“Why don't we just spend the night together, and hold each other? We don't need to make love. Let's just be here. You'll feel better in the morning.” She patted the bed for him to come closer to her.
“No, I won't.” He looked panicked. “I'll walk back to the city if I have to.” He didn't want to take the car and leave her stranded, but all he wanted now was to go home. He didn't even want to look at her. And if he had, all he would have seen was his late wife's face. He had blocked Paris out completely.
“I'll get dressed,” she said quietly, trying not to think of what was happening. She felt immensely sad, and the rejection was overwhelming for her. She wasn't angry at him, and she knew it had nothing to do with her, but it hurt anyway. She was disappointed that their weekend, not to mention their relationship, had turned out as it had.
Ten minutes later she followed him to the car in blue jeans and a sweater she had brought with her, and her suitcase hastily repacked. Jim put it in the back of his car without a word, as she slid into the passenger seat. And five minutes later they drove away. The hotel had an imprint of his credit card, so he didn't need to settle accounts with them. Only with himself. They were halfway to the city before he spoke to Paris, and all he could say was that he was sorry. He was stone-faced the rest of the way. And when she tried to put a hand on his, he didn't react. She wondered if he'd had too much to drink, and that increased his panic somehow. It was as though he was in the grip of a powerful demon. Or perhaps more simply, and more benignly, Phyllis had simply reclaimed him.
“I'm not going to call you again,” Jim said woodenly as he stopped in front of her house at two-thirty in the morning. “There's no point, Paris, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry I wasted your time.” He was angry at himself, but sounded as though he was angry at her.
“You didn't waste my time,” she said gently. “I'm disappointed for both of us. I hope one day you work this out, for your sake. You deserve not to be alone for the rest of your life.”
“I'm not. I have Phyllis and all our memories. That's enough for me.” And then he turned to her, and what she saw in his eyes broke her heart. They were two pools of pain that looked like burning embers. In the white heat of his misery, there was nothing left of him but ash. “And you have Peter,” he said, as though to let himself off the hook and draw her into the swamp of despair with him. But Paris shook her head.
“No, I don't, Jim,” Paris said clearly. “Rachel does. I have myself.” And with that she got out of the car quietly, took her bag, and walked up her front steps. She unlocked the door, and before she could turn to look at him or wave, Jim Thompson drove away. She never heard from him again.
And she couldn't help but think that he was exactly the sort of man that she should have been going out with, but he was dating a woman half her age, who in this case happened to be Meg. It was a very odd thought. But she didn't hold it against him, and they were sitting alone in her garden while Meg went upstairs for a few minutes, when Paris turned to him with a concerned expression.
“I don't want to be intrusive, Richard, but do you worry about the age difference between you?” He was twenty-four years older than Meg, exactly twice her age. And a year older than Paris.
“I try not to,” he said honestly. “The last woman in my life was older than I am, she was fifty-four. Generally, I've always gone out with women my own age. My ex-wife was, we were college sweethearts. But your daughter is a very special young woman, as you know.” He was handsome and rugged and looked younger than his years. And oddly enough, he looked very much like Meg and Paris, with green eyes and sandy blond hair. He looked almost more like Paris than Meg. And the two seemed extremely well suited to each other. In his company, Meg seemed to flourish and relax. She looked as though she felt totally safe with him. They had been dating for exactly two months, and Paris had the feeling it might be getting serious between them, from everything he said.
