Chapter 11
The silence at La Belle Florence was deafening when Oona got home from the airport, and she had no plans that day.
She had no one to make lunch for, and no one to have dinner with, and there was no one in the pool squealing and having fun.
She sat in a lounge chair and tried to read in the September sunshine, but couldn’t concentrate.
She kept thinking about Ashley, Alana, and Simon on the plane, and hoped they were all right.
They were traveling first class, and Oona knew they would have VIP service to get them through customs and immigration in L.A.
She missed them terribly, but she still felt that she was in the right place and even as much as she had come to love Ashley and opened her heart to him, she had a bond to France and the house now that she wasn’t ready to give up.
She was planning to go home, but she hadn’t chosen a date yet.
He was going to be sequestered while filming the new series, according to the Covid rules, so she couldn’t see him anyway.
He was planning to hire a nanny to be with his children as soon as he got home, and he had to quarantine for ten days, get Covid tested, and report for work at the location where they’d be staying.
He would have to live on the set with the other actors and the crew, being tested regularly.
He would be given occasional breaks every third week, when he could see the kids, and would then have to be tested again afterward.
Oona just hoped that the nanny would be good, and she was sorry not to be with them.
But she had to take care of her own business first.
The Covid numbers had been rising noticeably in France since the end of August.
All the traveling around Europe during the summer and the crowded vacation spots in the south of France, particularly in Saint-Tropez, had taken a toll on the country’s recovery—the virus was slipping rapidly out of control again, and another confinement seemed almost inevitable.
Ashley called her at ten forty-five that night, after they had landed and cleared immigration.
They had needed no test to reenter the United States from Europe, and quarantine was suggested but not mandatory.
The plane had been half full, and with the help of VIP ground crew, Ashley and the children were whisked through the formalities and escorted to the van waiting for them.
He called Oona from the sidewalk before he got in the van, while they were loading the luggage.
Simon and Alana had slept on the long flight and were wide awake once they landed.
They wanted to buy food at one of the airport restaurants and they were surprised to see that they were all closed, and LAX looked like an empty movie set of an airport.
There were hardly any people there.
Many flights had been canceled and most people were afraid of the risks of travel.
There were no tourists.
Ash had thought of Oona for the entire flight, whenever he was awake, which was most of the time.
Covid measures on the plane were strict, and the fourth seat in first class had been empty, so they had all of first class to themselves, which from a health standpoint was reassuring.
Everyone they saw, in the plane and on the ground, wore masks.
Many people took them off once they stepped outside the terminal, but until that point, Ashley had felt relatively safe, and the crew kept reassuring the passengers throughout the flight that the air filter systems were a new design and the air was pure.
Ashley hoped they were right.
He was surprised to see how many people outside the terminal weren’t wearing masks.
In France everyone was wearing them, but there was more of a feeling of freedom in the States.
He hadn’t been back since the pandemic began, and it was strange to see the difference between Europe and the States.
People seemed to follow fewer rules in the United States.
He called Oona from the sidewalk, standing in the California sun, feeling like he had landed on another planet.
He smiled as soon as she answered the phone.
She sounded happy to hear from him.
She was reading in bed when he called and said she missed them.
They talked for a few minutes, and he promised to call her from the house.
On the way home, there were people on the streets but not as many as usual.
The van the studio had arranged for him took him to his home in Bel Air.
It was a sprawling modern house on one level, with rooms for Alana and Simon at the opposite end of the house from the master suite.
There was another bedroom for guests, Ashley’s home office, a gym with state-of-the-art equipment, a kitchen and dining room, an enormous living room with a view of the garden, and a pool.
It didn’t have warmth or charm, but it had everything he needed.
It had been done by a decorator, and the antique treasures he liked to find looked slightly out of place in the stark modern décor.
But they added an eclectic feeling and some personality.
The housekeeper had stocked the fridge with kid-friendly food and salads and fresh produce for him.
There were several fancy catered meals in the freezer along with pizzas, which the kids would like, and everything was immaculate.
The driver set their bags down in their respective rooms, and once he was sure that the kids were okay, Ashley sat down on his bed and called Oona again.
