Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (14 page)

“She’s gone already. We’re not doing anything wrong
here,” Simon rationalized.

“Yes, I know,” was Kate’s only comment, but she was
worried nonetheless. “What did she say to you, exactly?” she asked, as she
walked back over to the coffee table and piled cups and saucers onto a tray.
Simon followed her and helped pick up dishes.

“Let me,” he said, taking the laden tray from her. “I
can’t figure out her motives.” He stood watching her punch throw cushions and
toss them onto the sofa. She followed him toward the kitchen while he talked.
“On the one hand, we weren’t completely honest about our history. Then she saw
us sitting together at the…” He carried the tray through the kitchen archway
and looked around.

“Put it there,” Kate said, pointing. “But she knew
perfectly well that we didn’t even know we would meet there. She got your
ticket herself, for goodness sake.”

“I know. I can see why she has some suspicions, but I
think the real issue is that I was a bit of an ass with Rachel.” He set the
tray down and looked at her, chagrinned, his lanky frame leaning on the
counter, shoulders hunched. “In any case, she’s not emphasizing the conflict
issue with me. She was always Rachel’s friend; we were never close. Now she
seems to have this notion that I’m in need of her protection and charity. She’s
offering meals and company, as though I were some kind of hopeless recluse.
It’s weird.”

“Ha ha. I’ll just bet,” Kate said, opening the
dishwasher.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon helped her to pile
mugs into the tray.

“I mean… ” she hesitated, standing up.
What the hell?
“I mean, you’re…
uh… quite eligible now. What makes you think she’s offering charity? Maybe she
wants something from
you
.”
She looked at him pointedly. Simon looked up, his eyes wide.

“Aah. Hardly. I’ve known her for years. She’s not
interested in me that way.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe she’s been waiting for an
opening. You’re a nice… man, good looking, professional, why not?”

He stared at her closely. “Thanks, but… Well besides Rachel,
I come with baggage,” he said, his face somber. “And she doesn’t strike me as
the mothering type any more than Rachel is.”

“Are you calling Madison baggage?” She meant to be
teasing, but he seemed intent on taking her seriously.

He turned to place a plate in the lower tray. “You know
what I mean. I adore her, of course. She’s my baby. But having a young kid puts
a damper on your lifestyle.”

“I think the only baggage you’ve got is in your head.
Madison is an asset. She’s a beautiful, sweet little girl. What woman
wouldn’t
want a ready-made
family that includes her?”

He was standing with his back to her. “Including you?”

Kate’s heart pounded in her chest. What did he mean by
that? Probably nothing, she decided in an instant.
Get a grip, Kate!
Play
it down
. “Uh. Sure. I want a family someday. But the point is,
Sharon’s a normal healthy woman, intelligent, attractive even though she comes
across like a tank. And she does know you. I wouldn’t rule out that
possibility. Are you interested in her?”

The sound that emitted from him was more gurgle than
giggle. “No.” He said with clear emphasis, and paused. “Anyway, I don’t know.
Her tactics seem a bit aggressive for seduction.” He shuddered, his mouth
twisting. “She scares me, actually.” He was absentmindedly picking crumbs from
the muffin tin that lay on the counter and nibbling them.

“I’ll bet,” Kate laughed too. “She does lack a certain
something.”

“Ye-ah. Like warm blood.”

Laughing, she piled her muffin tin and a few odd utensils
into the kitchen sink, and wiped the crumbs from the counter, wondering, for
the first time, how long he was planning to hang around. “Are you hungry?”

Simon shrugged, scowling slightly, as though he hadn’t
thought of it yet. Then, on cue, his stomach growled loudly. Colour rushed up
to his face and neck. “Apparently,” he apologized. “Why don’t we nip out for
something? I’ll buy you a sandwich.”

“I’ve got a pot of homemade soup, if you’re interested,”
she offered, lifting her brows in question. It would do no harm to offer him
lunch, she rationalized. His face lit up.

He raised an unconvincing hand. “I wouldn’t want to
impose, or make you feel… you know… ”

She sighed. “Like you said, no one’s watching. And it’s
only soup. It’s easier to eat at home in this neighbourhood. There are a few
lunch places, but they’re mediocre and I get pretty bored with them.” She
opened the fridge and hauled out a big pot, setting it on the range and
lighting it.

