“You said that last week.”
Kate winced. “I did, didn't I? This time I mean it.”
Oliver brought the swing's gentle rocking to a sudden halt. “Kate, you need to consider your position as the single mother of two young boys. When people see you with a man like Randall Johnson, they'll start to think the wrong thing. And the boys may hear about it. I know you well enough to know that you aren't that sort of woman, but other people might not.”
For some reason, Kate felt obliged to defend Randall. “He's not as black as he's painted.”
“He won't marry you. A man like that is interested in only one thing, and once he gets it, he'll forget your name.”
Kate rolled her eyes at how wrong Oliver was. His persistence on the subject was beginning to irritate her. “I saw Randall Johnson twice—or three times, if you count the soccer game, which I don't. I don't have any expectations of him, and I don't plan to see him again. Now could we talk about something else?”
Oliver stood up and paced across the porch, leaving the swing vibrating under Kate. “I don't think you realize how people like Randall Johnson live. They don't care who they hurt in the process of pursuing their own gratification.”
“Yes, well, at least he's not hurting a wife,” Kate said bitterly as she took a gulp of wine.
Oliver must have caught the edge in her voice because he swung around to look at her closely. “What do you mean?”
Kate shrugged. “Just that he's had the sense not to get married since he wants to fool around.” She looked Oliver straight in the eye. “Some men aren't that honest.”
“What are you getting at?”
Using her anger to give her courage, Kate took the plunge. “What do you know about David and Sylvia?” She practically choked on the name. She waited, wondering if he really knew, and if he would try to protect David.
Oliver turned away and stared out over the yard. “You knew about Sylvia?”
Oliver knew.
“Not knew, know. I found out the hard way. Right after you came here to talk about taking on a new partner, I discovered a letter that she wrote to David. It wasn't a pleasant experience to learn that my deceased husband had been committing adultery shortly before his death.”
Oliver glanced briefly at her, then looked away again. “No, I imagine that it wasn't.” He suddenly came back to sit beside her on the swing, saying, “I'm so sorry you had to find out about it. But David had ended the relationship before he died. You must believe me about that.”
“How long had he been sleeping with her? And who was she?”
Oliver's concerned expression vanished. “I don't think that you need to know the sordid details. David made a terrible mistake, but he realized it and stopped.”
“I would hardly call knowing who my husband's mistress was and how long she had been his mistress details,” Kate said. Softening her voice, she tried a different approach.
“You're my friend, Oliver. I need to know these things to help myself deal with this horrible blow to my whole concept of my married life. And you're the only person who can help me because the person I would normally ask is dead.”
Oliver drummed his fingers on the swing's arm. “Why do you want to hear about David's infidelity? It can only hurt you.”
“I'm already hurt to the very bottom of my soul,” Kate said quietly. “And I can't start healing until I know what happened and why it happened.”
“Christ, I don't know why it happened. I don't think that David knew why it happened.”
“That's crap. David let it happen.”
Oliver looked shocked. Then he changed tack.
“Now you know why I'm so disturbed by your involvement with Randall Johnson. I don't want to see you mixed up with another man who will not treat you well. You deserve better.”
“I appreciate your concern. But you could demonstrate it more constructively by telling me what you know about David's affair.”
Oliver shook his head. “I'm sorry, Kate. I don't see what could be gained by bringing up old ghosts.”
“Isn't that my decision to make?” Kate was furious at his patronizing assumption that he knew what was best for her.
Oliver shook his head again. “When you think about it calmly you'll be glad I didn't tell you.”
Kate made a wordless sound of anger and frustration. She got up and walked across the porch, crossing her arms and leaning her hip on the railing.
“I got involved with Randall because I was angry with David.” She paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. “In fact, I went to bed with Randall because I was angry with David. And he hasn't forgotten my name. Now would you like to tell me about Sylvia?”
Oliver's look of horrified disbelief would have been funny if Kate had been anywhere near a laughing mood. He said quietly, “How could you demean yourself that way?”
Kate felt a flush spreading up her neck to her face, but her sense of shame evaporated when Oliver stood up and strode over to her. His gray eyes had grown dark and his face was set in harsh lines. Putting his hands on the railing on either side of her hips, he leaned in close to her. “I love you, Kate. You're everything that I admire in a woman. But I wanted you to have time to mourn David. So, like a decent human being, I kept my feelings bottled up inside.” Oliver pushed back and paced across the porch. “Now I find out that you've jumped into bed with a man who has nothing to recommend him but a pile of new money. It turns my stomach to think about it!”
Kate slumped against the railing and dragged in a shaky breath. “I had no idea...” Her voice quavered slightly. “I don't know quite what to say.”
In two strides Oliver was again in front of her. Kate jumped when he brought his hands up but he just took her gently by the shoulders. “Say that you'll look at me as more than a friend. I never understood how David could be unfaithful to you. I told him what a fool he was, and I tried to protect you from knowing about his affair. When he died, I'm ashamed to say that once I got over the blow of losing my best friend, I was almost happy because now I had a clear chance with you.”
