Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel

by Clarke Scott, M A

  “You must be very close,” Kate said. “I mean, don’t the courts usually… ” she stopped, and looked askance, embarrassed. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. It’s okay.” Simon raised his brows, his eyes guarded. “It is much less common, definitely. Though it’s not unheard of. I basically raised her. And Rachel would offer no opposition to Maddie living full time with me… at least so she says, most days. When she’s feeling cooperative.” His laugh was taught and brittle, and he pressed his lips into a thin resolute line. “That’s why we’re still married. I see a lot of kids go home with their mothers, even when they shouldn’t. I’m not ready to test the courts archaic views. I don’t want Maddie to lose her mother, but I’m determined that she not lose her father.”

  What a heart-wrenching dilemma. What kind of mother wouldn’t want custody of her little girl? Kate wondered if that was the main reason he wasn’t divorced, or whether he still harbored hopes of reconciliation with Rachel. She was curious about Simon’s wife, and the impact this must have had on his career, but couldn’t pry any further. “So. Now that you’re a divorce lawyer, are you enjoying it? Have you worked with a mediator before?”

  Simon tensed, his eyes unfocussed. Several moments passed.

  “Simon?”

  “What? I’m sorry, you asked about… divorce law?”

  She smiled and nodded, studying him through narrowed eyes, hiding her mouth behind a delicate dabbing of her napkin.

  “Um. Do I like it? Well. Yes and no. I’m very good at it, perhaps because I’m in the middle of it myself. I seem to have a talent for moving the really volatile cases forward. I think it’s because I avoid being inflammatory, unlike many attorneys.” He paused. “I encourage my clients to separate the emotional battles from the legal ones.”

  Just then, the waiter brought their pasta, and it was a few minutes before they could resume. Kate tucked into her lunch and let him continue.

  “You eat like you really mean it,” he laughed.

  She looked up, surprised. “It’s pasta,” she said in her defense.

  He lifted his wine and took a sip. “I guess I can’t bear to see people ripping each other apart. People aren’t all that happy to destroy each other once the court case begins. Everyone suffers, especially the kids. They all walk away damaged.”

  “I would have a hard time with that too,” she sympathized, her eyes cast down as she rearranged her napkin. She felt a strong affinity with his views, and liked that he was comfortable talking about the things that mattered to her.

  “I guess I’m old-fashioned, or sentimental, or … ”

  “Idealistic?” she suggested, meeting his eyes.

  He grunted. Understanding sparked between them. “Mmm. Perhaps that’s it. I like to see families whole.”

  Kate nodded again. “And mediation? Have you had any experience with it?”

  His face crumpled, his cheeks flushing, and she wondered if he would finally confess that he thought it was a bunch of baloney, like Sharon did. “Clients of mine have gone to mediation, mostly over child custody issues, but I haven’t been involved.” He hesitated. “The only time I’ve experienced mediation, I was the… client.” He dipped his chin and grimaced.

  “O-oh?”

  He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. “We… Rachel and I tried… about a year… it wasn’t very…He let out an exasperated sigh, grimacing, and still she just looked at him. “Um. I… uh… I walked out. The… it seemed to me the mediator was quite… not objective. I found the process very frustrating.” He stabbed his fork into his linguini, avoiding her gaze.

  “Oh. I see.” She’d had clients abandon sessions before. But she would have pegged him as calmer, more rational than that.

  He looked up. “You doubt me?”

  She was perplexed. She knew it wasn’t impossible that some mediators took sides, despite their training. It was a shame, and gave them all a bad name. “I’m sorry.” She placed a forkful of pesto into her mouth and chewed. “It shouldn’t be that way.”

  After another moment he said, “Have you been very successful helping clients reconcile?”

  “Pretty successful. You can’t help everyone.” She hesitated. “Are you… still hoping to reconcile with Rachel?”

  “No.” Simon’s eyes flashed. “I’m not sure I was then, either. I just felt I had to give it a try. Rachel never wanted to stay with us. But I guess I had a hard time letting go of Maddie’s mother.”