He stood watching her. “Do you enjoy cooking?” he asked
after a moment.
Is he just making
idle conversation or am I being interviewed?

“I like it well enough. A person has to eat, after all.
And you can’t eat in restaurants every day.” She pulled out a wooden stir spoon
and opened the lid.

“You seem so… domestic,” he commented. “You remind me of
my mother.”

She looked at him askance. “Thanks a lot! That’s not so
bad, is it?” She grimaced, backpeddling. “Being domestic, I mean. I couldn’t
say about your mother.” She turned to the sink, feeling a hot and cold tingling
tickle her spine and the back of her neck.
What
an idiot!

He blinked at her, as though really considering the
question. She squirmed under his penetrating blue gaze. He drew a breath and
said, “No. I’m sorry. I meant it as a compliment. It’s different than what I’m
used to, that’s all.”

“You don’t cook, yourself, then?”

“I do, actually, quite a bit. I have to obviously, with
Maddie. But Rachel didn’t. Not ever. Not even an egg.” He laughed softly, his
scorn reflected in his expression.

Kate could well imagine that. She couldn’t picture that
statuesque, elegant woman in the kitchen with an apron. “So you assumed kitchen
duties in the family, then?” She stirred the soup slowly.

“Mmm. I guess. I was always competent as a bachelor. You
know, burgers and spaghetti, that sort of thing. But once Maddie came along, I
pretty much had to take care of everything domestic. That was the deal.” He
seemed to ponder a moment, leaning back on the counter with his arms folded
across his chest. “The nanny helped, for a few years. But since Rachel left, I
guess I’ve spent more time at home. And honestly, I wouldn’t see friends if I
didn’t have dinner parties. So I’ve been learning, experimenting. I think I’m a
pretty decent cook now.”

“You don’t go out much? Get a sitter sometimes?” Kate
prodded, curious how curtailed his life seemed to be.

He sighed, his face tight. “Maddie’s family life is
already so dysfunctional, I don’t like to leave her with strangers. She stays
with my folks sometimes, and with my brother, when he’s between girlfriends,”
he laughed. “But I haven’t found someone yet that she’s really comfortable
with. The nanny’s only been gone a few months, so we’re still adjusting. That
smells really good.”

She stirred the soup once more, bending forward to sniff
the fragrant steam emerging from the pot. She scooped out a spoonful and blew
on it briefly, turning to him and offering him a taste. “Does it need salt, do
you think?”

His eyes widened with pleasure and surprise when he tried
a small spoonful. “No. Wow, is that ever good. What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Leftover garlic roasted chicken, corn,
potato and whatever chowder. I just threw it together.” She opened a cupboard
beside his head and pulled out two bowls, setting them on the counter and
fishing a ladle from a drawer to fill them. “There are some bread buns in
there,” she gestured at another cupboard with the ladle, “Do you mind?” He
didn’t seem fazed by her invitation to help. How refreshing, she thought, to
find a man who really was comfortable in the kitchen. Jay, in particular,
seemed to take it for granted that she’d feed him and serve him. It had always
irked her, foreshadowing other problems down the road. Then she stopped
herself. She wasn’t dating Simon, for goodness sake! Why was she comparing him
to Jay, who was practically her fiancé? Almost. Sort of.

Why did that thought depress her?

After Kate piled the lunch things on the tray, she said,
“If you can carry that, I’ll clear a space on the table”

He dug in with gusto once they sat. “This is really
delicious soup,” he said. “And you didn’t use a recipe?”

“No. Soup is a kind of intuitive thing. I have a rough
framework.” She took another spoonful and considered it, shrugging. “So what
did you mean by Sharon wanting to protect you’?”

He frowned, thinking. He broke a bun open, hesitating.
“She seems to think you’re a bit… uh… perhaps mercenary or something. I’m not
sure. I’m reading between the lines.” He smiled across the table at her, his
eyes laughing. “You’re
not
mercenary, are you?”

She didn’t know what to say, shaking her head in
disbelief. Why would Sharon imply that about her? What had she ever done to
her? But then, perhaps her theory was correct. Sharon might be simply fending
off perceived competition. She smiled. “Hardly. I hope she doesn’t make my life
too miserable while she moves in for the kill.”

