After The Storm (Men Made in America-- Mississippi)

by Flanders, Rebecca

  "Kevin. What are you doing here?"

  "I came to see you'' was his simple reply.

  She crossed quickly to her desk, and she could feel his eyes following her. She found herself grasping for shreds of her composure like motes of dust in the wind. She said, "Did you want me to check your shoulder? Are you feeling okay?"

  His expression was composed, his eyes steady and tolerant. "No, I'm fine."

  She sat down behind her desk, aware of the feeling of security and power that seemed to give her. She could look at him now with no more than a slightly increased rhythm to the thumping of her heart, and when she folded her hands atop her desk, they hardly felt damp at all. She said, in an almost normal tone of voice, "I thought you would be gone by now."

  He lifted a questioning eyebrow. "Oh? Gone where?"

  "It's Wednesday," she reminded him. "Didn't you have a party to go to?"

  He looked only momentarily puzzled; then he shrugged. "I guess I'm going to miss it, aren't I?"

  "I guess so." It was an inane statement, accompanied by a weak smile, and Kate glanced down at her hands briefly.

  She took a breath, determined not to let the silence grow uncomfortable. She was the one who had wanted to talk about being mature; it was time she started acting like it. She sat back in the chair and returned her gaze to him. This time her smile was more natural, and so was her tone as she asked, ''So, what did you want to see me about?"

  "I've given you some time," he relied simply. "Now I think we should talk."

  With a sigh, Kate let go of her last defenses. "Yes," she agreed quietly, and met his gaze, "I guess we should."

  She got up and closed the door, then returned to her desk, but leaning against it now, not sitting behind it. This wasn't going to be easy—none of it was easy—but she and Kevin had known each other too long to start hiding from each other now. She didn't know what to say to him; she didn't even know what she wanted to say. But she had to try.

  "Kevin," she began with difficulty, "I'm sorry I acted so stupid this morning. I guess you know I'm not... Well, I'm not used to waking up in strange men's beds, and I didn't handle it very well." She tried to smile. "I guess I'm not as sophisticated as I look."

  "I'm not exactly a stranger," he reminded her.

  She nodded. "I think that's the problem," she admitted softly.

  He released a breath, lifting his arm to rub the back of his neck in a weary, tense gesture. His eyes wandered away, then back. "Katie," he said at last, gently, "I don't know what you're thinking—but I didn't plan it. After all these years, I wouldn't do anything to deliberately hurt you. You know that, don't you?"

  She smiled, reluctantly and rather ruefully. "Kevin, don't try to placate me. There's nothing wrong with my memory. I seduced you, not the other way around."

  He looked at her intently. "Then why... ?" But he stopped himself, shaking his head curtly. "No, I'm not going to ask you that. I do understand, Katie, as much as I can," he told her earnestly, simply. "Knowing you as well as I do, how can I not understand how hard this is for you? I just... don't want you to make it any harder on yourself than you have to."

  He drew another deep breath as though for courage, and he looked at her steadily. "Look, I'm not going to ask you any hard questions or tell you anything you don't want to hear. I just want you to know that you've been a part of my life for too long for me to let you go now. If you're ashamed of what happened, that's okay. I understand." That seemed to be difficult for him to say. "I know how your mind works. And if you want to forget it, we can try that, too. If you want to go on the way we always have and... never let sex be a part of our relationship again, we can do that. I won't like it, but I can live with it." His eyes were dark, his expression sober. "I can live with anything except the way you looked at me this morning."

  Kate felt a twist of pain that was tempered by a tenderness so acute her throat felt moistened by it. She wanted to step over to him and take him in her arms, to hold him and be held by him, and she wanted it so badly that she had to tense her muscles to keep from taking the first step. She loved him, in that moment, with heartbreaking simplicity. And it took all her willpower to keep from telling him so.

