Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (34 page)

Kate prayed he was right, but she couldn’t be so
confident. She sighed and rose. “I’d better check the oven.” Almost an hour had
passed, and yet it felt like mere minutes. She was trying to keep her cool, but
instead it felt as though she were being carried on a bed of clouds, her feet
not quite touching the ground.

Simon’s voice carried in to her. “Do you mind if I put on
some music?”

“No, go ahead. Whatever you want.” Moments later, the
joyful twang Cindy Church singing “It’s Christmas” from her Quartette disc
floated onto the air. Oh! He’d chosen her favourite Christmas album. But that
meant nothing, of course; it had been on top of the pile.

“That’s nice. Dinner’s almost ready.” Her voice sounded
thin and reedy in her ears. Kate stole a moment alone in the kitchen, trying to
sooth herself. She wet a tea towel, and dabbed its cool edge on her temples and
on the back of her neck. This wasn’t going according to plan at all. Not only
was Simon being a perfect, kind, adorable, and sexy gentleman but
she
was a wreck! Not at all the
cool objective critic of his shortcomings she’d planned to be.

She strode to the table, setting down a large bowl of
salad, and lit the candles, hoping Simon didn’t see her unsteady hands.

He was beside her. “Do you always eat by candlelight?”
His voice was warm and teasing.

The familiar lines from another Christmas song wove
themselves into her consciousness with images of cold winter weather, and a
couple alone together. She felt the heat of his body next to her arm, and
willed herself to stay calm. “I do actually. Even when I’m alone. It stops me
from snarfing my food.” She laughed, and cringed inwardly at the nearly
hysterical note she heard.

“You’re quite the romantic.” He was facing her, but she
resolutely examined the table setting, correcting the placement of forks and
napkins as the lyrics of the song painted a picture of lovers spending a winter
night embracing by a fire.

“You are too, I think,” she ventured. Her stomach
fluttered with nerves, and she gripped the back of a chair for support.

“You know I am.” She felt his hand on her shoulder. He
turned her to face him, and she forced herself to look serenely up into his
face. His look was kindness itself, not threatening, and yet the heat that lay
beneath his tender expression caused his eyes to blaze. He brought his knuckles
up to caress her cheek. It was an incredibly intimate gesture that threatened
to turn her knees to butter. “Thanks for doing this.”

There was nothing she could do to alter his course. Not
that she wanted to. Her arms and legs were petrified, and she could feel a
tremor surging upward and through her, ready to take down her foundation and
topple her. She was held captive in a trance while a part of her observed his
face bend close to hers. She wondered if her pounding heart was visible through
her sweater. Of their own accord, her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his
lips brush softly against hers. She adored his gentle kisses, pent with
controlled passion. There was nothing she could have done to prevent her body
from responding to his touch, feeling herself sway toward him. Sensations
washed over her one by one as heat flooded her body. Her thighs tingled and
tightened, her breasts prickled and warmed, and her breath quickened
alarmingly. Objectively indeed! She had a very powerful bias toward this man,
and couldn’t imagine ever becoming bored or irritated by him. He wrapped an arm
around her back and pulled her closer.

But
,
a voice inside her head shouted,
This
is not what you want!
She forced herself to pull away from his
embrace, shaking her head. Is it? Wordlessly, her unsteady legs carried her to
the kitchen to retrieve their dinner before it burned. When she returned with
the Parmigianino, he hadn’t moved, and stood considering her with a quizzical
expression, his head tilted slightly.

“
Parmigiano
de melanzane
,” she announced in a quavering voice as she set the
steaming hot dish down on the table. At least she knew she could distract him
with food—for a while.

“Lucky me,” he exclaimed, eyeing it with interest. Was
that a hint of sarcasm in his tone?

“I’ll be right back with the bread.” When Kate returned,
Simon had refilled their wine glasses and stood poised behind his chair,
waiting for her to sit. She almost overturned the breadbasket as she set it
down and recovering, moved to her chair. She smoothed her hair with fluttering
hands. “Please, sit down.”

