Kate leaned in, concentrating hard on her clients’ words, willing her nerve endings to ignore the man beside her, whose intellect and warmth intimidated and intrigued her by turns.
Eli’s mouth twisted. “You could have said something. How do I know you’re getting so uptight about a few indulgences?”
“I did say something. You seem to think that was the problem.” D'arcy retorted.
“I meant talk, not nag until I can’t stand it anymore. And then call your mother and complain about me. I feel hen-pecked.”
“How can I talk to you, Eli, when you never listen, you never sit still? You’re never home.”
Eli’s hand flew up to the back of his neck, rubbing, then he patted his pockets, fingering the outline of his cigarette pack. “That’s a load of crap. The harping came first. You drove me out.”
“Okay, let’s–“ Kate tried, but they rode over her.
“You’re just a little boy, Eli. It’s not harping, it’s communicating. That’s what married people do.”
“I said I would change…
As the bickering continued, Kate felt Simon tense beside her.
“I tried to come home, D'arcy. But I just couldn’t… I couldn’t be there anymore.”
“Not with me, anyway,” D'arcy shot back, dripping sarcasm, her arched eyebrows elevated.
Eli shot to his feet, disgusted, turning away from the table. “Not fair. I told you what happened. Why don't you trust me?”
“What you think happened,” she spat.
“It’s the truth.” Eli’s face was flushed with colour, and his dark eyes glinted.
“Okay. That’s enough for now.” Kate cut in. “I think, D'arcy, we’ve gone off on a tangent here. But that’s okay. You’ve begun an exchange. That’s very good. You’re really talking, and that’s wonderful.” She stood up, so Eli didn’t seem so conspicuous in the midst of his outburst. “We’ve been at this quite a while. Let’s take a breather. I took the liberty of ordering beverages and snacks this morning, so we can resume our work sooner.”
Kate had listened to the spontaneous exchange without interrupting, though she knew D'arcy had more to say. They were listening to each other, though not carefully enough. She believed they were beginning to hear some of what the other had to say through a mountain of mistrust and resentment. It was a start.
But, they were both heating up; the exchange was taking on the character of a domestic quarrel. They needed some guidance, and she needed a more active role to keep her thoughts from dwelling on Simon’s distracting presence.
Kate tried to ignore Simon’s eyes on her as she left the room, returning a moment later with Siobhan on her heels, pushing the tea trolley. Siobhan parked it by the window, smiling shyly at Simon and colouring prettily. Kate thanked her and she quietly left. Even though he was nearly twice her age, Siobhan obviously found him attractive—Kate stole a surreptitious peek—he really did look handsome today. He’d been a lovely, lanky teenager, but now he was a large, graceful and powerful man, like a tawny mountain lion. She sighed. Kate remembered feeling weak-kneed over him, and congratulated herself that she had made it halfway through the session this morning without letting his presence rattle her concentration—much. She really was in control of herself, after all. It was deeply gratifying, and she intended to keep it that way. She stood taller and pushed her shoulders back, filling her lungs with a deep Pranayama breath, only to shrink back when her movement drew Simon’s gaze, scanning up and down her torso, bringing a self-conscious hand up to tuck back her hair. Blast!
Everyone seemed more than a little relieved to have an excuse to break, and stood up and stretched, no one making eye contact.
“I’ve ordered good strong coffee, and also a selection of teas. I hope you find what you like,” she said to no one in particular. She hung back as Eli and Sharon dived at the coffee pot first, pouring themselves cupfuls with obvious relish. Eli helped himself to the muffins, Danishes and scones. D'arcy waited until they were seated, then moved in nonchalantly and flipped through the tea bags, finally selecting, Kate was interested to note, a fruity herbal one. No tobacco, no caffeine. It seemed to go against character. Finally Simon looked at her, inclined his head and gestured for her to help herself.
“Go ahead,” she said stiffly, taking a jerky step closer. What was wrong with her? Every cell in her body was drawn to him, like some weird petrie dish experiment, scattered and agitated.
He, too, looked through the tea bags, and selected a green tea. “I hope it’s up to your standards,” she said, feeling strangely shy and awkward, tracing the impossible pattern on his tie with her eyes. Her voice sounded tight and shrill to her ears.
