Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (3 page)

Kate scanned the room to check her audience. Simon was
leaning back in his chair, elbows on the arms, fingers steepled, watching her
intently, an expression on his face that could only signify arrogant disdain.
What
on earth is he thinking?
She tried to ignore a sudden pinch in her ribcage,
reminding herself to breath.

Not a man for rules and schedules, Eli squirmed in his
chair. She reeled him back in, remembering that her first responsibility was to
put her clients at ease. "How does that sound to you, Eli?"

Eli's gaze questioned her. "S'okay with me," he
replied, shrugging.

Sharon smirked, her eyes darting to D'arcy, but D'arcy
avoided eye contact, remained reserved and placid, seemingly oblivious to all
the undercurrents in the room. She instead regarded Kate, awaiting her next
comment.

"Before we go any further, I want to address the
purpose of mediation," Kate said, warming to her familiar script. "My
role as a mediator is to help you to
talk
to each
other
. I am
completely neutral and I can't impose a solution on you. I want to help you to
find your
own
solutions. I am not a judge in a courtroom."
Struggling to swallow with a parched throat, she offered a reassuring smile,
glancing at Sharon and Simon. "My job is to work
with
you to
improve a situation that has become
un
-workable.”

Sharon cleared her throat, and Kate glanced at her.
“Yes?”

“Nothing,” she replied, her face pinched.

"Any negotiation must involve the discussion of
substantive issues, of course. But r-relationship issues are at least as
important, and until we settle those, we cannot hope to agree on the
substantive ones. So we will begin there."

"Seems to me you're making a big assumption that
reconciliation is both possible and advisable for our clients, Kate,"
interjected Simon quietly.

Eli's head shot up.

"There are divorce proceedings underway already,”
Simon added.

She heard the challenge in his voice, saw the contemptuous
smile lurking below the surface. She blinked at him. Another sharp pain shot
through her ribcage and she sucked in a long slow deep breath while waiting for
the aftershock to abate, willing the anxiety attack under control.

Kate stiffened her spine, raised her brows and continued,
"D'arcy and Eli agreed to come to me, Simon. However, I was about to say,
you should be aware that my background is crisis counseling and psychology, not
the law. My bent, therefore, if you will, is to examine the underlying..."
she swallowed, " ... causes of the problem. I am unabashedly a therapeutic
or reconciliation mediator. And an optimist." She smiled. "That is my
explicit bias."

"That's fairly unusual, isn't it?" Simon asked.

She shrugged, again outstretching her hands. "If in
the end both parties wish to divorce, that is their choice." She swallowed
the thickness in her throat. "At least keep an open mind, for your
client's sake."

"As I trust
you
will, Kate.”

She responded with a tight smile and a hard glare.
What's
up with him?
How dare he challenge her?

"I have complete confidence in your
objectivity
,”
Simon continued.

Was that sarcasm? "Excellent!" She turned away.
"Eli," she said, looking directly into his dark eyes, mirroring his
grave expression "You and I haven’t met before today. You weren’t involved
in my selection. If you have any concerns, please tell me now. You
must
feel that your interests are protected." She saw his gaze waver toward
Simon, as though tugged away by magnets. Two strangers.

Simon's eyes narrowed, advertising his suspicion.

Then Eli's eyes returned to hers, and she felt her magic
take effect. So many mediators forgot to be empathetic and warm. He relaxed, a
weak smile flickering across his face. She could feel his hopefulness as he
nodded almost imperceptibly. She turned her gaze on D'arcy, head inclined,
until she nodded too. She was alarmed to see her words had the opposite effect
on Simon, who tutted and tossed down his pen with a dismissive and cynical air.
Why was he being so contentious? Did he have that much contempt for her still?
Who did he think he was coming in here and trying to undermine her credibility?
Well, she'd show him. What did he know, anyway, about mediation? About
relationships? About her?

Increasingly flustered, Kate was relieved to hand out
consent forms and wait quietly while everyone reviewed and signed them. She
hesitated, biting her lip. Conflict of interest was kind of an issue here.
Strictly speaking, she had an ethical responsibility to acknowledge any current
or previous relationship with the disputants
or,
she supposed, their
lawyers.

