“That must make it even worse for you. Do you get news of him?”
“As often as he can. He runs a great risk if he says too much. I get most of his letters through the underground.”
“They've been damn good in France.” She nodded, and they walked on in silence for a while. It brought her closer to him to be able to be honest about Armand. He was truly her friend, and she looked at him after a time with a grateful smile. “Thank you for letting me tell you that. There are times when I thought I'd go mad. Everyone thinks—or they did in Washington. …”
“He's not that kind of man.” He could never imagine Armand working sincerely for Pétain, even as little as he knew the man, he knew that. He just hoped that the Germans weren't as smart.
She felt as though she owed him a further explanation now. He'd been decent to her, and she'd never told him then. “That was why—I couldn't, Nick. Not with what he's doing there. He doesn't deserve that.”
“I know. I understood.” His eyes were gentle on hers. “It's all right, Liane. You did the right thing. And I know how hard it was.”
“No, you don't.” She shook her head, and he saw that she was wearing the bracelet he'd given her the night before. It pleased him to see it there, the gold glinting in the winter sunlight.
“It was just as hard for me. I must have picked up the phone to call you a hundred times.”
“So did I.” She smiled and looked at her daughters in the distance. “It seems a long time ago, doesn't it?” Her eyes drifted back to his then and he shook his head.
“No. It seems like yesterday.”
And in a way it did to her too. He hadn't changed, and neither had she, although the world around them had. Almost too much so.
And then he played tag with the girls, and she joined them as they laughed and ran, and at last they went back to the house with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes, and George was pleased to see them, filling the old house with life. It truly felt like Christmas to him now, and to the others too. They invited Nick to stay for Christmas dinner with them, and when he left that night, they were all old friends, and Liane saw him to the door. He stood there for a moment and smiled at her.
“Maybe you're right. Maybe it is different now. I like you even better than I did before. We've both grown up a lot.”
She laughed. “Maybe you have, Nick. I think I've just grown old.”
“Tell that to someone else.” He laughed and waved as he went out to the waiting cab. “Good night, and thanks. Merry Christmas!” he called back as the cab drove off, and Liane went back inside with a happy smile. Too happy, she decided, as she looked in the mirror. But she couldn't change the sparkle in her eyes, from the relief she felt when she went to bed. It had been good to unburden herself to him.
“You're going to start a riot in here if you don't watch out.”
“It's good PR for you. How about lunch? And don't tell me you can't, or you have to do errands for your poor old uncle George, because I won't believe a word of it. How about the Mark Hopkins for lunch, old friend?” She hesitated, but he grabbed her coat and hat and handed them to her. “Come on.” He was impossible to resist.
“Don't you have anything else to do, like fight a war?”
“Not yet. There's still time for lunch, thank God, and George says you never go out. It won't hurt your reputation to eat lunch in broad daylight. We can sit at separate tables if you want.”
“All right, all right. I'm convinced.” She was in a lighthearted mood and so was he; it was almost like the old days on the Normandie, when they'd had their tennis match. They sat at a good table and enjoyed the view. Nick told her funny stories about the men on the base and in his hotel, and for the first time in years she felt alive again. He was easy to be with, funny and smart, and he took her totally by surprise when he asked her what she was doing on New Year's Eve.
“Wait. Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're staying home with Uncle George and the girls.”
“Right!” She grinned. “First prize goes to you.”
“Well, you get the booby prize. Why not let me take you out? I'm safe. And if I misbehave, you can call the MPs and have me removed.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“You mean I have a chance?”
“Not a bit. I just want to know what I'm going to miss.”
“Oh, for chrissake.” He grinned at her. “Come on, Liane. It would do you good. You can't lock yourself up in that house all the time.”
“Yes, I can. And I'm happy there.”
“It's not good for you. How old are you now?” He tried to count back. “Thirty-three?”
“I'm thirty-four.”
“Oh, in that case … I had no idea you were so old. Well, I'm forty now. And I'm old enough to know what's good for you. And I think you should go out.”
“You sound just like Uncle George.” She was unconvinced but amused.
“Now, wait a minute. Forty is one thing, but I'm not that old!”
“Neither is he, in his heart. You know he used to be quite a rake in his day.”
Nick smiled. “I can still see it in his eyes. Now, don't change the subject on me. What about New Year's Eve?”
“First it's lunch, and then it's New Year's Eve. You know, you could be quite a rake too, if you tried. Maybe even if you didn't.”
“It's not my style.” He looked at her seriously. “I meant a quiet evening between two old friends who've had a tough time and understand the rules. We deserve that much. Otherwise, what do I do? Sit in my lousy hotel, and you stay home? We could go to the Fairmont for dinner or something like that.”
“I suppose we could.” She looked at him, but she still wasn't sure. “Would I be safe?” It was a straight question and he looked her in the eye.
“As safe as you want to be. I'll be honest with you, I still love you, I always have since the first time we met, and I probably always will. But I'll never do anything to hurt you. I understand how you feel about Armand, and I respect that. I know what the boundaries are. This isn't the Deauville, or even the Normandie. This is real life.”
She spoke softly as she looked at him. “That was real too.”
He took her hand gently in his. “I know it was. But I always knew what you wanted to do after that, and I respected that. I'm free now, Liane, but you're not, and that's all right. I just enjoy being with you. There was more to us than just—” He didn't know how to say the words and she understood.
“I know that.” She sighed and sat back in her chair with a smile. “It's funny that our paths should cross again, isn't it?”
“I guess you could call it that. I'm glad they did. I never really thought I'd see you again, except if I went to Washington sometime and ran into you on the street. Or maybe in Paris ten years from now, with Armand. …” And then he regretted saying his name, she looked pained again. “Liane, he made a choice, a difficult one, and you've stood by. You can't do more than that. Staying home, holding your breath, killing yourself, won't make it any easier for him. You have to go on with your life.”
“I'm trying to. That's why I took the job with the Red Cross.”
“I figured that. But you have to do more than that.”
“I suppose I do.” He made a lot of sense, and if she went out at all, she'd like it to be with him. He understood. And who knew how long he'd be around? He could be shipped out any day now. “All right, my friend, I would be honored to usher in nineteen forty-two with you.”