A smile tugged at the corners of Simon’s lips. “I’m actually quite easy to please. And I don’t always drink green tea. It’s a habit that comes from eating Asian food so often,” he replied, his voice hushed.
She chose Earl Grey and stood there, steeping the bag, absorbing the heady aroma of bergamot. Her feet felt cemented to the carpet. She glanced over her shoulder. Eli was staring out the window, drinking in solitude, already tapping an unlit cigarette in anticipation of stepping outdoors. Sharon sat with D'arcy, their heads close together, speaking softly. D'arcy wolfed her muffin like she hadn’t eaten in a week.
“Really? What’s your favorite?” she asked, meeting his eye briefly, though why she was engaging in small talk with Simon Sharpe she couldn’t fathom. About food, no less.
“Hmm. That’s a tough question. I like so many,” replied Simon after a few moments consideration. “I’d have to say Japanese. And Thai, definitely Thai. But I like them all. Malaysian, Indonesian, Korean, Schezuan… ” He tapered off.
“Do you count Indian food as Asian?” she asked, pondering this passion of his.
“Oh, sort of. Though it’s a category unto itself,” he said.
She laughed softly, agreeing. “It’s one of my favourites. I like to cook with all those aromatic spices.”
“I’m surprised you find the time,” he deadpanned, eyebrows raised. Kate recoiled under his implied criticism. What did she do to deserve that? Her mind shied from the obvious answer. “I prefer to cook Thai. But then, there are so many good restaurants in Vancouver, why kill yourself trying to learn how to make them all?”
He cooked? He cooked Thai food? He smiled, and she felt her face flush warmly, and darted a glance around the room, looking for an escape, or at least a witty comeback. Eli had left the room, and D'arcy moved in their direction.
“I just have to have another muffin,” she said. She blushed suddenly bright pink and turned to the trolley. Kate moved aside for her.
“How can you resist when Kate’s tempted us with so many delights,” Simon turned his relaxed charm on D'arcy at the trolley, perusing the platter of baking, selecting a Danish glistening with sugar glaze, and sharing a conspiratorial wink with D'arcy as he took a gigantic bite, glazing his lips with sugar.
Simon caught Kate’s eye, his eyes twinkling with humor as he licked his lips and chewed. She smiled and shrugged at his easy manners, though she felt a ripple of self-conscious anxiety flutter through her intestines. How odd — that they’d come to this already, she thought — this familiar non-verbal communication, as though they’d known each other for years. Oh! Except they had! She felt a tight clenching in her gut. Her hands jerked suddenly, slopping scalding tea over her wrist. “Oh, darn.” She dropped her eyes to his tie, then tore them away, reaching for the serviette he held out, and mopping the spill from her stinging skin. The warmth she felt in her face crept through her body like a fever. She couldn’t talk to him; and pretending she was cool stirred up too many emotions.
She was grateful for the diversion. “I… uh… excuse me.” Kate tried to smile and slunk away. What a buffoon I am! I’ve regressed to an awkward teenager. How humiliating. She exchanged a few words with Sharon, then sat down and made notes until Eli returned in a cloud of cigarette fumes carried on cool air. When they'd all sat down, a
nd she felt calmer, she began again.
“I really want you two to carry on with your exchange. But before you do, I think it would be helpful for everyone if I summarized a few of my observations.” She shot a fleeting glance at Simon as her eyes scanned the room, an unfamiliar unease gnawing at her confidence. “Sound good?” Eli smiled halfheartedly. D'arcy polished off her second muffin and dabbed crumbs from her cupie-doll mouth.
Kate paused. The more concise she could be with her summary, the more effective it would be, but her thoughts were scattered and undisciplined. The discussion would congeal around whichever key points she decided to make. She could pave the way for accord. She chose her words carefully as she read from her notes.
Kate smiled. She really loved what she did. Communication was such a funny thing — like a large, unruly, potentially dangerous beast that had to be repeatedly stroked and soothed before it behaved the way you wanted it to. She was able to guide them where she wanted them to go because she was a skilled listener. They didn’t always comply, but it was gratifying when they saw things her way.
