Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (25 page)

She accepted the
cup, peering over the rim at the half-inch of golden liquid. If it wasn’t
perfectly clean, at least the scotch might sterilize it, she thought. “Thanks.”
Upon closer inspection, both the cup and the scotch looked fine, though the
juxtaposition seemed incongruous to say the least. She sat where he gestured,
and he dropped himself onto the sofa beside her, grinning. “What are you
smiling at?” she asked.

“Oh. It’s just nice
to have company. Someone who speaks English and doesn’t smell like diesel or
fish. I haven’t seen anyone for several days.”

She laughed. “Oh.
Well. If I’d known you’d be so happy to see me, I would have come much sooner.”
Kate braved a small sip of the scotch, and discovered that it was wonderfully
smooth. Her nose tingled with the earthy aroma as the tawny liquid burned a
path down her throat. It bolstered her courage. She settled back on the sofa,
no longer concerned with the filth, and took a larger swig, smiling and feeling
the warmth take hold in her belly. “So
have
you been living
here?”

“Not exactly. I
go home to shower and get food and beer.” She raised her eyebrows at him and
his surroundings, prompting the further, “ … just not lately.”

She laughed
again. “So what have you been working on?”

“Mmm. A new
series I’ve been thinking about. Sketches. Cartoons. The last one grabbed hold
of me, so I got out the oils and haven’t stopped.”

She was more than
curious. “Is it a secret?”

He tilted his
head. “Yes and no.
You
can see it. Come on.” He jumped up from
the sofa and led the way back into the studio. She followed eagerly to the
giant easel, thinking that he was a different man in his own environment,
relaxed, energized and powerful, and waited as he climbed a step ladder and
pulled back a huge, paint splattered canvas tarp from one edge. She stepped
back, trying to take in what she saw.

The stretched
canvas was very large, perhaps eight feet wide, and more, maybe ten feet high.
Most of it was quite bare, with large thin washes of beige and grey veiling but
not covering his bold, charcoal lines. Two figures, their arms tangled as they
clutched at each other, stood almost back-to-back. They were gaunt, underfed,
their musculature explicitly drawn in dark lines. Even without the benefit of
light, shadow and colour, Eli had been able to capture their striving, their
effort, with posture and gesture alone. Kate stood transfixed.

Finally she could
speak. “It’s like a Matisse, with gravitas, angst, and anorexia. Are they
fighting or dancing?”

He chortled.
“Both, I guess.”

“My God, Eli. You
really know what you’re doing.”

“Hm. No,
actually. That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” his voice was wistful, and he
had clearly taken her meaning the wrong way. He shrugged and turned away.

She studied him
for a long time. “Let’s go sit down,” she suggested. He followed her back to
the lounge, stopping to pick up the bottle of malt from the counter, and
refilled her cup. Somehow she’d managed to drain it.

He fetched himself
another beer and sat down again next to her, tucked a cigarette between his
lips and flicked on his lighter.

“How are you
feeling? Still angry?” she asked.

“Aah. No. I’m
long past anger,” he inhaled, his voice quiet, the tip of his cigarette glowing
red.

She thought for a
moment, looking into her cup. He sounded desolate. “D'arcy went to Montreal.”

He frowned. “That
doesn’t surprise me.” He took a long swig of his beer.

“She’s coming
back Thursday— with her mother.” She studied his face carefully. Whatever he
thought of that, he didn’t show it, but she thought she detected some tension
around his dark eyes. “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to talk to you
about… ”

Eli leaned
forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his beer bottle dangling in between.
“Mmm?”

“Sharon has
decided to file a professional conduct complaint against me, and maybe Simon, I
don’t know.” She shot a nervous glance at him.

He sneered.
“What’s that shrew got up her ass?”

“I should have
said something right away,” Kate said. “Simon and I were quite romantically
involved years ago, and Sharon found out. She’s claiming we’ve renewed our
relationship.”