It was almost midnight for her by then, and three o’clock in the afternoon in L.A.
“I feel like I’ve landed in another galaxy,”
he said to her in a warm tone.
“It doesn’t feel like home anymore.
I want to be back at La Belle Florence with you.”
Everything around him looked sterile and unfamiliar, and he felt as though he was seeing it with new eyes.
And it felt to her like he was in another universe too.
Every fiber of his being was crying out for her, and he longed to be back in France, where everything seemed familiar now, and on a more human scale, and real, like Oona.
He knew his life was going to get even more different when he got back to work.
He had to do an obligatory quarantine now for ten days, at his home, get tested, and then report to start filming the series.
“Were the kids okay on the flight?”
Oona asked him, and he closed his eyes, listening to her voice.
She sounded tired but happy to hear from him, and she said she missed him too.
“They were really good.
There are no fancy meals even in first class now—it’s all been restricted because of Covid.
Everything is different now.
And I forget how different everything is from Europe until I get here.
I always feel out of place here, especially now after six months at the chateau and visiting you at your place.
There’s nothing old here, and no charm.”
He said how much he missed her.
“I miss you too,”
Oona said, and he thought she sounded sad.
“It’s not the same without you here.”
She was so used to seeing him all the time now, and the children for the past two months.
Even the dog had seemed unusually quiet all day, stayed close to her, and slept in the sun.
Florence had looked disappointed when Oona came home alone, as though she expected to see Ashley and the children.
“I have to start interviewing nannies for the kids tomorrow, and be in quarantine for the next ten days.
It’ll give me time to study the scripts.”
He was back in his familiar world now, in a life she had never seen and couldn’t even imagine.
It made him seem even farther away as she listened to him.
“I hope you find a nanny they like.”
“They don’t want any nanny.
They want to be with us,”
he said simply.
“But since I have to live on the set part of the time, I need someone staying here with them.”
It was what he had been afraid of when their mother died.
Having them with him in L.A.
while he was working was going to be a hard juggling act he wasn’t prepared for, but he didn’t want to send them to his sister in Trinidad—he had to make it work so they could stay with him.
“I wish you were here,”
he said to Oona.
“It’s going to be lonely in bed tonight.”
It seemed impossible to believe that twenty-four hours ago they had made love in the moonlight at the chateau, and now they were six thousand miles apart, and it felt like it.
He felt like a stranger in his own house.
He had bought it after the divorce, but it had never felt like home to him.
He didn’t even like the art the decorator had picked for him, and wondered if Oona would like it.
He suddenly looked at the place with different eyes, wondering how Oona would feel about it.
He wished now that it was cozier and more inviting.
Everything had hard edges and sharp lines.
He went to check on the kids after he talked to Oona.
They had helped themselves to food from the fridge and looked half asleep at the kitchen table.
He sat with them for a few minutes and then went to check his messages and emails and discovered that there was a mountain of scripts on his desk to study.
He would have plenty to do for the next ten days.
The role he had in the series was demanding, and he needed time to study it.
He was even going to do his own stunt work.
They had taken out additional insurance so he could.
He had to fill out forms to get the kids into school.
They’d need help with the assignments online and with the homework.
Claire had always worked on homework with them, but he didn’t have the time. He would have to explain that to the nanny he hired, along with everything else he had to do the next day.
By the time he went to check on the kids again, they were both sound asleep on their beds in their travel clothes.
He smiled as he looked at them and decided to let them sleep.
Coming to L.A.
was going to be a big adjustment for them.
He went back to his office then, and answered as many emails as he could.
By the time he finished, he was feeling lonely, sad, and overwhelmed.
It was hard coming home, starting a series, and being solely responsible for two children.
He felt like he was about to climb Mount Everest.
When Oona hung up, she lay in bed, thinking about Ashley and missing him.
He seemed so far away now, and he had sounded stressed on the phone, with everything he had to do, and there was very little she could help him with long distance.
He needed someone there in L.A.
It was only a short jump from there to open the floodgates to the inner voices that tormented her, about how ill-prepared she was for his life, how ill-suited to it, and inadequate.
