“Have you heard from him at all?” Gail asked sadly. It was a terrible story, and had very nearly come to a worse ending.
India shook her head. “No. And I don't think I ever will again. It really is over. It's taken me a long time to get that. But I do now. I haven't called him, and I won't. I don't want to torture him any more than he is already. We've both been through enough. I guess it's time to let go.” Gail nodded, hoping she really had. If he really didn't want her, she had to accept that. And it sounded as though she had, however painful it had been for her.
They had a pleasant lunch after that at Fernando's Steak House. And they talked about other things. Her kids, the story she had done about the model, and eventually Doug's girlfriend. India was bothered by it, but not terribly. She still cared about Doug, but she was relieved to be out of the marriage. Her life was much simpler now, and quieter. There was no one she wanted to go out with. She didn't think she'd be up to that for a long time, after Paul. And Gail didn't say anything more about it. India was in no condition to be dating anyone, or going on blind dates, or casual ones, or having a quick flash of flesh in a motel. That had never been her style anyway. And Gail could see easily now how wounded she was, far more than her scars or her broken arm, or still tender neck. The real wounds were deep inside, where no one could see them, or touch them. They had been left there by Paul, his final gift to her, and India was convinced they would take a lifetime to heal. She had never loved any man, as she loved him, and she couldn't imagine going through it again. One day there would be someone, Gail was sure, but he would never touch the part of India Paul Ward had.
Raoul called the day they took the cast off her arm, and he said he had a story for her. She was expecting another local assignment, like the rape trial. He knew about the accident, and she figured he'd been going easy on her.
“How good do you feel?” he asked her cautiously, and she laughed. She was actually beginning to smile again.
“Why? Do you want to take me dancing? Okay, I guess. Though I don't think I'm up to tap yet. Maybe a little slow samba. What did you have in mind?”
“How do you feel about African rhythms these days?” he asked, and she could feel something spark deep inside her. It reminded her of the old days. “How does Rwanda sound to you?”
“Very far away,” she said honestly.
And he was equally honest with her. “It is. And it'll be a tough story. There's a hospital in the jungle, taking care of the orphans who have gathered there over the last few years. Some of them are badly scarred, and still very damaged. They have terrible diseases, terrible problems. And there's not much help for them there. A bunch of Americans have kind of adopted the project, along with some missionaries from France, Belgium, and New Zealand. It's still kind of a melting pot of volunteers. It would make a great story if you want to do it. I won't push you. I know you've been sick, and you've got your kids to think of. It's up to you, India. I won't push. It's your decision.”
“How long would it take?” she asked thoughtfully, mulling over what he'd said.
“Honestly? About three weeks, could be four. I think you could do it in three.” If she did, she had to figure out what to do with her children.
“I'd love to do it,” she said, without really thinking about it. It was exactly what she had wanted when she had come back to work. And although it was a tough spot, there was no immediate danger for her there, other than the usual tropical hazards, and disease. And all her shots for that part of the world were out of date. “Can I think about it for a couple of days?”“I have to know tomorrow.”
“I'll see what I can do.” She sat by the phone, thinking for a little while, and then she decided to take the bull by the horns. She had nothing to lose. All he could do was refuse her.
She called Doug at his office, and told him about the story. She wanted to know if he would take care of the children while she was away. There was a long silence at the other end and then he asked her a question she hadn't expected, but it made sense.
“Could I stay with them in Westport?” For once, there was no accusation, there were no insults, no threats. It no longer mattered to him what she did, as long as she was responsible about what she did with their children.
“Sure. I guess so. It would probably be better for them anyway.”
And then the kicker. “Could Tanya come with me?” She'd been living with him for several weeks, with both her kids. India wasn't anxious to have all of them under her roof, though she had room for them too. She thought about it for a long moment, but the trip to Africa rested on that for her, and reluctantly she agreed. She wasn't thrilled that he'd asked her, but if it meant his taking over for her, it was worth it to her to let him bring Tanya and her children too, although she wasn't sure what her own children would say about it. She knew they hated Tanya, and both her kids. “It's a deal then,” he said, and she smiled. It was the concept he always used, the one he most believed in.
“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “It sounds like a great story.” She was excited about it now, and she couldn't wait to call Raoul to tell him.
“How soon do you leave?”
“I'll tell you as soon as I know. I suspect pretty soon.”
“Sooner than that,” Raoul told her. She had to get all her shots immediately. She was leaving in a week. She whistled when he told her. It didn't give her much time to get organized, but she knew what she had to do.
She called Doug right back, and told him. He saw no problem with it, and she thanked him again. They were like strangers to each other now. It was hard to believe they had been married for seventeen years. Their marriage had ended so abruptly and so completely. It made her wonder now how much he had ever cared, and how important she had really been to him. And she could only assume that Tanya was a lot better than she was at following his rules. She had never worked, India knew. Her husband was a doctor. And he had given her an enormous settlement when he divorced her to marry his nurse, so Tanya was financially independent, and wouldn't be a burden on him.
India told the children about her trip that night, and that their father would be staying with them. They were pleased about that, but they all groaned when they heard that Tanya and her children were coming with him.
“Do they have to?” Aimee moaned, while Jason looked horrified.
“I'm not staying here,” Jessica announced grandly. She was fifteen now. But she had nowhere else to go.
“Can I stay with Gail?” Sam moaned.
“No,” India said firmly. “You can all stay here, and be nice about it. Daddy is doing me a favor by staying here, so I can do the story. And if that's how it has to be, you have to live with it. It's only for three weeks.”
“Three weeks!” Everybody screamed in unison. “Why?”
“Because it's a long way to go. And that's how long it will take.”
They all took appropriate revenge on her by either not speaking to her, or arguing with her about everything they could think of, from what they wore to where they went to who they went with. And for the next week she was sick. The shots made her violently sick to her stomach, and gave her a fever. But she was willing to do anything she had to, to make the trip and do the story.
The night before she left, she took them all out to dinner, and they grudgingly agreed to be nice to Tanya, if they really had to. But they swore that none of them would talk to her kids.
“You have to be nice. For Daddy's sake,” she reminded them.
And that night, halfway through the night, Sam crawled into her bed. He had just turned ten. And Jason thirteen. Aimee was now twelve. But the only one who still slept with her from time to time was Sam. He was going to miss her. But she knew that, with Doug there, they'd be fine. Tanya had even called to tell her she'd take over her car pools, and it made India realize for the first time that she was probably going to stick around. It was strange to realize that Doug's life had moved on so completely. The waters had closed over her, but she didn't object to Tanya as much as her children did. They said that she was “creepy,” and talked to them like babies, and wore too much makeup and perfume. But from India's perspective, it could have been a lot worse. He could have wound up with some twenty-two-year-old bimbo who hated the kids, and at least Tanya didn't. She seemed to be a good sport about them.