I'd been waiting for this kiss all my life.
*
"I'm sorry, but you need to leave now."
Not really the words a woman wants to hear upon awakening the morning after she was banged silly.
But Jonathan was holding a cup of coffee, and his expression was...well, it wasn't clenched, angry or disappointed.
It wasn't quite happy, either. I accepted the coffee and sat up, covering my naked self with the sheet, unsure of how to feel. On the one hand, I felt amazing. I'd been shagged to within an inch of my life. Three times, mind you.
On the other hand, Jonathan was kicking me out.
"I have to get my daughters in half an hour."
"Right. Okay. Well." I took a sip of the coffee and looked up at him.
He sat on the edge of the bed. "Thank you."
"Oh, sure. Salads and sex. My specialty."
His hair was mussed, curling over his forehead, and my hand wanted to smooth it back. But my hand wasn't quite brave enough to do that, because you know that old saying about the cold light of day. Also, his resting bitch face was on.
Or maybe it was the shyness again.
"I'll call you tomorrow," he said.
"Okay. Great. I'll just...get out of bed, then."
"Good."
Back to Captain Flatline. Still, a man without a heartbeat couldn't do the things he'd done to me last night. Nuh-uh.
He seemed to read my thoughts, because he leaned forward and kissed my bare shoulder, the faint scrape of razor stubble in contrast to his soft, warm lips, and my hand worked up the courage to stroke that hair.
"You need to go," he murmured.
So much for my dreamy state. "And you need to work on your pillow talk," I said. He gave a nod of acknowledgment, and I couldn't help a smile.
I got out of bed, grabbed my dress, which he'd thoughtfully brought in, and got dressed in the bathroom. The mirror showed a serious case of bedhead, smeared mascara under my eyes and a glow to my complexion. I couldn't wait to tell Kate about this; I'd sent her a quick text last night between rounds one and two, letting her know I wouldn't be home.
Jonathan was waiting downstairs, standing by the door. "Okay. Uh...talk to you tomorrow," I said.
"Yes." He started to say something else, then opted against it, leaned forward and kissed me gently.
Everything in me softened. Brain, heart, bones. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. "Bye," I whispered, then fumbled with the door handle. Left, right, push, pull, nothing worked.
He reached around me and opened the door. "Bye," he said, his voice so deep it was just a vibration in my chest.
I glanced back at him as I walked down the path.
He was smiling.
I tripped, staggered, managed not to fall. "I'm fine," I said. "Bye. Have fun with your daughters."
"Ainsley?" he called.
"Yes?"
"Your car is at the office."
Right. There was that. "So do I have to walk back?"
"You do not." He came down the walk, keys in hand.
As usual, the ride was mostly in silence. This time, however, it felt different. Silence, I was coming to realize, could mean quite a lot.
When we got to the parking lot of Hudson Lifestyle, I leaned over, kissed my boss on the cheek, earning a flash of a smile. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said.
"Roger dodger," I replied, not even minding the fact that I sounded idiotic.
I almost hit a tree on the way home, thinking about that mouth, and those hands, and his eyes. And his voice. And his smile.
He'd call me tomorrow. And that would be lovely.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kate
On Sunday afternoon, as I was leaving the studio after reviewing approximately a million and twelve photos Max had tweaked in Photoshop, I saw a woman walking down the street. She held a bouquet of yellow flowers in her arm and was beautifully dressed in a red pencil skirt and white top with capped short sleeves. Strappy black shoes with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a murder weapon.
I myself was sweaty and stale, since the air-conditioning wasn't working in the studio. I wore skinny jeans and a T-shirt that said I Mac & Cheese, the heart made of macaroni noodles. Beat-up sandals. In Brooklyn, I'd look normal. In Cambry-on-Hudson, I looked homeless. I'd have to go shopping soon. I was a wealthy woman now, and I lived in a wealthy town. If I wanted to, I could dress like that woman, every day, even.
I studied her for a minute more, hoping to impress her fashion sense into my brain, then realized who it was.
Madeleine.
"Hey!" I called sharply. "Madeleine!" I ran down the street. "Madeleine!"