She squinted in Simon's direction, pondering the problem.
Fifteen years was a long time. His features, tranquil while he scanned the
form, were even more handsome than they had been at nineteen. She felt her
pulse race wildly as the memory of him then, how he had made her feel, all that
he'd meant to her, invaded her mind, and body, like a creeping virus.

He glanced up and studied her just as carefully over the
bent heads of the others. Her gaze locked briefly with his, and one corner of
his sensuous bow-shaped mouth crept upward in secret acknowledgment, as if
daring her to tell her clients that they'd in fact been lovers. She panicked,
glancing down at her notes, her heartbeat like thunder. Was he mocking her with
that sardonic smile? Her breath wouldn't come, and she struggled to draw more
air.

She couldn't do it. She just couldn't make herself do it.
She could send them to another mediator, but... so much was riding on this for
her. Another perfect case study like this wouldn’t come her way before the end
of the year. Would it affect her performance? Her objectivity? She prayed not,
but she was in such a flustered state. If neither of them said anything, who
would know? Was that wrong? She'd think it over. There'd be time later. Maybe
she could get rid of him some other way. Maybe David Broadbent would come back.
She grasped at the threads of her thoughts.
What was I saying?
She stood
up and paced the length of the table and back.

"I--I can assure you all that--that, though I may at
times appear to be meandering in my questioning, I am quite purposeful in my
methods. We are going on a journey of discovery together, and I
do
have
a map." Kate paused, conscious she was reciting her script too quickly,
hoping for a serene countenance to conceal her distress. She'd never felt so
lost at sea in her life. Well. Almost never. But she wasn't going there again.
She'd gotten over him long ago. There was nothing to worry about.

She gathered the forms and tapped them briskly on the
table, resuming her seat. "I can also assure you that, if you play by my
rules, you will both leave here satisfied.
Both
of you." She looked
from D'arcy to Eli and back again. D'arcy’s crisp brow creased with a tiny
frown. She couldn't fail to notice Simon's lip curl in disbelief. Annoying man.

She leveled her gaze at both lawyers, trying to suppress
her feelings of skepticism. From past experience, Kate knew she'd have some
trouble with Sharon as things got going. Simon's game plan was a complete
mystery. What kind of a lawyer had he become, anyway? Was he the cynical,
embittered, arrogant man he seemed? They'd better not mess this up for her. It
was too important. She would simply have to handle them, like she handled all
difficult people. His eyes followed her as she moved.

She felt so exposed -- so naked under his scrutiny. She
folded an arm across her churning middle and fingered the silver eternal knot
pendant that hung at her neck - a reminder of the interrelatedness of all
phenomena - and drew a deep breath, using it to calm herself. Was there a
reason Simon had walked back into her life today? What lesson was she supposed
to take from this?

His eyes were very expressive, very watchful, cerulean
blue, though his face was impassive. What thoughts swirled in that gorgeous
head? His hair was still blond with a slight wave, but cut much shorter than
she remembered. It looked darker than she remembered, too, almost brown at the
nape. But it still shone with golden highlights and looked windblown, inviting
touch. His nose was long and ever-so-slightly kinked to the right, his jaw
still lean and strong though his face was much fuller than it had been when he
was nineteen: less scrawny-boy, more chiseled-man, with more than a hint of
shadowed worry. She wet her lips as her eyes followed the slope of his jaw up
to Pan-like ears that made him seem...
What am I doing?
She had a
meeting to run. A job to do. She pushed on.

"So. Um. If I have everyone's agreement... have
I?" she glanced around again, and everyone nodded.

"You have my complete commitment, Kate,” Sharon
said. For some reason, her tone only increased Kate's doubts and worries.

"Of course I respect your methods, Kate,” Simon's
warm tenor carried a hint of private amusement. "If what you are looking
for is cooperation, you have it. But I can't be expected to commit to agree to
a settlement I haven't seen, or a process, for that matter, that is not in my
client's best interests, can I?" He raised his sandy eyebrows expectantly.
Eli, who had been industriously doodling with his fountain pen, sat up
straighter and glanced at Simon with a hint of concern on his handsome face.

