Aden wasn’t home from Boston yet on the anniversary of his father’s death. It was the first one, and the day got Maggie in its grip and wouldn’t let go from the moment she woke up in the morning. She had barely slept the night before, as images of the crash raced through her mind. She remembered what Brad had said to her when they were about to crash, and his face when she saw him drowning, too far away for them to get to him in time, as the currents had pulled him away from the life raft. She still didn’t know how he had slipped out, but it didn’t matter now. It had happened and they had to live with it.
She spoke to Aden twice that day, and he admitted that he wasn’t doing well either. There was something so powerful and overwhelming about the actual date, as though the loss was different on that day than on others, which in fact it wasn’t. But the date bound them to the anniversary of what had been the worst day of their lives, and it was all she could think of. There were no good memories attached to the day, unlike Brad’s birthday. This was pure hell, remembering what had happened.
Phil Abrams sent her a card, and some of their friends had dropped off small bouquets of flowers. Paul sent her a text message telling her that he was thinking of her, but he didn’t call. It was hard to guess the right thing to do in the circumstances, without intruding on something so personal. It troubled her that she had unwittingly opened the door to Paul again after his racing accident, and she didn’t want to overdo it. He was being careful with her too.
A few days later, Aden came home from school for the holidays. He was staying just through Christmas, and then he was going skiing with friends in Vermont. One of his roommates had a family home there and had invited a mixed group to come skiing with them, and Aden was eager to go. Maggie had said he could, and didn’t expect him to hang around with her all through the holidays, which would have been boring for him.
The first thing they did the day he got home was start setting up the outside lights to decorate the house, as Brad had done so expertly in the past. Maggie pulled out pictures of it, to copy exactly what he used to do. And they came fairly close. She stood on a ladder to help Aden as she had done with Brad. Aden tried to get on the roof, but it was too icy. They did a good job anyway. They even had a lit-up snowman in front of the house, and a Santa Claus, which was their pièce de résistance. It was corny, but Maggie, Aden, and the neighborhood children loved it.
The next day they bought a tree and brought it home and decorated it with their favorite ornaments, including all the ones that Brad had liked. After the barren Christmas they’d had the year before, right after his death, this year was a vast improvement. She had bought Aden all the new ski equipment he wanted, and a racing helmet, which he flatly said he wouldn’t wear.
“Good, then you can forget the trip to Vermont,” she said with an iron look in her eye. “I’m not compromising on that. I know how you ski. I’m not having you get brain damage because you don’t think it’s cool to wear one. There are resorts in Europe where it’s required, I’ve been told. People can die from not wearing helmets.”
“They can die from slipping in the bathtub too,” he pointed out angrily. “Do you want to forbid me to take a bath? Dad didn’t wear a helmet when I skied with him.”
“No, and he didn’t ski like you. He was a very cautious skier, and hardly ever went, except to make you happy. He didn’t go nuts like you when you hit the slopes.” Aden had entered junior downhill ski races for a few years, and was an expert skier. He loved to ski as fast as he could. “It’s up to you,” she said adamantly. “No helmet, no Vermont. And don’t lie to me and tell me you’ll wear it, and then don’t. I need to be able to trust you on this or you’re not going.”
He finally gave in the night before he was supposed to leave. They’d had a lovely holiday other than that one argument. Even without Brad, their Christmas had been warm and cozy. Aden had gone skating several times with friends at a nearby pond where they skated every year when it froze over. He’d gone caroling, visited his old coach, Buck, and told him all about the hockey team at BU. He’d gone out twice with a girl he knew from high school who was in college in Boston too, and he had dated a few times there. And he had reveled in being at home in his room, in familiar surroundings with all his belongings. It felt good to be home, and Maggie had stocked up on all the foods he liked to eat. It had been a perfect Christmas vacation and he held his mother tight the morning he left to fly to Boston. He would drive up to Vermont with his friends the next day. He thanked her again, and hung out of the car and waved as he left, driven to the airport in Chicago by a friend’s father. The roads were icy, and Maggie didn’t like driving in those conditions, so Aden had hitched a ride with them. She stood in front of the house as long as she could see him, and then she went inside, grateful for the holiday with him, and sad to see him leave. He wasn’t coming home again until spring break in March.