  “Some people really shouldn’t be together.” Kate concentrated on her food. “But though I work on other kinds of cases… no even when I do, I always try to bring families together again. Even if couples end up going through with divorce, they tend to do it more amicably. But my philosophy is therapeutic, and I’ve built my reputation on my success in reconciliation.” Kate pondered the case study she planned to present at the awards ceremony in January. It was going well, so far, and she no longer worried about Simon making her work more difficult. In fact, it felt like he was on her side.

  “That’s right. There are other… philosophies then?”

  “Oh, yes. But of course there are mediators working in a wide array of settings — corporate, union, government… ” she trailed off. “They have different objectives. The relationship is usually an important factor, though, if not paramount.”

  “Do you do only divorce mediation?”

  “No. Family mediation, and some community work. You’d be surprised at the things people fight about. Child custody, of course. Family businesses. Abuse. Property. Wills and estates. That’s a popular one.” She laughed.

  “That would interest me,” Simon leaned forward, earnest. “It’s an extension of what I’m doing now, with a different aim - more positive.”

  “Perhaps you should think of shifting into mediation. Many mediators are lawyers, you know.

  Simon made a wry face. “That would be ironic.”

  They talked about the business of mediation for a while longer.

  “You mentioned you got into mediation through crisis counseling. How did that happen, if I’m not prying?” Simon ate his lunch, waiting for her answer.

  Her chest tightened, and she dipped her chin, swallowing. “Well. You are. But… it’s okay.” Kate hesitated. She could share without making the connection with him, with them. “I discovered crisis counseling the hard way. It really made a big difference in my life when I was at a low point. Afterwards, I volunteered. After a few months, I realized that, not only did it make me feel wonderful to help others that way, but, I had a real talent for it.”

  Simon frowned but said nothing.

  “I took a few courses, here and there, and then I discovered the program at the Justice Institute. My background’s not in Psychology, per se, or law, but I supplemented. All in all, I studied for a few years before qualifying. It was quick. To be a Clinical Psychologist, I would have had to go back to school for another six or seven years, get a doctorate… I really didn’t have the patience for that. This way, I was able to get working right away.” Kate held one hand open, palm up. “Not that I’m a counselor, of course,” she added.

  “So it’s more a kind of specialty on top of other training. That’s why lawyers do it, I suppose, and shrinks.”

  She nodded.

  “And it’s more goal oriented, I imagine, than family or marriage counseling, which can just go on and on and then peter out.”

  “Exactly. I think you’d make a great mediator. You have empathy,” she her eyes to his, felt her face heat, and a small smile pulling at her lips. “You keep your cool around difficult people. That’s challenging for some.” She raised her index finger, her enthusiasm brimming over, “And, you’re a keen student of human behavior. I’ve seen the way you observe. Study. Analyze. Those are just the qualities you need.” In that moment, Kate felt as though they were alone, and that his attention was as focussed on her as hers was on him.

  He tilted his head to study her face. “You’ve almost g
ot me convinced. You obviously love what you do.”

  “I do. It’s a great feeling to find what you’re meant to do in life. It’s very empowering and energizing. I love going to work every day.” It was true. She loved her work.

  “I’m not sure I’ve got your… I don’t know. Commitment, I guess.” He sipped his wine. “So how about you. I gather you’re not married?”

  “No. Never been. I’ve been seeing someone for a couple of years.”

  “Serious?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “My life is mostly about my work.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

  Their conversation swung to lighter topics, food, books and travel. Kate listened with curiosity to Simon tell of his travels in Japan, Hong Kong and Thailand, and his discovery of various new culinary and cultural experiences along the way. Suddenly, despite her apprehensions of being with him, she couldn’t get enough. She leaned in on her elbows.

  “Each new trip I plan, I try to visit a country or region I haven’t seen before. At the moment I’m thinking I might be ready for some trekking in the Himalayas. I’m not sure. It’s hard not to go back to the places I’ve really enjoyed. It’s tempting just to lie in a hammock in Phuket. These days it’s a toss-up between the food and culture and experiencing the spiritual meccas.”

