Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (31 page)

Kate pulled herself together, forcing a laugh and raising
her voice. “I warned you guys. What do you expect from a woman who spends half
of every year trekking around Nepal with a Sherpa, and the other half hermitted
away with her mail order business?” The jarring odour of cold winter air,
incense and cigarettes wafted about Eli and D'arcy as they shucked their coats
and hung them up, snickering and whispering, heads together.

Kate stole a glance in Sharon’s direction. Fortunately,
the upheaval seemed to have distracted Sharon, who was watching D'arcy and Eli
curiously, intrigued by their adventure. If she’d seen or heard anything in the
kitchen, she wasn’t letting on. Kate’s breathing slowed ever so slightly, and
her pulse calmer.

“She’s lived quite the life. We almost had to stay there
for lunch, she told stories…” D'arcy shook her head, meeting Eli’s eyes,
sparkling with shared delight.

“Lunch will be ready soon,” said Simon, turning back to
the kitchen, and looking into Kate’s eyes with silent laughter, communicating
his shared embarrassment, affection, and so much more with the intensity of his
starry gaze. The smile she’d forced onto her face fell away as she realized how
much he could convey with those eyes, so much meant just for her.

Kate pointedly avoided his gaze while serving a platter
of tuna sandwiches and coffee and more Christmas cookies. Once they were all
seated, he turned, pensive and preoccupied, nibbling half-heartedly on his tuna
sandwich, his glazed eyes fixed on the shimmering mirrored baubles slung across
the Christmas tree in the middle of the room.

Kate tried to keep her attention on what D'arcy was
saying. “ … hair dyed flaming red, who knows what colour it was… ”

“It’s probably snow white now. I’m sure she’s not a day
under seventy.” Eli interrupted.

“I’m sure Lena’s not that old. I took her for sixty,
maybe,” Kate said, incredulous.

“I’m not so sure. You should have heard some of the
stories she was telling, of growing up in England,” Eli contradicted.

D'arcy shook her head vigourously, plucking another
sandwich from the pile. “But she’s French. Surely she’s French, with that
accent.”

“No, no, no. I think she’s originally from Bulgaria or
someplace. She lived in France for many–”

“Good heavens, she sounds very colourful, anyway,” Sharon
interjected. “And she actually makes a living importing statues of Buddha?”

“And you wouldn’t believe what else!” D'arcy exclaimed.
“You really had to see the place to believe it Sharon. Piles of boxes and heaps
of stuff. All sorts of religious artifacts from Tibet, China, India…”

“That would interest you, Simon, wouldn’t it?” Sharon
turned to him, jogging him out of his personal train of thought.

“Hmm?” He blinked.

“What’s the matter? You don’t seem to have your usual
appetite.” Sharon scowled at the half-eaten sandwich that hung suspended in his
hand.

“Preoccupied, Sharon, that’s all.” He glared at her for a
moment and shook his head. “Not hungry, I guess.” He set down his sandwich,
glancing at Kate. “I… uh… have to make another phone call, actually, excuse
me.” He pushed his chair back and stood up, moving away from the table while he
pulled out his cell phone.

“He’s awfully quiet today,” commented Sharon.

“Must be work,” mumbled Eli.

“Or his daughter?” D'arcy softly speculated.

“He’s such a devoted father,” offered Sharon in an
undertone. He disappeared behind the carved privacy screen, and his cell phone
rang in his hand.

“Hello?…Right, I was just about to call you.”

“Excuse me for a moment.” Kate stood up, taking advantage
of the fact that the others were eating and still talking about her crazy
neighbour.

“I did want to go over that with you,” he was saying into
his phone. “Thursday might be possible, but I’ll have to check with my
secretary later today, when I’m back in the office.”

He glanced at her.

“I think there’s a precedent for that, yes,” Simon said
distractedly as she moved past him to the bathroom, following her with his
eyes.

A moment later, as Kate opened the bathroom door, he
stepped through the door, nudging her back into the room, still talking on his
phone. “I’ve gotta go now. Bye.” He hung up the phone abruptly, and rather
rudely she thought, and closed the door. “It’s just my brother,” he explained,
but that didn’t explain at all the previous chatter about secretaries and
precedents.

“Ssss… ” Kate caught herself before she exclaimed loudly,
but not before he silenced her with a fervent kiss. “Mmmm.” She gasped, her
eyes wide, recovering and pulling away with her hands against his firm chest. “What
are you doing? Are you crazy?” she hissed.

“Mmm. Crazy for you,” he murmured, his hot and needy eyes
raking over her body.

“Looks like you’ve got more than talking on your mind
today. This is ridiculous. We can’t be in here together. You promised.” Kate
stood with her arms akimbo, a strangely aggressive posture given the fact that
she was whispering.

