“No, I won't take him back,” Sarah said sadly. She was sadder about the fool she'd been for so long than about losing him. “I'm finished. I should have been a long time ago. He's a jerk. And a liar and a cheat. All those nice things.”
“He won't let you go that easily,” Jeff predicted.
“Maybe not. But I have. I could never forgive him. It was a disgusting scene. I was about to climb into his bed to surprise him, when I discovered someone else already had. I've never felt so stupid in my life, or been so shocked. I thought I'd have a heart attack when I left. Anyway, it's over, and here I am, back at work on the house. Brave new world. I can hardly wait to move in,” she said, changing the subject, and he nodded. He got the drift. He was curious to see if she would stay away from Phil. She sounded very firm about it now. But it had only been two days since the unhappy event. It sounded awful to him, as it had been.
“When do you think you'll be able to move in?”
“I don't know. What do you think?” The electrical work was starting the following week, the plumbing the week after. There would be crews all over the house for months. They weren't starting on the kitchen till February or March, when the other work was done or at least well under way.
“Maybe April,” he said thoughtfully. “It depends how steadily they stay on it. If they stick with it, you may be able to camp out here in March, if you can stand the dust and the noise.”
“I'd love it.” She smiled at him. “I'm dying to get out of my apartment.” She had outgrown it, especially now that Phil was gone. She wanted to move on. Desperately. It was time.
Jeff hung around for a while and kept her company while she worked. He didn't have time to work on the house himself today, he had things to do. But he felt badly leaving her there alone, particularly after what had just happened. Finally, two hours later, he told her he'd try to come back the next day, and left her hammering on the bookcase. She stayed there till nearly midnight, and then went home to her empty apartment. Her message machine was still off, and so was her cell phone. There was no one she wanted to hear from, no reason to take calls. And as she slipped into her unmade bed that night, she thought of Phil and the woman she'd caught him making love to. She wondered if he was with her, or someone else. She wondered, too, how many women he had cheated on her with, over the years, while he told her he couldn't see her during the week, and only on weekends. It was depressing to realize what a fool she'd been. There was nothing she could do about it now, except make sure he stayed gone forever. She never wanted to lay eyes on him again.
Chapter 15
By the end of January, Sarah was feeling better. She was busy at the office, and working at the house every weekend. Jeff was right. Phil hadn't given up easily. He had called her many times, written to her, sent her roses, and even dropped by unannounced at the house on Scott Street. She had seen him from an upstairs window, and hadn't let him in. She responded to none of his calls or messages, didn't thank him for the roses, and threw away his letters. She had meant what she said. There was nothing to discuss. She was finished. She assumed now that he had probably cheated on her for years. The way he had arranged their lives, he had had every opportunity. And now she knew she couldn't trust him. That was enough for her. She was done. It took him nearly a month to stop calling. And when he did, she knew he had moved on. He had admitted to her once that he had cheated on his wife at the end, but he had blamed it on her, and said that she had driven him to it. Maybe now, Sarah thought, he was blaming it on her.
Stanley's estate was nearly settled. They had already disbursed a considerable amount of the assets to the heirs. She had received her bequest as well, from the liquid portion of his estate. She was doling it out carefully to the contractors Jeff was hiring for her. One of them had put a lien on her house, which he insisted was standard procedure, and she had forced him to remove it. So far the restoration was within her budget, and Jeff was supervising all the subcontractors for her. She was doing a huge amount of work herself, and loving every minute of it. It was incredibly gratifying doing manual work, after all her more cerebral stresses in the office. And she was surprised to find she didn't miss Phil as much as she had feared. Working at the house on weekends helped a lot.
Sarah was pleased to hear from Tom Harrison the last week of January. He said he was coming to San Francisco on business the following week, and invited her to dinner. She offered to show him her progress on the house, and he said he'd be delighted. She made a date to pick him up at his hotel the night he arrived.
The day he came it was pouring rain, which was typical weather at that time of year. But he said it was better than snow in St. Louis. She took him to the house on Scott Street, on the way to dinner, and he was vastly impressed by what she'd accomplished in a short time. She was no longer as aware of her progress herself, since she was there almost every day.
“I'm amazed at what you've done here, Sarah,” he said with a broad smile. “To be honest, I thought you were crazy to buy it. But now I can see why you did. It's going to be a beautiful place when you're finished.” Although enormous, certainly, for her. But she couldn't resist salvaging a piece of history, her own particularly, and a gem like this.
“It was built by my great-grandfather,” she explained to him, and told him the story of Lilli over dinner. She had taken him to a new restaurant that had delicious French and Asian food. They had a lovely time, which didn't surprise her. She had liked him from the first moment they met. He was in town for two days of meetings, and then she remembered her earlier idea. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow?” she asked cautiously. She didn't want him to think that she was putting the make on him, and he smiled when she asked.
“I could be. What did you have in mind?” Everything about him was wholesome, intelligent, and kind. He treated her like a daughter, not a woman he was pursuing, which was comfortable for Sarah.
“I know this probably sounds silly. But I'd like you to meet my mother. I mentioned it when we met, but it wasn't the right time. She's a pain in the neck as a mother, but she's actually a nice woman. I just had the feeling that you might like her, and she might like you.”
“My, my,” he said, laughing at her, but he didn't seem offended. “You sound just like one of my daughters. She keeps fixing me up with the mothers of all her friends. I have to admit, there have been some real lulus, but I guess at my age, you have to be a good sport about it when you find yourself alone.”
She knew he was sixty-three years old, and her mother was sixty-one, and still a good-looking woman. Sarah was happy to hear that he was dating the mothers and not the daughters. Most men his age were more interested in the daughters, or worse yet, girls who were young enough to be their granddaughters. At times, even at thirty-eight she felt over the hill. And there were fewer and fewer takers for women her mother's age. She knew a lot of Audrey's friends had tried computer dating services, sometimes with good results. But otherwise the men in Audrey's age group, for the most part, were dating women Sarah's age. She thought Tom Harrison would be perfect, as long as Audrey didn't get pushy or aggressive and scare him away.
They made a date for lunch the next day at the Ritz-Carlton, and she called her mother as soon as she got home.
“Sarah, I can't.” Audrey sounded embarrassed. She had been amazingly nice to Sarah for the past month, ever since she'd come to see the house on Christmas. It had somehow given them a common interest and a new bond. “I don't even know the man. He's probably interested in dating you, and he's just being polite.”