Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel

by Clarke Scott, M A

  “I want to apologize for pressuring you. I’ve been thinking—”

  The door buzzer sounded loudly and she flinched, the hair on the back of her neck prickling. Oh God Oh God Oh God! This was not good. Kate stood indecisively in the doorway, her eyes flitting between Jay and the empty hall, wishing she could disappear.

  "You are expecting someone," Jay said, scowling. He set down the book.

  Moments later, Simon bounced to the top step, wearing his sheepskin coat, both hands behind his back, his face flushed. He strode to the open door and offered her one of his lopsided, bashful grins, and she thought, Calm down! of her rapidly beating heart. He definitely got very high marks for unassuming charm and just plain breath-stopping handsomeness. She couldn’t help but return his shy smile. She shot a nervous glance at Jay, standing now with his brows knit, realization dawning.

  “Hope I’m not too late… or early?” Simon said from the doorway, unaware of Jay’s presence.

  “Hi. No, well, maybe a little.” She backed away, her heart pounding.

  His eyes were cast down as he spoke. “I know this isn’t technically a… er… date, but I brought a bottle of wine for dinner, and— ” one arm swung around, presenting a brown paper bag choked by his leather gloved hand, “—and this doesn’t count as flowers, since it’s so close to Christmas,” his other arm presented a freckled pink potted poinsettia. He stole a cautious glance up into her eyes and she found a twinkle of mischief there. Oh God. What am I going to do now?

  Laughing nervously into his eyes, she said, “Riiiight. Thank you.” Her eyes flicked to Jay, who stood rigidly, his face darkening.

  Simon was looking down at the floor again, or rather, following his gaze, at her feet. They were bare, and she had thankfully had a pedicure. “Charming,” he said to her pale pink toenails, which wiggled self-consciously, and his smile returned. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “I… uh, sure. There’s just…” She looked at Jay desperately, drawing her lips between her teeth. The contrast between the heavy sense of dread Jay’s arrival had brought, and this thrill of excitement now as she regarded Simon was marked, and she could hardly conceal it. Poor Jay!

  Jay shrugged ominously and stepped forward, his jaw tight.

  Simon looked up then and saw him, stopping short, his shock and confusion evident.

  "Oh! I–"

  Oh, God, no! Her scalp tingled. She turned to see Jay’s handsome, chiseled face arrested in a muddled expression of concern, confusion, hurt and irritation.

  “What’s… ” His dark eyes pulled away and locked in astonishment on their target. If looks could kill, she thought.

  “Jay…" she hissed. She could try to explain either or both of them away, but who was she kidding? She faced Simon. “Jay just stopped by… unannounced. He’s leaving now.”

  Simon stepped through the door, his jaw hard, his unwavering blue eyes as cold as ice. “Are you alright?” He set the wine and poinsettia down on the oak hall table with a solid thunk, his hands lingering on them, his eyes sliding back to Jay’s. “Good evening,” he said, a tight smile pulling at his cheeks. His head swung in her direction. “If this is a bad time, I can—”

  Kate swallowed hard, looking from Simon to Jay and back again. Their eyes were fused in a silent dual, shooting daggers and unspoken threats.

  She had to say something. This was unbearable. “Uh, Simon? I’ve told you about Jay. Jay, this is Simon.” She laid one hand lightly on Simon’s arm, claiming him. “He’s just arrived for dinner.” The explanation felt pathetic, and Kate reeled at the tension in the room. “Jay is…” she stopped, uncertain what to call him.

  “The man who hopes to marry Kate,” he said grimly, his eyes unwavering.

  “Jay, please. We’ve…we ended our relationship.” She shook her head slowly, her throat thickening. “Please don’t—”

  “Don’t what, Kate?” His gaze met hers darkly, and she cowered under his accusing glare. “What’s going on here, exactly?”

  “It’s none of your business anymore. Please leave.” Kate fought to stop her chin from trembling.

  There was no sense dissembling. Jay had to understand. She held her breath and lifted her chin, her eyes on Jay’s face, as his dark hazel eyes flitted from her face to Simon’s again and again in disbelief. She could see the veins pulsing in Jay’s temple and a hollow twitch in Simon’s tightly clenched jaw. Her blood roared in her ears, drowning out all sounds but the rapid drumbeat of her pulse. It felt to her as if an hour passed.

