“That’s an excellent point.”
In the days since I’d begun working at Aurora, I’d chatted with Kathleen a multitude of times, but she always kept our conversations centered on work. Sitting outside, enjoying a beer with her blessing brought my inhibitions down.
“I hope I’m not upsetting you. This is as close to outside of work as we’ve gotten so far. And I’m curious about you.”
Kathleen tilted her head. “Really?”
“Yes.”
She dropped her gaze and circled a contemplative finger on the rim of her glass. When she brought her eyes back to mine, there was a determined set to her features.
I waited to see which way our conversation was about to turn.
“What do you want to know?”
“Plenty. For example, are you married?”
She held up her left hand, which held no ring. “No.”
“Am I being too nosy?”
She grinned while leaning toward me. “Not so far, but honestly speaking, there’s not much to me,” she said, repeating my words to her before she’d introduced me at the staff meeting my first day of work. Pride flared. I’d made a memorable impression.
“I disagree,” I bantered back, cementing an inside joke.
We beamed at one another and then fell into a mutual silence. During this time, Kathleen’s eyes drifted to the Deschutes River. I recalled her referring to this spot as her oasis. She’d mentioned that she used to dine at the Riverhouse with her mother, but I also knew she hadn’t been back in a long time.
On impulse I asked, “Your mother doesn’t live in Bend anymore?”
Kathleen blinked but didn’t take her eyes away from the white water rushing by just steps away.
“No. She doesn’t.” Her voice was quieter. I strained to hear her statement over the roar created by the river.
I leaned forward. “Where is she now?”
“Portland,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
I wanted to ask her more, but stopped. The energy around us had shifted in a matter of a few words. There was little doubt that Kathleen was uncomfortable now. We both went still for a second time.
She took the lead and resumed the conversation. “How are you liking Oregon so far?”
“Still adapting.” It was my turn to be on the defensive, although I’d earned a bit of her investigation.
“I’ve never been to Baltimore,” Kathleen revealed.
“No?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t get out of the neighborhood much.”
“Where do you like to go when you leave the neighborhood?”
Kathleen’s cheeks turned a bit rosier than usual. “My last vacation shouldn’t count,” she told me. “It was way out of the norm.”
“That sounds interesting. Where did you go?”
“France.”
“Why there? Was it on your bucket list?”
“I wanted to go somewhere far away, and I guess I was in the mood to see Paris.”
“That’s great,” I replied. “What did you do there?”
“All of the usual things, I suppose. What did you like best about living in Baltimore?”
“I miss Chesapeake Bay. Once upon a time, I had a sailboat.”
“Yeah?” Kathleen’s tone communicated both her interest and her surprise.
I was suddenly at a loss for words. If I was going to be truthful to Kathleen, I would have to reveal that the sailboat was one of many quagmires in my marriage. I hadn’t spoken about sailing in years and was surprised that I’d mentioned it. Of all the things I could have revealed about my old life, why had I started with that boat?
Stalling for extra time to prepare my answer, I took another sip of beer. “I gave it up when I got engaged.”
“Your wife wasn’t a fan?”
“Nope.” I left it at that and Kathleen laughed good-naturedly. Despite the fine line I was walking, I was glad to get our conversation back on track.
“Have you visited the coast here?”
Here was a question I was happy to indulge. “Not yet. It’s a bit of a drive, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “A little over three hours. The highway from here is narrow and windy, but the drive is beautiful. There’s plenty of scenery along the way.”
“Do you go to the beach often?”
“Now and again. The coast was always too windy and foggy for Robert. He likes it here more than anywhere else.”
Here was another obstacle when it came to Kathleen. Although I hadn’t witnessed severe tension between her and Robert since the reception at 5 Fusion, I knew better than to ask about their relationship. I was running out of conversational avenues. Her mother was off limits and so was her father. She wasn’t married and didn’t have a family of her own, which eliminated any number of small talks we could have engaged in.
I tapped my beer bottle, focusing my attention on the nearby wooden bridge that crossed the river. I remembered Heide’s joy there during our stay and smiled. I brought my attention back to Kathleen, confident I had discovered new territory to explore.
“Tell me what it was like for you growing up in Bend.”
“What do you mean?” Kathleen’s eyes narrowed.
Her expression bothered me. What trap had I stepped into this time? “I was just curious. I remember Robert telling me how he moved you here from Portland. Perhaps I just need some reassurance that I’ve done the right thing by my daughter.”
Kathleen considered this at length. I wanted her to be honest about her childhood here, so I waited patiently as she collected her thoughts.
“I liked my school,” she said. “I had lots of friends and I made the honor roll. Once I got on it, I never fell off.”
“I can see that about you.” I moved the conversation forward again by asking, “Were you bored here? After living in the city?”
Kathleen shook her head. “If it was boring here, I would have moved away after high school and never come back. Granted, Bend isn’t for everyone. It’s just like anywhere, I suppose. People love it or hate it, or they’re indifferent and hang on until something better comes along.”
“You didn’t miss being a kid in the city?”
“No. To be honest, my memories of Portland are fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy.” I repeated the word, wondering if my daughter would someday recall Maryland in the same way. I supposed it was inevitable, but the realization was difficult to accept.
