Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (33 page)

She drifted to the kitchen and browsed through menu
ideas. It wasn’t that she’d decided one way or the other, but she ought to be
prepared, just in case.
Oh. Who am
I kidding? I
want
to
see him. Of course I do.
She wanted to spend that longed-for quiet
time with him, all alone, away from prying eyes. She ached for it. Therein lay
the trouble. Longing for Simon became an obsession, an illness that had
debilitated her. She couldn’t allow herself to want him and not feel somehow
that it was a weakness, a dependency. How could she trust herself?

She opened the fridge and stared with indifference at its
contents, her sight turned inward. But perhaps that was the answer. Since he
insisted on spending time with her, she might as well indulge herself. If she
focused on being objective, the illusion would undoubtedly pale. She was no
longer a naïve nineteen-year-old girl. She would be able to see him for himself:
just an ordinary man. She might even get bored or irritated, like she had with
other men. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the solution
to her dilemma. An antidote. As long as she didn’t get carried away, and as
long as she didn’t lead him on, of course. That would be dishonorable. She had
to stay cool. Observant, open, but cool. Yes, that was it. It would be a kind
of test. She felt her shoulders relax, and looked forward to the evening with a
new sense of resolve.

After running out to shop and stopping for a quick lunch,
she hurried home to prepare dinner. There was barely enough time left for a
shower and change of clothes. Her gut told her he’d arrive around seven, though
they hadn’t specified a time.

She stood in her faded jeans and bra and nodded at her
favourite pretty blue and violet sweater on the bed. There was no need to dress
up and yet she wanted to look nice. Nice, but not sexy. Well, not too sexy. But
not frumpy.
Crazy woman
.
Her hair was barely dry, and she just managed to dash on a little make up when
the buzzer sounded. Her heart pounded as she looked at the red numerals on the
alarm clock beside her bed. Six fourty-four. She pushed the button to unlock
the door; her stomach knotted and she felt a bloom of perspiration on her
freshly washed skin. Irritably, she applied more deodorant and a spritz of
cologne for good measure and yanked the sweater on, buttoning its dozen tiny
buttons with trembling fingers. A quick glance in the mirror to assess the
results revealed wide anxious eyes and tight drawn lips. Pacing and wringing
her hands like the accused before the jury’s verdict for the four or five
minutes it took him to arrive upstairs, she forced herself to take
pranayama
breaths, trying to
bring back the focus of her morning yoga and her earlier sense of purpose. But
now she just felt agitated and excited.

Opening the door at his tap, she found… “Jay?”
Oh. My. God!

He hunkered in the door, lifting his arms in appeal.
“Hey, Kate." He took a tentative step forward and exhaled with force.
"Wow, it's good to lay eyes on you.”

“What are you doing here?”

He walked past her, his eyes narrowed. “Were you
expecting someone else?”

She went rigid. “You shouldn’t be here.” She bit her lip.
How quickly could she get rid of him? He stopped at the hall table, lifted a
book, fingering its spine, and turned around to face her.

“I want to apologize for pressuring you. I’ve been
thinking—”

The door buzzer sounded loudly and she flinched, the hair
on the back of her neck prickling.
Oh
God Oh God Oh God!
This was not good. Kate stood indecisively in the
doorway, her eyes flitting between Jay and the empty hall, wishing she could
disappear.

"You are expecting someone," Jay said,
scowling. He set down the book.

Moments later, Simon bounced to the top step, wearing his
sheepskin coat, both hands behind his back, his face flushed. He strode to the
open door and offered her one of his lopsided, bashful grins, and she thought,
Calm down
! of her rapidly
beating heart. He definitely got very high marks for unassuming charm and just
plain breath-stopping handsomeness. She couldn’t help but return his shy smile.
She shot a nervous glance at Jay, standing now with his brows knit, realization
dawning.

“Hope I’m not too late… or early?” Simon said from the
doorway, unaware of Jay’s presence.

“Hi. No, well, maybe a little.” She backed away, her
heart pounding.

