“The big picture. All of it. You’re missing so much right now.”
“Such as?”
“God, where do I start?” Katrina made a show of looking to the ceiling as if searching, even though she had the list right there in her head, everything she needed Addison to open her eyes and see. “First of all, how about reasons Mom might have for not choosing you to take over F.E. that maybe have nothing to do with your work? Think about that for a minute.” She wasn’t about to speak for their mother, but she had a pretty good idea why Meredith didn’t choose Addison to step into a job that would make her feel like she had to work even harder than she already did now. “Second, what do you do for fun?”
The question seemed to catch Addison off guard, just as Katrina had hoped it would. “For fun? What do you mean?”
Katrina cocked her head. “The mere fact that you have to ask me what I mean when I ask you what you do for fun proves my point. Jesus, Addie, you used to have friends. You used to play soccer. You used to go to the movies with me. You used to throw dinner parties here. You used to date.” She paused, gave the words time to sink in. “Now? All you do is work. You work at the office. You work when you get home. You work on the weekends. I’ve never said anything because I kept hoping it was just a phase, that you’d become exhausted and step back a bit, that you’d realize Fairchild Rentals isn’t going to crumble around your ears if you put in a normal workday instead of one that’s consistently ten hours or longer. But you didn’t. And then you got sick. God, you got so sick they had to haul your ass to the hospital in an ambulance! You scared the shit out of us, do you know that? Sophie, who’s the most stoic, levelheaded person I’ve ever met, was completely freaked out. We’ve talked about you regularly. And do you have any idea how worried Mom was after that? She was sure you were going to drop dead of a heart attack at thirty-one. Sure of it. She told me more than once. ‘I’m going to walk in and find her dead at her desk, Katrina. I just know it.’ And I thought, ‘Okay, this is it. This will get her to slow down.’” She shook her head slowly.
To her credit, Addison was not only listening, she seemed riveted. For that, Katrina was grateful. This conversation could just as easily have gone the other way, with Addison screaming at her to get the hell out and leave her alone. She hadn’t done that, so maybe things were sinking in. She hoped so because there was one more card to play.
“But you didn’t slow down. Not even a tiny bit. No, not you. Not Addison Fairchild, who has to be the absolute best at everything, even if it kills her. Which it almost did. And then…” Katrina broke their gaze, turned back to the window.
“And then?”
“I like to think the universe decided to give you one last chance.”
“One last chance to what?”
Katrina shook her head with a frustrated shrug. “I don’t know. To stop and smell the roses? To slow the hell down before your body does it for you? To fucking enjoy life?” She heard Addison swallow. “My God, Addison, that chance? It walked right into your office.”
Addison’s eyes brightened with clarity. “Katie.”
“You’re goddamn right, Katie. You resisted her. I know you did. I watched it happen. But she’s just as stubborn as you are, and she was not going to be pushed around by you.” Addison’s entire face seemed to ease, to relax, so Katrina kept going. “She’s good for you. And I don’t know if you just don’t see it or if you see it and you fight it or if you don’t want to see it or what. But she…softens you. And I think you know that. And yet…”
Addison’s gaze was on her hands. Her shoulders slumped, and Katrina knew she was hitting home with her words. If there was one thing she’d learned about her sister over the years, it was that, sometimes, the only way to make her listen was to hit her over the head.
“Do you know what Katie has been doing for the past three days?”
Addison shook her head.
“Running your office. And doing a damn good job of it, FYI.” At the shock on Addison’s face, Katrina furrowed her own brow, and a little bit of irritation crept into her voice. “Why do you look surprised? Did you think she’d just stop showing up? Come on, Addison, you know better than that. I don’t know what happened between you two last weekend—though I have a pretty good idea—but you owe that girl way more than you’ve given her. You’re barely answering her texts. You’re crushing her. Forget the whole subordinate thing—that can be dealt with—but doesn’t she deserve better from you than what you’ve given her?”
