Matters Of The Heart

Chapter 6

Finn called her the next morning and invited her to breakfast at the Mercer. She had nothing important to do and was delighted to join him. He was waiting for her in the lobby and looked as handsome as he had in London. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater with jeans, with his dark hair freshly brushed. He looked wide awake when she saw him, and he admitted he had been up for hours, and had walked around the neighborhood at the crack of dawn. He was still on London time.

Hope ordered eggs Benedict, and Finn ordered waffles. He said he missed them when he was in Europe, where they were never quite the same. He said the batter was different and in France they put sugar on them. He poured maple syrup all over them as Hope laughed at him. He had drowned them, but he looked ecstatic when he took a bite.

“What are your plans today?” he asked her over coffee.

“I was going up to the gallery where they’re showing some of my photographs of India. Would you like to come?”

“I’d love it. I want to see the show.”

They took a cab uptown after breakfast, and he was enormously impressed when he saw the work. It was beautifully hung in a large, prestigious gallery, and afterward they walked up Madison Avenue, and then over to Central Park to walk through the still white snow. In the rest of the city, it was melting and turning to slush, but it was still pristine in the park.

He asked her about India, and then they talked about her travels in Tibet and Nepal. They stopped at a bookseller’s cart on their way into the park, and found one of his early books. Hope wanted to buy it and he wouldn’t let her, and said it wasn’t one he loved. They talked about his work then, their agents and careers. He was impressed by all of her museum shows, and she was in awe of his National Book Award. They admired a great deal about each other, and seemed to share a lot of common ground, and as they came out of the park again, he took her for a ride in a horse-drawn carriage, which seemed silly and fun to both of them as they tucked the blanket around them, and giggled like two children.

It was lunchtime by the time the ride was finished, and he took her to lunch at La Grenouille, which was very chic, and they had a delicious meal. Finn liked to eat well, although Hope often skipped meals. And afterward they strolled back downtown on Fifth Avenue, and as she often did, they walked all the way back to SoHo. They were both tired, but had enjoyed spending the day together. He took her back to her apartment, and she invited him to come up, but he said he was going back to the hotel to take a nap.

“Would you like to go to dinner later, or do you have something else to do? I don’t want to take up all your time,” he said thoughtfully, although he had come to New York to do just that.

“I’d love it, if you’re not tired of me,” she said with a small smile. “Do you like Thai food?” He nodded enthusiastically, and she suggested a place she liked in the East Village.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he promised, and kissed the top of her head. She went back to her loft then, and he walked back to his hotel. And although she tried not to, she thought about him for the next several hours. He was thoroughly enjoyable company, interesting to talk to, and suddenly an enormous presence. She had no idea what to make of it, or if she should even try to figure it out.

She was wearing gray slacks and a pink sweater when he came to pick her up. And they had a glass of wine before they went out. He didn’t comment on Mimi’s photographs this time, but he admired some of Hope’s other work. He said he wanted to go to the Museum of Modern Art the next day, to see some of her older work.

“You’re the only photographer I know who’s in museums,” he said with open admiration.

“And you’re the only author I know who’s won the National Book Award, and been knighted,” she said with equal pride. “That reminds me, I never call you ‘Sir Finn.’ Should I?”

“Not unless you want me to laugh at you. I still feel odd myself when I use it. Although it was pretty exciting to meet the queen.”

“I’ll bet it was.” She smiled broadly, and then she took out a box of photographs she had promised to show him, of Tibet. The photographs were amazing, and she pointed out several of her beloved monks.

“I don’t know how you managed not to talk for a month. I couldn’t do it,” he admitted readily. “Probably not even for a day.”

“It was fantastic. It was actually hard to start speaking again when I left. Everything I started to say seemed unimportant and too much. It really makes you think about what you’re saying. They were wonderful to me there. I’d love to go back one day. I promised them I would.”

“I’d love to see it, but not if I have to stop talking. I suppose I could write.”

“I kept a journal while I was there. Not talking gives you time for some fairly deep thoughts.”

“I suppose it would,” he said easily. She asked him then where he had lived when he grew up in New York. “The Upper East Side,” he replied. “The building isn’t there anymore. They tore it down years ago. And the apartment where I lived with Michael was on East Seventy-ninth. It was pretty small. That was before the books really took off. We had some lean years for a while,” he said without embarrassment. “When my parents died, they had pretty much eaten through the family money. They were fairly spoiled. Particularly my mother. The house in Ireland belonged to her family, and since there were no male heirs, they sold it. I’m glad I got it back. It’ll be nice for Michael to have one day, although I doubt he’ll want to live in Ireland, unless he’s a writer.” Finn grinned at the thought and Hope smiled. Ireland was famous for its no-tax policy for writers. She knew a number of them who had moved there. It was irresistible.

They left for the Thai restaurant then, and had an excellent meal. And while they ate dinner, Finn asked her what she was doing on New Year’s Eve.

“Same thing I do every year.” She grinned. “Go to bed at ten o’clock. I hate going out on New Year’s Eve. Everyone is crazy and drunk. It’s a great night to stay home.”

“We have to do better than that this year,” Finn insisted. “I’m not crazy about it either, but you have to try at least. Why don’t we do something ridiculous like go to Times Square and watch the crystal and mirrored ball fall down, or whatever it does. I’ve only seen it on TV, although I imagine the crowd is pretty awful.”