  “Does Madison stay with your wife when you go?” Kate asked, wondering what exactly he did at a spiritual mecca.

  A sharp bark of laughter escaped his lips. “Oh. No. Not for the two or three weeks I need. I’m very fortunate in that; my parents and my brother help out a lot.”

  “So, you’re interested in Eastern philosophies as well?” Her head was spinning with his myriad interests and activities. It was difficult for her to reconcile this sensitive complex spiritual man with the brilliant, career driven party guy she once knew. She was intrigued.

  “Yes, more and more so as I get older. When I’m not traveling, I read a great deal. The classics, poetry and philosophy. I know it sounds, well, eccentric. Maybe a bit flaky. But… ”

  She shook her head, about to protest, but he continued.

  “You’re very polite.” He laughed softly, with the self-deprecating, bashful grin and shy, dropped eyelids that she had always found so endearing. “Usually when I warm to my subject, people squirm. I’m afraid my interests have become a bit esoteric over the years.”

  “Well, I remember you being quite the aficionado of rock music, professional sports and, um, beer,” she laughed, and he joined her with a rollicking guffaw, tossing his head back. She was touched by his easy grace, the unselfconscious way he held his body. It was very appealing.

  “Everyone changes, not that I’ve given up those pursuits entirely,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his forehead into his interlocked hands. “I guess I’ve never stopped looking for answers. I certainly didn’t find them in the lyrics of rock songs, though they might have seemed relevant when I was nineteen. If anything, they only raised more questions.” He looked up at her, humor sparkling in the cerulean depths of his eyes. “What about you? Have you traveled much?”

  Kate bobbed her head ambiguously. “Not quite as much as you, but I’ve been to Europe a couple of times. And Alex and I have been to the Yucatan. I seem to be more drawn to European history, and art, when I travel. I never get enough of the Great Masters.”

  “Alex… is he–?” His brows drew together in a question.

  She hesitated. “Alexa Jenner? You might remember her.” Kate shrugged, feeling momentarily awkward at the prod to their memories. Perhaps he wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure how much he paid attention to back then. He sure didn’t seem to miss much now, though.

  “Yes. I do remember. Short little brunette? She was in your dorm,” he nodded, his eyes faltered and slid sideways. “I went to Greece and Italy once, years ago. But I’d end up sitting on a rock contemplating ruined civilizations, thinking about life, rather than touring museums and stuff.”

  He paused.

  “What are your thoughts on Eli’s work?” he enquired, his expression giving nothing away of his own opinions.

  She remembered his comments in the boardroom. “You seemed to think it had merit, as I recall. Were you being polite?”

  “Aah. But I asked you first.” His mouth lifted to one side, teasing, with a sexy flash of white teeth.

  She smiled back. “You missed my comments that day. I had just finished telling Eli that I liked his work very much. And I was not just being polite. I think he’s amazing. Really talented and very, very smart.”

  “Mmhmm. Me too, though I meant to have another look.” He grinned. “If you ever get the chance to travel in Asia, you might be surprised by the art and architecture there. When I was in Japan—” he was interrupted by the trilling of his cell phone, and stopped to dig it out of his pocket. “Excuse me. Sorry. Hello?”

  Kate sat quietly sipping her wine, watching Simon. He was so well-rounded and thoughtful, and all of this on top of being a full time single father to his daughter. How did he manage it?

  The waiter took the opportunity to whisk away their empty plates, smiling warmly at her. “Cappuccino, Signorina? Espresso?” he asked quietly, and she held up a hand to indicate they needed a minute. He nodded and drifted away again. Simon’s countenance changed quickly from curious to concerned as he listened on the phone.

  “She was fine this morning. When did this start?” He listened. “Did she eat anything?” Another pause. “Okay. Yes. I’ll be there right away. Give me twenty minutes or so. Right. Thanks.” He clicked off, and rose from his chair.