They both sat. She offered him bread, and he helped
himself, breaking it and eating it slowly, sipping his wine and gazing at her
overlong, his eyes serious though that private amused smile lurked just below
the surface. She felt her cheeks grow very warm, and busied herself to avoid
looking directly at him. Kate served them both, and then raised her glass. “
Buon appetito
.”
I’m behaving like a ditz
, she
observed critically. He’ll think I’m a fool.

The corners of his lips quirked up and he raised his
eyebrows and dug in. He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face and went
back for another forkful, and another, before stopping. “This is amazing. It’s
the best I’ve ever tasted.”

She couldn’t help beaming in pride, her chest expanding,
and her face stretching in a grin. “You exaggerate.”

“I do not. You’ve found the key to my heart. Between your
muffins and this, I’m determined to have ten children with you.”

She looked up sharply, the heat rushing to her cheeks.
“You’re joking. What a thing to say.”

He smiled roguishly. “I may be embellishing, but I’m not
joking really, no.”

Her smile failed her while her mind whirled desperately.
Was he just teasing her? How could she remain objective under such an onslaught?
If she wasn’t already hopelessly in love with him, surely she would fall in
love tonight. The effort of holding back her natural responses bled her. She
felt her breathing come short and shallow and her senses throbbed like
something soft and alive, some pulsing organism, a sea anemone perhaps. She
wouldn’t get through the evening at this rate, she felt so lightheaded. She had
to break the tension, move, change something. She grabbed the salad bowl and
thrust it at Simon. “Salad?”

Simon took the bowl from her with a wry smile. “Thanks.”

He seemed to sense her anxiety. They passed the remainder
of dinner without further propositions or flattery. Instead, Simon ate
heartily, and artfully steered the conversation toward D'arcy and Eli, and how
they were doing on their own, together again.

When they’d finished eating, they sat awhile, staring at
each other. She still felt tense, but better, easier than that paralyzing
moment earlier. After a few awkward minutes of fidgeting, she gathered the
dishes, and he sat, following her movements with his eyes, but otherwise
sitting perfectly still, his fingertips steepled in front of his chin. He was
very cat-like, and she imagined him patiently eyeing his prey, his tail
swishing. She detected a hint of a smile teasing one corner of his mouth.

Stopping, she gazed at him, questioning. “And just what
makes you think there is any desert?” She couldn’t help but smile.

He broke into a grin. “I know you. And moreover, you know
me.” His eyes had darkened to indigo and were twinkling with humour.

She shook her head, suppressing a smile. “Might I suggest
you take a breather, after three helping of dinner? Perhaps in a few minutes
you’ll be able to do justice to the p-i-e.”

He lifted his eyebrows, nodding, a smile playing at the
corners of his mouth, and finally stood to help her clear the dishes. Ooh. How
could he be so annoyingly cool and coy at the same time? He was torturing her.
After tidying up and putting away the leftovers they took the remaining wine
and sat together on the sofa again, contemplating the tree. Kate really wanted
to dim the room lights and bask in the twinkling multi-coloured glow of the
Christmas tree, but she knew it would seem too… well, just too.

Apparently, he needed no such encouragement, for Simon
slipped his arm comfortably around her shoulders and they continued sitting
quietly gazing at the tree. Holding herself back from sinking into his embrace,
Kate was anything but quiet on the inside, although part of her wanted to relax
and relish the moment. Staying cool was proving to be impossible. So far she
was ranging from very warm to sizzling hot. Her neck and shoulder were on fire
with the touch of his arm, making her efforts to appear nonchalant ridiculous
as she took a sip of her wine. Naturally, she dribbled wine over her chin, and
had to wipe it away, gasping in embarrassment.

He shifted his weight and she froze. “Tell me something.”
She could feel his soft warm breath against her hair, and knew he had turned to
face her. She felt her breath catch, waiting for him to continue. He reached
toward her face and gently wiped a spot on her chin. “Can you honestly explain
to me why we should not keep on doing this ‘til the end of time?”

Kate’s eyes were drawn to his like magnets. She felt as
though he could see into the depths of her soul, and know her darkest secrets,
though with her mind she knew this was not so. She made a feeble attempt to
diffuse the tension by laughing, saying, “You mean gaze at the Christmas tree
and slobber wine down our selves?”