  But words of emotion would only complicate an already unbearably complicated situation. For Kevin, commitments were easy and temporary, as spontaneous as his own good nature. Kate was more sensible. And she had only her good sense to rely upon now, for both their sakes.

  She braced her palms against the top of her desk, curling her fingers around the edge. Her arms tensed in an unconscious display of the emotions that were warring within her. She said, as honestly as possible, "Kevin, I never meant to hurt you, either. I—the truth is, everything has been so upside down in the past couple of days I don't even know what to think, or how to feel anymore. I know—" she had to drop her eyes briefly "—that you've had a lot more experience in this sort of thing than I have, and I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but it's the way I am." Now she looked at him. "Things changed ast night—inside me as well as between us. And even though I wanted it ... I still wasn't prepared, I suppose, for what it would mean. And now I'm having trouble dealing with it. I'm sorry."

  His eyes went over her face, examining her, it seemed, or truths behind the words. Whether he found them or lot, she could not tell, because there was a question in his eyes, and caution. "Does it have to be a bad thing, these changes?"

  "I don't know," she answered simply. Inside her, questions were building, anxious and uncertain. What did he want? Did he want to be her lover or just her friend? Did he want to go back to the way things were, or would he be disappointed, even angry, if she suggested it? Was he sorry now? Had last night meant anything to him besides the inconveniences of redefining their relationship now?

  But she asked none of those questions, mostly because she was not sure what she wanted the answers to be.

  He said softly, "It was good between us. It wasn't just an accident."

  "No." Her throat was tight, her voice barely a whisper. Of that much she was sure. "It wasn't an accident It was good."

  There seemed to be a measure of relief in his expression, the softest of sighs, as though he had been holding his breath. He still watched her searchingly, intently, yet there was restraint in him, as though he were holding back something from her, just as she was from him. "Does it bother you, then, all this experience of mine you keep talking about? Do you think I'm just seeing you as a one-night stand—is that it?"

  "No." Although that was it, at least in part. "Not exactly."

  "Because it was a big deal to me, too, Katie," he said with quiet, inarguable force. "How could you think it wouldn't be?"

  She closed her eyes, briefly and helplessly, against the new onslaught of confusion that just kept building with every word he spoke, every moment he stayed. How she wanted to touch him. How tempting it was to explore this barest of beginnings to their new reliationship, and how dangerous.

  She said softly, "I don't know, Kevin. I just don't know."

  There was silence, long and suspended and aching with things unsaid. And then he got up and came over to her; he lightly touched her face with his hand, tilting it up ward to look at him. "All right, Katie," he said gently "I promised no pressure. I don't want to complicate your life, and I know you have to think everything out to its smallest common denominator." He smiled a little, coaxing a faint reciprocal smile from her.

  And then his eyes grew serious, looking into hers, so dark and so intense that she caught her breath. His fingers stroked her cheek lightly, warmly, making her turn her face slightly to the caress. He said softly, "But while you're thinking, maybe you should know that I—"

  They heard the brief knock on the door, and Kate sprang away from him just as her secretary opened it. The other woman looked a bit harried and rather awed—which was not unusual in the presence of Kevin Dawson. She said, "Excuse me, Dr. Larimer, but there are some people here—reporters looking for Mr. Dawson. One of them
is from—"

  Kevin muttered a short, foul curse and turned away. "I've got to get out of here," he said. "I've been trying to duck those guys all day."

  Kate's heart was pounding, and her skin was warm, a retrograde reaction to Kevin's touch and the barely suggested promise of the moment that was so abruptly shattered. But her expression was calm and composed and perfectly in control as she nodded to her secretary. "Please tell them that this is a medical facility, not a celebrity lounge," she said coolly. "If any of them need a doctor's attention, we'll be happy to see them. Otherwise, please ask them to leave."

  Her secretary left, looking suitably impressed, and Kevin turned to her with a gentle spark of admiration in is eyes. "You're really something, aren't you? Always on top of things."

  Kate's returned smile was half uncertain, half wry. "Most of the time."

