Sheryl elbowed him. “I thought you were going someplace.”
“Okay, I’m outta here.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head and took his jacket from the back of the chair. The phone began ringing, and he asked, “Want me to get that?”
“No. Get going,” she said, standing. “Hello?”
“Sheryl? Has Matt left yet?”
Speak of the devil, Sheryl thought. “He’s on his way out the door.”
“Well, stop him. Tell him I found Homer and he doesn’t need to come over.”
Sheryl peered out the kitchen window. Matt was just unlocking his car door. Covering the receiver with her hand, she shouted for him. He looked up and then trotted back to the house.
“The search and rescue party is off. Kate found the dog.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
The knock on the door came at eight o’clock in the morning. Kate had just fallen asleep an hour before. It had been one of the worst nights of her life. She could remember only one other that had been as bad, and that was the never-ending night after Paul’s death.
The knock came again and the doorbell rang as Kate, practically sleepwalking, shuffled to the front door. She confronted a man in his early thirties and a young boy she assumed was his son. The boy, his eyes downcast, was holding a leash that was attached to Homer, who wagged his tail when he saw Kate.
“Homer!” she cried out, kneeling down to take the dog’s huge jaw in her hand. “Where have you been?”
“Mrs. Armstrong?”
“Where did you find him?” Kate asked, still petting the dog.
“We didn’t exactly find him, Mrs. Armstrong.” Kate looked up and the man was taken aback at the look of pain on her face. “I’m really sorry about this. You see, my son, Mark, was a big fan of your husband’s …” His voice trailed off as Kate closed her eyes for a moment. “Are you all right?” She nodded. “Anyway, we live on the next street. By the way, I’m Jim Hunter.”
What was she expected to do? Invite him in for a cup of coffee? Kate remained silent, and the man went on, obviously flustered.
“Like I was saying, we live over on Hancock, and Mark here saw your dog yesterday afternoon …” Despite the cold, the man was starting to sweat, as Kate vacantly stared at him. “Mark, tell her.”
The boy couldn’t have been more than ten years old and his eyes grew large with fright. Kate—despite being tired, hungover, and still in shock over the night’s events—sat down cross-legged in front of him and tried to smile. “Did Homer behave while he was visiting you?”
The boy nodded and then blurted out, “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Armstrong. I just wanted to play with him for a while. He wanted to play. I could tell.”
“Y’see,” the father continued. “Mark knew he was your dog. We didn’t know he had him until last night. Late.”
“Homer slept with me …”
“Mark hid him in his room and we discovered him when he started barking. But by that time it was too late to bring him over. We’re really sorry for any trouble we may have caused you.”
Trouble? Kate thought. Mister, you don’t know trouble.
She held her hand out to the boy. “Thanks for taking such good care of Homer, Mark. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault for not getting the hole in my fence fixed, but believe me, I’ll have that taken care of this weekend.” Kate let go of his warm hand and struggled to stand. “If you’ll wait here, please.”
Kate returned a few minutes later holding a baseball cap. Handing it to the little boy, she said, “This was Paul’s. See? It’s got his name stitched on the inside. I think he’d want you to have it for helping Homer.”
The look of awe on the boy’s face made her turn away, her eyes suddenly hot with tears. “Come on, Homer.” She bent to unsnap the leash. “Time for breakfast.” She thrust the leash out to the man and quickly went inside and closed the door.
Giving in to the anger she felt at the senselessness of what had happened, Kate leaned against the door, put her face in her hands, and began crying. Homer sat in front of her, head cocked to one side, watching.
Kate sat in the den Sunday morning, reddened eyes on the clock, watching the hands slowly push Mike home. Unknowingly, she picked at a ragged cuticle on her thumb until the pain filtered through and she looked down to see blood smeared on her hands, her jeans.
She sprang out of the armchair and tried to think what to do with herself. Nervous, unable to sleep the night before, Kate knew she couldn’t wait in the empty house any longer. She needed to think but the walls were closing in on her, and the right words that would explain her fall from grace to Mike were elusive.