His eyes were cast down as he spoke. “I know this isn’t
technically a… er… date, but I brought a bottle of wine for dinner, and— ” one
arm swung around, presenting a brown paper bag choked by his leather gloved
hand, “—and this doesn’t count as flowers, since it’s so close to Christmas,”
his other arm presented a freckled pink potted poinsettia. He stole a cautious
glance up into her eyes and she found a twinkle of mischief there.
Oh God. What am I going to do now?

Laughing nervously into his eyes, she said, “Riiiight.
Thank you.” Her eyes flicked to Jay, who stood rigidly, his face darkening.

Simon was looking down at the floor again, or rather,
following his gaze, at her feet. They were bare, and she had thankfully had a
pedicure. “Charming,” he said to her pale pink toenails, which wiggled
self-consciously, and his smile returned. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I… uh, sure. There’s just…” She looked at Jay
desperately, drawing her lips between her teeth. The contrast between the heavy
sense of dread Jay’s arrival had brought, and this thrill of excitement now as
she regarded Simon was marked, and she could hardly conceal it. Poor Jay!

Jay shrugged ominously and stepped forward, his jaw
tight.

Simon looked up then and saw him, stopping short, his
shock and confusion evident.

"Oh! I–"

Oh, God, no! Her scalp tingled. She turned to see Jay’s
handsome, chiseled face arrested in a muddled expression of concern, confusion,
hurt and irritation.

“What’s… ” His dark eyes pulled away and locked in
astonishment on their target. If looks could kill, she thought.

“Jay…" she hissed. She could try to explain either
or both of them away, but who was she kidding? She faced Simon. “Jay just
stopped by… unannounced. He’s leaving now.”

Simon stepped through the door, his jaw hard, his
unwavering blue eyes as cold as ice. “Are you alright?” He set the wine and
poinsettia down on the oak hall table with a solid thunk, his hands lingering
on them, his eyes sliding back to Jay’s. “Good evening,” he said, a tight smile
pulling at his cheeks. His head swung in her direction. “If this is a bad time,
I can—”

Kate swallowed hard, looking from Simon to Jay and back
again. Their eyes were fused in a silent dual, shooting daggers and unspoken
threats.

She had to say something. This was unbearable. “Uh,
Simon? I’ve told you about Jay. Jay, this is Simon.” She laid one hand lightly
on Simon’s arm, claiming him. “He’s just arrived for dinner.” The explanation
felt pathetic, and Kate reeled at the tension in the room. “Jay is…” she
stopped, uncertain what to call him.

“The man who hopes to marry Kate,” he said grimly, his
eyes unwavering.

“Jay, please. We’ve…we ended our relationship.” She shook
her head slowly, her throat thickening. “Please don’t—”

“Don’t what, Kate?” His gaze met hers darkly, and she
cowered under his accusing glare. “What’s going on here, exactly?”

“It’s none of your business anymore. Please leave.” Kate
fought to stop her chin from trembling.

There was no sense dissembling. Jay had to understand.
She held her breath and lifted her chin, her eyes on Jay’s face, as his dark
hazel eyes flitted from her face to Simon’s again and again in disbelief. She
could see the veins pulsing in Jay’s temple and a hollow twitch in Simon’s
tightly clenched jaw. Her blood roared in her ears, drowning out all sounds but
the rapid drumbeat of her pulse. It felt to her as if an hour passed.

Finally, thankfully, she saw resignation and acceptance
dawn on Jay’s face. He squared his jaw and jutted his chin, a cool, knowing
expression settling into his eyes like a shroud and she felt him withdraw from
her emotionally, as though he’d constructed a wall around himself, brick by
brick, as they stood there by the door. She felt her heart squeeze painfully in
sympathy, like a cold hand tightening around it. He didn’t deserve this
humiliation. He’d been a wonderful friend and lover to her. He’d done his best.
It just hadn’t been enough.

“Congratulations, Simon. You’ve won yourself a grand
prize indeed.” Jay reached out a hand toward Simon, ever the gentleman, though
his chauvinistic words irritated Kate while they attempted to compliment.

Simon’s eyes narrowed, still holding Jay’s steady gaze
without flinching. He didn’t take Jay’s offered hand.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Jay said to Kate,
tight-lipped. He turned and went out the door without another word, without
another glance in Kate’s direction.