  Finally, thankfully, she saw resignation and acceptance dawn on Jay’s face. He squared his jaw and jutted his chin, a cool, knowing expression settling into his eyes like a shroud and she felt him withdraw from her emotionally, as though he’d constructed a wall around himself, brick by brick, as they stood there by the door. She felt her heart squeeze painfully in sympathy, like a cold hand tightening around it. He didn’t deserve this humiliation. He’d been a wonderful friend and lover to her. He’d done his best. It just hadn’t been enough.

  “Congratulations, Simon. You’ve won yourself a grand prize indeed.” Jay reached out a hand toward Simon, ever the gentleman, though his chauvinistic words irritated Kate while they attempted to compliment.

  Simon’s eyes narrowed, still holding Jay’s steady gaze without flinching. He didn’t take Jay’s offered hand.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Jay said to Kate, tight-lipped. He turned and went out the door without another word, without another glance in Kate’s direction.

  Several tense moments passed after Kate silently closed the door on the sound of Jay's footsteps retreating down the stairs. She ventured a look toward Simon’s face. “I’m sorry. He just dropped in. Terrible timing.”

  Kate watched Simon slip out of his coat and hang it up. His trim, broad-shouldered frame was accentuated by a fine grey cashmere crew neck sweater. She realized she was ogling the contours of muscle on his arms and back, and pulled her admiring eyes away.

  He stepped forward and wrapped her in a warm hug, squeezing and releasing her, stepping back to dip his head and study her expression. He peered at her, unspoken questions in his shadowed blue eyes.

  Her breath was still shaky. “I need a drink.”

  “Yeah, I imagine. Try that. I’m sorry if it doesn’t go with your food. It’s an Australian cab-sauv.”

  “That will be perfect. It’s Italian. The food I mean. I’ll get the opener.” She was grateful for something to do, and took the bottle in a bag to the kitchen. She popped the eggplant Parmigianino into the preheated oven while she was there, ditched the bag and carried the wine and opener back to the table. She was twitchy again, despite her best efforts to stay calm, and fumbled with the wine opener, unable to coordinate her trembling hands.

  Simon sidled up and gently covered her hands with his, pulling the wine and opener from her, deftly opening the bottle and pouring into the glasses, then set the bottle down and handed her one glass. She smiled awkwardly and gestured toward the sofa and he led the way.

  He chose a seat that faced her massive Christmas tree, tilting his head back to take in the lights and sparkling ornaments that climbed up to its lofty peak. She was grateful not to have to meet his eyes.

  “I can’t remember if you told me how you got this monster in here.”

  She laughed softly. “I have a couple of strapping young contractors that help me out.”

  He raised a suggestive eyebrow at that. “I’m glad you didn’t say Jay.”

  She lowered her eyes. She wasn’t ready to explain. She hadn’t expected Jay to turn up, or to put up a fight. It had shaken her up.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Kate swallowed salt, feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes. “Not really.” Her voice shook. She shook her head to clear it. “I…he’s having trouble dealing with the break up. I really hurt…” her chin trembled, and she stopped. “I’m sorry.” She covered her face with her hand.

&n
bsp; His fingertips stroked her hair gently, soothing.

  “I’m really sorry to have put you in that position.”

  She sniffed, getting control. “It was only partly you. It had to happen anyway. But he really is a decent guy.”

  He looked back at her tree. “You put all those lights and things up yourself?”

  “Of course.” She smiled, grateful at the change of subject. It was just another example of Simon’s sensitivity, in contrast to Jay’s self-centeredness. She didn’t want to compare him to Jay, but the thought pushed itself into her consciousness anyway. “It’s ambitious, I know, but it’s worth it. It’s my favourite part of the holidays. I could forego the rest, just for the lights.”

  Simon grunted. “Food’s important too, though. Wouldn’t be the same without the food.” His blue eyes twinkled with humor.

