The Klone and I (18 page)

I called Peter and told him, and he just
groaned, and then whimpered pitifully when I told him what it would cost him to repair it.

“Just don't let him repaint it again,” was all Peter said before he hung up.

“How was he?” Paul asked, looking worried, when I told him what Peter had said about the Jaguar.

“Cranky,” I explained, but I was worried about Paul. After his little dip in the East River, he was catching a terrible cold. “He'll be all right,” I said gently. And then I told him the bad news. “He's coming back tomorrow.”

“So soon? That's two days early.” Paul looked crushed. He'd been planning to spend the rest of the week with me, before Peter got back from California.

“He says he has a board meeting he has to be at.” But I suspected it was more than that, and not just the car either, I had the feeling that he didn't want Paul staying with me anymore. And I could see Paul was upset about it.

We spent a quiet night that night, I wrapped him in blankets for his cold, and served him hot toddies, and every time I kissed him he sneezed, and his nose was red. But as sick as he was about to be, I knew the Jaguar looked much worse. And then, as I climbed into bed with him, he turned to me with an unusually serious air. He looked as
though he had a lot on his mind, and he seemed uncharacteristically unhappy.

“What would happen if I stayed here?” he asked, looking worried, and I smiled. Maybe he had hit his head in the Jaguar.

“I seem to recall that you are, or have you forgotten?” I kissed him gently and he set down his glass on the table next to the bed, and then looked at me with concern.

“I mean after Peter gets back. What would happen if we told him I'm staying, and I'm not going back to the shop?” It was the first time he had ever said anything like that.

“Could you do that? Would they let you?” Just looking at the tenderness in his eyes, I was stunned, and a little worried.

“I could try. I can't leave you, Steph. I belong here. I love you … we're happy together. You need me.” I did, more than I had ever planned to, maybe even more than I could admit, but the truth was that I needed Peter too, far more than I loved or needed Paul. I had gotten caught up in the good times we had again, but in the last few days, I had thought a lot about Peter coming home. Peter was the one embedded deep in my heart. Paul was the fun, the life, the spirit, the laughter. But Peter owned a piece of my soul. I had just come to understand that lately. I needed more in my life than a quadruple flip, and a good
time. I needed Peter's solidity, his strength, his quieter style to shore me up and feed the parts of me that Roger had starved for so long, possibly forever.

“I don't know what to say,” I said honestly as we lay there. “I love you, Paul.” And then I realized I had to be honest with him. “But maybe not enough. We'd have a lot to overcome. It's not easy being with a Klone. We'd be shunned by society if people ever found out. It could get very rough.” It was true, and we both knew it. I had thought about it a lot. And it wasn't that his offer wasn't tempting. There was no doubt about it, it was. But with Peter, if he'd ever let me, I could have a real life. With Paul, I knew I couldn't.

I'd marry you, Steph,” he said in a gentle whisper, and just hearing those words meant a lot. “He won't.” I sensed as Paul did that Peter had gotten too used to being on his own. Although I knew he loved me, his fear of commitment was in fact more powerful than his love.

“I know,” I said quietly. “But I love him anyway. I'm not even sure that matters to me anymore. I've been there, I've done that. I was married to Roger, and it all went wrong anyway. Marriage isn't a guarantee,” I said wisely, I knew whereof I spoke, better than Paul, “all it is is a promise, an act of faith, a symbol of hope.” That was a lot, I had to admit, but I also knew it wasn't
a fair trade. There was always one who loved, and one who walked, sooner or later.

“It's what you want. You'll never get that from him. If he had to make a choice, he'd rather have you marry me. Do you think if he really loved you, he'd put up with me staying here every time he goes away, massaging you, and loving you, and taking you out to parties and dinners, and teaching you the double flip? Or even the quadruple?”

“Maybe not,” I said sadly. “But that doesn't change how I feel about him.”

“You were a fool once with Roger. Don't be a fool twice.” He was begging me and I couldn't bear to look at him.

“It could be too late for that,” I admitted. “I already am a fool about him.”

“We could have a great life, Steph, if you were willing to try it.” But the truth was, I wasn't. Much as I loved him, I couldn't entrust my life to a Klone, not entirely, no matter how alluring he was, or how much fun. There was still a lot he was not. I couldn't spend the rest of my life with a man who played charades and enacted the word
fart
at a dinner party. “You're missing the opportunity of a lifetime, Steph. You'd be the envy of all your friends.”

