Leaning heavily on the bathroom vanity, Kara looked back and forth between the two women. No way in hell was she getting in the shower and letting her mother and Samantha, of all people, clean her up. If this day hadn’t been humiliating enough, the thought of having her sexy sister-in-law see her naked, much less in the company of her mom… “No! I mean…I can manage on my own.”
“Like hell, you can,” Samantha said in a peeved tone. She stood with her arms crossed.
Kara couldn’t help but wonder if she used this demeanor in court. It was certainly intimidating. “Can we wait for the nurse?”
“No,” her mother stated clearly. “We most certainly cannot and neither can you. Now stop being so ridiculous. We’re all women here.”
“No, please?” She was begging even though she had no idea how she could shift her weight far enough to move from the counter to the shower without falling down.
Her legs were visibly shaking when a third person moved up behind her, wrapping a reassuring arm around her waist. “I can help her. Let me do this,” she suggested, adding, “I’m wondering if we should change her sheets too? She did sweat up a storm last night.”
Kara stood frozen and confused. Could it be? She had been expecting Joanne to make her presence known at any moment, but this wasn’t Joanne. Still a little woozy, forcing her eyes open, she concentrated on the arm and hand ever so gently pressed against her abdomen. She recognized the bracelet on her wrist. It was the petite Amulette de Cartier she had given Madeleine. Lifting her head, she took in the scene around her. Staring at her own reflection in the mirror, she caught the tableau of the three other women. The mother, the sister, and the lover. Were they lovers? She locked eyes with Madeleine’s reflection and held the connection while she sensed more than heard her mother and her sister-in-law leave to attend to the suggested duties.
It was hard to keep her balance, even with Madeleine’s sturdy hold. The shaking continued as waves of nausea rolled through her. “I… You…” She struggled to form a coherent thought. Resigning, she focused her concentration on staying on her feet and not throwing up again. It was the last thing she wanted Madeleine to see. She had no idea when Madeleine had arrived. For all she knew, she had already witnessed her morning performance.
“I know you’re confused and you probably want to talk,” Madeleine said reassuringly.
Kara listened to the soft voice drifting into her ears. The result was so reassuring she couldn’t recall what it was she wanted to talk about. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered she might want to be mad at Madeleine. There was some nagging thing, but right now she could hardly care. If she had to shower, she would certainly rather do it with Madeleine. Still, she was embarrassed and shy. Embarrassed thinking, We hardly know each other. Yes, we’ve slept together. Connected. And so much more. But this was hardly a thing she would ask a new lover to do just weeks after meeting.
“Hey, you. I see your face. You don’t need to be like that, Kara. It’s just me. Besides, I think you’ll recall, we’ve already done the shower thing together?”
Kara managed a small grin.
“Good. That’s what I thought.” Still, her tone was gentle and light. She stripped out of her own clothes, folding them neatly and piling them on the toilet seat before starting the shower and adjusting the water temperature. Kara listened while she moved about the bathroom. Now she was back behind her, slowly removing the sweat-soaked T-shirt and shorts she’d been wearing as pajamas. Stripped bare, Kara shuddered at the sensation of Madeleine’s arm slowly wrapping around her middle. Even though her touch was gentle, she braced to be pulled into the shower. Instead, Madeleine moved slowly, deliberately wrapping both arms around her and embracing her from behind. In the mirror, she could see their reflection as Madeleine began kissing her shoulder and neck.
Then she halted her progress, telling her plainly, “You’re all I’ve been thinking about. God, I miss the feel of you in my arms.”
Still supporting her weight with her arms, Kara began the difficult task of turning around. When she finally rested her bottom against the counter, she was able to remove one hand then the other, allowing the vanity and Madeleine to support her weight. She wanted to look up into her eyes, to stare at that face, to see what she needed to see, but tilting her head instantly increased her nausea. Instead, she rested her head on Madeleine’s shoulder. The connection gave her comfort and strength.