“We signed Heide up for soccer. She played in Baltimore. I hope something familiar will help her adjust.” I was beginning to ramble, something I wasn’t prone to.
“You don’t need to worry,” Kathleen said. “New kids here always get an extra dose of attention. Everyone will want to get to know her. She’ll have her choice of friends.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“She’ll do fine,” Kathleen added with certainty and I believed her.
Before I could thank her, Kathleen’s phone pinged. She picked it up from the table and checked her message. While she did this, I finished my beer.
When she set down her phone, she looked at me again. “We should head back to the office.” She gestured for our bill. Our server returned, and Kathleen held out her hand for the ticket. Once it was in her palm, she set it down in front of her and moved to retrieve her wallet.
“My treat,” I stumbled, flustered by her quick action.
She dismissed my offer without even glancing up. “It’s on the company.”
I persisted. “This was my idea. Let me take care of it. Please.”
There was an insistence in my tone that surprised even me. She froze, half twisted in her seat with her hand still inside her purse. She looked at me again, and I pointed to the bill on her side of the table. The ticket was next to her left breast. One wayward glance and I was staring at the slight embossment of her nipple against her blouse. She pushed the black leather folder in my direction, and I scooped it up and stood to retrieve my wallet from my trousers. Mortifi
ed by my behavior, I hurried over to the bar before Kathleen could read my thoughts and slap me with a sexual harassment complaint.
We didn’t speak on the drive back to the office. Kathleen occupied herself with her phone, responding to texts and e-mails. I was anxious and moody. I’d wanted to see Kathleen enjoy her oasis, and yet I couldn’t help but feel it was a mistake taking her to the Riverhouse. She’d spent much of our social time acting guarded and suspicious. We’d had a great client meeting earlier that was vital to the firm and for me, but I fixated on those few fleeting minutes spent on a sunny, riverside deck.
I’d taken Kathleen’s oasis and turned it into a mirage.
WHEN WE returned to the agency, the staff switched gears and was prepared for the evening’s reception. I muddled through the rest of the afternoon, second-guessing our detour. I tried to distract myself with projects that were helpful but required little mental energy. I searched in vain for a way to forget my mistakes of the day.
Allison arrived at the reception twenty minutes behind the main surge. Given her former career in broadcasting, it wasn’t like her to be late for anything, but I’d been so busy greeting one new person after another that I hadn’t had any time to stop and think about that. When she found me, I was catching my first bit of respite. I was deep in conversation with Kathleen.
Allison approached us, dressed immaculately but looking out of sorts. I did my best to draw her into our conversation without derailing it. I had one goal in mind and knew that Allison was smart enough to realize when I was trying to strike a deal. I draped my arm around my wife’s waistline, pulling her close to me in welcome.
“Kathleen. This is my wife, Allison.”
Kathleen extended a happy smile and reached out to shake hands. “Hello, Allison. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Allison shook Kathleen’s hand. “Hello.”
“We had an excellent meeting this afternoon with a longtime prospect,” I told Allison and gestured to Kathleen with my free hand. “It was spontaneous, but Kathleen and I pitched it together and it was brilliant.”
“Jack made the deal happen. All I did was set up the meeting and make the introduction.”
“Not true at all,” I disagreed. “Kathleen knows everyone and everything about Bend. She made the whole thing feel more like a neighborhood get-together instead of one of the biggest deals of the month.”
“Of the year!” she beamed.
“We’ve stumbled onto something here,” I told them both. “Having us tackle the meeting together worked to the firm’s advantage. I was thinking about drafting up a proposal to Robert, asking if you and I could keep working together to take on some of these prospect assignments he’s so excited about. What do you think?”
Allison tensed within my embrace as I waited for Kathleen’s answer.
“I agree. I’ll have no problem setting the meetings, and your advertising experience far exceeds mine.” Kathleen glanced to Allison. “He thinks so fast on his feet.”
“You have no idea,” Allison responded. She smiled, showing that she was making a joke, but her posture remained rigid, and her hands were clasped in front of her body. She hadn’t reciprocated my embrace, just merely tolerated its existence.
Just then, Tracie approached Kathleen. “Robert needs you to come say hello to Ted.”
“Right. I’m sorry to dash away, but you haven’t seen your husband all day. Have a glass of wine and catch up for a few minutes.” Kathleen turned away and took a few steps before spinning back around and pointing in my direction. “Oh! But don’t go too far, Jack. I’m guessing Robert’s next move is to get you interviewed for The Bulletin. That’s why he’s calling me over now.”
“Got it. We’ll stay here.”
Satisfied with my answer, Kathleen bounded off with Tracie. I turned to Allison and leaned down to kiss her temple. She stepped away from me before my lips could brush her skin.
I was perplexed but gestured to a nearby table with two empty seats. “Come sit with me. Was the traffic bad? You’re late.”
I began walking, but noticed when she didn’t follow me. I stepped back toward her and took her hand in mine, leading us both to the table. She didn’t resist and took a seat when I pulled out a chair for her.
“Let me get you a glass of wine. All right?”