He’ll hate us both.
She didn’t know when he’d arrive. She only knew it would be too soon, because what could she possibly say to make him understand what had happened? Nothing. There were absolutely no words that would make the truth sound anything but repulsive.
God, she wanted a drink so badly. Pain gripped her stomach and the clock struck ten.
He’ll hate us …
She had to talk to someone. Tell the story out loud, as if that would make it seem a little less hideous. A little more justifiable.
“I am in so much trouble,” Kate said. And then, voice shaking, she told Julia everything. But she’d been wrong. It didn’t sound any less disgusting.
Julia, to her credit, remained silent during Kate’s admission. But when Kate finished with, “I need to tell him,” Julia succinctly said, “Sugar, if you do, you’ll break his heart.”
“If I don’t, I’ll have to live with it for the rest of my life. I can’t do that, either.”
“You’re Catholic. Go to confession, Kate. God will understand, but Michael is human, and he won’t.”
She knew Julia was right.
You’ll break his heart.
Kate walked out of the house. She spent the day driving through the valley, and out of habit ended up at the cemetery. She sat under the giant beech tree, bundled up against the cold, staring at Paul’s gravestone while the word “betrayal” lodged itself in a corner of her brain. And, like a cancer, it began to grow until it was all she heard or felt. She had betrayed everyone—herself most of all.
The sky was nearly dark when she got home. Mike’s truck was parked across the street, and the familiar sight made her heart stutter. But not with fear. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open her front door and stepped inside the silent house.
Without a thought, Kate climbed the stairs. The sound of water filling the tub echoed against the tiles. The scent of lavender clouded the bathroom.
Kate stripped off her clothes and found herself staring into the full-length mirror that hung on the door. Unhooking her bra, she let it fall to the floor, then pushed her panties down over her hips and stepped out of them. It had been a long time since she’d really looked at her body.
She supposed she was lucky. Her breasts were still fairly firm, but then she barely filled a B cup. No stretch marks marred her belly and this always made her sad. She would listen to women with children complain about them, and envied them their scars that actually meant something. Her hip bones jutted out—more than before—and her thighs had lost some of their muscle tone. She didn’t turn to look at her backside. Didn’t want to look at the scar. Her eyes traveled up her pale body and she noticed her collarbone was more prominent. How much weight had she lost? The scale told her. Eight pounds since … when? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d weighed herself. The loss didn’t look good on her.
It should’ve been Mike. The only other man to see me this way should’ve been the one who loves me … The one I love.
She felt as if she’d lost a part of her soul.
Kate turned off the water, stepped into the steaming tub, and gingerly let herself down. As she lay back, eyes closed, and let the water lap over her body her last thought came back to her, and aloud she said, “The one I love.” She stopped breathing. Her eyes flew open. Won
drously, she repeated the words.
Mike gazed out the study window at the rectangle of blue light coming from her TV room, the mechanical pencil he held forgotten, along with the report he was trying to finish. He couldn’t concentrate.
Over an hour ago he had seen Kate pull up to the curb in front of her house. Seen her get out of the car and slowly walk to her front door. Seen her turn, look at his house for a second, and then enter her own. It was then he’d resolutely decided to stay put. If there was something she needed to say to him, she’d have to come across the street. And he’d gone back to the report he was working up for James Savage in Williamsburg.
How had he missed Kate exiting her house and traversing Frazier Street? The knock on his back door had come as a complete surprise. She’d looked up at him, and asked, “Can I come in for a minute?”
As he stepped aside to let her by, he was enveloped by the clean fragrance of lavender. And after closing the door and turning to face her, he saw her thick hair piled on her head, a few damp strands trailing down the nape of her neck.
Kate saw his eyes go to her hair and she put her hand up to it.
“Oh,” she said, by way of explanation. “I forgot to take it down. I was in the bath.”