He grinned, and raked a hand through his hair, drawing a
breath. “It’s only that I’m so damned frustrated playing these stupid childish
games. Agree to see me and maybe I can relax.” He was begging, becoming
belligerent. He pressed on in an urgent whisper.

“Shhh.” She opened the connecting door into her en suite
drawing him through, separating their voices from eavesdroppers by one more
door.

He closed it, glancing through to her bedroom over her
shoulder. “If at the end of this, you send me away, then fine. I’ll go. But not
without understanding something. I can feel… something between us that’s
overpowering me. I know you feel it too. And it’s not just shared memories of
our old affair. It’s more. There’s a bond between us that we can’t ignore.”

“How can I ignore it when you won’t leave me alone?” she
sighed, exasperated.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything, Kate. That
you don’t want to see me ever again once this case wraps.” Simon grasped her
shoulders and squeezed, stroking her arms in frustration. He gazed deeply into
her worried eyes. “I need to be alone with you.”

“I don’t know. I only know we cannot do this while we are
trying to work together. I’m in so much trouble already.” She felt her face
threaten to crumble as tears welled again. This was too much. She couldn’t deal
with it.

He sighed, and brushed a hand over his eyes. Then he
framed her face with his palms, slid them down to cup her shoulders, squeezed
reassuringly. “I know. I know you’re worried. I’m confident Sharon’s complaint
will come to nothing, but I understand you’re concerned. She’s got no
foundation. It'll be dismissed. It'll be okay, sweetheart, I promise. ”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, pressing
his face against her neck, cheek to cheek.

“How can you say that? Look at us.” She lifted her hands
to illustrate, and ended with them against his cotton smooth back, rubbing up
and down. He smelled so good.

“Okay. Not now. Let’s have dinner.” He paused to think,
pulling back to push her hair back from her face. “Saturday. We’ll just talk. I
promise.”

“
That’s
what you said last time,” she replied, meeting his eye apprehensively. Why was
she even considering this given her earlier resolution? “Can’t you wait a week
or two until this case is resolved and I hear back about the complaint? I’d just
like to know where I stand before I flaunt our… whatever… in public.”

With one bent finger, he touched her eyebrow lightly,
traced a line down her nose, dragged a fingertip across her bottom lip, making
her shudder. “Please, Kate. It won’t hurt. I can’t think about anything else. I
feel like you’re rejecting me, and I can’t–”

“Oh, alright. But not… out anywhere… Here, at the loft.
Just stop talking to me now. Please.” She shoved him gently away. “We can’t
stay here. They’ll come looking…” She sliced the air with an agitated hand, and
marched out of the room before she surrendered completely to his persistent
touches.

Kate’s
stomach sickened with worry. She
awoke early and lay in bed, spread-eagled, body and soul too weighed down with
inertia to move. She had been filled with a vague aching sense of loss while
she imagined Simon reconciled with Rachel, or moving on to a new relationship,
as though she’d let something unimaginably precious slip through her fingers,
although this was offset by a sense of its inevitability. Although she still
had doubts about his conviction and the intensity of his feelings since their
encounter on Tuesday, now she was worried for different reasons. It was almost
easier if there were insurmountable obstacles. No matter which way things
turned out, she was thrown into nadirs of emotional turmoil that threatened to
engulf her.

Then, yesterday, just as if it had been preordained, she
had been punished for agreeing to have dinner with Simon on Saturday. At least
that was how it felt to her. A letter from the Mediation Roster Society had
arrived in the mail. She should be relieved, in truth. The complaint could have
gone to a formal review. On the other hand, the whole matter might have been
dismissed. She knew Rose MacIlhaney was behind it. In retrospect, she was
grateful she’d taken the trouble to consult with her mentor back in October.
Kate remembered exactly what she’d said in reply.

“
It’s a very
grey area, Kate. You no longer have a relationship with the man, and haven’t
seen each other for a very long time. It’s not likely to affect your judgment
regarding your clients, so it’s up to you to decide if your performance is
negatively affected in any way by his presence. Only you can answer that.
”
Affected by his presence, indeed.

Clipped to the Administrator’s letter announcing his
referral of the matter to the Practice Advisory Committee was a handwritten
note from Rose.

Dear Kate,

I’m sorry I
could not shield you from this. However, your thoughtful and sincere appeal
made a favourable impression on several members of the executive, myself
included. You are capable of working through this difficulty, and both you and
I know that you need to. This is an opportunity for you to dig a little deeper
and sort these ghosts out once and for all. You won’t regret it, I promise.

Affectionately,
Rose.