“I already am,” I said gently. “You're the best,” and then I sighed, and decided to tell him the truth. “I think I'm going to leave him, Paul,”
I said sadly, tears already filling my eyes, and as he saw them, Paul looked shocked. He handed me a Kleenex and blew his nose too. He cried easily, which I knew was only a flaw in one of his wires, but it still touched me.

“When?” he asked.

“Soon. Probably after the holidays.” I had been thinking of it for days but I hadn't wanted to say anything to him. I thought I should tell Peter first. It seemed only fair. But it had implications for Paul too. It meant he wouldn't be coming back to see me anymore. How could he? If I gave up Peter, I would inevitably lose Paul. It was a rough decision to make, and I hadn't entirely made up my mind yet. But I knew I was much too in love with Peter, and far too entranced with Paul. They were both somewhat addictive, particularly in tandem. But the situation was just too insane. I couldn't go on sleeping with both of them. And as much as I loved Peter, I knew it was wrong. I couldn't go on being with him, and then living with Paul every time he left. Even if they had no qualms about it, I did. And I had my children to think of too. It had gotten too crazy this time. I was just too confused.

“Steph, are you sure?”

“Of course not,” I said, as fresh tears rolled down my face. “How can I leave him? He's wonderful,
and I love him so much.” More than I could ever say. But what was the point of going on like this? I couldn't face the future watching him come and go, driving myself crazy over what could never be, and then consoling myself with Paul. Even if he didn't understand how wrong it was, I did. After all, although I wouldn't have said it to him quite so bluntly, he was only a Klone. And Peter was only a man. And this whole harebrained scheme had been his idea. It obviously suited him, and took a lot of the pressure off for him. He could be with me while he was in New York, whenever he wanted, and whenever he wanted to get away, there was always Paul. It was the perfect arrangement for him. It would have almost been easier to live with his trips to California, no matter how frequent they were, and be alone with my kids.

“Don't do anything hasty, Steph,” Paul urged me as we both started getting sleepy. “If you give him up, you lose me too.”

“I know.” It was a sobering thought, and I still had more thinking to do about it.

We tried the quadruple that night, after I stopped crying, and it went pretty well, although afterward I wondered if I might have cracked one of my ribs. I didn't want to upset Paul, so I didn't tell him, but as I lay in bed next to him afterward,
thinking, he took my left hand and I felt him slip a ring on my finger.

“What are you doing?” I asked, looking worried, but he couldn't see the look on my face in the dark. I was hoping it was something he had found in a Cracker Jack box somewhere, but knowing him, that seemed unlikely. I finally couldn't stand the suspense anymore, turned on the light, and looked.

I gasped when I saw it. It was the most exquisite ruby ring I had ever seen, nearly forty carats, in the shape of a heart.

“Paul, you can't do this … I won't let you … this time it really is too much.” And I honestly meant it.

“It's all right, Steph,” he said, smiling. “I charged it to him.” I was sure he had, but even so, it was an incredible gift, and a spectacular ring. But I wondered what the implications of it were, and I looked at him with a question in my eyes. But Paul smiled at me and shook his head. “It's not an engagement ring. It's a Christmas present … to remember me by.” There were tears in his eyes as he said the words, and in mine as I kissed him.

“I love you, Paul,” I said, and meant it. For that moment in time, I didn't give a damn if he was only a Klone. He was the kindest, funniest,
sweetest, sexiest man I had ever known. Maybe even more than Peter.

“I love you too, Steph. I want you to take care of yourself while I'm gone. Don't let him drive you crazy … or break your heart. He will if you're not careful.” He already had in a way, but I didn't want to face it.

“He does anyway, drive me crazy, I mean. And so do you.” But the rewards he gave me almost made it worth it, I thought as I looked down at the enormous ruby heart. ‘That's the trouble with all this,” I said, thinking out loud, as he looked at me.

“What? The jewelry?”