Several tense moments passed after Kate silently closed
the door on the sound of Jay's footsteps retreating down the stairs. She
ventured a look toward Simon’s face. “I’m sorry. He just dropped in. Terrible
timing.”

Kate watched Simon slip out of his coat and hang it up.
His trim, broad-shouldered frame was accentuated by a fine grey cashmere crew
neck sweater. She realized she was ogling the contours of muscle on his arms
and back, and pulled her admiring eyes away.

He stepped forward and wrapped her in a warm hug,
squeezing and releasing her, stepping back to dip his head and study her
expression. He peered at her, unspoken questions in his shadowed blue eyes.

Her breath was still shaky. “I need a drink.”

“Yeah, I imagine. Try that. I’m sorry if it doesn’t go
with your food. It’s an Australian cab-sauv.”

“That will be perfect. It’s Italian. The food I mean.
I’ll get the opener.” She was grateful for something to do, and took the bottle
in a bag to the kitchen. She popped the eggplant Parmigianino into the
preheated oven while she was there, ditched the bag and carried the wine and
opener back to the table. She was twitchy again, despite her best efforts to
stay calm, and fumbled with the wine opener, unable to coordinate her trembling
hands.

Simon sidled up and gently covered her hands with his,
pulling the wine and opener from her, deftly opening the bottle and pouring
into the glasses, then set the bottle down and handed her one glass. She smiled
awkwardly and gestured toward the sofa and he led the way.

He chose a seat that faced her massive Christmas tree,
tilting his head back to take in the lights and sparkling ornaments that
climbed up to its lofty peak. She was grateful not to have to meet his eyes.

“I can’t remember if you told me how you got this monster
in here.”

She laughed softly. “I have a couple of strapping young
contractors that help me out.”

He raised a suggestive eyebrow at that. “I’m glad you
didn’t say Jay.”

She lowered her eyes. She wasn’t ready to explain. She
hadn’t expected Jay to turn up, or to put up a fight. It had shaken her up.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kate swallowed salt, feeling tears stinging the back of
her eyes. “Not really.” Her voice shook. She shook her head to clear it.
“I…he’s having trouble dealing with the break up. I really hurt…” her chin
trembled, and she stopped. “I’m sorry.” She covered her face with her hand.

His fingertips stroked her hair gently, soothing.

“I’m really sorry to have put you in that position.”

She sniffed, getting control. “It was only partly you. It
had to happen anyway. But he really is a decent guy.”

He looked back at her tree. “You put all those lights and
things up yourself?”

“Of course.” She smiled, grateful at the change of
subject. It was just another example of Simon’s sensitivity, in contrast to
Jay’s self-centeredness. She didn’t want to compare him to Jay, but the thought
pushed itself into her consciousness anyway. “It’s ambitious, I know, but it’s
worth it. It’s my favourite part of the holidays. I could forego the rest, just
for the lights.”

Simon grunted. “Food’s important too, though. Wouldn’t be
the same without the food.” His blue eyes twinkled with humor.

“You’re quite the foodie, aren’t you?” She smiled. It was
a natural introduction to a conversation about their respective family
traditions, and anecdotes collected over the years. Soon the encounter with Jay
was all but forgotten, and they were laughing together. He got more high marks
for being a warm and easy conversationalist, and for not pushing her on the
subject of Jay. They always seemed to fall naturally into a comfortable
camaraderie. There was nothing forced or uptight or false about their times together.

Simon cleared his throat, compelling her to turn and look
at him questioningly. “Now that the case is over...” he said. Kate’s stomach
fluttered with a surge of panic. “What’s been happening with Sharon’s claim?”

She released her breath in a flood of relief. Kate filled
him in, explaining how her mentor at the Justice Institute was probably
responsible for avoiding a full hearing. She quite consciously left out the
part about Rose being the one who counseled her through the roughest patches in
the past. There was nothing Rose didn’t know about Kate. That was one reason
this episode with Simon becoming public was so humiliating for her. She sighed
heavily. “I suppose I should be grateful. I expect I’ll hear from them before
Christmas. I hope so anyway. It’s killing me, the waiting.”

Simon reached to gently push the hair from her eyes with
a finger. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. And I’m really sorry for my
part in it. But I have a good feeling about it.”