Finally breaking the hug, Madeleine moved her carefully into the shower. She was cautious and tender but wasted no time getting her cleaned up, dried off, and into the dry sleepwear someone had set out. When they emerged from the bathroom. Kara was relieved to find the nurse had arrived. The sooner she got her poking and probing done, the sooner she would leave, and she could get some rest.
Back in her own bed, she drifted off while the nurse and the other women discussed her medication and other concerns. It didn’t matter to her. They could decide whatever they liked today. Tomorrow she’d be back on her feet. Then, she would decide what was best for her and her injuries. All this care was a little much. Closing her eyes, she could admit she didn’t understand the fuss. It wasn’t like she’d suffered a near-death experience or even life threatening injuries. Still, she would discuss it with Madeleine. Yes, Madeleine would know what to do. She’s a dancer and dancers are athletes, extreme athletes of a sort. She’ll know what to do. When the pain pills finally knocked her out, she slept peacefully knowing Madeleine was there.
Chapter Eighteen
Madeleine had allowed Joanne to drag her out for the afternoon. She hadn’t wanted to leave Kara’s side, but with a surplus of caregivers, she had no good excuse to demur. Besides, Kara was asleep and still deeply sedated. In a way, it was a blessing. While she slept, she would heal. Madeleine’s only hope was that when she woke, she would want to talk or at least listen.
The afternoon had been otherwise interesting. She and Joanne had joined Marsha Wexler for the festivities at the yacht club. Madeleine had been nervous, even a little intimidated when they boarded the water taxi for the private club across the harbor. She needn’t have been. If anything, the last ten years in Vegas had taught her more about people than a bucketful of degrees would have done. She easily divided the club’s patrons into three groups, putting Marsha Wexler and her cronies in the authentics box. There were a few she would classify as has-beens, and the rest were wannabes. All pretty normal in her book. The interesting aspect was watching Marsha and her friends. They were authentic as in authentically wealthy and generous individuals. They were the kind of men and women most interested in providing a hand up, not a handout. They believed in people and wanted to see the best in them. To rise to the height of their God-given talents. To them, desire, skill, and work ethic meant more than birth and position. The wannabes on the other hand, were quick to judge, and fast to dismiss. Fast, as in faster than light speed. Some of these less than authentic individuals, she was sad to notice, were friends of Joanne’s. Jo would introduce her with great enthusiasm. Madeleine, however, wasn’t fooled. She would see the chill in their eyes, the way they would give her a look over, taking in her clothing and asking her questions about her investment strategies and the clubs of which she was a member as if that would measure her actual worth.
As soon as the awards had been given out, Marsha linked arms with her, whispering quietly, “Let’s get out of here. I’m in no mood for the phony baloneys today.” That was heartwarming. That, and the kind of conversation she enjoyed on the ferry trip back across the harbor. Marsha refused to take the water taxi, which infuriated Joanne. “There is no need to be so bourgeois,” Marsha explained. “Look, the ferry is almost at the dock. By the time we walk over there, they’ll be boarding. We’ll be across the harbor faster than the water taxi can get here. Besides, taking the ferry always makes me nostalgic.”
And it had. Marsha had hooked her arm, strolling with her to the upper deck and taking a place at the forward rail. “I love this city,”
she said. Pointing to the skyline, she reminisced, “When I was a child, none of these condos were here. As a matter fact, the harbor pushed in at least a few hundred yards further toward Front Street. Every year they fill in a little more to build more and every year we lose a little more of the harbor.”
“It actually reminds me of Seattle,” Madeleine offered. “The same sort of ferry boats, lots of traffic in the harbor, even the airplanes flying in and the CN Tower above it all. Except it also has the feel of New York. You know, with the buildings sitting right on the edge of the water. What did it look like when you were a kid?”
