college kid than a grownup. I still haven’t told my mom, and I won’t. She doesn’t need to know. She’d just give me a headache about it, and it was bad enough. She was a real example of the kind of dating risks not to take. She would go out with anything that moved. She always thought it was safe, even when you could see it wasn’t. She had miserable judgment.”
“What about you? How’s your dating life these days?” Avery was worried about her. Todd had moved out more than eight months before, and Francesca had made no real effort to meet someone else. She didn’t seem to care.
“I don’t have one. I’m not even sure if I want one. I never meet anyone I’m interested in through my work. The artists I meet are all flakes, or pompous, or narcissistic. It just seems like too much work, and the clients who hit on me are always jerks. The nice ones are married.”
“You’re too young to give up,” Avery said firmly.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not. I miss having someone in my life, but I don’t want a mismatch like I had with Todd, and figure it out five years later. You invest four years, figure out he’s the wrong guy, and then have a year of grief, and break up, and it breaks your heart. And five years go down the drain. I’m finding it a little hard to reenlist.”
“I hear Todd’s engaged,” Avery said cautiously.
“Yes, he is. Brave guy. He was suddenly in a big hurry to get married and have kids. God knows if he’s marrying the right woman. All he wants is a brood mare and someone to take to the Christmas party at his law firm. I’m not the type for either.”
“That’s a little harsh on both of you,” Avery said gently. She liked Todd. Just not for Francesca. She had never thought it was right, even in the beginning when they did. Avery had never thought he was interesting enough for her.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Francesca answered. “I don’t know what I want anymore. Arty, conservative, married, not married, living together, not. It’s all so goddamn complicated, and at this age everyone is damaged. They’ve all been screwed over by someone else, and so have I.” She was thinking of Chris when she said it. He readily admitted to being relationship-phobic, and she was beginning to feel that way too. “Maybe I’m too comfortable by myself now.” She’d been desperately lonely at first without Todd, but she wasn’t anymore. She liked doing what she wanted without having to consult anyone. “My roommates keep me company. I have Ian as the token child in my life, my artists to drive me nuts, they’re kind of like having permanent adolescents in your life. Why do I need a man?”
“When was the last time you had sex?” Avery asked her bluntly. “You might not want to give that up quite yet at thirty-five. It’s kind of nice.”
“Oh that.” Francesca grinned sheepishly. “I don’t even miss that anymore. I just turn it off.” It had been more than a year since she and Todd had stopped sleeping with each other, and having sex, before he left. “And I don’t have to shave my legs.”
“That’s attractive,” Avery teased her. She was worried about her. She seemed turned off, or shut down. It had taken her longer than expected to get over Todd, and it had obviously been a more traumatic disappointment than Avery thought it would be at first. But five years was a long time. And her struggle to keep the gallery and the house had been frightening for her.
“I do want to do some new things though. I’m going to Art Basel in Miami this year, just for the hell of it. I’m not showing there. And next summer I want to go someplace other than Maine. I had a great time, but it reminds me too much of Todd. They’re his friends, not mine. I don’t know, maybe Europe next year. But not with my mother,” she said, and Avery laughed. They both agreed that Thalia was high maintenance, and traveling with her would have been a nightmare for Francesca. “Maybe I’ll take a trip with Marya next year, if she’s not married by then,” Francesca said pensively. She loved talking to her stepmother. It gave her perspective about life, and she was so kind. She was a terrific friend.
“Is Marya getting married?” Avery looked surprised.
“She might. She hasn’t decided yet. She and Charles-Edouard are in love. He’s getting divorced.”