“It might be fun to photograph,” she said thoughtfully.

“Why don’t we try it? If we hate it, we’ll go home.”

She laughed, thinking about it, and agreed.

“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed, looking pleased.

“How long are you here?” she asked, as they finished dinner.

“I haven’t figured that out yet. I might do some work with my editor before I go back.” And then he looked at her carefully. “The rest depends on you.” She felt a tingle of nervousness run down her spine then. She didn’t know what to answer when he said things like that, and he had a few times. Knowing that he had come to New York to see her was an awesome responsibility as well as a gift. She was just finishing dessert when he looked across the table at her, and took her breath away with what he said. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Hope.”

She didn’t want him to have said what he just did, and she had no idea how to respond. Let me know when you figure it out? Don’t be silly? So am I? She didn’t know what she felt for him yet, but she liked him a lot. Of that, she was sure. But as a friend or a man? It was too soon for her to tell. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, reading her mind. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

“How can you know that so soon?” she asked, looking worried. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. She wondered if love happened that way at their age.

“I just do,” he said simply. “I’ve never felt like this before. And I know it’s fast. But maybe it happens that way sometimes, when it’s for real. I think at our age, you know what you want, who you are, and what you feel. You know when you’ve found the right person for you. It doesn’t have to take a long time. We’re grown-ups, we’ve made mistakes before. We’re not innocents anymore.” She didn’t want to tell him that he had a lot more experience than she, but he knew that about her anyway. He could tell. And she had been married for nearly half her life, and single for only the past two years. “You don’t need to feel pressured because I feel that way, Hope,” he went on. “We have a lifetime to figure it out, or as long as you want.” She had to admit, he was sweeping her off her feet. And this was completely different from the time she’d shared with Paul. Finn was wilder, more creative, his whole existence was more free form. Paul had been extremely disciplined in every way, and deeply involved in his work. Finn seemed more engaged in life, and the world. And his was a broader world, which appealed to her a lot. Hers had broadened a great deal too in the past few years. She was open to new people, new places, new ideas, like her monastery in Tibet and the ashram in India, which she would never have thought of going to before she lost Mimi and Paul.

They walked back to her apartment after dinner, and this time he came up for a drink. She was nervous that he would try to kiss her-and she didn’t feel ready to yet-but he didn’t. He was relaxed, but gentlemanly, and respected her boundaries. He could sense too that she wasn’t prepared to deal with more than what they were doing. Walking, talking, going out for meals, getting to know each other. This was why he had come to see her, and exactly what he wanted. And she felt as though no one had been as devoted to her so soon after they met. Paul wasn’t in their early days, he was too busy, and he was sixteen years older, which was very different. She and Finn were almost the same age, of the same generation, and had many of the same interests. If she had made a list of everything she wanted in a man, Finn had it all. But she hadn’t wanted anyone since Paul. And now Finn was here, big as life. And she had only known him for a week. But so far, it had been a very intense week, and they were spending a lot of time together.

They went to the MOMA the next day, and the Whitney Museum the day after. They went to all her favorite restaurants, and his. He met with his agent to talk about a new book deal. And much to her amazement, she missed him for the few hours he was gone. Other than that, he was with her every minute, except when he left her at her loft at night. He still hadn’t kissed her, but he had mentioned again that he was falling in love with her. She had just looked at him with worried eyes. What if he was playing with her? But even more frightening was the thought that maybe he wasn’t. What if this was for real? What would happen? He lived in Ireland, and she in New York. But she wouldn’t let herself think about it yet. It was too soon. It just didn’t make sense. Except even Hope knew that it did. It made a lot of sense, for both of them. She could base herself anywhere in the world, and they knew it. And so could he. It was an ideal situation. They seemed perfectly matched.

Hope didn’t tell Mark Webber, her agent, what was happening when he called. And there was no one else for her to tell. Mark was her closest friend, and she liked his wife as well. They invited her over to have dinner, but she declined. She didn’t want to tell him Finn was in town to see her. She knew Mark would be shocked, or surprised at least, and probably fiercely protective and suspicious. She wanted to spend the evening with Finn. So she said she was too busy with some new work, and Mark promised to call again the following week, and told her not to work too hard.

And on New Year’s Eve, as they had agreed earlier in the week, she and Finn went to Times Square. She took an old camera with her, to take shots in black and white. They got there around eleven, and artfully wended their way through the crowd that had been waiting there for hours. The characters around them were extraordinary, and Finn enjoyed watching it through her eyes. They were having a great time.

At midnight, the ball fell from the top of a flagpole with lights flashing inside it, and everyone screamed and cheered. There were prostitutes and drug dealers, tourists, and college kids from out of town, every form of humanity around them, and she was so busy taking pictures of them at midnight that she was startled when Finn put her camera aside and stood before her, and pulled her into his arms. And before she knew what had happened, he was kissing her, and everything around them was forgotten. All she was aware of and remembered later was Finn kissing her, and feeling totally safe and protected in his arms, wanting the kiss never to end, and as she looked into his eyes afterward in amazement, she knew that she was falling in love with him too. It was the perfect beginning for a new year. And maybe a new life.