“I should hope
so.” He sat upright, smiling broadly. “He’s had plenty of time to make his
move. How slow could the man go?”

“What?”

“Simon told me
when we first met, about your history. I figured you’d be into a steamy affair
by now,” he smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

“We’re not
allowed to do that. We’re working together. We can’t be in… in… in
volved
with each
other.”

“Why not? How can
it affect us?”

“Well, that’s the
question. I can’t see how it could bias our thinking about you two, though it
has been distracting. But technically, Sharon has a case, if only because we
weren’t
truthful at
first.”

“Well. You can
call me as a witness. I’m all for it. You two
ought
to be together.”
He drank again.

“Ought to be?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re
cut from the same cloth, you two.” His stomach growled viciously, and he
clutched it making a face.

What a strange
thing to say. “Well. It’s not that simple.” She swept a hand through the air.
“But anyway, we have to deal with Sharon and her protocol now. I wanted you to
know. How ‘bout I take you out for a real meal?”

He grimaced,
gesturing across his state of dress. “I’m hardly presentable. I could get a
pizza.” She smiled and nodded. Maybe she could get him to open up tonight yet,
if she persevered. This may be unconventional, but it might be worthwhile in
the end.

Blue moonlight
flooded in through the large bare window, and she noted that the sky was almost
clear now, a dark indigo. How quickly the sun set. It was getting close to the
shortest day of the year. She could hear him on the phone, and a few minutes
later he was back with a fresh beer. He refilled her cup. She felt relaxed for
the first time in weeks.

“I ordered a
pepperoni and a Greek. Figured I’d cover all the bases, and I can always use
the leftovers,” he grinned sheepishly, another cigarette pinched between his
smirking lips, “…for breakfast.”

Before long there
was a thudding on the outer door. “Be right back.”

She jumped up and
grabbed her purse. “Let me get it.”

“No, no. I’ve got
an account, don’t worry,” his muffled voice came from the hall as he headed for
the door. She heard him open it and then, “Hey Stu.” Stu replied with equally colloquial
greetings and bummed a smoke. “Thanks, dude.” The door closed.

“I can’t believe
they deliver here.”

“I’m a regular.”
He shrugged, and dropped the boxes on top of the cluttered coffee table. “Dig
in. Oh, do you want a plate?” he asked, as an afterthought.

Kate thought
about the likelihood of there being a clean plate. She waved a hand. They
settled in to eat their pizza. Afterwards they sat, sated, sipping their drinks
and enjoying the quiet.

“Tell me how
you’re feeling about D'arcy now. Do you think we can get back to work?”

“I dunno.” Eli
cast his gaze at the floor, pursing his lips. Then he glanced up at her,
flashed a tight smile, looked down again, shrugging, and spun his wedding ring
around absently.

She waited for
him to say more. When he didn’t, she ventured, “What has she done that’s so
upset you?”

“I’m frustrated.
I feel like she’s playing games with me. I hardly know her. I even thought she
was sick, for a while. The things that she’s gotten upset about —women, money,
time— well… I know they look bad, but I haven’t done anything differently than
I ever did, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” He shrugged and took a drag.
“But lately she’s so sensitive, so demanding.”

He flicked the
ash from his cigarette.

“I would have
thought my big break would make her feel better. It may not be secure, but I’ve
been bringing in a lot of money for the first time since I met her. I didn’t expect
her to flip out.”

“Maybe she just
wants to know that she can rely on you— to look out for her sometime. Maybe
she’s afraid that you don’t need her anymore,” suggested Kate.

“But, that makes
me sound so mercenary. I’ve always needed D'arcy by my side, but not for the
financial support. She’s my soul mate. No one understands me like D'arcy does.
I just want her to trust me. Is that too much to ask? I’m the same man she fell
in love with seven years ago.”

“Are you?”

He tossed his
head. “Maybe more so. I’m a man. I want to be acknowledged as one. I want
respect. Haven’t I kept my part of the bargain? Haven’t I worked my ass off?
What more does she want from me?”