His eyes widened in mock fear. “Help me, Kate.”

“Are you kidding? I’m keeping well clear of both of you.
I know what’s good for me.” She was joking with him, but hoped he got the
hidden message. She wasn’t about to compromise her career over a careless
flirtation, or allow her attraction to him or her confused memories interfere
with her calm, clear professional management of this case, or her orderly life
for that matter. “You’re on your own, buddy.” She laughed. “More?”

He nodded eagerly and she took his bowl back to the
kitchen to refill it and put the kettle on for tea. When she returned, she
tried to steer the conversation away from their joint problem with Sharon.
She’d find out soon enough what Sharon had planned. They were silent for a few
moments while he ate his seconds. She was surprised how easy it was to be with
him, all things considered. Even though there remained a gnawing tension in her
gut, almost like stage fright, she couldn’t prevent herself from simply
enjoying his warm, intelligent company. She leaned back, supporting her chin on
one fist.

“Tell me more about Rachel. What went wrong?”

He looked up, his face shutting in a frown and she
instantly regretted overstepping her bounds.
Damn
it, Kate! Always playing the mediator, never just a friend.
A bowl
of soup didn’t grant her access to his deepest secrets.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… ”

“No.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin, shaking his head.
“It’s okay.” He thought for a moment longer, pulling on his chin, mirroring her
pose. She noticed his scratched finger for the first time, and cursed her
psychotic cat.

He began to tell his story.

The brilliant legal mind, sexy body and intense, vibrant
ambition that so excited him in grad school turned out to be his undoing. He
fell head over heels in love with Rachel, convinced her to marry him right out
of school, and then …

“I was so naïve. I don’t know what I expected.” There was
no honeymoon. Just work, work, and more work. And when Rachel did play, she
played hard. Like she was running from something, though it took him a few
years to find out what it was. He felt that she never made the kind of
commitment to their marriage that he had. She was aloof and emotionally
alienating. There was always more time for her male colleagues than for him. He
scowled, remembering. Kate had the impression that Rachel did more than just
work with her colleagues.

He related how beautiful she had been. At least he’d
thought so. “My ideal woman,” he said with scorn in his voice. But over the
years, her vanity and shallowness grew. The diets, the implants, the dyed hair,
the over-plucked brows, the collagen injections. All the expensive designer
clothes and jewelry. She was perfect, he’d thought, and became, step by
inexorable step, grotesque. “I only gradually came to understand how hopelessly
insecure she is.”

“But she truly is a beautiful, elegant woman.”

“I guess, on the surface. I came to see her true nature,
which was in fact monstrous. I couldn’t get close to her. She looked like a
runway model, but she felt like a mannequin.” Kate felt so sorry for him, his
face was tightly lined, and his gaze turned inward.

“Rachel resented Maddie’s existence the moment she got
pregnant, which was an accident, of course. I had to literally beg her to keep
the baby. She was horrified at the idea of being a mother. She… got worse.” He
hesitated. “You see… Rachel’s family was… how can I say it.” He groped at the
air for words, a deep sadness reflected in his eyes. “Her father was very
powerful and distant, and emotionally abusive, toward her mom anyway. And her
mother took refuge in her imagined illnesses, her valium and sleeping pills.
She wasn’t there for Rachel either. Rachel grew up watching her cower and
shrivel and grow fat. Rachel’s spent her life grasping at both the kind of
power and freedom she imagined her father and her older brothers enjoyed, and
at the same time trying to be beautiful and glamorous enough to deserve the
love she so desperately needed. She’s never satisfied. Having Maddie seemed to
push her over the edge. Her on-and-off anorexia developed into bulimia, her
obsessions and fears grew, she pushed us away. She’s been hiding behind that
façade for so long now, I don’t know if she’ll ever find her way out.” Simon’s
eyes were distant, glassy. “I kept hoping… ”

Kate listened in silent horror. No wonder he was so
devastated by their separation, and so frustrated by her neglect of Maddie. She
felt tears burning at her eyelids and at the back of her throat. “Has she been
in therapy?” Surely with therapy Rachel could have been saved, along with their
family, if only something had been done earlier.