Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel

by Clarke Scott, M A

  The whirlwind of attention had yanked her out of her funk over Ben, perhaps more quickly than it ought. She really liked Simon, and soon looked forward to his visits. It was perhaps the fourth or fifth visit, she recalled, that he wasn’t quite so drunk, and that their long, philosophical, intimate discussion led to other things, more intimate. They were both surprised by the intensity.

  Afterwards, it was different. They never dated, per se. They didn’t need to, both captives of the university life. They sought each other out on campus, at the pub, at dances. They spent a lot of time together over the following three months, making love again and again, unable to quench their mutual desire. By the time the term ended in May, she thought she was in love again, though no words to that effect were ever spoken. It was implied through looks, gestures, poetry and passion.

  Kate hadn’t thought about these things in so long. The details that came back to her were incredible. She emerged from the stall, still feeling disoriented in time and space. She patted a damp paper towel against her face and neck, trying to regain some composure. Her eyes were drawn to the silver knot pendant she always wore, and she swallowed, drawing strength from its message. How would she continue to face Simon when such memories were flooding back? Instead of keeping a cool distance between them, she felt herself drawn toward him as though her helpless years of obsession had never ended. She wanted to wrap herself around him and love him all over again. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Exiting the ladies room, she let out a pitiful high-pitched shriek as Simon materialized, as though from the fog of her memory, springing away from the wall by the elevator like a big cat. He was obviously waiting for her.

  “Come for a cup of tea?” He grinned, and placed his fingertips lightly on her elbow. She felt her resolve melt.

  He led the way to a small, folksy café down the block.

  Quelling the warning voice in her head, she pulled out her sunglasses and donned them, tossing her head back and smiling benignly at the sun. Warmth uncurled inside her.

  Simon squinted at the glare reflecting from the glass and chrome trim of the parked cars they passed. She was elated to discover the café had small tables outside under the street trees where they could sit, and Simon offered to bring her tea.

  “Earl Grey this morning?” he asked.

  “Mmm. No. Ceylon today, please,” she replied.

  “Certainly. Anything to eat?”

  “I am a bit peckish. How about a scone?” He bowed slightly and turned in to the café. He returned shortly with just what she’d ordered and even brought her homemade strawberry jam.

  “Delightful!” she exclaimed. “If I’d known there was such a nice café here, I wouldn’t have made plans to move the sessions to a new location next week.”

  “A new location? Why?”

  She sobered. “It’s important that the space is conducive to the relationships, and the positive outcomes we want.” He nodded, listening, his eyes intent on her face. “I really dislike Sharon’s board room. They’ll make better progress in a more informal and intimate setting. It’s one of the things I do a little differently.”

  Simon looked intrigued. “There’s more to it than I imagined.” He took a sip of tea. “I’ve been really impressed with your techniques. Today, for example. It seemed gimmicky, but then you really moved them along. I could see what you were doing.” He paused. “I’m still impressed.”

  She smiled, chewed a bit of her scone, swallowed and said, “It’s all about timing. I manage the exchange very carefully, and build on each step when they are receptive.”

  “Are you sure they’re ready to reconcile? Surely it’s not that simple.”

  Kate nodded. “There are still issues to be resolved. But desire and intent are there, so my gut tells me we can do it.”

  He squinted up at the canopy of umber, bronze, russet and green overhead, outlined against the intense blue of the sky. “You’re not the way I thought.”

  Her brows knit as she puzzled over that. “What?”

  “I mean, when I first saw you, you seemed stiff and distant. I thought perhaps arrogant. I assumed you were like… this other mediator I knew, kind of hard and cold.”

  “Whoa. So you wrote off my entire profession on a case study of one?”

  He scrambled to explain, lifting his palms to face her. “Don’t take me wrong. I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers. And I’m not trashing all mediators. It’s just a certain type I have unfortunate experience with. I’m wary, that’s all.”

  She continued to look at him through narrowed eyes. His reticence seemed to be of a different kind than Sharon’s skepticism. A few awkward moments of silence passed. She gave him a tentative smile. “I had good reason to be cool. I was taken completely off guard when you came in. I didn’t have time to think.”

