44 Charles Street

“Yeah, me too. But I’m willing to try again with you.” He had known her for almost nine months, he liked everything about her. And he’d had almost a year to get comfortable and get to know her, and see her in situations that were real. He loved what he had seen and knew of her, and she was wonderful with his son. He couldn’t ask for more than that. It seemed like a reasonable beginning to him. What they had was based on friendship, not passion, or blind hope. They knew each other well.

“Okay,” she said quietly, feeling as though rockets were going off in her head. She had never expected this to happen between them. Nothing really had happened, but there was a glimmer of it, a possibility, and she wanted to take a chance with him. “What if it doesn’t work? Then you’ll hate me, you’ll get mad and move out, and I’ll never see you or Ian again. That would be terrible, Chris.”

“Yes, it would,” he agreed. “Let’s try not to let that happen. We’ll work it out.” She nodded and he kissed her again, and then he pulled himself away from her and stood up. She walked him to the door of her living room, and he smiled as he walked up the stairs to his own room. Ian was sleeping with the TV on, and Chris had a wild urge to let out a war whoop of glee. He had kissed her! She was a wonderful woman. He trusted her completely. And what better combination than two relationship-phobics who were scared to death? Better yet that they had started as friends.

Chapter 16

ON MONDAY MORNING, the plumber came and fixed the pipe and they drained the kitchen. They were back in business. It had cost Francesca two thousand dollars, which was a stretch for her, but she had no choice.

Marya and Charles-Edouard baby-sat for Ian on Tuesday when Chris took Francesca out to dinner. She had to take Marya into her confidence, otherwise it didn’t make sense.

“Like a date?” Marya looked shocked. She hadn’t picked up even a hint of romance between them, ever, although she loved them both, and could easily see them together. But she had never thought it appealed to either of them and had been sorry it didn’t.

“Yeah. Like a date,” Francesca admitted, looking embarrassed. She felt awkward saying it to anyone. She didn’t even feel like dating material anymore. She had been in neutral for nearly a year. “At least that’s what he said. But don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I going to tell? Page Six of the New York Post?” Marya was laughing at her. Francesca was a wreck.

“I don’t know—Ian, my mother, Charles-Edouard. I don’t want to make this a bigger deal than it is. It’s just dinner.” But it was dinner with Chris, in a restaurant, and he had called it a date. And he had kissed her several times.

“Is it a big deal?” Marya asked her pointedly.

“Maybe … I don’t know … maybe not … maybe it will be. Maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe we’re both too afraid.”

“What if you’re not? What if it works?”

“That’s even scarier,” Francesca said, looking panicked.

“That’s how I felt about Charles-Edouard. It’s a little frightening getting into a relationship, at any age. And the older you are, the more defined your personality and your life, and the harder it is to put the puzzle pieces together.”

“How’s it going with you and him?” Francesca asked her. Marya looked ecstatic, and so did he.

“It’s fantastic. Other than my late husband, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. I’m a very lucky woman to have two great men in one lifetime. It’s probably more than I deserve, but I’m loving it,” she said humbly.

“You deserve it,” Francesca confirmed to her. “Just don’t say that to my mother. But what the hell, she’s had five helpings at the buffet of life, you only had one. You have a right to seconds.” She was happy for her.

“My best advice to you is to just see what comes with Chris. Don’t anticipate, don’t project, don’t expect him to be someone he isn’t, or try to be someone you’re not. Be yourself. And enjoy it.” It was good advice. “And don’t worry about Ian. I’m happy to baby-sit for him anytime. And Charles-Edouard loves him too. When Chris takes you out, sign us up for Ian. We’ll make cookies or something. Have fun,” Marya said to her, as she went upstairs to dress.

For the first time in months, when Francesca sat in the bathtub, she shaved her legs. She didn’t know yet if she’d wear a dress, but whether she did or not, it was a symbolic gesture. “Welcome back to the world,” she said to herself in the tub, and then she laughed out loud.