“They must have food in the hospital for the patients,” she said, looking hopeful. “Maybe we can steal some.”
“Come on, let's try it,” he said, grinning, and hurrying toward the hospital with her.
They found several boxes of crackers that had grown soggy from the humidity, a box of Triscuits that had gone stale, hidden in a cupboard, a box full of grapefruits, several cartons of Wheaties that still looked pretty good and didn't have bugs in them, half a dozen huge bottles of milk, and a tray of slightly soft red Jell-O. They had crates of it, sent to them by a church group in Denver.
“Well, Scarlett …that looks to me like dinner,” he said, imitating Rhett Butler, as she poured the Wheaties into a bowl with milk, spooned some of the Jell-O into two bowls, and he cut up two of the grapefruits. It wasn't Daniel, but they were so hungry it looked good to both of them. They would have eaten the boxes the Wheaties came in if they had to. Neither of them had eaten anything since their picnic on the airstrip.
“Stale Triscuits or soggy Saltines?” she asked, holding both boxes out to him.
“You give me the nicest choices,” he said, pointing to the Triscuits.
They ate enough to curb their appetites, and they both looked more relaxed with each other than they had in a week, as they talked about Sam, and her other kids, and he told her about his conversation with his son Sean two months before, and this time he actually laughed about it.
“He said that at ‘my age,’ I really shouldn't need to date. And he seemed to see no reason why I shouldn't remain celibate to the end of my days, which he seemed to calculate as a hundred and fourteen.” He grinned. “At least I assume that's what he meant when he called me ‘middle-aged.’ Kids sure seem to have some strange ideas about their parents, don't they?” But he had a few strange ones of his own too, she knew, since he intended to remain faithful to the memory of Serena forever. But she didn't remind him of it. He looked too happy eating his Triscuits and his Jell-O for her to want to spoil it for him.
It was nice feeling at ease with him again. The crisis over Sam seemed to have broken the ice between them. And she didn't expect any more from him now, but at least they actually felt like friends. Knowing that was something she still cherished. It was where it all began for them, and they had shared so many confidences that it had brought them closer than some people ever were. It had been hard for both of them to lose that.
“What about you?” he asked, slicing another grapefruit for himself. She had had enough, but he was obviously still hungry. “Have you gone out with anyone?” It was a question he had been dying to ask her, and she looked startled by it.
“No. I've been too busy licking my wounds and growing up. Finding myself, I think they call it. I've been too involved with finding me to find anyone else. Besides, I really don't want to.”
“That's stupid,” he said bluntly.
“Oh, really? Who are you to talk? I don't see you out there on the singles scene, having dates with New “fork socialites and models. You're sitting at the top of a tree in Rwanda, slicing grapefruits and eating Jell-O.” It was a funny image and he laughed at it.
“You make me sound like half-man, half-monkey.”
“Yeah, maybe.” And then she wondered. “Or are you dating anyone?” She suddenly realized she really had no idea what he'd been doing. For all she knew, he was having affairs with half the nurses, but no one had said so. In fact, several people had made a point of telling her he was a nice guy, but a real loner.
“No, I haven't dated anyone,” he said, spooning the juice out of his second grapefruit. He looked boyish and comfortable, and as he had before, he liked being with her. She was smart and funny and easy to be with. The problem was, he knew he wasn't. Easy, at least. He had all the rest of the virtues in the universe sewed up, but certainly not that one. And then he said almost proudly,“I'm still faithful to Serena.” It was sad for him, but she understood it.
“How are the nightmares these days?” she asked cautiously. It had been a long time since she could ask him that kind of question.
“Better. I think I'm just too tired here to have them. I seem to run into trouble when I go back to civilization.”
“Yeah. I remember.” He had lasted exactly nine days the last time. And she had wound up with a broken heart, a broken arm, and a concussion.
“Why haven't you gone out with anyone?” he pressed her, and she sighed.
“I think the answer to that is obvious, Mr. Ward. Or at least it should be. I needed time to recover from you …and Doug. That was kind of a double punch for me, one disaster right after the other.” But in fact, it hadn't felt like a double loss as much as one very big one. She had actually lost Doug a long time before. But losing Paul had been the loss of everything she believed in and hoped for, the loss of the last of her illusions. “Maybe it was good for me. I guess it made me stronger in some ways, and clearer about what I want and need, if I ever have the courage to try again, which right now I doubt I will have. But you never know. Maybe one of these days, things will look different.”
“You're too young to give up all that.” He frowned as he listened to her. She sounded more hopeless now than he did. But she sounded stronger as well. She had grown subtly since he had last seen her. He had heard it when he listened to her talking to Doug from the Red Cross. She wasn't letting him walk all over her anymore. And in a way, she wasn't letting Paul do it either. She had finally begun to set limits. She didn't seem as afraid of losing the people she had once loved, but that was because she had already lost them. Other than her children, whom she would always love, she had nothing to lose now, and in some ways it made her braver.
“I haven't seen anyone out there I want,” India said honestly. Now that they were just friends, she could say things like that to him.
“And what do you want?” He was curious about her answer, and she thought about it for a long time.
“Either peace, and a quiet life by myself,” she said cautiously, “or if I stick my heart out there again, I want it to be for the right guy.”
“How would you describe him?” he asked with seemingly objective interest. As he had long before, he was playing the role of Father Confessor. He liked to do that with her.
“How would I describe him?” she repeated. “I'm not sure I care how he looks, although handsome is nice, but I'd much rather have nice, good, smart, kind, compassionate …but you know what?” She looked him squarely in the eye and decided to be honest with him. “I want him to be crazy about me. I want him to think I'm the best thing in his life, that he is so goddamn lucky to have me, he can hardly see straight. I've always been the one who's done the loving and the giving, and made all the concessions. Maybe it's time to turn the tables, and get some of what I've been giving.”
She had been madly in love with him, and had wanted to give him everything she had, including her kids, and he had been madly in love with Serena. In the final analysis, it hurt to know that. She had lost him to a woman who was gone and would never come back. He had preferred to remain with her memory, than to reach out and love India, and embrace her. “This may sound a little crazy to you,” she said, but not even apologizing for it this time, because she no longer owed him any explanations, nor did she have any expectations of him. “I want a man who would cross heaven and earth because he cared for me …come through a hurricane for me, if he had to. I guess what I'm saying,” she smiled at him then, and looked surprisingly young, and incredibly pretty, “the right guy for me is a man who really loves me. Not halfway. Not maybe. Not second best to someone else, not because he'd made a ‘deal’ with me, like Doug. I just want a man I love with all my heart …and who loves me that much back. And until I find that, I'd just as soon be here, taking pictures in Rwanda, and at home with my kids, by myself. I'm not settling for second best again, I'm not apologizing for anything anymore, I'm not begging,” she said, and Paul knew she didn't just mean Doug, she meant him, because he had told her he didn't really love her. He was pleased to see she still had dreams, although he wondered if she'd ever find them. But at least she knew what they were, and what she wanted. In that sense, she was a lot better off than he was.