Mike was inexplicably—unwillingly—aroused by the thought. He gestured impatiently, saying, “I’m a little busy …”
“Oh. Right.” Kate tried to smile. “How was Williamsburg?”
He’d nodded. “It’s still there. Never changes. What did you want, Kate?” He watched her smile fade, and her eyes dart away from his. Crap. He couldn’t seem to find that middle ground. “Sorry. I’m tried. Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
Kate swallowed and looked at him again. “I—uh. I just wanted to let you know I found Homer.”
“Good. Great. Where was he?”
Kate waved her hand. “Long story.”
“Is that it?”
Kate shook her head, and then the words burst out of her. “I really missed you, Mike.” She pushed past him. “That’s all. I’d better go …”
He’d smiled in spite of himself and followed her to the door. “Your call sounded a lot more urgent than you missed me. You could’ve said that on the phone.”
“Hey, you’re tired. We’ll talk later.” She stepped outside.
He held the screen door open with one hand and placed the other on the doorjamb. “Hey.” She turned around to face him. “I missed you, too.”
The next thing he knew, her arms were around his waist, her head on his chest, and although he tried to restrain himself, his arms reflexively took her in. But her hands moved up to his head. She’d pulled him down to meet her mouth and kissed him—he could think of no other word for it—desperately.
He’d managed to break it off. And when he did, she’d said, “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” and then she’d run back across the street, pursued by a demon he couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Now, sitting at his desk staring at the flickering light of Kate’s television that penetrated the darkness of Frazier Street, Mike wondered why she wanted forgiveness. He knew it wasn’t for the kiss. He could still feel its heat. Could still taste her tongue assaulting his.
As he bent his head to the desk again, the faint odor of lavender wafted up from his sweater, and he finally put the pencil down, unable to continue his work. His heart pounded as his mind said, There’s hope, after all.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Julia skimmed page after page of inventory, while Kate looked over her shoulder. “Here it is.” Her plum fingernail tapped on the paper. “I told you we’d already inventoried it.”
“I guess I’m just looking for an excuse to stay,” Kate said, straightening up.
It was only eleven-thirty on this final Monday of work, and Kate had hoped to avoid her house for the better part of the day.
“You’ll have to face them both eventually,” Julia stated, reading her thoughts.
“I know.”
“No confrontations, sugar. Remember what I told you.”
“I remember, Julia,” Kate said without conviction. “But I really don’t feel good about lying to Mike.”
“Honey, you’re not lying if the subject doesn’t come up.” Julia looked at Kate thoughtfully for a moment before deciding to go on. “Tell me, Kate. How much longer are you going to hold him at arm’s length? He’s been patient for a very long time and he’s only human. A wet kiss only goes so far.”
Kate turned on Julia. “I’m not ready! Look what happened with Matt.”
“Then the other women don’t bother you.”
“Did Mike say something to you?” Kate asked, trying desperately to hide the hint of jealousy she suddenly felt.
Pleased with herself, Julia said, “Well, now, sugar, I’m not sure. I asked him how his trip to Williamsburg went and he happened to mention running into his ex.”
“Really?” Kate feigned indifference. “I wonder what Allison was doing there?”
Julia shrugged her elegant shoulders, lit a cigarette, and casually exhaled. “Listen, honey, if it were me I’d want to know what all the fuss was about. And if it weren’t for you, I’d be trying to get him into my bed.”
Kate couldn’t hide her shock at Julia’s words. “You and Mike?”
“If not me, then someone else. The man’s not a monk. Surely you realize that, sugar.” Julia’s wicked grin appeared. “But the man absolutely worships you. Whatever that nineteen-year-old boy did can’t even begin to compare to a thirty something man. Talk about sexual healing. I’m very envious.” She could see Kate silently struggling with herself. But Kate wasn’t the only one. Julia’s conversation with Mike that morning had taken an unforeseen turn when he’d said he was considering a project that would take him out of town for three or four months. That he felt the need to distance himself from Kate for a while. This was especially surprising to Julia now that she knew Kate had made a small move in his direction.