She stopped in front of Bliss, turned and saw me. Her face froze.
"Hi," I said, coming to a stop in front of her, already winded from the half-block run. Must make use of Nathan's elliptical more often. And how was this for irony? The ex-wife and the widow in front of a wedding dress store.
Her lipstick was perfect. And that haircut, damn. Eons better than my sloppy ponytail.
Her eyes wandered over me, full of judgment, and I felt a biting, acidic anger churn in my stomach.
"What?" she said. No niceties, then.
Just then, Jenny opened Bliss's front door. "Hey, Kate, I thought that was you!" she said, giving me a hug. "Great to see you. Gorgeous day, isn't it?" She looked at Madeleine. "Hi. I'm Jenny, a friend of Kate's."
Madeleine didn't answer.
"This is Nathan's ex-wife," I said flatly.
Still Madeleine didn't stop looking at me.
Jenny looked back at me. "Well. I have a dress to make. Uh...see you later!" She gave me a smile and went back inside, leaving me alone on the sidewalk with her.
"You do remember me, right?" I asked sharply. "Kate O'Leary. Nathan's wife."
"Of course I remember," she said.
"I've been meaning to talk to you. Would you like to get a drink?"
She glanced at her watch, her perfectly groomed eyebrow rising a bit in disapproval. "It's only two o'clock."
"You can have water," I said. "Maybe somewhere more private. How about that bar in Tarrytown? Where all those new condos are?"
*
She made me wait.
The bar was new but was trying to look old, with distressed wood and reproduction light fixtures. It was fairly empty, as we were between the lunch and dinner crowds. Outside, though, it was crowded; a band played over by the marina, and there was a bounce house. Kids of all ages rode their bikes, and well-dressed couples walked along the riverfront path. Very cheerful, very Americana, very different from the bitter black hate that tarred my insides.
Finally, she came in. "Sorry about the delay. I went to the cemetery."
The first shot across the bow.
"What can I get you ladies today?" our server asked.
"Grey Goose, straight up," I said.
"Perrier for me with a slice of lemon, please," Madeleine said.
We waited in silence, eyeing each other. A staring match, almost. Finally, the girl came back. "Anything to eat today?" she asked.
"Just the drinks," Madeleine said. "We'll need some privacy, too." She smiled up at the girl, who nodded and scurried off. Then she looked at me, her smile dropping. "Well?"
I took a glug of my vodka, welcoming the icy burn. "Guess what I found? Your emails to my husband, telling him you never stopped loving him."
"I never did stop," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Or you didn't want to see him happily married to someone else and got a bug up your ass to make him miserable."
"I'm sure he was miserable, since he was with the wrong woman."
Wow. I had to admire her nerve.
"If you were so right, you should've stayed married. You could've had four more years with him." You could've been his widow, not me.
"Believe me, I'm well aware of that."
I slurped down the rest of my vodka. One didn't confront one's dead husband's ex-
wife without fortification, no, sir. "So why did you let him go? And for the love of God, why did you torture him with those emails after we got married?"
She took a sip of her drink and smoothed her red hair behind one ear. "He didn't tell you about me, did he?" she asked, her voice low and smug. Yeah, smug.
"He told me quite a bit, actually." That was a lie.
"Mmm-hmm. Did he tell you I was a foster child? That I was moved fourteen times in eighteen years? That I was abused and neglected?"
Ah, shit. Now I was going to feel sorry for her. No, no, I wasn't. I imagined Ainsley giving me an elbow to the ribs.
"I guess you didn't know that," she continued. "But I didn't let that define me. I went to college on a full scholarship. Graduate school, too. That's where we met. And we loved each other in a way you can't possibly imagine."
My mouth fell open. "Wow...your ego is really healthy."
"I'm just stating a fact. We were so happy together, so in love. Our life was perfect."
"Except for the part where you got a divorce. Tiny detail, but one worth mentioning."
"That was a rash decision. We were always so passionate. The fights we'd have..." She smiled fondly. "The makeup sex. Did he tell you we didn't stop seeing each other after the divorce?"
He had not.
But the Nathan I'd known wouldn't have cheated on me. Would he?