She continued. “Also, despite efforts to reconcile, the difficulty seems to be a mutual lack of trust.” Kate let that suggestion sink in for a moment before elaborating. “Eli, you feel that D'arcy finds fault rather than sharing her feelings with you. Is that so? “ Eli scowled thoughtfully, his pen moving again, pouring his emotional turmoil onto the page in jagged black lines. “D'arcy, you feel that Eli also has found other sources of emotional support. Correct?” D'arcy looked stricken.
“Very concise,” interjected Simon, his eyes flat. What was that supposed to mean? She didn’t like his tone, and glared at him, forcing herself to continue. What happened to the charmer at the tea trolley?
“Would you also agree that you’ve been unable to resolve your differences so far mainly because of difficulty communicating? And this lack of communication has become perceived as a lack of caring?” Kate paused, referring to her notes, dropping the volume of her voice to just above a whisper. “But that is not necessarily so, is it? I believe I can clearly hear you both saying that you feel hurt and abandoned. Is that right?” She looked at them both, and found that they were both embarrassed. Unable to look at each other, squirming, their eyes shifting. Eli’s focus on his sketching intensified. D’arcy’s restless hands reached for her handbag and settled on a piece of gum.
“It’s a very easy psychological trap to fall into—to assume that the other person isn’t listening, and therefore doesn’t care anymore, or values different things than we do. The more we’re hurting, the more assumptions we lock onto about the other person’s point of view. This is perfectly normal. It doesn’t make either of you the villain here.” Simon cleared his throat and Kate shot him another questioning glance, realizing she didn’t have a clue what was in his mind. What? Was he criticizing her? She shut her mind to thoughts of Simon and persevered.
Kate paused to smile reassuringly at D'arcy and Eli, willing them to look at her. “So would you agree that you haven’t really given yourselves a chance to resolve your differences yet? You don’t yet know for certain that they are irreconcilable.” This time, they looked up—thoughtful, questioning—and met each other’s eyes, wavering, uncertain. Kate smiled. Now we’re getting somewhere. I can see what they want.
Sharon, predictably, bristled at this suggestion. Her somber expression, together with the starkly black suit and white shirt that further bleached her pale complexion and severe hair, lent her the disposition of an anemic undertaker. Kate almost smiled at the image, until she caught her attempt to draw Simon in. Lord, how she wished she could be alone with her clients to work her mediation magic without distraction!
“And I have one more point. It’s this: that before you are able to work through your differences, all of your issues and all the necessary information must be on the table. No secrets. Does that make sense to you?” Eli’s pen suddenly flipped out of his hand onto the table with a rattle.
“Sorry,” he muttered, retrieving it.
“Indeed,” came Simon’s editorial. Was that supposed to be a comment about Eli, D'arcy, or was he referring to their own dirty secrets? Why couldn’t he just keep quiet? She clenched her teeth in frustration. Was it her own paranoia that made it seem like he was criticizing her every move? She felt raw and exposed.
Eli looked confused and a little suspicious, as though she were fishing for a confession, and he glanced nervously at Simon. The regular rhythm of D’arcy’s gum chewing slowed. Kate noticed Simon staring at D'arcy with a narrowed, pensive eyes.
“Now,” Kate said, “Let’s practice listening. And I’m looking for affirmations not accusations. D'arcy would you like to open the exchange?”
D'arcy hesitated for a long moment, her gum-chewing continuing in slow motion. “We-ell. My biggest concern has to be Eli’s lack of responsibility. I know he’s always been spontaneous and carefree, and I’ve always liked that about him, but there’s a point at which a person has to accept his share of responsibilities. Has to be an adult.” D'arcy paused, and looked at Kate, her eyebrows raised.
“That’s great, D'arcy. You can address Eli directly now. He’s listening.” She inclined her head at Eli.
“Eli’s… ” D'arcy turned to him awkwardly, her eyes faltering, her voice dropping in tenor, “ …you’ve… always let me take care of things, and I’ve done that, but I won’t always be able to,” she raised both hands in a silent plea, “to pay the bills, fix the cars, clean the house, cook meals. Look after you.” Why was D'arcy so afraid? Perhaps she’s ill?
