The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,60
and then Bill asked him if he'd ever flown a kite, and Jamie admitted that he hadn't. “You'll have to come fly mine with me sometime,” he said pleasantly. “I have a really great one. It's an old-fashioned box kite I made myself, and it flies really well. We'll take it out to the beach sometime and fly it.”
“I'd like that,” Jamie said with wide eyes and a look of interest.
Rachel and Annie came down to say hi to him then, but Megan never appeared again. She was sulking in her room, and furious with her mother. Peter was out, he'd been picked up by friends since he couldn't drive, and Bill said to say hello to him as they left. Jamie promised to tell Peter when he got back.
“They're great kids,” he said admiringly. “I don't know how you do it.”
“Easy,” she smiled as she got into his comfortable Mercedes, “I just love them a lot.”
“You make it sound a lot easier than it is. I just can't see myself doing that,” he said, as though contemplating a liver transplant, or open-heart surgery. He made it sound painful and difficult, and potentially fatal. Being a parent had always been something of a mystery to him.
“Can't see yourself doing what?” she asked, as he started the car and backed down her driveway.
“Being married and having kids. You make it look so effortless, but I know damn well it isn't. You have to be good at it. It's an art form. It's a lot tougher than practicing medicine, from all I know.”
“You learn it as you go along. They teach you.”
“It's not as simple as that, Liz, and you know it. Most kids act like juvenile delinquents, and wind up on drugs, or something close to it.
You're damn lucky to have five kids like that,” and he included Jamie in the compliment just as she did. He was a terrific kid, and despite his challenges, he only took a little more care and attention than the others. She had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself, or do something dangerous, or get lost.
“I think you've got some funny ideas about kids,” she said as they drove along. “They're not all little hoodlums, you know.”
“No, but a lot of them are, and their mothers are worse,” he said matter-of-factly, and she laughed.
“Should I get out of the car now before you find out the truth about me, or will you trust me through dinner?”
“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “How many marriages do you know that work, really work?” he asked bluntly, sounding like a true cynic, and a confirmed bachelor.
“My marriage worked,” she said simply. “We were very happy for a very long time.”
“Well, most people aren't, and you know it,” he said, trying to convince her.
“No, you're right, most people aren't that happy, but some are.”
“Damn few,” he said, as they reached the restaurant, and she looked at him cautiously once they were seated at their table.
“How did you get such terrible views about marriage, Bill? Was it as bad as all that?”
“Worse. By the time it was over, we hated each other. I haven't seen her since, and wouldn't want to. And she'd probably hang up on me, if I called her. That's how bad it was. And I don't think we were the exception.” It was obvious that he believed what he was saying, although Liz didn't.
“I think you were,” she said calmly.
“If we were, then you'd be out of business.” She laughed at that, and they ordered a mushroom-and-pepperoni pizza with olives on it. It sounded good to both of them, and when it came, it was delicious. They dove into it, and had eaten roughly half when they decided they'd had enough, and the waitress served them coffee.
They had talked about a lot of things, medicine, the law, the years he had spent in New York during his residency, and how much he liked it, and she talked about going to Europe with Jack and loving it, particularly Venice. They touched on a wide variety of subjects, but she was still intrigued by what he'd said about marriage and children. He obviously had very strong opinions on the subject. And she felt sorry for him. He had deprived himself of a way of life she cherished. She wouldn't have given up the years of her marriage for anything, and certainly not her children.