  He looked at her for a moment longer, his expression soft and unsure and poised in expectancy. Both of them waited for what would come next; neither of them knew what it should be. And then he lowered his eyes; he reached into his pocket and took out a key, placing it on her desk. "Listen, I'm going back to the house. You still need a place to stay and—well..." He looked at her. "Separate beds are okay with me, if that's what you want."

  Kate glanced at the key and then at him, but he didn't give her a chance to say anything. "I've got to go," he said quickly, moving toward the door. "Before we all end up on the cover of People. I'll see you later, Katie." It wasn't a question or a promise, just a casual statement of fact. And then he was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  At four o'clock, Kate's father came in. She had seen her last patient of the day and could no longer avoid the necessity of making a decision about where she was going to spend the night. Her eyes repeatedly strayed to the key on her desk, but she didn't pick it up. She listed over and over in her mind all the excellent reasons why she should go anyplace else but Kevin's house tonight.

  She was extraordinarily glad for the distraction of her father's visit. She made a great business out of checking his cast, asking after his health, giving him advice. He tolerated her with cynical amusement. She asked a multitude of questions about the progress of the city council, the damage estimates and disaster aid, and he obliged her with answers. She inquired after the state of his house, and he replied that he had gotten his windows fixed. He asked if she had a place to stay, and she answered something unintelligible, turning to file away a chart.

  He watched her for a moment with easy, alert patience, then said, "All right, Katie, out with it. You didn't send for me to play doctor or to discuss the weather or the state of the municipal government. What's on your pretty little mind?"

  Kate closed the file drawer with a soft release of breath and turned to face him slowly. She said simply, "I slept with Kevin last night."

  His expression was blank, and she hastened to clarify. "What I mean is, you already know I was staying at his house, but what I mean is, we—made love."

  He looked completely unimpressed. "Since you don't usually make it a habit to keep me informed of the comings and goings of your sex life, I assume there's more?"

  "What more could there be?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "Isn't that bad enough?"

  He arched his brows questioningly. "You want me to avenge your honor?"

  Kate closed her eyes briefly, restraining impatience. Men. She'd never understand them. "Forget it," she said shortly, and made a great show of pulling out her desk chair, sitting down and opening her drawer, pretending to look for something.

  Jason Larimer leaned back against the sofa, carefully lifting his injured leg to rest on the coffee table, and relaxed. He smiled at her. "All right, Katie, I didn't mean to tease. What's upsetting you?"

  "No wonder you and Kevin get along so well," she muttered, not glancing at him. "You're just alike."

  "That's highly significant."

  "I doubt it."

  He was thoughtful for a moment, assessing her gently. "What's the problem, Katie?" he insisted. "Tell me about it."

  She was on the verge of retorting that if she knew what the problem was she wouldn't need to talk to him about it, and then she realized that was precisely why she had wanted to talk to her father. She needed a chance to put her own feelings into words, if she could.

  She closed the drawer slowly, linked her hands atop her desk and looked at him with hopelessness and confusion in her eyes. "The problem is," she admitted, "I don't regret it. And I should. I'm not an impulsive person— you know that—but this has changed everything between Kevin and me, and I'm completely thrown off balance. And," she confessed regretfully, "I'm not handling it very well, I'm afraid."

  "What's there to handle?" he inquired simply. "If you ask me, this is long overdue."

  She stared at him, but her father was unmistakably serious. "How can you say that?" she demanded incredulously. "Until two days ago Kevin and I barely tolerated each other."

  "Now that's not true," he pointed out. "Kevin has always been fond of you."

  Kate dismissed that as irrelevant. "But I wasn't fond of him,'' she insisted. "I didn't even like him very much. We certainly never thought of each other sexually."