“Maybe she needs
something from you that’s a little more mundane. Or maybe she wants you to take
care of
her
. Even modern women who work, and have financial
independence, need a little reassurance once in a while. She may be tired of
the burden of responsibility. You could try being the caregiver for a change.
You could be her protector.” Where had that come from? Straight from her
insecure subconscious, she imagined. “Maybe I’m just old fashioned at heart, but
I think there’s a part of every woman that wants her man to put something on
the line for her. To
risk
something. What are you prepared to give
up?”

Eli gave a
cynical laugh. “That’s not who I am. I’m not good at all those details. I just
take one day at a time, y’know? I’m an artist, for God’s sake!”

 Kate drew
herself up, resolved. It was now or never. “Tell me about D’arcy’s parents.
What happened when you met them?”

Eli tossed his
head back on the sofa with a gust of air. “So this isn’t just a social visit?”
he deadpanned, gazing up at the stained grid ceiling, then back at her, his
expression grim.

She leaned
forward, and looked pointedly into his eyes. “I want to get you and D'arcy back
to where you were.” Kate spread her hands like wings in a plaintive gesture. “I
feel responsible for missing this issue with her family. I should have been
more astute.”

He looked at her
keenly. “If D'arcy and I are going to make this work, we’re going to have to do
it without her folks. She has to decide where her future is.”

“You can’t mean
that! You can’t ask her to… to give up her family.” Kate felt her words
sticking together as she forced them past a tongue that seemed too thick. She
hadn’t meant to drink so much of the scotch. “Y’know she can’t be happy if she
has to choose.” She reached across and placed a hand on his arm. She had to
help him see a compromise was the only way.

Eli’s chin was
down, and his eyes flashed from under his dark brows. Even with his unkempt
hair, and thick carpet of facial hair, he was still a handsome man. Dark eyes
like pools burned into her own, shining like those of an animal, vulnerable yet
dangerous. He seemed to be assessing her worth.

“Trust me. I
won’t tell anyone. I’ll keep your secret, if I must. But help me understand
what’s wrong. I want to help you.” They held each other’s eyes, and she was
uncertain who had fallen under whose hypnotic spell, for in that moment it
seemed mutual. Jeez, she felt woozy. In the back of her foggy mind drifted the
thought that this was so inappropriate.

He released a
heavy breath, his shoulders sagging. “They offered me money.”

Kate was suddenly
alert.

“D’arcy’s
parents. When we went to meet them. To tell them we wanted to get married. The
old man took me aside and offered me money to disappear from her life.” He
spoke in a monotonous drone, as though it were too painful to recall the facts
with the emotions still attached.

Comprehending,
Kate felt her eyes fill with tears. She blinked. “Oh, Eli!”

His face was
cool, his mouth twisting in a bitter sneer. “It was a generous offer. I should
have been flattered, I suppose. A hundred grand to pack up and leave, no
explanations, never to be found again. ‘Go study at the Sorbonne. Start your
career in Paris, or somewhere else far away from my daughter, if you get my
drift.’ That’s what he said. It was more money than I’d ever seen in one place,
and they knew it. They assumed I was a gold-digger.”

“Poor you.”

He nodded again,
lips tight. “D'arcy never knew, never understood the degree of their
opposition, and I didn’t have the heart to drive a wedge between her and her
parents. When I declined his offer, they simply forbade our marriage, and
D'arcy and I returned to Vancouver and did it anyway. Afterwards, they carried
on as though I never existed. As though there was no marriage. It’s been a very
uncomfortable co-existence ever since.”

“So, there’s
never been any acknowledgement? No apology?” Kate asked, incredulous. He shook
his head. They were sitting very close together, shoulders touching. She looked
hard at him for a long time, thinking. This had gone on too long. How could it
be fixed? “D'arcy made her choice. She chose you. You have to tell D'arcy, and
together challenge them. It’s time.”