Julia’s head won the battle. Mike needed to tell Kate himself. It was too important to be treated like gossip. Kate’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“I love him, Julia. I’ve loved him for a long time.” Kate’s eyes pleaded with Julia to understand. “He kisses me and I want more. And then I remember Paul, and I …” You what, Kate? She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t tell even Julia, who had now put her arms around Kate.
Julia hugged her tightly. “Paul was your whole life for so long, sweetie. Surely you can understand that it’s time for you to move on now.”
Kate pulled away. “I can’t start a relationship with a lie, Julia.”
“You made a mistake. You know that. Forgive yourself. If you don’t, you’re going to alienate Michael entirely.”
Kate was shaking her head. “You don’t understand.” Her hands covered her mouth and her eyes closed, as she tried to find a way to tell Julia the truth. She finally said, “My marriage to Paul—”
Julia interrupted, saying, “You can’t compare every man to Paul. It’s a no-win situation. You’re so busy holding Michael up next to Paul, you can’t see what’s real.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Julia. I’ve known the reality of my marriage to Paul for years.” Julia’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. Kate, frustrated, sank into the sofa. She looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and then met Julia’s eyes. “Let me ask you something. What was it really like between you and Jeffrey?”
Julia, baffled by this change of subject, sat on the arm of an overstuffed chair and stared at Kate. “Whew, sugar! You’ve lost me.”
“Come on, Julia. Just tell me.”
Julia reached for another cigarette, lit it, and after a moment’s thought, began speaking. “I thought I was the luckiest woman on earth when I found Jeffrey. He wasn’t what most women would call handsome. He wasn’t much taller than me, and he had a lot more forehead than most men his age, but he was in terrific shape. He had beautiful eyes. I loved the way
they looked at me …”
Her voice trailed off, and Kate waited for Julia to continue.
“We met at a New Year’s Eve party. He flirted with me outrageously. Well—you know that’s my forte, and I matched him innuendo for innuendo. He was witty, bright, intelligent, and he had a wonderful laugh. He called me every night for a week, and our conversations would last for hours.” Julia smiled, remembering. “We had wonderful debates. By the end of the week I knew I was in love with him, and we hadn’t even slept together. Imagine that!”
For a few seconds Julia stopped talking, and Kate listened to the years that had passed—wasted.
“A week after that we were sitting in a restaurant and he told me he loved me. I begged him to take me to bed right then. I’d had my share of men up to that point, but Lord, how he made me feel! That’s when I told him I loved him. We were married three weeks later.” Julia’s eyes shone. “I guess if you wanted to reduce our relationship to one word, it would be ‘respect.’ Decisions were made mutually, but we each had our own life and interests. We weren’t exactly young and we already knew what our lives were all about. We loved being together, but we weren’t joined at the hip. We didn’t need each other to be happy. We were just lucky enough that being together made life better.” Julia stood to stub out the cigarette.
“I’ve had that same relationship, Julia,” Kate said, as she gazed at a small figurine on the coffee table. She decided to finally say it out loud. “Not with my husband, though.” Kate breathed in deeply and looked up at Julia. “With Mike. My marriage—most of it, anyway—was a joke. I can’t even begin to guess how many women Paul slept with while we were married. He didn’t understand me and I certainly didn’t understand him. I couldn’t have children and he never let me forget it. And he wouldn’t let me adopt.”
Julia’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, sugar,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know …”
Kate shrugged. “The crazy part is I still cared about him. He was my world. But every so often, when Mike would come into our lives again, I saw another world. The one you just told me about. And that scared me, Julia, because I wanted to live in that other world and I didn’t know how that was possible. I learned to live with Paul’s lies because I had my own little secret.” Kate’s voice had become a whisper. “I’ve never said this out loud. But Julia, there were so many times in all those years that I wished Paul away because I wanted his best friend.” Kate dropped her head in her hands. “His best friend, Julia!”
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