"Oh, yes. We saw each other regularly." She took a sip of her water. "Right up until he met you. But I knew he still loved me."
I unlocked my jaw. "Not quite enough, though, right? Since he married me and all."
She gave me a pitying smile. "He was going to leave you."
"I'm not so sure about that. We were trying to have a baby."
"Yes, he did want children. And you're right. I didn't realize he'd marry someone for the sole purpose of breeding." She gave me another once-over. "He probably should've chosen someone a little younger."
"Jesus! You're breathtakingly rude."
"You're the one who wanted to have a drink. Would you like another? Maybe some macaroni and cheese to soak up some of the alcohol?"
"I'd love some. Miss?" I waved to the server. "Can I have an order of macaroni and cheese? And another round?"
"Of course," she said. "Would you like bacon or lobster with that?"
"How about both?" I beamed at her--at least the server would like me better, if not my husband. "Anything for you, Madeleine? A blade of grass to chew on?" That's right, bitch. He told me you were a vegan. We ate meat together. Deal with it.
She rolled her eyes. The happy sounds from outside grated against my brain like a dentist's drill.
"Do you get visits from him?" she asked, leaning forward with mock compassion. "I do. Little signs, things only he would know. Sometimes I hear him say my name."
"Usually after a few drinks, am I right?"
"I don't seem to be the one with the drinking problem."
Shit. Good retort.
The girl returned with my food and refill.
I didn't want to eat, but now it seemed like a moral imperative. Spooning up some of the gooey dish, I took a bite. It wasn't hot enough and it didn't taste very good, either.
"How is it?" Madeleine asked with a condescending smile.
"Delicious. Want some?"
"I don't eat things that once had a heartbeat."
"That's what he said," I mumbled around the food.
Madeleine narrowed her eyes. "Look, Kate," she said, making my name sound like a curse. "I don't know what I can tell you. I loved him. He loved me. Because of my difficult childhood, I didn't think I wanted children. When I saw how desperate he was to be a father--desperate enough to date you, a stranger--I changed my mind about children. And from then on, it was just a matter of time before we got back together."
"Riddle me this, then, Batman," I said, the vodka loosening my tongue. "He met me. We dated. We had a blast. We had so much fun and happiness that we got married. And it was great! So yeah, he answered your pathetic emails. Politely, because he was a kind person. But he didn't leave me. He loved me."
"Tell yourself what you need to. I know in my heart what was true. We were..." She shook her head, the image of her and Nathan's love too big for mere words. "He felt obligated to you. I think he felt sorry for you, honestly. So yes, he stayed. For a little while." She gave an elegant shrug. "And then you needed another glass of wine, I heard. And now he's dead."
I let that sit a moment.
Then I took my bowl of mac and cheese, stood up and dumped it on her head.
She gasped and lurched back from the table. "Lunch is on me," I said. "Well, figuratively, of course. Literally speaking, lunch is on you."
*
My hands were still shaking ten minutes later.
I was too angry to drive (not to mention the two vodkas), so I walked around out to the park, sloppily dodging dogs, joggers and kids on tricycles. It was wide-open here and flat, not like Bixby Park with its woods and paths. Not like Prospect, which was practically a forest.
I got to the lookout and stared at the new bridge. Sailboats dotted the blue of the water and speedboats motored past, coming in and out of the marina. Somewhere behind me, a band played Van Morrison's old hit "Brown Eyed Girl."
I had brown eyes. Had Nathan and I ever heard this song together? Had he ever called me his brown-eyed girl? We'd never danced to it; we'd danced only a couple of times, at one of his parents' benefits, and it was more of the Benny Goodman type of event.
Well, meeting Madeleine had been a huge mistake. Hopefully, she wouldn't sue me.
I pulled my phone out of my backpack and called Eloise. "Hi, it's Kate," I said.
"Kate, deah, how are you?"
"I'm... Listen, I'd like to get rid of that bench in Bixby Park, okay? It's upsetting me."
"Of course. Let me make the call, deah. No need for you to do it. I agree. It was very inappropriate of her."
We made plans for lunch, and this time, it didn't feel so awful. It felt, in fact, like I had an ally.
