When Coco got back to London, Ian was eager to see her. He came over that night, and they made love for hours after Bethanie fell asleep. She was a good sleeper, and slept through most of the night. Coco loved being with her, and in spite of his claims of not liking children, Ian had fun with her too. He spoke to her as though she was a very small adult who did not speak the language but understood every word he was saying to her.
He explained to her all about green tea and chandeliers, French wall sconces, and Chinese art, French cuisine versus pasta, and the value of the metric system. Sometimes she just stared at him, and gave a big belly laugh as though he was ridiculous, or highly amusing. Coco fully expected her to answer him one day with her own monologue.
Ian spent Coco’s twenty-fifth birthday with her, and cooked her a magnificent dinner at his place and served Chateau Margaux with the meal, and Chateau d’Yquem with dessert. They’d left Bethanie with the nanny and gone away for a few romantic weekends, particularly one in Venice, where they went from one church to the next until their heads were reeling. He seemed to know all of them and every detail of their history. She learned more from him than she had in her art history classes at Columbia.
They spent Christmas together since neither of them had anyone else to be with, and in January he disappeared again for two months to do some writing. She concentrated on Bethanie. The business kept her busy too. She knew that Ian would turn up before long, which he did, like the swallows returning in spring. He came and went, but the aura he left behind was so rich that she had no hunger for anyone else when she wasn’t with him. That was what Sam had warned her about. She was so well sated by Ian that she had no need for anyone else in his absence and no one could compare to him. He was unique and brilliant and a fabulous lover, and even three months wasn’t too long to wait for him. She didn’t pine for him. She hibernated, gathering strength and knowledge to share with him when he returned to fill her soul and her mind again.
Sam and Tamar’s son was born in March, two weeks late, and poor Tamar labored for two days. She had complications after the birth, and Sam took care of both of them, and fell in love with the baby boy they named Nathan. His middle name was Isaac, for Sam’s father, according to Jewish tradition, using the name of a deceased family member.
Coco went to Saint Petersburg in Russia with Ian in the spring when he surfaced again, and he had started giving her his manuscripts to read when he returned with the first draft. It was extraordinary sharing the process with him. He valued her opinion, and she was judicious and sparing with the comments she made. He was a masterful writer and it was an honor to read his new work.
Without their noticing it, the time passed, and the years grew like a string of beads. Ian went to New York on business to see his publisher, and she went with him to see Sam, and eventually their second baby, Hannah. And then Ruth was born ten months later. Tamar was still helping him with the business but was too busy most of the time, and she got pregnant with their fourth baby just as quickly, another boy. Sam had changed his father’s business considerably and it wasn’t just an accounting firm now. He was a tax advisor to some hard-hitting clients, frequently referred by estate attorneys who respected him. His mother objected strenuously to any changes he made, and Tamar wasn’t sure of them either, but Sam had started to enjoy what he was doing when it became his business and he could mold it the way he wanted. It was his consolation prize for losing his father.
* * *
—
There was never any question of Coco and Ian becoming an official couple, but they always stayed together when he wasn’t on one of his sabbaticals. He stayed at her house now, with his dog. Bruce lived in the kitchen or in the room Ian used as an office. Ian had had to give his sublet back to the Roman