Kate turned her eyes from the exchange between D'arcy and Eli to scan the room, and jolted to notice Simon’s gaze resting pensively on her! Again his attention pulled her mind from her clients to wonder about him, and who had been taking care of him these past fifteen years, and why he carried with him an aura of sadness. She tried to pull her focus back.
“I never asked you to look after me,” Eli’s voice held a note of defiance. “You’re not my mother.”
“Exactly. I’m not your mother,” she agreed, a little too earnestly. Their timbre of their discussion escalated, while D'arcy complained about doing all the work while Eli played. Tempers flared. They needed her.
Eli’s agitation was reflected in a rapid tapping of his pen.
D’arcy’s face crumpled. “I’m too busy taking care of you to do my own thing. What if I got sick? What if we run out of money? The way you’re spending money… it’s crazy.” D’arcee’s eyes searched Eli’s, desperate for acknowledgement.
A flicker of questioning concern in his eyes was replaced by indignation. “I’ve got my own money now. I don’t need yours and I don’t need permission to spend it. I’m not affecting you.” Kate bit down on her lips, silently urging him to lower his defenses. She willed him with her whole being to be courageous.
“It does affect me.” D'arcy cast her eyes around the room, unfocussed and glistening, while she expressed her concerns about their future security. “We’re married.”
“You’re always so uptight; it’s no big deal,” said Eli.
Oh Eli! You totally dropped the ball, baby. Kate pressed her lips together and gave him a disappointed shake of her head. He dropped his eyes and stared gloomily at his sketchpad, clearly aware he was being childish.
D'arcy seemed to know she’d scored a point. Her speech slowed, becoming more enunciated, tears shimmering in her round, hazel eyes. “When are you going to grow up?”
Simon cleared his throat, and glancing over, Kate saw him scowling, his jaw set. She flinched when he turned his hard gaze in her direction. He bugged his eyes at her, his hands twitching, as though he wanted to wring her neck, demanding something from her. Her heart thudded. What?
Breathless, Kate cut in, “Okay, D'arcy. I suspect Eli’s feeling a bit defensive at the moment.” Not the only one! She turned to face him. “Eli. Can you tell me, tell D'arcy, what you hear her saying. What is she worried about?” She felt Simon’s te
nsion slacken beside her, and the tight band around her own ribs eased with it, as though her nerve endings were tethered to his. What was this?
Eli sat, sulking, reluctant to play by Kate’s rules or be drawn out. She met his eye, stern but sympathetic and encouraging. His voice was just above a mumble. All he managed to express were irrational fears of oppression and loss of artistic freedom.
“Are you saying what you hear D'arcy saying, or what you’re afraid of?” Kate asked, looking steadily at him. From the corner of her eye, Kate noticed Simon lower his hands and lean forward.
Eli stared hard at her for a long moment. “Okay. Maybe I’m overreacting. I dunno. For years, she never asked me to be anything that wasn’t me.” Eli was subdued, speaking softly. “I was good enough for her before. Why the change now?”
Kate paraphrased Eli’s concerns. She could certainly relate to fears of lost identity and integrity.
“That’s ridiculous.” D'arcy replied, then hesitated and softened her voice. “All I’m saying is: chip in, that’s all. I’m looking for Eli to contribute, not just with the money he’s earned, but by caring, by showing an interest in the things we have invested in together, our future, our dreams,” D'arcy hesitated, “ … in me, you know?”
“Eli?” Kate prompted. “What do you hear now?”
“Yeah. I hear. I hear,” he said, looking down, his lip pressed into a thin line. His fountain pen rested on the page, ink bleeding slowly outward in a growing ragged blot.
“Do you want to think about that for a while?”
Eli nodded. He wasn’t making eye contact with anyone now. He wasn’t sketching either, but staring sightlessly at the Rorschach splotch on his notepad.
Kate stole a glance at her watch. She reckoned that both her clients had had about enough for one day. Furthermore, she had quite a lot of information to digest and record in her notes. Not just their words — though those were interesting enough — but all the non-verbal signals and signs that they were emanating. She’d wrap up the meeting, and then by next Tuesday, she’d have a fresh approach mapped out.
Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel Page 6