“Nothing like this. Just between those tall condos over there is the grand old lady of the lake, the Royal York Hotel. When we were children, it dominated the skyline. In the West End over there by the airport,” she pointed, “the Tip Top Tailors Building and the Victory Soy Towers marked the west entrance of the harbor. The grain towers are long gone. And the historic buildings just seem to be swallowed up between condos and office towers. At least they haven’t been able to tear them all down. I’m proud of Kara for her little bit of maintaining history.”
“Her building you mean?”
“Yes, what do you think of it?”
“I… It’s very impressive. I have to admit the upper building, the look of the glass cube perched on top of the old red brick building is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Did she really design it herself?”
“She did. She is a remarkable girl. Headstrong too,” Marsha warned, finally making eye contact. “Are you ready for that?”
“Honestly?” she asked, before taking a long moment to consider the question. “I’m scared shitless. I don’t want her to feel like she’s stuck with me because I’m here but I don’t want to give up either. I just don’t know; what’s the best thing to do?”
“My advice, for what it’s worth,” Marsha said, wrapping a motherly arm around her, “do what’s best for you, first. Kara will respect that. I think you two have a lot to talk about and you will have to be patient. Emotions, feelings, these are things Kara does not do well. You may find you’ll need to give her time. Can you do that?”
Madeleine wanted to shout her affirmative, yes, whatever it takes, but she knew Marsha wanted her to think the situation through. Before she could answer, Marsha launched into a story, and Madeleine immediately knew it was just her way of conveying an important message.
“When Douglas and Kara were children, their father insisted they be enrolled in the summer riding academy. Of course, like everything, that lasted right up until Kara proved to be a better horseman than her brother would ever be. The interesting part of the story is not Kara’s skill on horseback but her comprehension of horses. Those summers, dragging the kids out to Sunnybrook Stables, I learned a tremendous amount about my two eldest children. Kara was much like the sole stallion they kept on hand. Regardless of what the humans thought, he truly believed himself responsible for the whole herd. Now Douglas on the other hand, he was so clearly one of the young geldings. Happy just goofing around in the paddock area and running around with the other boys like a crazy man.
“One afternoon I sat watching the various horses in the separate paddocks. The children, of course, were on the school horses and performing those ridiculous hours of trotting in circles. Well, on this particular day, I lost interest. Forgive me for not being a better mother.”
Madeleine giggled and gave her a little shoulder bump to acknowledge her understanding of the joke.
“Anyhow, bad me. I was watching the geldings, the fixed boy horses instead of my darlings. To be honest, I didn’t know they were boys much less boys sans their family jewels.” This she said with a wicked grin. “It was interesting. This young constable came over to talk.” She elaborated, “The police keep their horses at Sunnybrook too. Anyway, this young cop wanders over to where I’m standing at the rails and sort of translates what’s going on. In the corral next to the geldings were the pregnant and nursing females. Two were blind. He explained how that happened, but I’ve long forgotten. The important takeaway was how the geldings would behave. They were so much like teenage boys. They would wait until these poor mothers and their babies were quiet then sneak up and scare them half to death. They’d then run around like a pack of idiots while these poor beasts cowered around their little ones to protect them. ‘Let’s hope they don’t try that again,’ the officer said, and I thought he was thinking about how hard it was on the mares and the foals. Then he points to the far paddock. The big stallion was watching everything. Sure enough, the geldings start up again. I think it may have been the horse version of calling names in the playground, but that stallion wasn’t going to put up with it. He came right over his fence and then the next and the next until he was in with the geldings. He chased them around that pen finally herding them all into a corner and delivering some serious bites to several rumps.
“It was at that exact moment I realized they were just like Kara and Douglas. Kara was the leader and protector. Nothing would change that. Of course, back then I imagined her the heroine of her own nuclear family. Douglas is still all teenage gelding, incapable of more than charging playfully about. Don’t get me wrong. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that,” she added, but the sadness was there in her voice for the world to hear. “What I learned about horses that day was their selflessness and their need to belong. I’m proud to know all my children fit that description. The difference I’ve come to accept, and what I think you need to understand, is that Kara is more the stallion than we can comprehend. And don’t take that from the male perspective of breeding and sex. It’s about her thinking it’s her job to keep the peace and protect everyone in her herd from everyone outside of it.”