Addison didn’t comment, but after twenty-eight years, Katrina could read her sister’s face with alarming accuracy, and she knew she’d hit home. Addison rubbed her hands together slowly, her gaze aimed down. Her lack of defensiveness, of any argument at all, told Katrina her work here was done, and she pushed herself to her feet.
“I have to get back to work,” Katrina said as she slipped an arm into her coat. Once it was buttoned up and she had her purse over her shoulder, she looked at her sister for a moment. Her voice much gentler than it had been, she said, “I love you, Addie, and I just want you to step back. Take a big step back from where you’re standing. Hell, take two. And then look. Really look. At all of it. Look at me, because I’m going to need your help like you don’t know. Look at Mom and give her more credit than you have been. And please, please look at Katie. She has picked up your very considerable slack all week, and I think it’s time you ask yourself why. Don’t you?”
* * *
Addison didn’t mind the snow, especially when it fell slowly in big, fluffy flakes. The kind of snow that blanketed the world and made everything seem fresh and new again. Clean slate.
That’s what Addison needed. Desperately. A clean slate.
She hadn’t liked anything Katrina had said. Not a word of it. Seriously, who would? Who wants to be told by their baby sister that they’re a mess? But she’d sat with it. From the time Katrina had left in the early afternoon and through the rest of the day, Addison sat on her couch, replaying the conversation, her sister’s words.
There was a lot of validity. She could admit that, even though she preferred not to.
A couple parts had been harder than others for Addison. Those were the things she focused on as she lay on her couch, the daylight fading into the indigo of dusk and then deeper into night. She hadn’t turned on any lights, just let the combination of the streetlights, the moon, and the falling snow give her enough to see by.
What do you do for fun?
Addison had snorted out loud when she recalled that question. Mostly because there wasn’t an answer. She did nothing for fun. Not a thing. There was very little fun in her life. Katrina was right. Addison used to do things. She threw dinner parties at least once a month when she’d first moved into the loft. Small ones. Intimate gatherings of five or six people, close friends she’d since lost touch with, drifted away from, Sophie being the only one tough enough to remain. And even that made Addison wonder why. That Sophie and Katrina had been talking about her with each other was surprising news.
She’d poured herself a glass of water—after considering a glass of wine and deciding against it…Katrina had her thinking about her health now—and sat down at her kitchen table, continued to gaze out into the cold winter’s night as she contemplated her life. And then that made her snort because, really, was it normal to sit around and contemplate life at thirty-one years old?
What do you do for fun?
Addison took a sip of her water, felt the cool of it slide down her throat, and tried to remember the last time she’d actually had fun. She narrowed her eyes as she searched her mind, but she didn’t have to go far. Only to an animal shelter, a little pen full of goats, and a beautiful woman watching her and smiling like she was having the best day ever.
Katie.
She…softens you.
God, Katrina had batted a thousand with her accuracy today, because even Addison knew that was the truth. She felt it when Katie was around. Well, she finally felt it. Afte
r allowing herself to feel it.
What the hell do I do about Katie?
That was the big question now. It really was, Addison realized with startling clarity. The job thing sucked, and she still needed to talk to her mother. She’d go see her first. Say her piece. Give her mom a chance to explain. She had to. She needed to. And her mother deserved respect, even if Addison was pissed off, so she knew she owed her mom an apology. A big one. She’d acted like a child, a fact that now embarrassed her beyond words. But after that…she had some sorting to do. In her head. In her heart.
Now it was after dinner on Wednesday evening and Addison, having finally showered, was back at the kitchen table. She rarely sat here, and now, as she looked out at the snow, the lovely view of the city, she wondered why. It was a beautiful spot; she remembered thinking so when she’d purchased the place a few years ago. I’ll put a table right here so I can sit with my coffee and plan out the day. And she had. For a while. And then…
What had happened to her life? And why had she allowed it?