Kate closed her eyes to block out the face that suddenly seemed like a stranger's. She felt her precariously balanced world tilting on its axis and struggled to stay calm. Steady, quiet Oliver had nurtured a hidden passion for her? He had helped David hide his affair from her? And he was upset by her fling with Randall Johnson?
She opened her eyes fast when she felt his lips touch hers gently, then insistently. Holding very still, she pressed her lips together and willed him to stop. But Oliver took his time exploring the curves of her mouth. When he finally drew back, he showed no sign of apology or embarrassment.
To forestall any further intimacy, Kate hurried into speech. “I need to think about this. I'm very fond of you but I need some time to consider you in this other way.” She tried to smile. “It might be a good idea for you to go home now.”
“Of course,” Oliver said, as his hands slid down her arms. He grasped her hands in his and squeezed them gently. “I'll call you tomorrow. We'll go out for dinner and talk.”
“That sounds fine,” she said to placate him. She walked with him to the kitchen and put the counter between them as she said good night. Oliver hesitated a moment, then lifted his hand in farewell and let himself out the back door. Kate collapsed into a chair and, resting her elbows on the counter, rubbed her hands across her mouth.
“Hey, Mom, did Oliver leave already?” Clay asked as he came down the steps. “I wanted to show him something on the Internet.”
Kate lifted her head and said, “He was in a hurry and didn't have a chance to say good-bye.”
“That's weird.” Clay looked at her curiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just a little tired.”
Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.
Clay gave her a quick squeeze back. Then she let him go because she knew that at his age being hugged by his mother – even in private – embarrassed him. “W
hy don't you show me whatever it is on the Internet?” she suggested.
“Sure.” Clay launched into an explanation as she followed him up the stairs, leaving her problems with Oliver firmly behind in the kitchen.
Once the boys were in bed, Kate poured herself a glass of wine, closed the door to the family room and dialed Georgia's telephone number.
“Hey, Kate. How are you?”
“Crazed. Off balance. Thrown for a loop.”
“Whoa, girl. You didn't find another letter to David from some other woman?”
Kate snorted. “I wish. This has to do with the living. You're not going to believe this but Oliver Russell just told me that he loves me.”
“I wondered when he would get around to that. He hangs around your family way too much for a normal single man.”
“He was David's friend,” Kate insisted. “He likes all of us.”
“I think that he likes the whole idea of your family; you all are so picture perfect.”
“You make us sound like the Brady Bunch.”
“If the shoe fits...”
“Why didn't you warn me?” Kate collapsed in her chair. “I feel like I'm at some weird costume party. Now it's midnight and everybody is ripping off their masks and the faces underneath are scarier than the masks. You'll probably turn out to be the twin sister who was separated from me at birth.”
“Wasn't that in the last episode of Days of Our Lives?”
“Great, my life's become a soap opera. You know the worst part of all this? I don't trust my own judgment anymore. I'm afraid to do anything, to decide anything because I've been so completely wrong about my life.”
“Don't let other people's betrayals change the way you think. It's not a bad thing to assume the best about the people you love.”
Kate choked on a laugh. “Even when I assume the worst about someone, I'm wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
Kate realized that she had gotten herself tangled up in the web of her own lies. Kate explained the soccer game bet and glossed over the rest of the evening.
Georgia whistled. “It looks like Johnson is in hot pursuit. I'm jealous but I have to warn you about this one: you're playing with fire.”
Kate sighed. She knew it all too well. “It's just an ego problem. I'm supposed to fall at his feet instead of refusing his invitations.”
“Listen, this is way too complicated to discuss on the telephone. The soonest I can get over there is Wednesday night. We'll have a nice long talk. Do you think that you can fend off your two lovers until then?”
Nine
The boys were at school. The weekend's laundry was on the heavy-duty cycle in the washing machine. Kate poured another cup of coffee, pulled on a light jacket and walked out onto the porch with Gretchen at her heels. The cheerful sunlight streaming through the brilliantly colored leaves that framed her porch made the scene with Oliver the previous night seem like an insubstantial nightmare.
Kate sipped her coffee and reached down to pat the dog. “So where do I stand now, Gretchen? I don't have a job. I'm running out of money. My husband was unfaithful. I'm keeping secrets from my best friend, and Oliver has turned into Mr. Hyde. My attempt at a one-night stand was a disaster. All I need now is to find out that Clay and Patrick are drug dealers.”
She sank down on the porch floor, wrapped her arms around Gretchen's warm, furry neck and sobbed into her shoulder. “I built my life so carefully. Why is it all falling apart?” The dog sat patiently as Kate cried.
At last, she ran out of tears. Gretchen nosed her face in mute concern, and she took a deep breath.
“You're right, Gretch. If my life has fallen to pieces, it's up to me to rebuild it. Only this time, with myself as the foundation.”
She pushed herself up from the wooden planks, dusted off her jeans and went back to the kitchen to dump out her cold coffee. As she was rinsing the cup, the telephone rang.
“Kate? This is Susan Chen from Adler Associates Engineering. I used to work with Phil Gabelli.”