It was all so simple when they were in France, just the four of them.
He wasn’t working, and there were no reporters hounding them, miraculously, since people in the area knew he was there and it wasn’t a secret.
But people had other things to think about for the moment with the pandemic, so Ashley and Oona had gotten a break and could move around like normal people.
Now he was going to be filming what was expected to be one of the biggest shows on TV.
He would be a hot press item, and on social media for a very long time.
How did she think the relationship would survive with a major show and TV stardom? He was younger, he was famous, and she had no idea how to deal with it.
The voices of fear told her that she would fall flat on her face and blow it.
She had nothing to compare it to, and no preparation for his life, and in no time she would be an embarrassment to him.
There were no significant publishing houses in L.A. where she could get a job if she stayed with him, and she would be completely dependent on him to make their life in L.A. work.
By the time she fell asleep, she had totally panicked herself, and convinced herself that she wasn’t up to being the right partner for him, and would embarrass him, due to her age, her look, and the very different life she had led.
She had been an editor and a wife for her entire career, not a movie star’s girlfriend.
She had no idea what to do on the red carpet, and didn’t have the right wardrobe for it, or the looks, she told herself.
And she was sure that the media would be horrified at the eight years between them.
Ashley wasn’t there to reassure her, and tell her it would be fine, and he’d rather be with her than any other woman on the planet.
He meant it each time he said it to her.
But six thousand miles away, in Milly-la-Forêt, she no longer believed him.
The voices of her deeply embedded fears were more convincing.
She wondered if it was a good idea to go to L.A., or if she should end it now before she went through the humiliation of failing when she got there and losing his respect for her.
She fell into a deeply troubled sleep and had nightmares almost immediately.
She and Ashley were on the red carpet at a premiere and reporters and paparazzi were shoving microphones into her face and filming her, when her dress tore away and she was standing naked in front of them, and Ashley told her to leave immediately and said he never wanted to see her again, and a new very young, beautiful girl took her place.
Her dream seemed all too real, and much too likely.
She had a fitful night, while Ashley lay on his bed in L.A.
fantasizing about her, and wishing he were back in France with her.
He hoped she’d come back to the States soon, but he knew she was having trouble leaving France.
She felt safe and comfortable in the beautiful house.
She was afraid of the violence of the virus in the States, and the street violence as well, which was rampant there, along with people not wearing masks and being careless about preventive measures that were commonplace in Europe and had been for months.
She called Gail to talk about it the next day.
“Tell me the truth,”
she said to her old friend.
“How bad is the virus in the States? Some people say it’s nothing and totally manageable.
Others say it’s the end of the world.”
“We’ve all learned to live with it.
If you’re careful, you should be okay.”
“I’m living outside a village smaller than Central Park.
I see only the housekeeper every day, and the gardeners at a distance outdoors.
If I want to see a friend, I can meet her for breakfast, at a respectful, safe distance.
People seem much less careful about the virus in New York.”
“That’s probably true,”
Gail said.
“It varies from city to city and state to state.
Politics got into it somehow, and whether or not you wear a mask depends on what political party you belong to.”
“That makes no sense,”
Oona said.
“No, it doesn’t,”
Gail agreed.
“Why? Are you thinking about coming back?”
Gail asked her.
“Your kids aren’t even here.”
“I need to straighten my life out at some point.
I want to file for divorce.
I have an apartment there, and the country house—I need to figure out what to keep and what we should sell.
I need to find a new job.
And Ashley went back to L.A.
He wants me to come and see them, and I can’t stay in a rented house here forever.
It’s beginning to feel like time to go home, although in some ways it’s more comfortable here, and feels safer Covid-wise.”
“Does Ashley want you to stay in L.A.
with him?”
“Maybe.
Probably.
I don’t see how I’d fit into his life.
He’s a star.
He’s dated half the actresses in Hollywood.
I don’t see myself in that picture.
I need to find a job in New York and figure out what Charles and I are going to do.”
“I thought he did figure it out when he left for Buenos Aires.
That was a pretty big statement.
That was eight months ago.
Are you thinking about trying to salvage your marriage?”