"You do understand me, Simon. I am looking for full
participation, not an arbitrary substantive agreement," Kate clarified in
a voice intended to reassure Eli.
Play along.
She forced a smile onto
her face.

Over the next half hour, Kate reviewed confidentiality
policies, then went over the step-by-step procedures. She reviewed the rules
about handling emotions. And finally she talked to them about the written
agreement that would be the important end result of the process.

"Good. Now about our timetable, we should commit to
continue until, say, mid-to-late November, though I am optimistic that we can come
to a resolution before then. I prefer to meet once a week, if possible. After
the first session, it won’t be necessary for Sharon and Simon to attend."
Could she simply get rid of both of them? Dared she hope?

"I'm afraid it is," Sharon said. "I've been
requested to attend every session by Madame Duchamp, who is paying your
bill."

Kate drew in a breath, held it and let it go.
Nicely
done, Sharon.
"Of course. For some people it can be cost
prohibitive."

D'arcy’s gaze rested on the ceiling, making Kate wonder
who was calling the shots. Sharon pursed her lips and looked at Kate, chin
raised in a challenge.

"If she's here, Simon is too.” Eli glared at Sharon
while still avoiding eye contact with D'arcy. "You’ll stay, right
Simon?"

Simon nodded. "If that's what you want, Eli."

Damn
. She was stuck with him, as long as she kept
this case. And she very much wanted this case for her presentation. "Okay.
But remember you're not here to stir up trouble. Your schedules everyone?"
Kate said, flipping open her calendar. Her head was buzzing, and dark spots
danced at the periphery of her vision. She rested her head in her hand, trying
to gain control. She wouldn’t faint, but bile was definitely fighting its way
up her gullet.
How am I going to do this?

Sharon scanned her agenda, while Simon reached into his
briefcase in search of his. "I'm pretty flexible, Kate,” she said.
"I'm at an advantage, since I have no travel time. I’ll defer to Simon, of
course." She blinked rapidly at him. It was a peculiarly feminine gesture at
odds with her rigid bearing that made Kate cringe and wondered how well she
knew him, or wanted to. Against all logic, a twist of jealousy tightened her
jaw.

She imagined the young idealistic Simon growing up,
growing older. What had his life been like to make him so hard, when he had
been such a gentle soul? Who was he now? And why should she care? She's gotten
over him long ago. She'd been through therapy; she understood how her memory of
trauma had transferred to Simon. She shouldn't be falling apart now.
Nevertheless, a surge of nausea washed over her and her vision darkened.

Simon found what he was looking for, flipped through the
pages, frowning. "I can meet Tuesday or Thursday mornings, with my current
caseload, or possibly Friday afternoons but no later than 4:30." He looked
up, his brows raised in question.

Kate peered at Simon as though down a long tunnel.

She felt a wave of dizziness, swaying in her chair.

"Are you okay, Kate?” D'arcy asked, reaching out a
hand.

"Um. Yes. Yes, fine. Thanks." An upsurge of
nausea overwhelmed her. Cold sweat chilled her crawling skin. "F-Friday
afternoons are no good. Bad time–- bad time of the day
and
week.
Everyone's energy is at its lowest. Let's say Tuesdays. Nine o'clock. D'arcy…
Eli? Are you all right with that time?"

"Not before ten, ple-ease," Eli begged. D'arcy
twitched, glowering at Eli.

"Is there a problem, Eli?" Kate asked through
her teeth.
Please!
She was feeling so dizzy and sick, she couldn't tamp
it down anymore.
I have to get out of here.

"I need my shut-eye, that's all," he replied.
"I'm not an early riser. I paint at night, and sometimes-- "

"Hah!" barked D'arcy. "More like paint
the
night. Who are you fooling, Eli?" she snarled. It was the first time she
had looked at him or addressed him directly. They glared at each other.

Please don't start now!

"Oh, so you are speaking to me after all," Eli
snarked. "
I
don't schedule openings and receptions." He jabbed
himself in the chest. “They expect me to show up." He curbed his tone at
the end, glaring at her, his eyes sliding over to Kate, patches of color rising
on his cheeks.