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“Eww,” she said. “PBJ. Grampa always makes it for me.”
“Oh, all right…” I made it sound like an onerous task and then smiled. “PBJ it is.”
Sophie laughed. “Mommy. You’re always joking.”
“What about you, Elaine? PBJ?”
“Yes, please. My favorite.” Elaine winked at Sophie.
Sophie had the summer off from nursery school, and I intended to get as much time with her as possible before we moved. Once we were settled in New York, Sophie would start primary school and would be gone six hours a day. I was planning on taking classes after Christmas if I could get admitted to do finish my MA. I wanted to do a thesis about art. I would do art, but it would never be a career for me. Just a passion. But I could write about the arts, as a journalist.
That was my hope.
I could always work on my paintings. I wanted to write about the art world and how it was changing with new technology. I wanted to write about film and television and the fine arts. Theatre arts. Books. The only thing I didn’t feel qualified for or have an interest in was music, which was strange, given that I married a musician. But like me, Drake’s foray into the art world was part-time. A hobby. Something fulfilling but something that could never be a career.
I hoped to finish my MA and then work for a news outlet or magazine, writing about the art world. With Sophie in school, and with having shared custody of Liam, I felt that now would be the time to finish my MA thesis and start looking for work.
I finished making lunch and together, the three of us sat at the kitchen island and ate our PBJ and cookies, or biscuits, as they called them in the UK.
I had to admit that I’d miss Southampton when we moved back to Manhattan. I loved it here, the weather was marvellous, and I loved being by the sea. But Drake had the chance of getting shared custody of Liam and there was no way I was going to stand in the way of that. Besides, I loved Manhattan. We had a good life there, if you ignored the terrible things that happened to both of us while we’d been there. The whole mess with Lisa Monroe… I didn’t even want to think about it, but luckily, she was in prison for the rest of her life, and we were safe.
The only dark spot on the horizon was the issue of Drake getting hospital privileges somewhere so he could continue doing his ground-breaking robotic surgery. I hoped so, but it had only been a few years since the whole scandal around his BDSM broke and Drake was forced out of NYP and stepped down from the Foundation and the Corporation.
Could he rehabilitate his reputation and find some meaningful work as a neurosurgeon again?
I hoped his work developing new techniques in pediatric neurosurgery would help, but it was hard to know how he would be received on his return.
Maybe no hospital would want him.
Maybe he could only work outside of the USA…
It was horrible for Drake, but he was resigned to being an outcast in Manhattan. But it was Manhattan — or Brooklyn, depending on where Maureen and Chris decided to live — where we would be. I’d keep my fingers crossed for Drake, but I knew that it was probably too soon for him to return and be accepted back into the community that threw him out.
“What should we do now?” Elaine asked as we cleaned up after lunch. Sophie was coloring, humming to herself.
“I think I’ll take Sophie for a walk along the beach. You want to come?”
Elaine sighed and dried her hands on a paper towel. “I should get out and get some fresh air. Ethan’s sleeping right now. Gladys says he’ll probably sleep most of the day for the next few days. As long as she’s here watching over him, I guess I could sneak out for a while.”
I smiled. “You’re very devoted to my father. I really appreciate it, Elaine. I hope you know that.”
She reached over and squeezed my arm. “I love your father more than anything in this world. I honestly can’t imagine life without him.”
I nodded and felt a tightness in my chest at the thought of him dying. “Me, either. When I think of all the years that I was so wrong about him.” I shook my head. “All those lost years…”
“Shhh,” Elaine said. “He understood. You needed to find yourself, who you are, not who you thought he wanted you to be. He realized he was being too controlling. He’s so happy for you, so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I smiled, tears in my eyes, a knot of fear in my gut that my father might die. I had Drake and Sophie, and we had Liam, but still…
To be motherless and fatherless was not something I could or wanted to imagine, despite everything else I had.
I said a little prayer for my father, hoping that he’d pull through and we’d soon be moving back to Manhattan together.
* * *
Later,I went to my office and saw that I had another couple of messages from Drake, which must have arrived while I was busy.
* * *
