. The light was beautiful there in May, the weather was perfect, and the food was much too good. Valerie said she’d have to starve when she went home. They took gondola rides and went to churches, kissed under bridges, and wandered everywhere on foot. They went across the lagoon to the Hotel Cipriani for lunch one day, and went to see the glass factory in Murano the day after. They bought a chandelier together for his kitchen. Valerie insisted it would look great with the Ellsworth Kellys and convinced him.
They had their last lunch at Harry’s Bar, took a final gondola ride under the Bridge of Sighs, and spent their last night at the Gritti Palace in bed making love, and then walked out on their balcony to look out over Venice in the moonlight.
“Could anything be more perfect?” he asked, as he put an arm around Valerie and held her close to him. It had been the perfect trip. “I think this was our honeymoon,” he said, smiling at her, and she nodded. They didn’t need to get married, they already had everything, and best of all, they both knew, they had each other.
Chapter 20
April was at the restaurant every day, meeting contractors, and watching the people Larry had hired clean up debris, and remove everything that been damaged by water or fire. The basement was dry now, and the little they had been able to salvage was being stored there. The reconstruction of the restaurant still seemed like a mammoth project. Larry had hired all the people he needed, and he came by himself several times every day to oversee it, between the other jobs he was doing. April was there from sunup to nightfall, doing whatever she could, and constantly making decisions. It worried Mike that she was working too hard and doing too much, but there was no way to stop her, as usual.
He showed up one day at noon with lunch for her, and was horrified to find her pulling boards away from the wall with a crowbar. She was still wearing the rubber boots she had bought, and a hard hat she had borrowed from one of the work crews. She was a sight with her huge belly hanging out of her jeans, dirt all over her face, and work gloves, as she wrestled with the boards she then dropped at her feet.
“What in hell are you doing?” he shouted at her as she put the crowbar away. She could hardly hear him through the workers jack-hammering the floor in the kitchen. “You’re going to have the baby right here, if you don’t stop it!”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t look sorry at all. She couldn’t wait for him to leave so she could go on working and do more.
“You know, this may come as a shock to you, but they can do this without you. Women in their ninth month of pregnancy are not usually considered part of the workforce on this kind of project. Maybe you should join the union.” She took the hard hat off and wiped her face as she grinned at him. The truth was she was enjoying helping with the work, and he knew it. Nothing would have slowed her down or kept her away. April was only happy when she was working. She sat down on a stack of bricks as he sat down next to her, and handed her the sandwich he had brought her.
“Thanks, I was starving,” she said, as a truck arrived and the driver walked toward her. They were expecting more electrical fixtures, and she hoped this delivery was them.
“I have baby furniture for April Wyatt,” the driver said, pointing at the truck. “From Valerie Wyatt.” April had forgotten all about it. Her mother had mentioned it before she left.
“I don’t live here anymore,” she said, indicating the shambles around her. “Could you deliver it somewhere else?”
“In the city?” The driver didn’t look pleased.
“Yeah. Uptown.” He nodded. He could see that there was no way she could accept it here.
“Someone should have called us,” he grumbled, but wrote down Mike’s address. “Is there anyone there to accept it?” And of course there wasn’t. Mike was going back to work and she was busy here.
“How about four o’clock?” she asked him, and he grudgingly agreed, and walked back to his truck and drove away. April knew she could be back at Mike’s by then, and she would be exhausted before that anyway, so ready to go home. She had been at the restaurant since eight o’clock that morning.
“How much is there?” Mike asked her as she finished her sandwich. He had a small living room and bedroom, a tiny office, and a kitchen the size of a closet. There was no room for a lot of additional furniture there, in fact none at all. But she didn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings. And the baby needed a place to sleep. She knew her mother had bought a crib and “a few other things” before she left for Europe. April had borrowed almost everything she needed from friends, and her mother had bought the rest, even a fancy layette from Saks that was due to be