She’d had a text message from Paul on Christmas, wishing her a Merry Christmas and telling her that he was on the boat in Antigua, enjoying the comforts of the Lady Luck, and feeling better after the accident a month before. He said everything was healing well, and his ribs hardly hurt at all. He could even laugh now, which had been excruciating before.
She was putting some things away in Aden’s room that night when Paul called her and said he just wanted to check on how she was, since she had mentioned in her text response to his that Aden was going skiing. He had fully understood how much her son meant to her and how hard it was for her now that he was away.
It was nice hearing his voice. They had exchanged texts after his accident and on Christmas, but she hadn’t heard his voice since she called him in Barcelona, after seeing him in flames on TV.
“What are you doing for New Year’s?” he asked her, trying to sound casual, and she laughed.
“Going to bed with a good book. Brad and I never went out on New Year’s. It’s too scary on the roads that night. Are you still going skiing in Courchevel pretty soon?”
He laughed. “Not with six broken ribs. They’re better, but not totally healed yet. I don’t think I can ski for another month or two. I’m going to stay on the boat and relax. I don’t have anything scheduled for the moment.” And then he decided to leap in and see if his luck with her had improved. She sounded relaxed after the nice holiday with her son, and like she was in a good mood, now that Brad’s anniversary date was behind her. He was hoping it might make a difference, but not sure it would. Maggie could be stubborn when she wanted to be. Once she had a point of view, or an opinion, she stuck to it, even at seventeen.
“What do you think about coming down to the boat for a few days, or a week or two, or as long as you like, just to relax and float around and get waited on?” He tried to make it sound as appealing and nonthreatening as he could. “Separate cabins of course. Just two old friends who enjoy each other’s company. Besides, I’m not dangerous. I’m all taped up, and I can still barely move. You can push me overboard if I misbehave.”
“I trust you,” she said simply. He had never forced her before, and wouldn’t now. She didn’t trust herself quite as much, but she thought they understood each other. She didn’t want a relationship with him, but they had a good time together, and they were both alone. She was well aware that it would be depressing now with Aden gone and the house empty. She had meant to sign up for some art history classes at the Museum of Contemporary Art, but hadn’t done it yet. Floating around on the boat with him sounded immensely appealing, and she was feeling mellow about it. Being at home without Aden now was going to be hard.
“I’d invite you to bring Aden, but you said he’s going skiing.”
“Yeah, he left today. He’ll be in Vermont till school starts in three weeks. Although if he knew you were inviting him, he’d probably ditch them and run. He’s dying to meet you.”
“I’d like to meet him too,” Paul said, and had said it to her before. He knew how much Aden meant to her. He was her entire life now, and had been half of it before. “So what do you think?”
“Can I sleep on it?” She didn’t want to do something impulsive and regret it later, and he had been careful to keep his distance and respect her boundaries since she’d seen him in London. She thought she could trust him on the boat, and it would be a lot nicer spending New Year’s on a yacht in the Caribbean than in Lake Forest alone, shoveling out her driveway so she could go to the store.
She thought about it that night, and the offer was so tempting, it was hard to resist. Maybe they really could be friends. She hated to lose sight of him completely because she didn’t want to date him. He seemed willing to accept the ground rules, and it was nice of him to offer. She called him the next morning and accepted, and he sounded delighted.
“How soon can you come?” he asked, sounding like a boy. “I can send the plane for you tonight, if you can come that soon.”
“How about tomorrow? I’ve got some loose ends here.”
“Perfect. Why don’t you plan to be at O’Hare at ten? I can arrange a car for you if you want,” he offered, and she smiled.
“I can manage that myself, but thank you. If I hang around you long enough, I’ll become totally spoiled and helpless.”
“I don’t think there’s any risk of that.” He laughed. “You wouldn’t let that happen.”
“I’d try not to.” She didn’t want to depend on anyone. It was hard enough getting used to Brad being gone. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t transfer that dependence to anyone else. She wanted to stand on her own two feet, and Paul respected her for it. She had always been a plucky girl, and had grown up to be a brave woman. She had proven it in the last year, since her husband’s death.
She thought about his invitation again that night, questioning if she’d done the right thing, but she trusted him and they liked talking to each other. If it turned out to be a mistake, she’d come home. And Paul was seriously hampered now with six broken ribs. What harm could come of it? She sent both Helen and Aden a text, telling them that she was leaving for a few days, and they could reach her on her cell. They didn’t need to know who she was with, or where, and she didn’t tell them.