Hmph
.
If Sharon’s claim had come as a surprise to Rose, she might have been shocked
and disappointed in Kate. As it is, Kate knew she was being subjected to a
test. Only Rose could take this situation and make it even more challenging for
her. She was reminded of her commitment to Eli. Hopefully she would get only a
reprimand, but still, it was humiliating, and it was still possible that, on
presentation of the facts, the committee might recommend disciplinary action,
even temporary suspension of her license. They had the power and at that point,
it was out of Rose’s hands. Her stomach and heart squeezed tight at the
thought, as though they had become molten and fused into a solid mass in her
middle, like a lump of cooling magma. She slipped one hand out from the duvet
and pressed a tight fist against her aching chest.
I cannot live without my work
. Nevertheless, Rose
had raised the stakes.

Oscar twitched in his sleep. She lay listening to the
rhythmic wheezing emitting from his coiled body nestled next to her, waiting
for his anxious predatory dream to find its resolution before stirring. Her own
dreams had been fraught with worry, her nerves shredded.

Bweeeeeeh.
Bweeeeeh.

What the hell? She glanced at her bedside alarm clock.
6:34. Who was ringing her buzzer at this hour?

She tried to gently shift Oscar, but he jerked awake and
jumped off the bed, freeing her to run to the intercom. “Hello?”

“Kate. I’ve got Starbucks.” It was Alexa, presumably on
her way to the office.

A moment later they were sprawled on her sofa with
vente lattes
and almond
croissants. “Hey. Thanks.”

“Nmpmffm,” Alexa replied with her mouth full.

“Nice to see you. What’s the occasion?”

Alexa swallowed and rinsed her mouth with coffee before
replying. “It’s ages since I saw you. I’ve only got an hour before work.”

They flopped onto the sofa with their coffees and croissants.

“How’s everything?” Alexa asked between bites.

Kate didn’t know how to answer her. She recounted the
news of her letter from the Executive first, as that seemed perhaps the most
pressing of her worries.

Alexa chewed and swallowed. “That’s a drag,” she
admitted, but said no more.

She filled Alexa in on the progress of Eli and Darcy’s
case, always careful not to reveal personal details, and the fact that Simon
was pushing to spend more time with her, even though the timing was especially
bad.

“Anyway, the other bit is… ” she glanced at Alexa,
contrite. “I gave in and agreed to have dinner with him on Saturday night,” she
added quickly, “at my place.” She winced, anticipating Alexa’s reaction.

She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee.

Kate continued to stare at her, waiting for a response, a
scolding, something.

Alex looked up. “What? You want me to warn you that
you’re setting yourself up for temptation, what with you being all Martha
Stewart-y cooking a nice meal at home?”

Kate wrinkled her nose. Is that what she was doing?
Seducing Simon?

“Why is this so hard?” Alexa said. “If I thought this
much about a relationship before I got involved with someone, my sex life would
be non-existent.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Alex, I’m talking about
love.”

Alex rolled her eyes and took a long slurp of her latte.
“Love shmove.”

Kate smacked her friend’s arm, almost spilling her
coffee. “That’s your idea of help?”

Alexa gave her a wry smile.

“What I’ve been thinking about is, this whole obsession
thing. How the mind works.”

Alexa sipped and munched and nodded.

“I’ve never spent so much energy thinking about another
man.”

“I know.”

“So. Is it that there’s something inevitable about me and
Simon? Am I destined always to love him? Is it fated, or something?”

Alexa’s eyebrows went up dramatically.

“Don’t answer that. I know you’re skeptical about my
spiritual meanderings.”

Alexa huffed through her nose in acknowledgement of this
truth.

“Or maybe I’m utterly deluded. What it comes down to is
the nature of truth, the nature of knowledge. It’s a metaphysical question. How
am I ever to know? What criteria should I use? And does it even matter when
you’re talking about emotion?”

Alexa crossed her eyes at Kate, and Kate retaliated by
thumping her with a cushion.

“Remind me why we’re best friends again,” Alexa said.

Kate pursed her lips. “Because we’re good for each other.
If we were the same, we’d both be impossible, with nobody to contradict us or
call our bullshit.”

“I’m calling your bullshit, sister. If I have a bullshit
card, I’m playing it now. I’ve never heard you indulge yourself in your
metaphysical mumbo-jumbo quite like this before. And if I have to listen to
much more, you’re going to owe me bigtime.”

“Shut up and listen,” Kate replied. “I need to air these
thoughts before they drive me mad.”

Alex set down her empty coffee cup and reclined, putting
her feet up on the spool coffee table that she loved to hate, feigning boredom.

“Over the years, I convinced myself that my obsession
with Simon was based only on a reality that existed inside my own head.” Kate
spiraled a hand around her head. “Some kind of unfulfilled, doubtless neurotic,
need. Romantic, yes, but delusional. As you know, Simon wasn’t a part of my life,
and as far as I knew, he never would be.”

Alexa closed her eyes and laid her head back. “Go on.”

“I learned to survive and to rely on myself. But a part
of me never forgot that love I felt. No other experience could compare to it.
He haunted my dreams. And so… I guess, I could never really be happy with
anyone else. Never happy without him, or the construction of him that I carried
in my mind.”