Gail was surprised to hear it, especially with a man like Ashley Rowe pursuing her.
He had a lot more going for him than her husband did.
And he was single and straight and he loved her.
“I don’t know what I’m thinking,”
Oona said.
“Maybe Ashley will get tired of me when the novelty wears off.
He needs someone his own age.
I’m too old and too square for him.
I’m not glamorous.
One of these days, he’ll wake up and see that.”
It was what she was most afraid of, that he’d decide she wasn’t enough for him.
“You bring a lot to the table, Oona.
You have a lot to give someone.
You need to have more faith in yourself.”
“I don’t have faith in anyone anymore,”
Oona said sadly, “least of all in myself and my own judgment.
I didn’t even realize my husband was gay.”
“Neither did he, apparently,”
Gail said tartly.
She wasn’t a fan of Charles Webster.
He hadn’t given Oona a fair shake, and now she had lost faith in herself, even more than in him.
“Just given what I know, and what you’ve told me about Ashley, I think I’d take a chance on him, and get myself to L.A., and give it a shot.
You’re worried about the age difference.
What about the racial issues? Are you worried about that?”
Gail asked her squarely.
“Less than everything else.
He’s an amazing person, but he’s younger and famous, and a movie star.
What am I doing with a guy like that?”
“Why not?”
Gail said confidently.
“Why not you? He’d be lucky to be with you.
And at least he seems to have the brains to know it.
Why not give it a chance? What have you got to lose?”
“A lot, if he dumps me for some thirty-year-old actress, or younger.”
“You love him, and his kids.
Why not trust that and give it a shot?”
Gail made it sound easy, and in Oona’s mind it wasn’t.
To her, it was a trust walk on the high wire without a net under her.
“Only you know if you love him enough to take the chance.
No one ever knows for sure with any relationship.
Some of the best ones don’t make it, and the long shots do sometimes.
You’ll never know unless you try.
But I think you’ll always regret it if you don’t.”
“It was easy in France.
We were in some kind of bubble.
It wasn’t real life here.
We’ll be on real time now if I go to L.A.
in the life of a star.”
Gail hoped for Oona’s sake that she’d be brave enough to do it.
And Gail suspected that being worried about an interracial relationship might be part of it, even if Oona wasn’t aware of it or didn’t admit it to herself.
It was an added element she’d never had to deal with before, and it was bound to raise additional issues she’d never even thought of.
It was one more factor to consider, even if it hadn’t been an issue in France.
The fact that Ashley was world famous gave them a certain amount of leeway.
People would be more likely to accept them because of it in the States.
And they couldn’t please everyone.
Some members of the Black community would criticize him for being with a white woman.
Ashley had already said he didn’t care.
Ashley was going to be busy filming the series at least for the next two months, so Oona didn’t have to make any big decisions immediately, and she had to figure her life out anyway.
He was going to be on hiatus for December and part of January, and by then Gail assumed Oona would be back in New York.
Ashley called Oona every day.
He didn’t pressure her about coming home.
He understood that she was hesitant to leave her cozy nest in France.
It had shielded her from the world for eight months, and once she was back in New York, she would have to face real life again—her empty apartment, her absent kids, no job to go back to, and the divorce she had decided to file.
And he was busy filming the series, and sequestered on the set.
If she had been in L.A.
then, he wouldn’t have been able to see her—he had to begin quarantine for work.
Once he started work, the best he could do was call her every day, twice when he had time, and remind her that he loved her.
So far, the series was off to a great start and going well.
The other actors were major professionals, as he was, some of the biggest in the business, and it was a pleasure working with them. He told Oona how much he was enjoying it, and how much he respected the screenwriter—it was exciting working with the script. But he missed her terribly, and she told him she missed him too. In spite of her worries about the future, her days in France seemed empty once he and the children had left.
After three weeks of aching loneliness after Ashley went to L.A., Oona made the decision that it was time to go back.
The figures of new cases in France and patients in the intensive care units in the hospitals were rising sharply, and a second confinement was inevitable.
The handwriting was on the wall.