The plane was waiting for her at ten a.m. the next day at O’Hare as promised. She had already traveled on it from Nice to London, so, although she was grateful for the luxurious treat, she wasn’t startled by it this time. The captain and both flight attendants, one male, one female, greeted her politely when she came on board.
They had long-range capabilities, so they flew directly to Antigua. The purser from the Lady Luck was waiting for her at the airport in Antigua with a van. They whisked her through customs, and she arrived on the boat shortly after, looking happy and relaxed in jeans and sneakers. The more she thought of it, the more she decided that this had been a great idea, and a generous invitation. Paul beamed when he saw her. He moved stiffly but came forward rapidly to hug her when he saw her arrive, and the deckhands took her bags to the spacious cabin Paul had chosen for her. He wanted it to be a perfect trip for her and it promised to be. They had no special plans, they were just going to float around the islands and go ashore when they wanted to. She’d brought a stack of books to read, since she hadn’t decided yet how long to stay. She had no pressing reason to go back, other than the museum classes she wanted to take, but being on the boat was much more appealing than a dry museum class in Chicago.
The chef had prepared a plate of perfect tea sandwiches and iced tea for her as a snack. Being on the boat was luxurious and comfortable, and Paul loved being able to share it with her. It was the only gift he could think of to give her, to make her life more pleasant.
They sat talking until nearly dinnertime, and then went to their cabins to put on sweaters, since it got chilly at night. He observed no formalities there unless he had special guests, where it was required. With Maggie, he could relax, which he preferred.
They had a beautifully prepared dinner of delicate sole meunière and local seafood. They were at anchor off Antigua, which he liked better than being crowded in port with all the other boats, passersby, gawkers, and noise. Slightly off the coast, it was silent and peaceful. They sat for a long time after dinner talking some more, and then played liar’s dice for half an hour before they went to bed in their separate cabins. He didn’t make an issue of her sleeping in her own cabin, or try to seduce her. He just seemed happy to be with her, and didn’t ask for more than that. As soon as she got to her bed that night, she was out cold, and slept until ten a.m. the next day.
When she came up on deck in the morning, Paul was reading the newspapers the crew had brought from shore for him, the sun was bright, and there was a gentle breeze so it wasn’t too hot.
“My God, this is paradise,” she said, smiling at him. “I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve this, but thank you for having me.”
He could see how grateful she was. And he was being careful not to romance her. He didn’t want to scare her off. He was following her rules and respecting her boundaries.
They set sail a little while later, and sailed all day, before stopping near one of the small islands later that afternoon. They got off the boat and swam then, one of the tenders took them to the nearest beach, which was utterly deserted, with fine snow-white sand. Afterwards, they went back to the boat. Paul went to get a massage, and Maggie curled up with a book.
Each day seemed more relaxing than the previous one. They sailed around the local islands, anchored in port occasionally for a brief time to get supplies. And then they left the port and sailed again. The big sailboat handled smoothly and sometimes Maggie sat next to Paul at the wheel when he sailed it himself.
Their meals were exquisite and delicious. The crew were well trained and discreet, and Paul was wonderful company, and despite his broken ribs, he made her laugh with funny stories. He had become the perfect friend. She tried to make herself forget that she had ever been in love with him, and that they had kissed in London. She still felt the same attraction to him, but wouldn’t allow herself to respond or act on it. She wanted to keep their relationship chaste, which seemed simpler to her. She did not want to be the girlfriend of a race car driver with all the terror that would entail, worrying about him before and during every race, and panicked that he’d get injured or worse. As friends, she told herself, she could maintain a safe distance, but almost imperceptibly, day by day, they got closer and more at ease with each other. They had been in love as kids, and now they were totally comfortable companions as adults.
When Maggie texted Helen that she was going on a brief vacation after Christmas, Helen instantly had a suspicion that Maggie was with Paul. She didn’t want to ask her and break the spell of whatever she was doing, or intrude. She waited to hear from her. And Aden was having too much fun with his friends to worry about where his mother was, or to ask. He knew how to reach her if he needed to. He thought maybe she had gone to a spa, which she had never done before, or that she was in New York.
On the day of New Year’s Eve, they motored into port at Saint Barth’s, spent a few hours there and then anchored just offshore, outside the port. Some of the biggest and most luxurious boats were there. They were mostly owned by Russians, who seemed to have cornered the market on huge boats. Even the Lady Luck seemed modest by comparison, although she could hold her own among the finest yachts, and she was very big for a sailboat.