  Simon hesitated. “I was surprised, too. I’d had no idea you’d be there.” He laughed softly.

  She was astonished. They’d silently, politely transitioned into acknowledging their past.

  “Strange coincidence, wasn’t it?” She paused, her eyes darting to meet his before glancing away. “I’m still worried about whether we should have disclosed more. I didn’t think it would be a problem or I would.” She flushed, and stared at her plate, her hand fluttering.

  “It was so long ago.” He waved it away with an air of indifference, and she was grateful. She was making too big a deal out of it.

  “How is it that I’ve never seen you before, if you work in the city?”

  He nodded. “That’s relatively recent. I both lived and worked in Richmond until last year, and had little opportunity to come downtown. Then, when I changed firms, I couldn’t make the commute across the bridge work anymore, with daycare and all that.”

  Daycare equaled kids. Separated with kids. She nodded while the questions swirled in her brain. She would not ask.

  He continued. “I was still living in the condo we’d bought years ago, but we were outgrowing it anyway. So I found a comfy old bungalow in Kits. It’s nice to be back in the city.”

  “I see. And I’ve always lived here, in the centre.” She shrugged.

  “So tell me,” he continued, “I’m curious. Whatever happened to Urban Planning?”

  He remembered her major? “A lot. I got involved in crisis counseling, and had a talent for it, as it turned out. It was gratifying. I wanted to help people. One thing led to another. I changed.” She shrugged, and he seemed to accept her explanation at face value. At least they’d established some ground rules for their conversations: easy, inconsequential, nonchalante.

  He assessed her quietly, sipping his tea. “I believe you have.” He grinned and wolfed down the rest of his sticky Danish, licking his fingers.

  “I see you still have a sweet tooth,” she observed. Simon froze, finger between his lips, and his ears grew red.

  “Mmhmm.” He chewed slowly.

  She studied him for a moment, smiling shyly. “Are you frustrated with being sidelined?” She closed her eyes and smoothed her eyebrow with the fingers of one hand, shaking her head slowly. “In the mediation process, I mean?” She watched his mouth as he licked his lips, and he lifted a napkin to wipe them, hiding a smile, though it showed in his crinkled blue eyes.

  He pulled his face into repose. “Not at all. I’m interested in your methods. And I’m also curious to see the outcome. Eli and I have talked. I know he wants to reconcile. He knows he needs to compromise to make this work, but it’s hard for him.”

  “It’s not all his fault, of course. It’s complex,” countered Kate. “D'arcy has some issues she needs to face. Today’s reminiscence brought them forward.”

  “She has issues, alright. Control issues. And trust issues. But something else bothers me about her. I think there’s more. I mean I hardly know her, but her behavior is … well, just weird. Edgy.”

  “You know, with instincts like that, you might make a decent mediator yourself,” Kate said, slipping her sunglasses on. “W
e’d better get back.” It was going to be increasingly difficult to keep her cool and continue to pretend that the past they shared was inconsequential.

  ~*~

  As Kate and Simon approached Sharon’s office building, a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped her, despite her nerves around Simon. She was enjoying being around him so much, she felt a fizz of energy tingling all through her. Her step felt as light as air, even while she cautioned herself to be sensible. She was jolted back to earth to see D'arcy marching indignantly toward the door, trailing hair, coat, purse, and Eli three yards behind her. He was calling out to her, waving his arms wildly, apparently angry, but she wasn’t waiting to hear him out, striding onward with her chin jutting. He ran to catch her, grabbing her arm to spin her around, and Kate could see the fury on their faces.

  “Uh, oh,” said Simon.

  “What’s happened?” Kate cried in despair, hurrying to catch up with them at the elevator. They were hissing and spitting at each other like alley cats. She stepped between them, wrapping an arm around each. “Take a deep breath, you two. Let’s take it upstairs.” Their silent ascent was somber, Eli and D'arcy silently fuming, Kate catching Simon’s perplexed and sympathetic look, until they reached the relative privacy of the boardroom.

