“I wouldn't know how to run a business if my life depended on it,” Paris replied. “I never did. All I learned in business school was theory. I never practiced any of it. All I've done since then is be a wife and mother.”
“A respectable pursuit. Now it's time to do something else.”
“I don't want to do anything else.” Paris sank down in her chair with her arms crossed and looked like a pouting kid.
“Are you enjoying your life, Paris?” Anne said quietly with a calm expression.
“No, I'm not. I hate every minute of it.” And she felt certain she always would from now on.
“Then your assignment, before we meet again, is to think about what you'd
“I don't know what I like to do,” Paris said, looking blank. “I've been taking care of everyone else for the last twenty-four years. I never had time for me.”
“That's exactly my point. Now let's take care of you. Fun time. Think of two things or even one that you
Paris was still looking baffled when she left, and even more so when she tried to put pen to paper. She couldn't think of a single thing she liked to do, except that something Anne had said in her office had struck a chord with Paris, and she couldn't remember what it was. She was already in bed that night, in the dark, thinking about it some more, when she suddenly thought of it. Ice hockey. That was what Anne had said. Ice skating. She had loved it as a child, and always loved watching figure skaters in pairs. She went back to Anne victoriously three days later. She was still seeing her twice a week, and didn't feel ready yet to reduce it to one.
“Okay, I found something,” she said with a cautious smile. “Ice skating. I used to love it as a little girl. And I took Wim and Meg skating when they were small.”
“All right, then your assignment is to get yourself to an ice skating rink as soon as you can. By the time we meet again, I want to hear that you've been out on the ice, having some fun.”
Paris felt utterly ridiculous, but the following weekend she went to the Dorothy Hamill Skating Rink in Greenwich, and was out gliding around the ice on a Sunday morning. It was still early, and there was no one on the ice, except a few boys in hockey skates, and a couple of old ladies, who were surprisingly decent skaters, and had been skating for years. And by the time Paris had been out there for half an hour, she was having a ball.
She skated again the following week on a Thursday morning, and amazed herself by hiring an instructor to teach her to do spins. It was becoming her favorite pastime of the week, and by the time the kids came home for Thanksgiving, she had gotten pretty good. What she hadn't done yet was go anywhere socially. She had not been out for dinner, or an evening, or even a movie, since Peter left. She told Anne that it was too embarrassing to go out socially, with everyone knowing what had happened to her, and it was too depressing to go to the movies alone. The only place she had fun was on the ice. But at least she had that. And Wim and Meg were vastly impressed by her newfound expertise when she talked them into going skating with her on Thanksgiving morning. She felt like a kid again, and even Wim said he was proud of her when he saw what she could do.
“You look like Peggy Fleming, Mom,” Meg said admiringly.
“Hardly, sweetheart. But thanks anyway.” They skated together till almost noon. And then they went home to eat the turkey Paris had left in the oven while they went out. But in spite of the pleasant morning they'd shared, and the fact that she was thrilled to have them home, it was a difficult afternoon. The holiday seemed to underscore everything that had changed in the past year. It was agonizing for Paris, and Wim and Meg were scheduled to have dinner with Peter in the city the following night. He was anxious to see them too, but had understood that they wanted to be with their mother on Thanksgiving, and hadn't pressed the point with them.
Wim and Meg both looked very nice when they caught the five o'clock train into the city on Friday afternoon. It was snowing, and neither of them wanted to drive. He was taking them to Le Cirque for dinner, which seemed very festive and generous of him. They were both looking forward to it. Meg was wearing a little black dress of her mother's, and Wim had decided to wear a suit, and looked suddenly older than his years. He seemed to have matured noticeably in the three months since he'd left for school. And Paris was undeniably proud of him.