Alexa opened her eyes and glanced at her phone. “I have a
meeting in a half hour, honey.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Alexa smiled, indulgent.

“There’s the rub. I want to be whole and feel complete
without him. Without anybody. Not just independence. Not just love. But
wholeness. Somehow, somewhere along the road I left a part of myself behind,
and now nothing feels right.”

It was her nature to believe in abstractions, however
unrealistic. Even her emotional life was fueled by ideas. She could be moved to
agonizing or passionate tears by music, art, drama, nature, acts of kindness,
and even random events. Hers was the type of personality that looked for and
found deep philosophical meaning in ordinary things. Her world was not material
or existential but spiritual, intellectual. She couldn’t help it.

“So the question I’m asking myself is, is this real
because I
feel
it, or
do I feel it because it
is
real? “

Alexa sighed. “You don’t really expect an answer, I
hope.”

Kate sighed. “I don’t know what to do, or even what to
think. The foundations of my carefully reconstructed world are threatening to
crumble— have been crumbling ever since Simon crashed back into my life in
October.”

“Remember what I said last week? I don’t know how you
come up with this stuff, but what if all your focus on finding the perfect mate
is an excuse to avoid making a commitment because of your fear of intimacy and
commitment?”

Kate groaned and flung herself back against the sofa
cushions. “Why can’t I be normal? Surely most women don’t go through this.”

“I guarantee it. But because Simon is Simon, the man
you’ve always wanted, you have to dream up extra complicated reasons why you
can’t have him.”

“You’re right. Thank you.”

“Hey don’t mention it. That’s what I live for.” She
grinned and stood up, preparing to leave.

Kate knew it was the years of obsession, the grief, the
depression and the healing that had taught her to intellectualize and analyze
her feelings to death. Ultimately there was no answer to whether Simon was her
true soul mate, if such a thing existed, despite the appeal of having one
person to provide her with validation, to know her and love her for her
essential self. But in the end, it was no help. You were left with your gut
feelings. With fear, with love and with trust.

~*~

Because
their attorneys had already
initialed the document, and she needed only D'arcy and Eli’s signatures on the
final resolution agreement, she was meeting them at their condo apartment on
the West Side. Five copies of the lengthy document weighed down her briefcase
and gave her mission a satisfying sense of finality, offsetting in some small
way the weight of worry she carried as well. Afterwards, she was meeting Alex
for a much-needed girls’ lunch, the first in awhile. If she couldn’t figure out
what to do, Alexa was usually able to help her see straight.

She couldn’t be happier with the case, despite the
setbacks. D'arcy and Eli had worked through some trying challenges, and she
knew they were going to reap the benefits for years to come. It would be
challenging, but then, what marriage was not?

Not that I
have any first hand experience
, she thought wistfully,
commitment-phobe that I am
. All
things considered, she seemed to have gotten a slow start in life. By the time
she’d sorted through her psychological difficulties and her career, her school
friends had already gone through a couple of waves of settling down and having
families. Except, thankfully, for Alexa.
I’m
thirty-four years old!
Was there romance and a family life still
ahead? Or was
she
too
burdened with fears ever to make a relationship work? That’s what she’d told
Jay. The truth was that life with Jay would always feel like a compromise. And
she didn’t think she was the type to settle.

Eli greeted her at the door with his now-familiar grin of
contentment. It looked somehow out of place in his swarthy, unshaven face, as
though it hadn’t yet decided whether to stay, as though his happiness was a
source of embarrassment or surprise. She could hardly wait to see him as a
proud father. He was as like to burst at the seams. “Kate! Good to see you.
Come in.” Instead of his uniform of jeans and leather jacket, he was
comfortably clad in baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt decorated with holes and
paint splatters. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he had slept in them.
His feet were bare, despite the cold season, and his long hair unbound and
unruly. He took her coat.

She followed Eli upstairs and into a sleek, contemporary
interior with modern furniture. The lines were clean and the colour palette
subdued and neutral, in black and tan. It was tasteful and it somehow suited
both D'arcy and Eli.

D'arcy shuffled in from another room, glowing. “Hi. How
are you?” D'arcy leaned across her swollen belly to kiss Kate’s cheek.

“Good, thanks,” she replied, smiling at D’arcy’s glowing
complexion. “You look great.”

“Thanks. I feel pretty good, too.” D'arcy gestured ahead
of her toward the open living area. “Come in, sit down.”

Kate moved toward the glass dining table, and stood,
smiling and waiting for them to join her.

“Cup of tea?” enquired Eli.

“You
own
tea bags?” teased Kate.

“Hm.” He smiled sheepishly. “We knew you were coming,
eh?” It was nice to see him in their comfortable, domestic setting. He seemed
at ease.