  “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this charade,” D'arcy said, sweeping inside and flinging her tight fists down to her sides just inside the door.

  Sharon, awaiting their return, shot up with an expression of shock and concern. “What happened? What’s he done now?” she asked D'arcy.

  “I’m getting out of here,” D'arcy said, twisting around like a caged animal, tears welling in her eyes. “This is such a waste of time.” She turned on Eli, “How could you be so hypocritical? How can you be so—”

  “You’re hysterical!” Eli fought back. “You’re so—”

  “—dishonest?” she spat. “You think you can fool me with your romantic—”

  “I told you, you can’t trust him,” Sharon said stiffly. Kate gave her a sharp look and turned back to Eli and D'arcy. Simon quietly closed the boardroom door and leaned against it. They stood in a huddle.

  Eli ignored Sharon, jabbing his pointed finger in D’arcy’s face. “—determined to find evidence to support your suspicions, you can’t even see what’s —” Kate watched, tense, trying to decipher their overlapping words. She caught Simon’s eye again, watching him listen, observe and absorb all that was going on around them, glad to have at least one sane person in the room.

  “—stories. I’ll never trust you again!” D'arcy cried, tears glistening.

  “That’s it, isn’t it? You never did trust me. What have I ever done to make you feel—?” Eli pleaded.

  “What can you expect from such an irresponsible philanderer—?” Sharon said.

  “Shut up, will you?” Eli screamed in Sharon’s face, spittle flying.

  Kate had had enough. “Stop right there! All of you.” She turned away. “Sit down, please. Everyone.” She moved to her seat and stood, tapping the table with her fingertips, waiting for everyone to take their places, and sank into her chair with her spine straight as a pike. She let them wait while she turned her cool gaze at each of them, and sent a particularly reproachful glare at Sharon. When her eyes met Simon’s she was aware of a bright intensity there—was it approval? admiration? His lips tightened ever so slightly in a small smile meant only for her that made her feel an inch taller and sent a tingling warmth through her middle. She couldn’t explain why, but it was suddenly important to her that he respect and admire her for her work.

  When it was quiet, she made notes, gathering her thoughts. She was loath to ask them what had incited the dispute, but… it had to be done. “Okay. Everyone take another deep breath. We’re going to discuss this like adults, calm and rational.”

  Sharon sniffed and raised her chin. “You needn’t address us like school children, Kate. Clearly something’s happened to upset D'arcy, and if she feels justified in … ”

  “Excuse me, Sharon.” Kate cut in, her voice a whisper of steel. “You’re behaving like school children. If you don’t mind: Were you there? Did you see or hear what happened?”

  “Well, no, but … ”

  “Well then. I would also like to remind you of your commitment to support the mediation process. Please refrain from accusations and name-calling in future. It’s unprofessional. And unhelpful.” Kate’s voice was as hard and sharp as a nail, though she felt enormous frustration.

  Sharon’s mouth hung open. Kate closed her eyes for a brief moment, gritting her teeth, and drew a deep breath. When she opened them, she could see Sharon’s face pinched in fury, her shoulders drawn up. Later, shrew.

  “Now. D'arcy. In as few words as possible, describe what could have possibly happened during a half hour coffee break to cause such an outburst.”

  D'arcy sniffled, indignant and distraught. “We went for a coffee down the street. We sat down at a table and were talking. Everything was fine.” Her voice rose in pitch and cracked. “Then this bimbo with her navel-ring hanging out of jeans down to here,” she sliced herself across the midriff, “ —bounced into the shop and squealed— ‘Eli, oh, Eli baby, what a surprise,’ —and threw herself at him. He jumped out of his chair and grabbed her in a huge hug, and then he kissed her and pawed her, right in front of me! I was stunned. I couldn’t imagine who this little tart was, but he didn’t even introduce me. I was like, like—” she stuttered, searching for the word, “—like wallpaper or something. He completely ignored me while he made a date with her, for Chrissake!”

