“And eight years older than Meg,” Wim added with a somber expression. He wasn't enjoying this either. All he wanted was to go home to his mother. He felt like a frightened child.
“Why don't you just go out with her? Why do you have to get married so soon? You and Mom aren't even divorced yet.” As she said it, Meg was near tears. And her father didn't answer the question. He looked right at her with a stern expression. He was not going to justify this to them. That much was clear. Meg couldn't help wondering if he'd lost his mind.
“We're getting married on New Year's Eve, and I'd like both of you to be there.” There was an endless silence at the table, as the waiter brought the check, and Wim and Meg just stared at their father. New Year's Eve was five weeks away. And this was the first they'd heard of it. It was already a done deal, which didn't seem fair, to say the least.
“I was planning to go out with my friends,” Wim said as though that would excuse him from an event he would do almost anything not to attend. But he didn't see how he was going to get out of it, judging by the look on his father's face. Peter was actually foolish enough, under the circumstances, to look stern.
“I think you'll have to skip that this year, Wim. It's an important day. I'd like you to be my best man.” There were tears in Wim's eyes as he shook his head.
“I can't do that to Mom, Dad. It would break her heart. You can make me come, but I won't be best man.” Peter didn't answer for a long moment, and then nodded and looked at Meg.
“I assume you'll be there too?” She nodded, and looked as devastated as her brother.
“Are we going to meet her before the wedding, Dad?” Meg asked in a choked voice. She didn't even know the woman's name, and in his anxiousness, he had forgotten to tell them, and then took care of it in the next breath.
“Rachel and I are going to have breakfast with you tomorrow. She wants you to meet Jason and Tommy too. They're adorable little boys.” In a single breath, he had a new family, and it occurred to Meg instantly that his new bride was young enough to want more babies. The very idea of it made her sick. But at least he was including them in the horror. It would have been worse if they'd been excluded, or he'd told them after the wedding.
“Where are you getting married?”
“At the Metropolitan Club. There will only be about a hundred people there. Neither of us wanted a big wedding. Rachel is Jewish, and we didn't want a religious wedding. We're going to be married by a judge friend of hers.” It was beyond thinking. The vision of her father marrying someone else nearly reduced Meg to hysterics, no matter how smart or nice the woman was. Like Wim, all she could do now was think of how it would affect her mother. She was going to be heartbroken. But hopefully not suicidal. If nothing else, Meg was glad that she and Wim were in town to bring her comfort.
“When are you going to tell Mom?” Meg asked cautiously. Wim hadn't said a word in minutes and was playing with the napkin in his lap.
“I'm not sure,” her father said vaguely. “I wanted both of you to know first.” And then Meg understood what he was doing. He wanted them to tell Paris. It was going to be their job to break the news to her.
He paid the check after that, and they rode back to the hotel in silence. He said goodnight to them, and left them alone in the connecting rooms he had taken for them for the night. And it was only after he had left that Meg flew into her brother's arms, and the two stood there and hugged, crying loudly, like children lost in the night. It was a long time before they finally let go of each other, blew their noses, and sat down.
“How are we going to tell Mom?” Wim said, looking as devastated as Meg felt.
“I don't know. We'll figure it out. We'll just tell her, I guess.”
“I guess she'll stop eating again,” he said, looking grim.
“Maybe not. She's got her shrink. How can he be so stupid? She's practically my age, and she's got two little kids. I think that's why he left Mom.”
“You do?” Wim looked stunned. He still hadn't made the connection, but he was naïve, and young.
“He wouldn't be getting married this fast otherwise. The divorce isn't even final for another week or two. He didn't lose any time. Maybe she's pregnant,” Meg added with a look of panic, and Wim laid on the bed and closed his eyes.
They called their mother after that, just to check in, but neither of them said a word about their father's plans. They just said they'd had a nice dinner at Le Cirque, and were going to bed at the hotel.
And that night, for the first time in years, they slept in the same bed, clinging to each other in innocent despair, just as they had when they were children. The last time they'd done that was when their dog died. Meg couldn't remember being as miserable since. It had been a very, very long time.