“That’s interesting. They’re terrific together. You know the old saying, there’s a lid for every pot. You just have to find yours.” The trouble was that Francesca wasn’t trying, and it wasn’t going to fall down the chimney in a white beard and red velvet suit into her arms. Avery remembered too easily all the men she had gone out with before Henry, the bad relationships she’d had, the disappointments, the heartbreaks, and the good relationships too. Avery hadn’t been desperate to get married either, but she did want to find the right man to spend time with. She never settled for less. It had taken her until she was fifty to find him, and the minute she met him, she knew Henry Thayer was it. That hadn’t happened to Francesca yet, and Avery hoped it wouldn’t take her as long. At least she was enjoying her life in the meantime. But Avery couldn’t decide if Francesca’s roommates were a good idea or not. They kind of blunted her hunger for meeting anyone, and it was too easy to just content herself with being with them, with no relationship in her life.
Her father came out of the barn that was his studio then, and smiled at both women as he put an arm around their shoulders. “How’s my favorite business partner?” he asked as he kissed his daughter. “Are we rich yet?”
“Maybe next year.” Francesca grinned. But the gallery was doing well. Better than it had the year before. Little by little, she was building the business, and it was making a small profit, more so than before, although not a big one yet. But it gave her hope. She was hanging in.
Before she left Connecticut after the weekend, Francesca promised to invite them for one of Charles-Edouard and Marya’s world-famous dinners, and her father was thrilled. He liked them both, although he had only met Marya twice, and Charles-Edouard once, but he thought he was a great guy. And he loved the Cuban cigars he had shared with him, even if Avery disapproved of their smoking.
Francesca thought about it on the drive home, and once again Avery had given her perspective. She thought about what she’d said about dating, and finding the right lid. In her case she wasn’t even sure of the size and shape of her pot, let alone what lid would fit on it. She felt as though she had changed a lot in the last year without Todd. She felt more confident and sure of herself. She had come into her own without him, more than she had with him, which told her a lot about the relationship and herself. She wasn’t a half of anything now, she was a whole person. It had also done her good to have roommates and have to adjust to other people. As an only child, she’d never had to do that when she was young. She respected Marya and Chris, and they were all very different. And it was fun having Ian in her life. She’d never been that close to a child before. He was kind of a good introduction to it. Having kids didn’t seem as daunting now as it had before, as long as they were as cute as Ian, although there was no guarantee of that. He was about as cute as it got.
When she got home, she could hear noise in the kitchen, and went downstairs to see what it was. It was late for dinner, and they didn’t seem like happy sounds. She could hear loud noises and the clanking of pots. When she walked down the stairs, she saw her kitchen under six inches of water. Charles-Edouard was wearing a Panama hat and shorts, barefoot in the water, waving a cigar as he gave directions and asked questions. Marya was wearing Wellington boots and trying to help with a distressed expression. The kitchen table and chairs were in the garden with things stacked on them. And Chris was soaking wet in a bathing suit and sweatshirt, wading through the water and crawling under the sink, trying to locate the pipe that had exploded and flooded the kitchen.
“Oh shit,” she said, rolling up her jeans and taking off her own shoes as she waded in next to Chris. “What can I do to help? I’m sorry you got stuck with this.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a grin, and she felt guilty for not being there when it happened, and for all he was doing. This was exactly what Todd had hated about the house and why he wanted to sell it the year before. It was a very old house and things happened. Charles-Edouard poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. It looked like a party in the midst of a flood. Charles-Edouard and Ian were having fun. The others weren’t.
“I got the water turned off,” Chris explained. “It happened while we were all out. It’s probably been running all day. We’ll have to find someone to get the water out of here tomorrow, and you need a plumber. I think this one is over my head.” As he said it, Ian took a leap off the stairs and landed in the large pool of water with a delighted splash.
“This is cool!” he squealed, and Chris told him to stop it or go back upstairs. Ian made a face and waded toward Charles-Edouard. There wasn’t much they could do about it that night, although Chris made a few more passes at trying to locate the leak and finally gave up. Francesca had been holding the flashlight for him under the sink, and she was soaked now too. Her jeans were wet to the waist.
“Have you all eaten dinner?” Francesca asked apologetically, and Charles-Edouard said they hadn’t. She