“Of course, Susan. What a pleasure to hear from you!”
Kate had worked for Phil Gabelli herself for two years and had sent him her resume in the hope that he might have a position for her. He had been unable to hire her, but had promised to see if he could find someone else who might be able to. Kate sent a silent prayer of thanks his way as Susan continued.
“Phil forwarded your resume to me with a strong recommendation. Right now, we need a creative solution for a particular project, and we need it quickly.”
“Oh?” Kate made her interest clear.
Susan laughed. “It's a bridge on a heavily used commuter highway in Connecticut. The bridge isn't such a problem, but the design has to include a viable rerouting of traffic while it's under construction. Someone has to go up and scout the location, then come back with suggestions. It's a demanding project, but the firm would like to get in with the Connecticut highway people; they've got a lot more work coming up.”
“It sounds like a full-time position,” Kate said.
“If we get the job, it is. More than full-time.”
Kate hesitated. A full-time job. Maybe she should consult Clay and Patrick first? It would be a big change for them. But this sounded so wonderful...
“Susan, I'm very intrigued. Could I come in and talk with you about it?”
“How about tomorrow at lunchtime? That's the only time I'm free, believe it or not.”
“I'll be there.”
Kate hung up and blew out a breath. To build a bridge! Her all-time hero was Othmar Ammann, the designer of the George Washington Bridge. She danced a little jig around the kitchen table. Then she stopped dead. What did she know about traffic flow? How out-of-date were her design skills? And there was the prospect of leaving Clay and Patrick alone for the hours after school. How would she cook them dinner and supervise their homework?
“What am I thinking? I can't do this...”
Gretchen's tail thumped on the floor.
“You have confidence in me?” Kate asked her.
Gretchen's tail thumped harder.
“You're right. We'll cross each bridge as we come to it – or in this case – we'll build each bridge as we come to it.”
Kate waited until the boys tossed down their backpacks and rummaged through the refrigerator for snacks. Then she said, “I've had a job offer.”
“That's terrific, Mom!” Patrick said around a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese. “What are you going to build?”
“Hopefully, a bridge.”
Clay chimed in. “That's perfect! You've always wanted to build a bridge.”
Kate was warmed by their enthusiasm. “It sounds very interesting, but there's a big problem with this job. It's full-time and then some, if I get it.”
Clay and Patrick were quiet for a minute. Then Patrick said hopefully, “So we'll be having more pizza for dinner?”
“Probably,” Kate said.
“Cool!”
“You'll get tired of it,” Kate warned. Patrick looked unconvinced but left it at that. Kate took a deep breath. She had debated how frank she should be with her children. But she realized that they were growing up. They should be able to participate in the decision fully informed.
“Here's the bottom line. I've worked out some numbers, and if I work full-time, and we don't have Brigid come in the afternoon, we can continue to live here about the same way we do now. If I can find a part-time job, we might or might not be able to stay here, but we would definitely have to spend less money on everything. And if I don't find any job, we will have to move to a smaller house, possibly just to rent. And we'll have to make some serious choices about spending money.”
Kate paused a moment to let them absorb what she had said. “I don't know what the right answer is. We all need to think about it. However, I have to point out that part-time engineering jobs seem to be few and far between, so that option may not be a real one.”
Clay said with complete convi
ction, “I think that you should go for the full-time job, Mom. You can trust me to be responsible for myself and Patrick in the afternoon.”
The boys looked at each other for a long moment and then Patrick gave a slight nod. Clay continued, “We want to stay here and we want you to build a bridge.”
“I know that I can trust both of you.” Kate surreptitiously touched the wooden cabinet twice with her knuckles. “I just want to be sure that you two are happy and comfortable.”
“I promise to start my homework as soon as I get back from dog-walking,” Patrick said.
“And learn to write down phone messages,” Clay added.
Patrick socked Clay in the arm. In his new role of mature elder brother, Clay rolled his eyes but refrained from retaliating.
“You guys are the greatest,” Kate said, walking between them to give them both a quick squeeze around the shoulders. “I'm meeting with Susan Chen tomorrow to talk about the job. That gives you another twenty-four hours to think about this. It's not too late to change your minds.”
“We're too old for Brigid to watch us anymore, anyway,” Clay said, then added firmly, “Mom, we can handle it.”
“I'm sure you can. I'm just not sure that I can,” Kate said.
The next afternoon she came home with a map and a job offer, both of which she contemplated with numerous misgivings.
Susan was willing to hire her on the strength of Phil Gabelli's verbal recommendation, even though Kate hadn't worked with him in over fourteen years. Kate wasn't sure Susan trusted Phil that much. Her instincts during the interview told her that the job was such a long shot that Adler Associates didn't really expect to win the contract.
Clay and Patrick burst in the door. “Did you get the job?” they asked almost simultaneously.
“Yes, if the firm gets the contract,” Kate said.
“Way to go, Mom!”
“Yahoo!”
They both gave her high fives and then Clay surprised her by hugging her. “Don't worry about us. You concentrate on the bridge.”
A Bridge to Love Page 9