Addison wrestled with that for a while as she watched the softly falling snow. When she’d stepped out of the shower a little bit ago, she’d gazed at her reflection. Stared at it. Stared into the eyes of a woman she barely recognized anymore. And for the first time in her life, Addison Fairchild didn’t like what she saw.
That was a wake-up call. One she’d probably needed for a while now.
With a slow intake of breath, she stood and pushed her chair in. Her coffee cup went in the dishwasher, and then she moved toward the front door, donned boots, a coat, hat, gloves, and felt a little bit like she was putting on her suit of armor.
She was a mess. Her head was a mess. She was confused and hurt and…confused. But she needed to deal with it all, get her shit together and buck up. She’d created the mess, and now she needed to figure out how to handle it.
It was time to face the music.
* * *
Addison was taking a chance assuming her mother would be home. Most people would be, as it was late evening in the middle of the week, but Meredith Fairchild was not most people. Not by a long shot. So finding the driveway plowed and the garage door open with her car parked snugly inside was a little bit like finding an Easter egg in a video game: a possibility, but a happy surprise when you actually discover it.
Addison slid her gearshift into Park and sat in the driveway for a moment. Getting her bearings. Gearing up. Gathering courage. All those clichéd things you did before heading into a discussion that would most likely be uncomfortable.
“Suck it up, Fairchild,” she muttered and pushed herself from her car. She was halfway up the freshly shoveled front walk when the door opened, and Meredith Fairchild stood there, arms folded across her chest, her expression a combination of relief, anger, and satisfaction. When Addison reached her, she simply stepped aside to let her enter.
“Finally,” she said, her voice hard, steely.
“Sorry,” Addison said, and meant it.
They closed the door and Addison slid off her boots.
“I was about to make myself a cup of decaf,” Meredith said, her way of asking if Addison wanted some, too.
“Okay.”
After shedding her winter attire—and feeling slightly naked without all that padding to protect her—which was silly, she knew—Addison followed her mother into the kitchen where a fresh pot had just been brewed, judging by the rich aroma in the air. No words were spoken by either of them as Meredith filled two thick, black stoneware mugs, then set them on the island counter as Addison took a seat on one of the four barstools lined up there. A sugar bowl came next, followed by two spoons and a quart of half and half—Meredith had always used actual cream, and when she decided she needed to cut back on calories and fat in her daily life, the cream was the first thing to go. To wean herself off it, she’d backed it down to half and half, and that’s as far as she got. “Why should I have to give up everything I like?” she’d asked Addison one day.
They doctored their cups in silence, spoons clanging gently against the stoneware, and Meredith took the stool next to Addison. They sipped in tandem, then set their cups down, like it was choreographed, and Addison would’ve found it amusing if she wasn’t so nervous.
No, maybe nervous was the wrong word. She wasn’t nervous to talk to her own mother, but she was hesitant. Along with that came a sliver of shame.
Clearing her throat, Addison turned to look at her mother, who gazed back at her with blue eyes Addison had inherited, and said simply, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Mm-hmm,” was all Meredith said, then sipped. She gave a small nod, and a beat or two went by before she sipped her coffee again without saying anything.
That was Addison’s cue to elaborate. “I acted like a child. I embarrassed you. I ignored your texts and calls. I sincerely apologize.”
Meredith nodded again, letting Addison know she was on the right track. “Mm-hmm.”
Addison would’ve preferred a few more…words. The lack of them only made her feel like she was ten years old again, trying to explain some sort of failure. She watched her mother’s face, as Meredith made eye contact, clearly waiting. Addison bit the bullet. “Can you tell me why, Mom?” she asked quietly.