It was the second wave scientists had predicted for months, in the States as well, and she decided to leave before it happened.
Without Ashley, there was nothing to keep her in France now.
He was relieved when she decided to leave France.
She would be three thousand miles closer in New York.
She booked a seat on a flight to New York in mid-October, and notified the owners of the house that she would be leaving La Belle Florence, but was sad to leave it nonetheless and hoped she would be back one day.
She had tender memories there now, of Ashley and his children, as well as the months she had spent there before they met.
It had been a real home for her, and a haven of sorts for eight months, while she healed from her losses.
She was deeply grateful to the Hong Kong owners who had allowed her to stay for so long, offering it to her for free for several months of the confinement, and for a very reasonable rent thereafter.
It had been a joy to be there, giving her shelter, comfort, and a safe refuge in the storm.
She sent them a beautiful silver bowl from Hermès, and bought a cashmere shawl for Marie.
She was sad to leave, and treasured the beautiful miniature Ashley had given her of Florence de Montmarrin with her little dog.
She bought a travel bag for her namesake to make the trip.
She warned her housekeeper in New York that she was coming home, let the children know her date of arrival, and sent Charles a brief email.
She didn’t ask about his plans, since he still seemed to be happy in Buenos Aires and had extended his sabbatical until the end of the year.
She wanted to get their situation in order before he returned.
He had said that Roberto would have his visa by then, and they would both be going back to the New York office, so they were obviously still together and doing well.
And he seemed to expect Oona to remain in the status quo, at least until he got back.
He never mentioned a divorce, and she hadn’t yet.
She wanted to speak to her attorney first.
It would be complicated, with the apartment in New York and the house in the Hamptons—they owned both jointly, and she didn’t know if he’d agree to sell—but he had said he wouldn’t oppose a divorce when he left, if that was what she wanted. She hoped he would be reasonable about it, and assumed he would be since he was still with Roberto. She wasn’t looking forward to the legal procedures. It was the end of an era, which had been over for nearly a year. Oona wondered if she would feel freer to move forward with Ashley once she was divorced. In the meantime, she still had moments of anxiety about it, and what the future would look like for them. There was so much they still had to explore, now that he was back at work on a new show. It was expected to be a major hit.
The morning Oona left La Belle Florence, she looked at the gardens for a last time, and at the house that had been her home for eight months.
She knew she would never forget it.
It was a Sunday, so Marie wasn’t there.
They had said a tearful goodbye two days before.
Oona felt like she was leaving home.
And the risk of Covid was high.
She put Florence in her travel bag, and had her travel documents with her.
She closed the door behind her, and got in the van with all her bags.
She had two suitcases filled with the things she had bought at the brocantes , and had sent several cartons to New York.
The airport seemed as empty as it had when Ashley left a month before.
She checked in and waited outside in the fresh air for as long as she could before her flight.
Ashley knew when she was traveling and was worried about her.
She had promised to call as soon as she landed in New York.
She had a window seat, which was curtained off, and there was only one other passenger in first class, at the other side of the aircraft.
The crew made fewer visits to the passengers than they used to, and the meal was carefully wrapped with all the necessary sanitary precautions.
And she kept Florence in her bag for the entire flight.
The dog slept most of the way and Oona did the same.
She had a lump in her throat when the plane took off and they flew over Paris, and she woke up in time to see Long Island come into view.
She had been gone for so long, since she innocently left for France for a month, and it seemed so strange to be coming home.
At Ashley’s request, the airline sent someone to meet her at the plane, after they landed smoothly and taxied down the runway to the gate.
“Welcome home,”
she whispered to Florence, and patted her.
She went through customs and immigration with ease, and left the airport as quickly as she could.
She had hired an SUV to drive her home and filled it with her luggage.
It seemed strange to hear people speaking English all around her—she could manage halfway decent French now.
She walked the dog as soon as she left the terminal and saw that most people, not all, were wearing masks.
She called Ashley as soon as she got in the car.
He was in his trailer studying his lines and waiting for her call, and he answered as soon as he saw her number.
“Are you okay?”
he asked her, and she smiled.
It was good to hear his deep smooth voice with the accent she loved.
