Dinner arrived promptly at nine o'clock, and everyone was hungry by then. He had ordered it from the best Japanese restaurant in the city, and it was prepared in front of them, with all kinds of flourishes and exotic touches, and a chef who flamed everything, chopped up the shrimp and flipped it in the air and caught it in his pocket. The kids loved it. Everything Blake did or organized was spectacular and different. Even Sam was looking relaxed and happy by the time she left. It was nearly midnight by then, and the kids were watching a movie in the projection room. She knew they'd be up till two or three A.M. It wouldn't do them any harm, she didn't begrudge them a minute of their time with him. They could sleep when they came home to her.
“When are you leaving?” she asked him as she put her coat on, afraid that he would say “tomorrow,” which she knew would upset the kids. They wanted at least a few days with him, particularly not knowing when they would see him again, although Christmas was coming, and he usually managed to spend some time with them during the holidays.
“Not till Sunday,” he said, and noticed the look of relief on her face.
“That's good,” she said softly. “They hate it when you leave.”
“Me too,” he said almost sadly. “If it's okay with you, I want to take them to Aspen after Christmas. I don't have any firm plans yet, but it's a nice time to be there, over New Year's.”
“They'll love it.” She smiled at him. She always missed them when they went away with him, but she wanted them to have a father, and it wasn't easy to manage with him. You had to catch him when he was willing, and able to make plans with them.
“Do you want to have dinner with us tomorrow night?” he offered, as he walked her to the elevator. He still enjoyed spending time with her, he always had. He would have stayed married to her forever. It was Maxine who had wanted out, and he didn't blame her. And he'd had a good time since then. But he loved still having her in his life, and was glad she had never shut him out. He wondered if that would change when she found a serious man, and he never doubted that she would one day. He was surprised it had taken this long.
“I might,” she said, looking relaxed. “See how it goes with the kids. I don't want to intrude.” They needed time alone with their father, and she didn't want to interfere with them.
“We love having you along,” he assured her, and then hugged her goodbye.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said as she got on the elevator, and waved at him as the doors closed. The elevator shot down fifty floors, and her ears popped as she stood there thinking about him. It was strange. Nothing had changed. She still loved him. She always had. She had never stopped loving him. She just didn't want to be with him anymore. It didn't even bother her that he went out with girls in their twenties. It was hard to define their relationship. But whatever it was, and however strange, it worked for both of them.
The doorman hailed her a cab as she came out of the building. As she rode uptown to her own apartment, she thought about what a nice day it had been. It was strange to find it silent and dark when she walked in. She turned on the lights, walked into her bedroom, and thought of Blake and her children in his insanely luxurious apartment. The one she lived in looked better to her than ever. There was no part of his life that she still wanted. She had no need for that kind of excess and self-indulgence. She was happy for him, but what she had was all she wanted.
For the thousandth time since she left him, she knew she had made the right decision. Blake Williams was every woman's dream, but no longer hers.
“Dr. Williams,” she said briskly, to mask the fact that she'd been sound asleep, although who would have expected her to be otherwise at four A.M.?
“Maxine, I'm sorry to call you at this hour.” It was Thelma Washington, the doctor on call for her over the Thanksgiving holiday and weekend. “I'm at New York Hospital with the Andersons. I thought you'd want me to call. Hilary overdosed last night. They found her at two A.M.” She was a bipolar fifteen-year-old with a heroin problem, who had attempted suicide four times in the past two years. Maxine was instantly awake. “We got her in as fast as we could. The paramedics administered naloxone, but it's not looking good.”
“Shit. I'll be right in.” Maxine was already standing up as she said the words.