“Happily.” Meredith turned slightly on her stool so she was facing Addison, almost like she’d been waiting for her daughter to ask the question. Addison wondered if she had. Her face remained stony and no-nonsense, so her next words startled Addison. “I’m worried about you.” She slashed a hand through the air suddenly. “No. Scratch that. I am terrified for you.” She focused on Addison, who was pretty sure she could feel it boring into her, and Addison was astonished to see her mother’s eyes well with tears. “You terrified me. When Sophie called me to tell me she’d had to call an ambulance for you? And I got to the hospital and saw you? God, Addison, you looked like death. Pale. Skinny. You work yourself to the bone and it scares me. Do you understand that? Can you? You scare me.”
Addison had never heard her mother’s voice sound like that: high-pitched and shaky with worry, and she immediately felt terrible. Guilty. She nodded slowly.
“I was sure it would be the wake-up call you needed to slow down. When they let you out of the hospital with strict instructions, I was actually relieved. Relieved that something had finally gotten your attention.” She sighed. “But that was short-lived, as we both know.”
An unexpected lump formed in Addison’s throat as she realized the full weight of what she’d put on her mother, on those who loved her.
“Why on earth do you think you need to work so hard?” It wasn’t a rhetorical question. That was obvious from Meredith’s tone, from her expectant eyes focused so intently on Addison’s. “What is that?”
Slowly, Addison shook her head, not ready to get into this particular subject. Her voice wasn’t much more than a croak as she answered, “I don’t know.”
A grimace crossed Meredith’s face as she turned back to her coffee. “Well, maybe you need to think about that.”
Maybe I do, Addison thought, picking up her own mug.
Silence reigned for several moments, the two women sipping their coffee, both lost in thought. Finally, Addison said as she stared into her mug, “So, that’s why you chose Katrina instead of me? My overworking?”
“My worry about your overworking,” Meredith stressed. “Yes.” In an instant, though, the concern on her face melted away and was replaced by a sternness that used to make Addison’s stomach flip when she was a kid. Still effective. “And you did not handle it well.”
Addison braced.
“I mean, really, Addison. Since last weekend. What on earth have you been thinking?” Her face registered massive distaste as she went on. “Leaving the Christmas gala with your assistant in tow for everyone to see? Calling in sick for three days because you’re angry at my business decisions?” Addison must have looked surprised because her mother scoffed. “You think I don’t keep track of what goes on in my
company, young lady?”
Yup. Ten years old. Just like that. Addison looked into her cup, found her coffee very interesting.
“All you’ve done is convince me I made the right decision.”
Ouch.
That one was rough.
And while Addison understood that she’d had this coming, it didn’t make it any easier to stomach. She felt ill, stopped her mug halfway to her lips, and set it back down again.
“I think you’ve got some thinking to do,” Meredith said, her voice slightly less harsh, as if she realized the effect her words were having, had intended it, but felt the tiniest bit bad about it. But only the tiniest bit.
Chapter Twenty
When Katie was on her way down the hall toward Addison’s office on Thursday morning and saw the lights on, the mix of emotions she felt was a bit overwhelming. The first was relief and it was big. It flooded in like water, running through her veins, warming her up from the inside. Addison’s better! Good! I didn’t like the idea of her being sick. The second was surprise; she’d actually expected to be on her own again. The third was more relief because she’d been handling more than her share of things and was starting to worry about the job she’d been doing. Flying blind, her mother had called it.
“You’re back,” she said cheerfully, as she entered the office.
“I am.” Addison watched her enter, which was unusual. On top of that, her expression was…cool. All business. That was the only way to describe it, and a small seed of worry parked itself in the pit of Katie’s stomach.
“You feeling better?”
“I am.”
If asked later, Katie would have no explanation how she knew what was about to happen, but somehow, she did. She didn’t cross to the little round table. She didn’t even unsling her bag from her shoulder. She simply stood there and looked at this woman. A woman she’d slept with less than a week ago. A woman she’d very much enjoyed sleeping with, and she was pretty sure the feeling had been mutual. A woman she thought she’d clicked with, that she’d hoped to spend more time with, get to know. She stood there and was certain she could feel all those could’ve beens disintegrating around her.
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