Madeleine knew the woman was waiting for her to make some connection. “And I take it I’m the outside risk?”
She shook her head but remarked, “It’s so hard to tell with that girl. What I can say is she’s hurt and her pride has taken a hard cross-check. The important thing now is to let her know you care and that you can be patient. You can be patient with her, can’t you?”
“To be honest, I don’t know how we move on from here. It isn’t like I live a few blocks down the street. On the other hand, I won’t push her. I won’t be one of those instant partners. I think she’s going to need some time, but I want her to know I’ll be here whenever she needs me. I wasn’t sure I could live here,” she said, looking out over the harbor and watching as the ferry maneuvered into the city docks, “but this is a beautiful place. I was mucking around on my phone earlier. I can’t believe the number of TV and movie production companies shooting here, and that doesn’t even touch the amount of theatre you have.”
“Do you know what you want to do? I mean, Joanne tells me you have experience and talent, on both the production side and performance.”
“Hey,” Joanne interrupted. “Did I hear my name?”
“I expected you to be standing first in line at the gangway gate,” Marsha teased her daughter. She explained to Madeleine, “Jo always prefers getting off the ferry more than getting on. Always in a hurry, this one.”
Turning to include Jo in the conversation, Madeleine answered the question from Marsha as best as she could. “I’ll be honest. I really want to choreograph and maybe in time direct, but I’d take just about any job to get my foot in the door. I am worried about getting a visa or green card, whatever it’s called here. And I won’t put this on Kara.”
“You mustn’t worry about such things but if it makes you feel better, becoming, as we say, ‘landed’ is quite simple for entertainment professionals. I’m sure it will be a straightforward matter with your existing portfolio.” Madeleine felt doubtful, and her face must have given away her skepticism. “Joanne, what is the name of that outrageously funny American actress I so adore? You know, the one who got her start up here with Second City?”
“Andrea Martin?”
“Yes, of course. Andrea Martin. You know her from Saturday Night Liv
e, correct?”
“Actually I do. I didn’t realize she worked up here.”
She nodded, hooking arms with both Madeleine and her daughter. The ferry had completed the docking sequence, and they followed other passengers making their way down the wide staircase and off the extra wide gangway. “I can’t possibly do the story justice, but she has a whole standup routine about coming to Canada. It starts at the airport. That’s where you used to make your application to be landed. Anyway, she jokes about the difficulty of the process. According to her, the entirety of the intake review involves proving you can handle yourself in a canoe. Once she passed that test, at the airport no less, they stamped her application and that was it. She was landed. I wish I had her gift. You should Google it or however you find all those funny videos on the computer.”
Exiting the terminal gate, Madeleine was pleased to see she recognized where they were. Harjitt had dropped them off just a few hundred feet away at the water taxi stand. Now he was waiting, stopped on Queen’s Quay, and holding the door open for them. She was a little disappointed. It was a beautiful day, and the lake and lakefront were gorgeous. The wide boulevard was bustling with tourists and invited a leisurely stroll. She could see her and Kara taking that turn. Walking hand in hand, past the galleries, marinas, and open spaces. Oblivious to the people, and only aware of each other and the perfect summer day.
“Madeleine, dear, please don’t fret. No matter how you manage things going forward, you can always lean on Joanne and me. Samantha too. She’s just as taken with you as our Kara. Now we just need to make sure that child of mine doesn’t do anything stupid. I do love her, but she can be as stubborn as her father.”
Madeleine got in the car first, sliding across the back seat so Marsha wouldn’t have to. It was interesting. She knew the woman was trying to encourage her, but there were warnings too. Maybe they were worth heeding. After all, just how much did she actually know about one Kara Wexler?
Cause and Affection Page 20