the first time in sixteen years, her life felt empty as a result.
“So I’m told,” he said, totally intrigued by her. They talked about his work then, and his travels, his time in the Middle East, the architecture they both loved. They talked about art and politics. They never stopped talking until the end of lunch, and they had both had a great time with each other. “I’m beginning to think it was a blessing breaking my arm,” he said with a broad smile as he looked at her. “If I hadn’t, I’d never have met you.” It was a nice way to look at it, and she was flattered. “Do you suppose we could do lunch again sometime?” he asked, looking hopeful, and she nodded.
“I’d like that.” She said it simply, thinking that he’d be an interesting friend to have.
“I’ll call you,” he promised, but she didn’t think much of it. Lots of men had said that to her over the years and never called her. And maybe he had a girlfriend. She hadn’t asked him that. The fact that he wasn’t married didn’t mean he was free. Anything was possible. She wasn’t counting on hearing from him again, although she liked him. But he was a celebrity, and his life could have been fuller or more complicated than he admitted. She knew that about men too. She’d been on lots of first dates in the last twenty years. And never heard from the guys again.
He helped her into a cab after lunch, and she went back to her office. Ted called her and said that he had talked to Kate and she was adamant about not going back to school until next semester. She was determined to work in the tattoo parlor. He was very annoyed at her and had told her so himself. Katie didn’t care. She had made up her mind.
Two days later Liz came home from Paris, and she got nowhere with Kate either. She wanted to spend time with her younger sister, but she was too busy. Three days after Liz got back, she had to go out to L.A. for a story. She was doing a piece on the important jewelry of big stars of days gone by. She had tracked down more than a dozen important pieces and their new owners. And they had moved up the shooting date on her while she was in Paris. She hardly had time to unpack and switch bags. Jean-Louis was coming back to New York the day she left. He had stayed in Paris for a couple of days to see Damien, and he was planning to be back in New York when Lizzie returned from California.
Liz told Annie that they had had a wonderful time together in Paris, and his son was the sweetest little boy. He was no trouble at all. Lizzie was still sorry for Damien that they were sending him away to live with his grandmother, which was easier for his parents, but not necessarily best for him. Lizzie had her doubts about it, but she didn’t feel comfortable being too emphatic about it to Jean-Louis. It was his son after all, not hers. If Damien had been hers, she would never have parted with him, which was why she didn’t want kids yet. She didn’t have time for them, and she was smart enough to know it.
Liz stopped by at the apartment before she flew to L.A., and she felt bad to see Annie struggling on crutches, although Annie was better at it than she’d been in the beginning. But she was tired and still hurting and worried about Kate. Liz promised to try and talk to her sister again after L.A.
Paul helped Katie move out of the dorm that weekend. They brought all her stuff back and put it in her room in Annie’s apartment, and then they went out to meet friends and go to a movie. Paul was around constantly now, which worried Annie too. No matter how nice he was, Annie was still concerned about their seemingly serious relationship and its potential impact on them.
They were all busy and had their own lives. Annie was busy with her projects, Katie was either at work or with Paul, Ted had become a mystery man, rarely in evidence, and Liz was still in California. And on Sunday, Annie decided she needed a break and went to a farmers’ market she liked in Tompkins Square Park in the East Village. There were fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade jams, and canned goods. It was hard to negotiate with her ankle, but she managed with a string bag in each hand as she held her crutches. She was talking to a Mennonite woman in a lace cap about her homemade preserves, when Annie looked up and found herself face-to-face with Ted on the other side of the same stand.
She was startled to see him there. He was with a woman and two children. She was carrying a big basket and filling it with homemade things, and the children were clinging to him as though he were their father. This was no casual acquaintance, Annie realized as she watched them. This was a woman he was deeply involved with, and she was visibly many years older than Ted. In harsh daylight, she looked even older than her thirty-six years.
