“That's a pretty old-fashioned point of view,” she said, smiling. They both realized that it was going to be difficult traveling with Charlie, because of that, for two weeks.
“He's already complaining about the trip.”
“Don't worry. We'll get him on the bandwagon tomorrow. I'll let Paul Black talk to him, he's about as conservative as they get, and even he's excited.”
“Where is he now? I thought you two might be having dinner.”
“Actually, he went to dinner with friends in San Francisco. I was going over the red herring one last time, and some notes for tomorrow.”
“You work too hard. And are you telling me he left you all alone? Have you had dinner?”
“I had room service an hour ago, and I'm fine. Believe me, I brought plenty of work with me.” She always did that. Meredith never went anywhere without her briefcase. Steven always teased her about it.
“What about breakfast tomorrow, Meredith? I thought maybe we should get together before you come to the office.”
“That sounds fine. What about seven thirty here at the hotel? I saw a dining room when we checked in. I'll leave a message for Paul tonight, and we can all meet there tomorrow morning.” She was all business, and anxious to get going, as he was. “Do you want to bring your CFO?” It seemed an appropriate question.
“Actually, I'd like some time with you without him. We can meet him at the office.”
“Fine. I'll see you in the morning then.”
“Don't work all night, Meredith. We'll have time to get it all done tomorrow.” He sounded almost fatherly as he said it. He was still a young man, but some fourteen years older than she was. He was fifty-one years old, and he barely looked older than her husband. Callan Dow was what everyone expected men to look like in California, healthy, energetic, suntanned, and good looking. But her only fascination with him was with his business. Nothing else about him intrigued her.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, and after they hung up, she left a message for Paul on his voice mail and told him about the breakfast meeting in the morning. And after that, she took a shower and went to bed. She tried calling Steven again, but he didn't answer her page, and she assumed correctly that he was too busy with patients. And when he finally did return her call, she was sound asleep and he woke her. It was two o'clock in the morning in California.
“Hi, baby…. Did I wake you?”
“Of course not, Paul and I were just sitting here playing poker.” Her voice was sleepy, but he was too wired to hear it.
“Really?”
“Yeah, sure … you know what a fun guy Paul is.”
“Sorry … I didn't mean to wake you. It's five o'clock here, and I've been in surgery since midnight. I just got your message when I came out.”
“How'd it go?” She yawned sleepily as she asked him.
“We won this one. For once. A drunk driver hit a seven-year-old and gave him a hell of a headache. But he's going to be fine, he's got a couple of broken legs, and his rib cage is a mess, but there's no permanent damage.” One of his ribs had pierced his lung, but Steven had done some fancy footwork, and some very intricate repairs.
“What was he doing out at midnight?”
“Sitting on a hydrant. It's hot here.”
“Did you ever go home?” she asked with another yawn, as she rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock. It was late, but she was glad to hear him.
“Nothing to go home to. I thought I'd just stay here and sleep. I've got to be back here anyway in three hours.”
“You're the only human I know who works harder than I do, Steven Whitman.”
“You taught me everything I know on that score. So how's it going? Did you see your client?”
“Not till breakfast tomorrow morning … or in a few hours, I guess. But I'm ready. I finished all my work on the plane. I spoke to him tonight, and he sounds pretty wound up.” She was awake then, and couldn't help wondering if she'd get back to sleep again before morning. She had too much to think about now that Steve had gotten her going again.
“I guess I should let you get back to sleep. … I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Steve,” she smiled into the darkness, holding the phone, thinking of him. “I'll be back before you know it.”
“Yeah, and I'll be trapped here, like a rat in a cage, as usual. Do you ever think about how crazy our life is?” he inquired, staring into space at his end, thinking about her. They were both so goddamn busy. Sometimes far too much so, but he also knew that she enjoyed what she did, and so did he.
“I was mulling it over today when I left. I was thinking how impossible it would all be to juggle if we had kids. We could never lead the life we do now, Steve. I guess that's why we never had one.”
“We could manage if we had to. Other people do, who're just as busy as we are.” He sounded wistful as he said it.
“Name two,” she said doubtfully, “name one for that matter. I can't think of anyone who lives like we do. You're never home, for days at a time, and I'm always on the road or in the office. What a great life for a kid. We'd have to wear name tags that said ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ so they'd recognize us when they finally saw us.”
“I know, I know … you think we're not ready. I'm just afraid that by the time you think we are, I'll be too old to do it.”
“You'll never be too old to ‘do it.’ “She laughed at him, but she knew he was serious about the subject, far more so than she was. She just wasn't ready to think about having children, and still wasn't sure she ever would be. She couldn't imagine fitting them into their already overburdened existence. And the idea had begun to appeal to her less and less over the years, although she hated to disappoint him. She knew how much having kids meant to him. And she hadn't closed the door on the subject permanently. But it was never something she was aching to do.
“We'll have to have a serious talk about this again one of these days, Merrie.”
“Not until I take Dow Tech public,” she said, sounding surprisingly alert. His talking about their having kids always made her defensive. But there was always some company she was taking public, some IPO that was the most important thing in her life at the moment, some company that needed her help, some deal she had to make, some road show she had to finish. In fourteen years, there had never been a right time for her to think about it, and he was beginning to think there never would be. And he had a real sense of loss when he thought that they might never have children. But he had always wanted children more than she did. He felt the lack of family more than she, she always said that he was all the family she ever needed.
“I'd better let you get some sleep, Merrie, or you'll be dead on your feet tomorrow.” He knew she had a long day ahead of her, and she was taking the red-eye back to New York, and would be landing in New York at six A.M. Tuesday morning. And knowing her, she'd go home, shower and change, and be at her office by eight thirty.
“I'll call you tomorrow when I can,” she promised, stifling a yawn, hoping she'd get a few hours’ sleep before she had to get up at six thirty.
“Don't worry about it. I'll be here. You know where to find me.”
“Thanks for calling,” she said with another yawn. “G'night…. I love you.” They hung up then, and it took her half an hour to get back to sleep, thinking about him, and then her meeting with Callan Dow in the morning. And it seemed like only minutes later when her alarm went off and woke her.
She got up and showered and dressed and did her hair in a neat French twist that seemed appropriate for her meeting. She had brought a dark blue linen suit with her, and she looked impeccable when she appeared in the dining room, in the suit, high heels, and pearl earrings, carrying her briefcase, at precisely seven thirty. And although she was unaware of it herself, she made a stunning impression. She looked more like a model posing as an executive, and several heads turned as she walked swiftly to the table where Paul Black was waiting. He had on a dark gray summer suit, a standard white shirt and conservative tie, and looked just like what he was, an investment banker from Wall Street.