  "Didn't you?" her father interrupted mildly. And as she formed an instinctive denial, he lifted a hand for silence. "Now, just wait, Katie, and think about this for a iminute. Maybe you didn't notice—maybe even Kevin didn't notice—but if you had been a dispassionate observer like myself, it might have occurred to you that all these years you've been sparring with each other, a great percentage of your quips were sexual in nature. Old Freud knew his business, my girl, and if he were alive today, no doubt he'd make the same observation I'm making—you've been sublimating, both of you. And it's been going on almost since the time you reached puberty."

  The notion was almost too incredible to consider. Kate tried to think back on her relationship with Kevin over the years, to the careless remarks tossed back and forth about each other's sex lives, to the teasing insinuations and invitations that, she was certain, had meant nothing. Nothing at all except they were two adults who knew each other too well to be coy. Her father's suggestion that those innocent thrusts and parries had only been a disguise for real sexual attraction was ridiculous. She was almost sure of it.

  She felt confusion begin to swamp her again, and she could only counter with "That's not the point. The fact is, I never intended to get involved with Kevin."

  "You've been involved with him," Jason corrected definitively, "for quite some time."

  He was determined to make this as difficult for Kate as possible. "No," she said firmly. "Until yesterday I didn't care if I never saw him again."

  "And now?"

  "And now," she admitted, with difficulty, "I care. A lot."

  The smile that lit her father's eyes looked suspiciously like gentle satisfaction. "That is not a bad thing, Katie. To care for someone else."

  "But don't you see?" she insisted, a little desperately now. "It never should have happened. It was just... the stress of the storm, the old cliché of two people thrown together in the dark. It can't be real—or permanent. All it's doing is upsetting my life and confusing me and making me miserable."

  Her father looked at her thoughtfully for a long time. "Well, if that's the case," he decided at last, "I don't see the problem at all. You made a mistake; you forget it and move on and make sure it doesn't happen again. There's nothing very complicated about that."

  A rational assessment except for one thing: It didn't feel like a mistake to Kate. And for that reason it was complicated. "It's not that easy." She sighed unhappily. "On the one hand, everything is changed. On the other hand, nothing has. I know that. A week ago all Kevin did was get on my nerves. A week from now, maybe, or a month, I'm going to wake up and find that I still don't like him. After all, I've known him for years, and it just doesn't make sense that in two days he could suddenly turn into the kind of person I could... well, take seriously. It was just the storm, and just
because we were lovers is no reason for me to feel like I'm—"

  "In love with him?" her father suggested perceptively, and Kate colored uncomfortably. The words sounded foolish when applied to Kevin and her, embarrassing and laughably inappropriate. But she couldn't deny them, and the fact made her miserable.

  ''All right, Katie." Using both hands to guide his leg to the floor, her father sat up straight and looked at her frankly. ''I'll tell you this one thing, and then you're on your own. Sometimes, it's true, a crisis will draw two people together who have nothing at all in common except the crisis. But sometimes it takes moments of stress to strip away the veneers and pretenses and let us see the truth about ourselves and each other. Sometimes..." And his smile now was a little introverted, tender and reminiscent, as though he were not exactly talking about Kate and Kevin at all. "It takes something like that storm to give us the courage to recognize what's been there all along."

  Abruptly, he looked embarrassed, impatient with himself, and Kate was peculiarly convinced he had been thinking about himself and not her. But before she had a chance to question, he said firmly, "My advice, dear girl, is to give yourself a chance. Stop trying to make sense out of something that can't be measured in the lab. And stop being so hard on poor Kevin. My guess is..." He chuckled as he reached for his crutch. "The boy has no idea what he's gotten himself into. He deserves all the support he can get."

  That made Kate smile as she got up to help her father. And after all the turmoil she had been through over what was, after all, a simple biologic function, it felt good to smile.

  She was in much better spirits after having talked to her father, although she couldn't say exactly why. He had had nothing helpful to offer whatsoever; in fact, if she made an effort to try to understand what he had said, she would only be more confused than ever, but his matter-of-fact attitude had allowed her to put things a bit more in perspective.