“Why don’t you go back to painting for a while? You’ve got talent, you’ve just never had the time to develop it. You’re your father’s daughter.”
“I haven’t painted in ten years,” Gwen said, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. But it was something to do while she waited for a strong script to land on her doorstep. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Just do it. That’s the best way to get things done. The only way really.” They chatted for a little while longer, until Gwen could see her mother getting restless and eager to get back to work. “You need to meet a man too. That would keep you amused,” her mother said as they made their way down the stairs, back to the studio.
“I’d rather find a good script. Besides, men don’t like famous women. I haven’t had a real date in two years.”
“The right man won’t care how famous you are. Only weak men are scared off by fame, and you don’t want that anyway. You need a good, normal man, like Federico. He has a very nice nephew in Venice, but he’s too old for you, he’s in his seventies.” She kissed her daughter and put her welder’s mask back in place. She was working on a horse, and the sheer size of it was impressive. There was a ladder next to it so she could do her work. Gwen had long since stopped telling her to be careful. Her mother was ageless and timeless and a miracle of some kind. “Try painting. The rest will happen at the right time,” she said, and Gwen felt encouraged when she left. She had called an Uber and rode back uptown, smiling as she thought about her mother. Gabrielle had told Gwen about a new service she’d discovered to deliver food from the best restaurants in the city. She said that she and Federico had ordered dinner from La Gamine before he left, and it was fabulous. She was always up-to-date on the latest trends, and open to trying new things, more than Gwen was.
When she got back to the apartment, Gwen dug around for her old art supplies. She pulled out an easel and a canvas. Most of the paints were dry and she needed to buy new ones. But she found a sketch pad and some charcoal, and decided to play around with that for now. As usual, her mother was right. Painting and drawing would distract her, and always made her feel peaceful. She sat down with her sketch pad after lunch, and the hours flew by until dinnertime.
* * *
—
Paul found a surprisingly nice furnished apartment that afternoon in a townhouse in the East Seventies, not far from Olivia’s apartment. It had three bedrooms and everything he needed, including linens and kitchen equipment. The owner was in Tuscany for a year on sabbatical, and it was available immediately, in move-in condition. It was just what he needed so he could see his kids on weekends. For himself, he preferred staying at Olivia’s apartment.
He called Eileen to tell her and make plans to see the children. He thought she’d be pleased that he was already organizing to see the kids, but instead they got into an argument about the twins’ schedules. She wanted Pennie to work on her college applications that weekend, and he wanted all three of them to come to the city and stay overnight.
“I don’t want their grades to go down the tubes in honor of your love life,” she said sharply. She’d been angry at him all day, when she thought of him lying to her and sleeping with another woman while he lived with her.
“Do you want me to come and see them out there?”
“No, I don’t. I’m not ready to see you yet. I need to digest what happened. You just moved out two days ago.”
“I thought you’d be happy I found an apartment.” He was disappointed, which was naïve of him. How could she be happy for him? He had left her for another woman.
“So you can continue cheating on me?”
“I’m not cheating now, we’re separated,” he reminded her, “and I told you about her.”
“Five months later, and only because I asked you. You didn’t come clean and volunteer it.”
“Can they at least come for one night?” She grudgingly agreed and then asked him the question that had been gnawing at her all day.
“Should I be calling a lawyer? Are we getting divorced?”
“I haven’t figured out what I’m doing yet. Maybe we’ll get back together at some point,” he said unconvincingly. He didn’t believe that, but he wanted to leave the door open, in case it didn’t work out with Olivia, or he found that he missed Eileen. But he hadn’t so far, and she sounded hostile on the phone. He couldn’t blame her. He was asking a lot of her and he knew it. “I haven’t called a lawyer yet myself. I’m not sure we need one, if we can make visitation work.” Jane had told her that morning that she should call a lawyer, and had given her two names, but it depressed her to think about it. She wasn’t ready to call one yet, or give up hope.
She agreed to send the children to him on Friday after school, on the train, and he promised to send them back on Saturday night. That way they could catch up on homework on Sunday. And the boys wouldn’t miss soccer practice. He felt jangled at the end of the conversation. If they did divorce, he wanted to stay on good terms with Eileen, but that didn’t sound possible at the moment. It was still too fresh, and her emotions were raw. She had a gaping wound in her heart.
He told Olivia about it that night, and said that Eileen had been difficult.
“My mother said it would get messy eventually,” she said quietly, and he looked surprised.
“You talked to her about me? You told her I’m married?”
“Obviously.”
“She must think I’m a real jerk walking out on a wife and three kids.”
“She wasn’t crazy about it, but she’s a reasonable person. When you get divorced, she’ll be fine.” He nodded, and didn’t tell her he hadn’t called a lawyer yet. But he was planning to. He just wasn’t ready for the big steps. The process was harder than he’d thought it would be, even though he was madly in love with Olivia. But he felt sorry for Eileen and his kids. This was a huge change for them, and he was excited about seeing them that weekend. He was going to take them out to dinner on Friday night alone, sleep at his new apartment with them, and he invited Olivia to join them for lunch on Saturday so she could meet them.
“Are you sure about that?” she questioned him with a doubtful look. “You don’t think it’s too soon for them?”
“I’d rather they meet you sooner than later. We can just say we’re friends for now. But that way, they won’t get upset about it, and they’ll see what a nice person you are.”
“I don’t know how great I’ll be with kids. I haven’t been around any. And I’m only ten years older than your daughter. She may not be crazy about that.”