And as Annie looked straight at him from a few feet away, and their eyes met, Ted looked as though he would burst into tears. There was no escape. He had to introduce them. He introduced Pattie to his aunt, and both her children, and Annie was even more shocked to realize that the woman he was obviously seeing was only a few years younger than she was. And Annie was in better shape and looked younger.
Annie greeted Pattie politely and was nice to the children, and she said very little to Ted. It was obvious that this was the secret he’d been keeping, and he didn’t look proud of it. He looked terrified of Annie’s reaction. She smiled gently at him and kissed him before she walked away, on her crutches, with her string bags. All she said to Ted as she kissed him goodbye was “Call me this week.” He knew exactly what that meant. She wanted an explanation of what he was up to. She wasn’t going to let this slip by in silence. He had known that she wouldn’t.
And as he turned back to Pattie after Annie left, Pattie stared at him unhappily. He looked sick.
“You look terrified. She can’t do anything to you, Ted. You’re not a kid.” She looked uncomfortable. Annie’s shock and disapproval had been apparent, no matter how pleasant she had seemed.
“I am a kid to her,” he said, looking nervous.
“You don’t owe her any explanations. She’s not your mother, and even if she were, you’re a grown man. All you have to do is tell her that we’re in love with each other, and this is the choice you’ve made.” Pattie was pushing again. He hadn’t made that choice. He had fallen into it, like a soft featherbed he enjoyed being in. But he had no idea how long he wanted to be there or what it meant. Pattie was making assumptions that were comfortable for her, but Ted wasn’t sure of anything yet except that he liked being with her. And in his own eyes, not just Annie’s, he was still a kid. He felt like one. And he didn’t want Pattie dictating to him any more than he wanted Annie to.
All he could say to Annie honestly was that he was involved with Pattie and had been since just after Thanksgiving. He didn’t know anything more than that. He wasn’t sure if that would frighten her or reassure her. But he wasn’t ready to tell her that this was a choice he had made, as Pattie wanted him to. Pattie had made that choice. He hadn’t yet. He was just having a good time.
He was very quiet on the walk back to Pattie’s apartment with the full basket of fruits and vegetables they’d bought. He set it down in the kitchen for her, and she didn’t like the way he looked. He had been silent and upset ever since they ran into his aunt.
“What if she doesn’t approve, Ted?” she asked him bluntly. They both knew she was asking about Annie. “What if she tells you to give me up?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t do that. She’s a reasonable woman and she loves me. But I don’t know if she’ll understand. Twenty-four and thirty-six is hard to explain.” He was realistic about it. His roommates had met her and thought he was crazy. It was a complicated situation for him to be in, with two kids, no matter how great the sex was.
“It’s not hard to explain at all,” Pattie corrected him. “We love each other. That’s the only explanation anyone needs, including your aunt.”
“Maybe I need more of an explanation than that,” Ted suddenly said, more harshly than he meant to. But he hated it when she pushed him. “I need to know why this would work, and it’s a good idea. I still have to finish law school, and you have two kids. We’re at different stages in our lives. Sometimes it’s hard to bridge that.” He tried to be honest with her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She had her own version of the story, which was different from his. To her, this was true love. To Ted, it was great sex, and he didn’t know how much more it was than that.
She looked panicked. “This isn’t hard to bridge,” she insisted.
“You’re older than I am,” he said bluntly. “Maybe you can handle it better than I can. To be honest with you, sometimes it scares me.” He was always honest with her, whether she liked it or not. And she never wanted to hear his side.
“What are you scared of?” she asked plaintively.
“That we’ve backed ourselves into a corner that we’ll never be able to get out of, if we want to.”
“Is that what you want?” Pattie asked him with a suddenly evil look. She was whispering so the kids wouldn’t hear her. But they had turned on the TV, and they were in the other room. “Is that what you’re saying to me,” she said, with a malicious glint in her eyes, “you want out, Ted? Let me explain something to you. I waited a whole lifetime for a man like you, and I’m not going to let you cheat me of what we have. If you ever leave me, I’m going