“We’ll be able to see the fireworks from here tonight,” Paul told her.
She wore a simple white knit dress and silver sandals, and he wore white jeans and a navy blue blazer. She liked the fact that they were casual on his boat, and they were sailing just the two of them, without fanfare, formalities, or friends. She was completely relaxed with him, and he seemed equally so with her. Sometimes they sat and held hands as they watched the sun set, but she felt no pressure to do anything more with him. He had understood what she wanted and was willing to share with him. A deep loving friendship, enriched by their long history, but nothing more. It was the only way she could make her peace with his dangerous pursuits. She knew that if she slept with him, or became his woman, she would be crazed every time he raced, and terrified he’d die. This way it was his own affair. She would worry anyway, but she had no claim on him, and he had none on her. She thought it was the only way it might work.
At the end of the vacation, she would go home and pursue her own life and do as she wished. She didn’t want him to die as a friend either, but there was no tempering what Paul did, or taming him. He was willing to live through broken ribs, or burns, or more severe injuries to do what he wanted, and she had to let him, and hope for the best for him. But she couldn’t pin her future on him, or even count on his staying alive, given how he wanted to live.
Seeing him race in Barcelona had been frightening, especially when his car caught fire, and he emerged from the wreckage ablaze himself. She hadn’t discussed it with him, and didn’t intend to, but she knew he was still in pain from his injuries, although he was a good sport about them and never complained. He accepted them as part of his job, the way other people accepted late hours or demanding working conditions. He was willing to get injured and risk his life. In fact, he loved it. It was some sort of badge of courage he wore with pride. When she saw his body taped from shoulders to hips when they went swimming, she winced realizing the pain it must have caused him. And one hand was still bright pink from where he’d been burned. As a friend, she was trying to accept him as he was.
He was still hoping to ski in Courchevel next month and wanted her to go with him, but so far she hadn’t changed her mind. She had two months to do whatever she wanted, before Aden came home for spring break in March. She still missed him terribly, but in exchange, she had enormous freedom. It would have been different if Brad was alive, she would have been with him. But now, Paul was helping her fill the time in the most agreeable and luxurious ways possible, more than she could ever have imagined. They were satisfying each other’s needs for companionship, without altering each other’s lives. It seemed ideal to her.
They drank champagne and ate caviar on New Year’s Eve, and then lobster, and baked Alaska for dessert.
He smiled at Maggie as they finished dessert and he poured more champagne. “You know, I enjoy my life, but I never forget how poor I was. It keeps me humble. And if I ever lose it all, I’ll make it again.”
“By risking your life the way you have for all these years?” she said with a cynical look. “That’s a high price to pay. You’ve earned all this with blood money. Your blood. Like in Barcelona. I hate to see you doing that.” But she knew she couldn’t stop him and didn’t try. His dangerous pursuits were part of him. Although he didn’t look it, he was still wild.
They sat in the comfortable chairs on deck and he put a blanket around her as they watched the fireworks. He glanced at his watch just before midnight. “It’s almost here,” he said with a smile, “a new year. I hope it’s a good one for you, Maggie. I hope you get everything you want. You deserve it.”
“You too.” She smiled at him, and she wished him to stay alive for a long time, but didn’t say it.
Two minutes later, on the stroke of midnight, with silvery fireworks exploding in showers of what looked like diamonds above them, he kissed her as he had in London, and this time she didn’t stop him. It was too comfortable and too tender being with him to keep resisting their feelings for each other. And she didn’t feel guilty about Brad now, which made a difference. She was here, in the moment, with Paul, and it felt right being together, however long it lasted, or didn’t. They didn’t want anything from each other, except to share this time. They weren’t hurting anybody. And if the risks he took became too much for her, she knew she would leave him, and he knew it too. It was the unspoken agreement between them. She had made her peace with who he was, and thought she could live with it.
She kissed him then, and they stayed on deck for a long time, nestled under the blanket, until the fireworks stopped, and their kisses continued.
“Happy new year, Maggie,” he whispered to her. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Please try to stay alive for me this year. It’s all I want from you,” she whispered. And then she quietly followed him down to his cabin, where they celebrated a new year, and a new chapter of their lives together. For now, it felt like the right one.