It was something familiar to hold on to in what seemed like an unfamiliar world now, and no longer felt like home.
“Did everything go okay at the airport?”
He’d been worried about her all day.
She had gained six hours on the flight—it was only noon in New York, and nine A .
M .
for him in L.A.
She had left Paris in the middle of the night for him, at one-thirty in the morning, and he had lain awake for hours wishing her well, and willing her to be safe.
“It was fine.
There was a line at immigration, but the ground agent helped me.
And they didn’t charge me duty for the things I declared.
I said I’d been in France since the pandemic started, and it was too dangerous to come back.
By the time I got in the car, I wanted to burn the clothes I’m wearing and take a hot shower when I get home.”
She didn’t have time for the shower, and didn’t intend to burn her clothes, just send them to the cleaners.
“That’s what we did too, and everyone was fine.”
“I’ll take a test in a few days, but hopefully I’ll be okay.”
It was something they had to worry about all the time now, which hadn’t been true in her rural life in France.
She had worried more when they went to Paris, and she and Ashley had gotten tested several times.
“How are you?”
she asked him.
“Everything okay on the set?”
There were constant script changes every day, but he was used to it, particularly with a diligent screenwriter.
They had hired one of the best in the business, and he had said the script was a pleasure to work with, as were the actors.
And she knew they Covid-tested the entire cast and crew every few days to protect them.
“It’s going to be strange to be home,”
she said with a sigh.
“It was weird to hear people speaking English at the airport.”
He laughed.
“I felt that way too.”
He was fluent and Oona’s French had improved considerably, she could manage well by then.
They talked for a few minutes, and he said he’d call her later when he got off the set.
She rode the rest of the way into the city, looking through the window at the outskirts of Manhattan sliding by.
It was chilly, but winter hadn’t set in yet.
She opened the window and felt the air on her face, and half an hour later, they reached her building, and the doorman looked surprised to see her, and helped unload the bags.
“You’ve been gone a long time,”
he said, as he loaded the bags into the elevator, and she tipped him generously.
“I’ve been in France since February,” she said.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Webster,”
he said, which surprised her for an instant, as she had been using “Kelly”
since she left, and “Webster”
sounded strange to her now.
She turned the key in the lock when she got to her apartment, opened the door, pushed her suitcases inside, and stepped in.
Bertie, the housekeeper, came from the kitchen to greet her, and burst into tears when she saw her, and she put her mask on as Oona let Florence out of the bag.
She had walked her at the airport and stopped for her before they went into the building.
Florence ran around the apartment, sniffing everywhere.
Bertie looked at her in surprise.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s Florence.”
At the sound of her name, she came running back and wagged her tail at Bertie, who bent to pet her.
“I thought you were never coming back,”
Bertie said, and wiped her eyes.
“And Mr. Webster?”
she asked, and Oona looked serious for a minute.
Bertie knew they’d been separated before Oona left and felt sorry for her.
“He’s still in Argentina,”
Oona said in an even tone.
“Is he coming home soon?”
“I don’t know.
Traveling is hard to plan these days,”
Oona said, and walked down the hall to her bedroom with Florence following close behind her, and Bertie helping with the bags.
And as Oona walked into her bedroom, it hit her like a tidal wave and took her breath away for a minute.
She was home.
She had expected everything to be the same, and to feel the same about it.
But nothing was the same.
Charles was gone, with his new love, and she was alone in the apartment.
He had left a month and a half before she did, but she associated him with the apartment, and it was strange not to see him there, and to know he wasn’t coming home, not to her anyway.
The children’s rooms were tidy and unoccupied, and nothing in her life was the same now.
Charles was gone, she had no job, and the man she loved was another three thousand miles away.
She wanted to try to see Will soon, but nothing had been arranged yet. She took her coat off, intending to send it to the cleaner, and a few minutes later, she went into her bathroom and peeled her clothes off and laid them in a heap to send out too. She didn’t want to take any more risks than she had already taken to get home. And as she stood in the shower it became clear to her again that wherever she was, whether in New York or France, her life as she had known it was forever changed, and would never be the same again.