  “You’re quite the foodie, aren’t you?” She smiled. It was a natural introduction to a conversation about their respective family traditions, and anecdotes collected over the years. Soon the encounter with Jay was all but forgotten, and they were laughing together. He got more high marks for being a warm and easy conversationalist, and for not pushing her on the subject of Jay. They always seemed to fall naturally into a comfortable camaraderie. There was nothing forced or uptight or false about their times together.

  Simon cleared his throat, compelling her to turn and look at him questioningly. “Now that the case is over...” he said. Kate’s stomach fluttered with a surge of panic. “What’s been happening with Sharon’s claim?”

  She released her breath in a flood of relief. Kate filled him in, explaining how her mentor at the Justice Institute was probably responsible for avoiding a full hearing. She quite consciously left out the part about Rose being the one who counseled her through the roughest patches in the past. There was nothing Rose didn’t know about Kate. That was one reason this episode with Simon becoming public was so humiliating for her. She sighed heavily. “I suppose I should be grateful. I expect I’ll hear from them before Christmas. I hope so anyway. It’s killing me, the waiting.”

  Simon reached to gently push the hair from her eyes with a finger. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. And I’m really sorry for my part in it. But I have a good feeling about it.”

  Kate prayed he was right, but she couldn’t be so confident. She sighed and rose. “I’d better check the oven.” Almost an hour had passed, and yet it felt like mere minutes. She was trying to keep her cool, but instead it felt as though she were being carried on a bed of clouds, her feet not quite touching the ground.

  Simon’s voice carried in to her. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

  “No, go ahead. Whatever you want.” Moments later, the joyful twang Cindy Church singing “It’s Christmas” from her Quartette disc floated onto the air. Oh! He’d chosen her favourite Christmas album. But that meant nothing, of course; it had been on top of the pile.

  “That’s nice. Dinner’s almost ready.” Her voice sounded thin and reedy in her ears. Kate stole a moment alone in the kitchen, trying to sooth herself. She wet a tea towel, and dabbed its cool edge on her temples and on the back of her neck. This wasn’t going according to plan at all. Not only was Simon being a perfect, kind, adorable, and sexy gentleman but she was a wreck! Not at all the cool objective critic of his shortcomings she’d planned to be.

  She strode to the table, setting down a large bowl of salad, and lit the candles, hoping Simon didn’t see her unsteady hands.

  He was beside her. “Do you always eat by candlelight?” His voice was warm and teasing.

  The familiar lines from another Christmas song wove themselves into her consciousness with images of cold winter weather, and a couple alone together. She felt the heat of his body next to her arm, and willed herself to stay calm. “I do actually. Even when I’m alone. It stops me from snarfing my food.” She laughed, and cringed inwardly at the nearly hysterical note she heard.

  “You’re quite the romantic.” He was facing her, but she resolutely examined the table setting, correcting the placement of forks and napkins as the lyrics of the song painted a picture of lovers spending a winter night embracing by a fire.

  “You are too, I think,” she ventured. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, and she gripped the back of a chair for support.

  “You know I am.” She felt his hand on her shoulder. He turned her to face him, and she forced herself to look serenely up into his face. His look was kindness itself, not threatening, and yet the heat that lay beneath his tender expression caused his eyes to blaze. He brought his knuckles up to caress her cheek. It was an incredibly intimate gesture that threatened to turn her knees to butter. “Thanks for doing this.”

  There was nothing she could do to alter his course. Not that she wanted to. Her arms and legs were petrified, and she could feel a tremor surging upward and through her, ready to take down her foundation and topple her. She was held captive in a trance while a part of her observed his face bend close to hers. She wondered if her pounding heart was visible through her sweater. Of their own accord, her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his lips brush softly against hers. She adored his gentle kisses, pent with controlled passion. There was nothing she could have done to prevent her body from responding to his touch, feeling herself sway toward him. Sensations washed over her one by one as heat flooded her body. Her thighs tingled and tightened, her breasts prickled and warmed, and her breath quickened alarmingly. Objectively indeed! She had a very powerful bias toward this man, and couldn’t imagine ever becoming bored or irritated by him. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer.

  But, a voice inside her head shouted, This is not what you want! She forced herself to pull away from his embrace, shaking her head. Is it? Wordlessly, her unsteady legs carried her to the kitchen to retrieve their dinner before it burned. When she returned with the Parmigianino, he hadn’t moved, and stood considering her with a quizzical expression, his head tilted slightly.

