“So would I, sweetheart.” Paris was touched by her daughter's concern and enthusiasm. “But I can always fly out more often. I'd love to see more of you.” Meg was planning to come home for Thanksgiving, but they had no plans to see each other sooner, which was going to be hard for Paris. “Maybe I can fly out once a month for a weekend.” She had nothing else to do now, but the truth was that Meg was busy on weekends. She had her own life. And eventually, Paris would need one too, she just wasn't ready to deal with it yet.
They cooked dinner together that night in the small cheerful kitchen. And slept in the same bed. And the next day, Paris wandered up and down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, window shopping, and then went back to the apartment to wait for Meg. She sat in the last rays of sun on the deck, thinking about what Meg had said, and wondering what to do about her life. She couldn't even imagine what the rest of her life would be like now, and she wasn't even sure she cared. She really didn't want to find another man, or date. If she couldn't have Peter, she would rather be alone, and spend time with her children and friends. Just the health risks of dating someone these days, and sleeping with them, seemed far too terrifying to her. She had said as much to Anne Smythe. It was far simpler to be alone.
Meg had a problem on the set that night, and didn't get home till ten o'clock. Paris made dinner for her, and was grateful to climb into bed with her. There was something so comforting about just lying next to another human being and feeling her warmth. She slept better than she had in months. And they had breakfast on the deck the next day. Meg had to be back on the set by nine, and Paris was taking a noon flight back to New York.
“I'm going to miss you, Mom,” Meg said sadly when she left. She had loved the two nights they had spent together. And Peace had said he thought her mother was great and a real babe, which she duly reported to her mother. Paris had laughed and rolled her eyes. He was harmless, she hoped, but definitely strange. And hopefully a temporary departure for Meg.
“I want you to come back and visit soon, even if you don't go up to see Wim.” They both knew that he wanted to spread his wings at last, and be independent from both of them.
As soon as Meg left for work, Paris felt a wave of sadness engulf her. As loving and welcoming as her daughter was, she was a grown woman, with a demanding job and a busy life. There was no room for Paris in it, except for a few days and brief visits. She had to make her own way now, and adjust to the realities of her life. The reality was that she was alone, and would stay that way. And she cried when she wrote Meg a note of thanks before she left. She was sad all the way to the airport in a cab, and on the flight back to New York. And when she walked into the silent house in Greenwich, the emptiness of it hit her like a bomb. There was no one. No Wim. No Meg. No Peter. There was no way to hide from it anymore. She was totally alone, and she thought her heart would break as she lay in bed that night, thinking of Peter, and how beautiful and familiar he had looked in California. It was hopeless. And as she drifted off to sleep in the bed they had once shared, she felt despair engulf her until she felt as though she were about to drown. It was still hard to believe sometimes that she'd survive. At night, alone in her bed, it seemed as though everyone she had ever loved was gone.
“What about a job?” Anne pushed her about it again one morning, and Paris looked hopeless.
“Doing what? Arranging flowers? Giving dinner parties? Driving carpool? I don't know how to do anything.”
“You have a master's degree in business administration,” Anne said sternly. She held Paris's feet to the fire with great regularity, but in some ways Paris loved her for it, although there were times when she hated her for it too. The bond of friendship and respect seemed to grow stronger between the two women week by week.