“No, the fact that you both drive me crazy. Or maybe I already was. Maybe that's why he picked me. I guess he knew what he was doing in Paris.” But Paul knew, without even saying it to me, that Peter knew a lot of things. He was a smart man. The only thing he didn't know was if he really loved me. If he did, why would he want to share me with a Klone? There was more than just convenience involved, or the desire to show off an invention that was unique. I wondered if he wanted to get rid of me after all, if he
wanted
me to marry Paul. But whatever his intentions, or his twisted theories, I knew that I loved Peter, and only to a lesser degree, Paul.

And musing over all of it for the hundred millionth
time, I put my arms around Paul with the ruby ring still on my finger, and fell asleep, but it was Peter I dreamed about all night as I slept fitfully till morning, not Paul, which told me something.

Chapter Ten

Given everything we'd said to each other the night before, it was very emotional for both of us when Paul left this time. There was no longer the absolute certainty that he would return. I couldn't promise him anything, and he knew it.

“In a few hours, I'll have my head off again, and all my wires hanging out, and you'll be back with him,” he said, looking mournful. “I hate to think about it,” and then he looked at me with greater tenderness than I'd ever seen. “I just want you to
be
happy, Steph. That's all. Do whatever you have to do.” And I knew, as I looked at him, that he meant it, and I loved him for it.

“Can I still see you if I leave him?” I was worried now about all the things that I'd said. I wasn't feeling quite as brave, and worse yet when he shook his head, and almost started crying.

“No, you can't. It doesn't work like that. I can only stand in for him. I can't see you on my own.”

“But you said … you asked me to marry you last night….” I was confused. Would Peter have been part of it too? What was Paul thinking?

“I was kidding myself, Steph. We could get married, but I'd still be dependent on me.” He said it honestly, he didn't want to lie to her, he never had before and he wasn't going to start now. “I'd have to share you with him, even if you loved me more.”

“Sometimes I think I do.” I was always honest too. But most of the time, I knew just how much I loved Peter.

“I think you're really in love with him, Steph. Maybe you should explain that to him.”

“I'd probably scare him to death,” I said, looking pensive. And what was the point? Our relationship worked perfectly as it was. For him. Why ask for more? Why push it till it broke? I didn't want that.

“As Charlotte says, he's a dork,” Paul editorialized. “Maybe you both are. It could just be you deserve each other. Life is too short to waste what you've got. Or even waste me. It drives me crazy to think I'm going to sit around now, for months, with my head off, while the two of you screw everything up. Just get him to work on his triple flip. But he's a real klutz. He could hurt himself.
Be careful.” Paul was trying to cover how emotional he felt about leaving me, and I was especially worried about him when he showed up in black suede leggings with a black sequined jacket and high-heeled black alligator boots. I had never seen him looking so conservative or so somber.

“I don't like leaving you like this, Steph,” he said sadly, “not knowing when I'll see you again, if ever.”

“I suspect you will.” I smiled sheepishly at him. How could you leave a man who had a Klone? Especially one like Paul. “I'm not sure I could ever give either of you up. I think I'm hooked. I may have to go back to Dr. Steinfeld again, to work things out, and that could take forever.”

“Please don't. You don't need him. You know what you want.” He smiled sadly at me, and I could see how much he loved me.

“Take care of yourself,” I said to him as he kissed me for the last time. I was still wearing his ruby ring, and knew I always would. He said he wanted me to keep it.

“Give the kids my love.” They had already left for school. And then, he looked over his shoulder, as the elevator man piled all his luggage into the elevator, and said, “Be happy, Steph, whatever you do.” The door closed behind him before I could answer, and I wondered if I would ever
see him again. At that exact moment, I wasn't sure, and I already missed him.

And as I drove to the airport in a rented car, a frosted purple Tornado chosen by Paul, I could still hear the echo of Paul's words. I wondered where he was now, if his head was already off by then, if his wires were being pulled. I knew he had a couple of problems again. He had been smoking all week, from his left ear and right nostril, and I wasn't sure what that meant.

And as I stood at the gate, waiting for Peter, all I could think about was Paul. It was the most confusing relationship I'd ever been in. Roger had at least been boring. He slept a lot, and watched a lot of TV. He even watched
Jeopardy!
from time to time, and
Geraldo
, although he never admitted it when I walked into the room, and he clicked the set off. But there was nothing boring about Peter or Paul. Worse yet, they somehow complemented each other. Together, they were a whole man. And what a man!