  “Parmigiano de melanzane,” she announced in a quavering voice as she set the steaming hot dish down on the table. At least she knew she could distract him with food—for a while.

  “Lucky me,” he exclaimed, eyeing it with interest. Was that a hint of sarcasm in his tone?

  “I’ll be right back with the bread.” When Kate returned, Simon had refilled their wine glasses and stood poised behind his chair, waiting for her to sit. She almost overturned the breadbasket as she set it down and recovering, moved to her chair. She smoothed her hair with fluttering hands. “Please, sit down.”

  They both sat. She offered him bread, and he helped himself, breaking it and eating it slowly, sipping his wine and gazing at her overlong, his eyes serious though that private amused smile lurked just below the surface. She felt her cheeks grow very warm, and busied herself to avoid looking directly at him. Kate served them both, and then raised her glass. “Buon appetito.” I’m behaving like a ditz, she observed critically. He’ll think I’m a fool.

  The corners of his lips quirked up and he raised his eyebrows and dug in. He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face and went back for another forkful, and another, before stopping. “This is amazing. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  She couldn’t help beaming in pride, her chest expanding, and her face stretching in a grin. “You exaggerate.”

  “I do not. You’ve found the key to my heart. Between your muffins and this, I’m determined to have ten children with you.”

  She looked up sharply, the heat rushing to her cheeks. “You’re joking. What a thing to say.”

  He smiled roguishly. “I may be embellishing, but I’m not joking really, no.”

  Her smile failed her while her mind whirled desperately. Was he just teasing her? How could she remain objective under such an onslaught? If she wasn’t already hopelessly in love with him, surely she would fall in love tonight. The effort of holding back her natural responses bled her. She felt her breathing come short and shallow and her sen
ses throbbed like something soft and alive, some pulsing organism, a sea anemone perhaps. She wouldn’t get through the evening at this rate, she felt so lightheaded. She had to break the tension, move, change something. She grabbed the salad bowl and thrust it at Simon. “Salad?”

  Simon took the bowl from her with a wry smile. “Thanks.”

  He seemed to sense her anxiety. They passed the remainder of dinner without further propositions or flattery. Instead, Simon ate heartily, and artfully steered the conversation toward D'arcy and Eli, and how they were doing on their own, together again.

  When they’d finished eating, they sat awhile, staring at each other. She still felt tense, but better, easier than that paralyzing moment earlier. After a few awkward minutes of fidgeting, she gathered the dishes, and he sat, following her movements with his eyes, but otherwise sitting perfectly still, his fingertips steepled in front of his chin. He was very cat-like, and she imagined him patiently eyeing his prey, his tail swishing. She detected a hint of a smile teasing one corner of his mouth.

  Stopping, she gazed at him, questioning. “And just what makes you think there is any desert?” She couldn’t help but smile.

  He broke into a grin. “I know you. And moreover, you know me.” His eyes had darkened to indigo and were twinkling with humour.

  She shook her head, suppressing a smile. “Might I suggest you take a breather, after three helping of dinner? Perhaps in a few minutes you’ll be able to do justice to the p-i-e.”

  He lifted his eyebrows, nodding, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and finally stood to help her clear the dishes. Ooh. How could he be so annoyingly cool and coy at the same time? He was torturing her. After tidying up and putting away the leftovers they took the remaining wine and sat together on the sofa again, contemplating the tree. Kate really wanted to dim the room lights and bask in the twinkling multi-coloured glow of the Christmas tree, but she knew it would seem too… well, just too.

  Apparently, he needed no such encouragement, for Simon slipped his arm comfortably around her shoulders and they continued sitting quietly gazing at the tree. Holding herself back from sinking into his embrace, Kate was anything but quiet on the inside, although part of her wanted to relax and relish the moment. Staying cool was proving to be impossible. So far she was ranging from very warm to sizzling hot. Her neck and shoulder were on fire with the touch of his arm, making her efforts to appear nonchalant ridiculous as she took a sip of her wine. Naturally, she dribbled wine over her chin, and had to wipe it away, gasping in embarrassment.