He withheld his smile. “Don’t try to hide from me, Kate.
You keep negating our feelings. I came here to sort this out.”

She was incapable of speech, robbed of breath. Her eyes
slid over his shoulder.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel the same
way.”

She did as he asked, and knew he could see both her
fierce love, and her naked fear.

“I know you’re afraid. But I don’t really understand
why?”

She shook her head and felt her lip quiver with the tears
that choked her and pricked at her eyes.

He reached for her face again, but this time he cupped
her cheek softly in the palm of his large hand, caressing her with his thumb,
gently wiping away a fugitive tear. “I’ve fallen in love with you. With my eyes
wide open.” He shrugged helplessly, dropping his hand. “Perhaps unfortunately
for you, this time I’m not afraid of what that means. I want to love you
completely and forever, and somehow we can’t even get started. I’m very
frustrated, trying to understand. Please, let me, Kate.” His voice broke on his
last beseeching words and she could see the lights of the Christmas tree
reflected in his glistening eyes. “Is it Jay?”

Oh, how she wanted to surrender to his love! Kate felt
every cell of her being yearning for him, reaching, electrified, aching. What
would life be like with Simon there beside her, every day and always? “Oh,
Simon, I… ” She didn’t know what to say. How could she explain to him her
convoluted fears? “It’s not Jay. He… he asked me to marry him, but… ” She shook
her head, realized how unfair it was to have held on to him. “It wasn’t meant
to be.”

“Tell me then…”

Kate raised her left hand to knead her furrowed brow. “I
want to believe you.”

“You don’t? You don't think you're worthy of my love?”

She cringed. “I know you’re sincere. I mean I know you
believe it.” She licked her lips, praying for the right words. “I don’t really
know what you’re looking for, and…” She chewed her lip. “…and I really don’t
know what I need.” She paused in response to the look of hurt on his face. “No.
Don’t take that the wrong way. I want to be honest with you. There have been
plenty of very nice men in my life, even those declaring their love for me, and
no matter what happens, I always find, in the end, I spoil it. I can’t give my
self completely to them, however much I admire them. ”

"How is it you've brought so many men to their
knees?" His lips pressed into a straight line. “And always end up alone?”

“My heart is guarded. It’s damaged.” She clenched her
fist, then opened her hand toward him. “But you’re different. I want to give it
to you, Simon. I really do. This time.” Why did she add those last words? It
was as though some devilish part of her wished to drag every ugly fact of her
past out to show him, inviting him to examine and prod her wounds, like some
soft creatures in a tide pool. “I’m…” she shrugged “…afraid.”

“What is it? You don’t trust me?” She became aware that
his back was up. His mood took on a sharper edge, and she could feel his
exasperation mounting.

She shook her head. “I don’t trust myself. I don’t want
to need you too much. I feel I'll lose myself. The life that I've built.”

“Is that why you throw yourself into your work? At what
cost? Maybe if you accepted love in your life, and trusted me to be here for
you, you could relax about your career instead of driving yourself so hard.”

She could only stare at his face, frowning. Every thing
that he said resonated, each piece straining to fit into a whole explanation.
He was trying so hard to understand her. But what could she tell him? How could
she explain?

Simon gazed at her, his eyes remote, shifting, seeming to
deliberate for several beats. He paused, the muscles in his jaw working, his
eyes on the tree. “You don't make sense. I don’t want to push you, Kate. I can
give you as much time as you need. But I have to see more of you. We have to
give this a chance. Whatever is bothering you, we can work through it, or…” He
jerked his shoulder abruptly. “…learn to live with it.” He didn’t seem
overjoyed with this last option. “Just don't kick me to the curb out of fear.
Please.”

Kate was overcome with guilt and grief. He truly was a
wonderful, kind and caring man. How could she explain that the problem was her,
not him. She chose her words carefully and forced herself to say them, despite
the knifing pain she felt in her heart. “It’s not your fault, Simon. You
deserve to be with someone whole. It isn’t fair to continue dating you until
I’ve dealt with my own baggage. It might be easier… better to work things out
with Rachel. She can’t be any crazier than me.” She choked back a sob.