  Kate made notes, glancing at her watch. “Okay, thank you D'arcy. Stop there. Eli? Your version please.” With deliberate calm, Kate refused to judge the truth based only on D’arcy’s interpretation of it.

  Eli didn’t hesitate to launch to his own defense, bursting with righteous indignation. “This is just what happened last time.” He looked pointedly at Kate. “She sees what she expects to see and jumps to conclusions.”

  “Just describe and explain events, Eli, please,” said Kate in a soft monotone. She noted Simon squinting at Eli, as curious to hear his explanation as she was.

  “The ‘bimbo’ in question is Cara, my agent Jeffrey’s seventeen-year-old daughter!” He sat grim-faced, his dark brows joined in an angry line across his eyes, which glinted as black and unfathomable as coal. “We’re friends. She’s been out of town and was happy to see me. I did not kiss her. She kissed me. I did hug her. Why wouldn’t I? I was happy to see her, too. She’s been in Italy since May.” His lip curled in disgust. “And the ‘date’ D'arcy refers to is a reception at Jeffrey’s gallery on Thursday evening that she ought to know about. We’re celebrating the sale of two large canvases to a collector in London. All my friends will be there.”

  “Okay, stop there.” Kate paused again, letting the facts sink slowly into everyone’s brain. After a few moments, she spoke. “D'arcy, how did this make you feel?”

  “I felt … ” her expression was graphic: her mouth warped into a frown, her brow creased, eyes pained, chin quivering. “I felt humiliated. I felt rejected… and betrayed. He didn’t tell me who she was, or even acknowledge me to her. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

  Kate nodded and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “And you? What emotions are you feeling, Eli?”

  “That’s easy. Anger. And resentment.” Eli was still fuming, nostrils flared, his body tense as a sprung bow.

  Kate talked them both through the event, showing them how it looked from the other’s point of view, and trying to frame their respective behavior in terms of their good qualities, instead of allowing their fears and biases to color the experience.

  “Eli, this sounds like consideration and good manners. Do you typically introduce D'arcy when you meet friends that she doesn’t know?”

  “I’m not a complete idiot, you know! I didn’t get a chance.” He was getting worked up, his voice escalating as he rose from his chair in agitation. “You people
talk to me like you think I’m an idiot.” He wiped saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, and Kate met his eye and silently sent him soothing energy.

  Sharon perked up, leaning back in her chair and glaring at Eli. “If he’s going to get violent, I’m afraid we can’t continue until he learns to behave.”

  Kate shot Sharon a staying glance. “Hold on, Eli. Stay with me.” She reached out an open hand. “I’m trying to explore past patterns of behavior, to see how this fits in. D'arcy, has Eli always been openly affectionate with friends, with you? Is he demonstrative, I mean?”

  “What are you getting at?” Eli interrupted.

  D’arcy’s face relaxed, her eyes sliding sideways, “I suppose, yes. His Mom is like that too, all hugs and kisses.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eli demanded.

  Simon’s eyes widened with alarm, and he lay a calming hand on Eli’s arm. “Take it easy buddy.” Kate released a breath, feeling grateful for his presence.

  Eli was undeterred, his voice jeering, pugnacious and petulant. “This makes perfect sense. It’s been there all along.” Eli turned on D'arcy, belligerent now, leaning over her, jabbing his finger. “You never respected me. You’re just as prejudiced as your precious Mother and Daddy. You don’t trust me to behave nicey-nicey because I’m such a cad; not raised properly and all that. Should have thought of that before you married me, eh?”

  Whoa, touched a nerve there. Why was he overreacting like this?

  “Don’t misunderstand me, Eli,” Kate cautioned. “I’m trying to–“

  He turned to Kate. “I can hear it in your voice, too. Judgment.” Foam gathered at the corners of his lips, which were working in a sneer. “You’ve all declared me guilty without a shred of evidence. You already think you know what I am. But you’re wrong.” He turned to D'arcy. “You know me, cher. You know what I’m like. I wouldn’t do that!”