  “Trouble?” asked Kate, sensing, her bright mood dampened, that their lunch was over.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so. That was Maddie’s day care. She seems to have come down with something after lunch. She’s barfing and running a fever. I’ve got to go get her. I’m sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning, though he had shut down, mentally having left already. He pulled his mouth into a tight attempt to smile, and bent to pick up his briefcase.

  She felt the light, fizzy sense of happiness they’d shared over lunch drain away, and her heart seemed to sink into the pit of her stomach. She felt the powerful pull of her attraction, and something more. A desire to comfort him. She sensed that, despite help from his family, he was very much alone. “It’s okay. She needs you. And we’re done here anyway. It’s been a great lunch. Thank you so much for… everything. It was fun.”

  “I’m glad you found me.” Simon said, taking the time to meet her eyes, and she believed him, though it was obvious he was distracted and worried. His face flickered with alarm, and he sucked in a breath. “The bill!” He rummaged for his wallet.

  “I’ve got it. Don’t even think about it.” She placed a hand lightly on his arm to stop him. “Really. I hope Madison’s alright. I’m sure she is… Just go.”

  He shook his head, reaching to curl a hand over her shoulder, his thumb squeezing gently, gliding over the edge of her collarbone. That small gesture felt like a momentous embrace, stopping her breath. “Thank you. Thanks a lot. I’ll see you next week.”

  And he was gone, leaving Kate to sit and ponder the astonishing amount of information he had shared about himself, feeling as if her shoulder was on fire, throbbing with his heat, and the memory of his touch. She couldn’t recall meeting anyone like him, perhaps ever. Not even himself at nineteen. There always was that dreamy side to him, even then, she thought. Strangest of all was trying to fathom how he’d traveled along that road, how he’d gotten from there to here, with everything else going on in his life. The waiter returned, his jaw hanging, apparently confused to find the charming tête-à-tête ended so abruptly. Kate ordered a cup of green tea, determined to sit awhile longer and contemplate the astonishing reappearance of Simon Sharpe in her life.

  ~*~

  Kate was glad to have a night out, and an excuse to wear the new violet chiffon gown she’d bought recently. The Children's Hospital Fundraiser ball was the perfect
venue, and she looked forward to catching up with the old work colleagues who had invited her to join them.

  She pressed through the dense crowd, eager to get her first glass of wine. Too many bodies, most of them taller than her, pressed close, a pungent mix of colognes, alcoholic breath and, even at this early hour, perspiration assaulting her senses. On the other hand, it was nice to see people dressed up, especially the men in their tuxedos. A tall, broad-shouldered specimen up ahead caught her eye. The warm light of the crystal chandeliers overhead sparkled in his golden waves. She felt suddenly breathless, the skin on the back of her neck tingling. He looked almost like—he turned his head— hey, it actually was Simon.

  Her pulse fluttering wildly, she lifted her voice to hail him. “Hey neighbor. I would have expected you to be home with a book on Confucius or the I Ching tonight, not rubbing elbows with the glitterati in your tux.”

  Simon whirled around at the familiar voice, his eyes searching the dense crowd.

  “Here,” she said, with a little wave. “Excuse me,” she elbowed her way between two men and approached him. He stared at her, his jaw slack, but still hadn’t spoken. “You look rather Bond this evening. Or you might if you didn’t have such a vacuous expression on your face,” she teased.

  Then he spoke, his voice throaty and deep. “Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly/Their beauty shakes me who was once serene/Straight through my heart… the wound is quick and keen.”

  “Hmm?” Her grin vanished, and she stared, uncomprehending. What did he say?

  “Chaucer,” he murmured. He swallowed. “Sorry. I’m not hitting on you. I just mean to say, you look… amazing.”

  Her pulse kicked into higher gear. “Oh.” She looked at his tie, feeling her face heat. “Thank you.”

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “I was on my way,” she said, gripping her beaded evening bag. “I was thinking about a glass of white wine.”