Speaking of allies, I called Ainsley. The call went to voice mail. Shit. Wasn't it always the way? Just when I wanted to talk, she wasn't around. "Hey, I'm down at the river walk in Tarrytown," I said. "I'll be later than I thought." Because I got a little drunk with Nathan's ex-wife and dumped food on her head.
I wandered over to a tree and sat down, leaning against the trunk. Took my camera out of my bag and shot the bridge, the boats, some kids, a dog. None of the shots were any good. Everything looked fake and staged.
Also, the tree trunk was grinding into my spine. So I lay down instead. The grass prickled my arms. The sky was so fiercely blue I had to close my eyes.
Are you up there, Nathan? Are you okay? Did you really love me, or was she right?
I didn't get an answer. Instead, I fell asleep.
I woke up sometime later with one of those sharp snore-snorts, then blinked. The sky wasn't quite as blue as before.
Daniel the Hot Firefighter was sitting next to me. "Hi," I said.
"Hi. Hope you don't mind, but we just had sex."
I snorted again--laughter this time. "Did we emotionally scar any children?"
He gave me a steamy look, sleepy eyes and raised eyebrow. "You were pretty dirty."
"What are you doing here? Other than molesting sleeping widows?"
"I was helping Jane with her horrible kids. Thought I'd get a beer and called your landline. Had it mixed up with your cell phone, and your sister told me you were down here."
"Yeah. Just taking it all in."
"I thought I saw you at the Re-Enter Center a couple weeks ago. At the fund-raiser?"
"I made an appearance."
"You left pretty early." He started picking blades of grass.
"I did. My sister and I had plans."
My cheeks felt hot, whether from the drinks, the sun, the nap or the fact that D the HF was sitting next to me, I wasn't sure.
It was also a little embarrassing to
admit that I'd left a party because he'd shown up with a date.
"So how are things?" he asked.
"Good."
"You read those emails."
I nodded.
"And they made you feel like shit?"
"Yep."
"You should've listened to Uncle Dan." He stretched out next to me, all male beauty and muscle. "What did they say?"
I watched as a little girl ran after her older brother, which reminded me--Sean hadn't called in a while. Too busy living his perfect life.
I cleared my throat. "His ex still loved him and wanted him to leave me, but he was very content with me and didn't want to hurt me." My words were careful.
"That's it?"
"I thought it was pretty earthshaking."
"Doesn't sound that bad to me." I cut him a look. "But then again, I'm a guy, so I'm thick." We were quiet for a minute. "No, it's not so bad," he said. "Content is pretty great. You want what you have and have what you want. Nothing wrong with content."
"She said he was going to leave me. He just felt guilty."
"So? What does she know? He didn't leave you. Let it go, Kate."
I sighed. "It's just that if I had known any of this was going on, I would never have married him."
"Why?"
"Because he was...torn."
"Was he? He married you. That seems pretty decisive."
"And then he died, Daniel. I'm a widow. If I'd known he'd been uncertain or conflicted or whatever, I would've said no, let's wait. And then...maybe he'd even be alive today."
He gave a huge sigh. "But he's not. It happened. You want some ice cream? I hear the truck."
"That's all you've got?"
"You need more than ice cream?" He stood up in one quick, athletic move. "Come on." He offered his hand, and I took it.
He didn't let go, either. For maybe twelve or thirteen paces, he kept holding my hand, and it was only when a soccer ball rolled our way did he let go, run up to the ball and kick it back to a kid.
I ordered a Good Humor vanilla nut cone and let him pay.
"Did you ask Paige to teach at the Re-Enter Center?" I asked as I wolfed the thing down (my lunch having gone on Madeleine's head).
"No," he said, licking the side of his hand where ice cream was melting. "Somebody did, though. Why?"
"I was just surprised to see her there. I asked her to teach a dozen times back in the day."
"Well, she's there now. Being quite a pain in the ass, from what I hear, trying to run the place. You should come back. Everyone misses you." He nudged my shoulder with his. "Especially me."
"Aw, thanks, you big lug."
He smiled around his cone. He was just pointlessly beautiful, Daniel was.
On Second Thought Page 29