Allison appeared conflicted but glanced around the busy room and nodded.
When I returned a few minutes later, I drew the other chair toward hers and sat close, trying to afford us as much privacy as possible in the crowded room.
“Is something wrong?” I asked in a low voice.
Allison’s politeness subsided as soon as she took her first sip. “By now, I should know better. Why am I continually surprised by the things you do?”
“Me? I’m the one you’re upset with?” I was astonished. “I don’t understand. Everything seemed fine when I left for work this morning. You made me coffee. We talked about Heide’s first sleepover. We didn’t fight on the phone about this afternoon. In fact, this morning on the way out the door you…”
Realization dawned on me and my humiliation was immediate. If I’d screwed up my afternoon with Kathleen, it was nothing compared to what I’d just done to Allison. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered. “Our therapy appointment.”
Allison glared at me. No more words were necessary to convey her anger and disappointment.
I scrambled to apologize. “I didn’t skip it on purpose,” I stammered. “I just zoned out. I’m so sorry.”
Allison looked at me in rage and disbelief. When she responded, the low tone of her voice turned my blood cold. “You zoned out?”
My mind was blank. My wife seethed in her chair, waiting for me to respond, and all I could focus on was making sure no one else could overhear our argument.
“Jack!” Her demand for attention snapped me out of a stupor.
“We can’t talk about this here,” I told her, desperate to move on to neutral subject matter.
“We can’t? Or you can’t?” she challenged. “Here we are once again.”
Against my better judgment, I muttered, “And where exactly is that?”
“In this place where you hurt me, and I’m just supposed to suck it up and be the forgiving wife.”
“Not now,” I hissed. I refrained from slamming a frustrated fist down on the table and glanced around at the crowd. My blood pressure receded once I saw that we had not drawn attention to ourselves. My eyes sought Allison’s once more. “There is too much on the line here tonight. What’s done is done and we can’t fix it here.”
“You’re the one who’s screwed things up.” Allison jabbed my chest with a solitary finger. “You’re the one who needs to fix things, not me.”
“Fine,” I told her, hoping to bring a semblance of peace back to the current situation. “I will take care of this. Please. Can we just move on to something else?”
Allison shook her head. “You’re always so worried about what your colleagues will think. Your reputation is so precious when it comes to your career. If only your reputation as a husband was half as important. Why isn’t it, Jack? Why do you care so little about what your wife thinks of you?”
“Your opinion matters, Allison,” I said but with an exasperation I could no longer disguise.
Her eyes roamed the room until they came to rest upon Kathleen Brighton on the other side of the lobby.
“If we were still in Baltimore, I’d know exactly who to blame for your distraction and why.” Allison jutted her chin in Kathleen’s direction. “Is she the one I need to be wary of now? I know she distracted you this afternoon with some big meeting, but please go ahead and tell me about how she did it. If she got you to forget about your marriage counseling, she must be my new competition.”
Everything was spinning out of control, but I owed Allison an explanation, as lame as the truth might be.
“Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t blame Kathleen,” I said. “This is my fuck-up. I didn’t make it back to
my office after lunch to review my schedule. That’s what I usually do. I hadn’t cemented the appointment in my brain for this afternoon, that’s all.”
“What are you telling me, Jack? That our marriage isn’t worth thinking about away from home?”
I became flustered yet again. “Of course not.”
“What you just said makes no sense at all.”
“I really am sorry,” I tried. “I don’t blame you for being angry with me. But let’s set it aside for now and talk when we get home. Don’t make me say this again. I can’t get into an argument with my wife in the middle of a party being held in my honor and filled with colleagues and clients.”
Our glances both darted in Kathleen’s direction just as she turned and beckoned me over. I rose from my seat and straightened my suit to occupy my negative energy. As I walked away to join Kathleen and the rest of her group, Allison glared.
“Don’t keep me here longer than need be,” she said. “The sooner we go home, the less time I’ll have to sit here and stew about it.”
ON ITS surface, the party held in my honor by Aurora was a rousing success. As soon as I vacated my seat at Allison’s table, it was impossible to find my way back to resume our conversation. Many of the firm’s longtime clients popped in to meet me in person as did some prospective clients. The local press approached me for interviews, and Kathleen and Robert both appeared to be in good spirits. But I found it difficult to enjoy any level of triumph, knowing that Allison sat nearby, unattended and disappointed.
She had asked me to find a way to leave the party as soon as possible, but once again her request went unheeded. Three hours after her confrontation, we drove home in separate vehicles. I rode in absolute silence, allowing my thoughts to race unchecked. When we opened the door to our house, I was relieved that Heide wasn’t there to greet us. I was no fool. Allison had rebuffed my romantic yearnings for months, and tonight she had ample reason to turn me away again.
As I locked the front door, she strode through the living room and down the hallway straight to our bedroom. I was a coward and dipped into the kitchen for a glass of water. I couldn’t corral my fleeting thoughts, and the lack of focus fueled my irritation. I needed to reconnect with her, but I couldn’t conceive of how. I waited in the kitchen and stared at my empty drinking glass, seeking inspiration.
Chaos (Constellation Book 2) Page 9