He shifted his weight and she froze. “Tell me something.” She could feel his soft warm breath against her hair, and knew he had turned to face her. She felt her breath catch, waiting for him to continue. He reached toward her face and gently wiped a spot on her chin. “Can you honestly explain to me why we should not keep on doing this ‘til the end of time?”
Kate’s eyes were drawn to his like magnets. She felt as though he could see into the depths of her soul, and know her darkest secrets, though with her mind she knew this was not so. She made a feeble attempt to diffuse the tension by laughing, saying, “You mean gaze at the Christmas tree and slobber wine down our selves?”
He withheld his smile. “Don’t try to hide from me, Kate. You keep negating our feelings. I came here to sort this out.”
She was incapable of speech, robbed of breath. Her eyes slid over his shoulder.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
She did as he asked, and knew he could see both her fierce love, and her naked fear.
“I know you’re afraid. But I don’t really understand why?”
She shook her head and felt her lip quiver with the tears that choked her and pricked at her eyes.
He reached for her face again, but this time he cupped her cheek softly in the palm of his large hand, caressing her with his thumb, gently wiping away a fugitive tear. “I’ve fallen in love with you. With my eyes wide open.” He shrugged helplessly, dropping his hand. “Perhaps unfortunately for you, this time I’m not afraid of what that means. I want to love you completely and forever, and somehow we can’t even get started. I’m very frustrated, trying to understand. Please, let me, Kate.” His voice broke on his last beseeching words and she could see the lights of the Christmas tree reflected in his glistening eyes. “Is it Jay?”
Oh, how she wanted to surrender to his love! Kate felt every cell of her being yearning for him, reaching, electrified, aching. What would life be like with Simon there beside her, every day and always? “Oh, Simon, I… ” She didn’t know what to say. How could she explain to him her convoluted fears? “It’s not Jay. He… he asked me to marry him, but… ” She shook her head, realized how unfair it was to have held on to him. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Tell me then…”
Kate raised her left hand to knead her furrowed brow. “I want to believe you.”
“You don’t? You don't think you're worthy of my love?”
She cringed. “I know you’re sincere. I mean I know you believe it.” She licked her lips, praying for the right words. “I don’t really know what you’re looking for, and…” She chewed her lip. “…and I really don’t know what I need.” She paused in response to the look of hurt on his face. “No. Don’t take that the wrong way. I want to be honest with you. There have been plenty of very nice men in my life, even those declaring their love for me, and no matter what happens, I always find, in the end, I spoil it. I can’t give my self completely to them, however much I admire them. ”
"How is it you've brought so many men to their knees?" His lips pressed into a straight line. “And always end up alone?”
“My heart is guarded. It’s damaged.” She clenched her fist, then opened her hand toward him. “But you’re different. I want to give it to you, Simon. I really do. This time.” Why did she add those last words? It was as though some devilish part of her wished to drag every ugly fact of her past out to show him, inviting him to examine and prod her wounds, like some soft creatures in a tide pool. “I’m…” she shrugged “…afraid.”
“What is it? You don’t trust me?” She became aware that his back was up. His mood took on a sharper edge, and she could feel his exasperation mounting.
She shook her head. “I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to need you too much. I feel I'll lose myself. The life that I've built.”
“Is that why you throw yourself into your work? At what cost? Maybe if you accepted love in your life, and trusted me to be here for you, you could relax about your career instead of driving yourself so hard.”
She could only stare at his face, frowning. Every thing that he said resonated, each piece straining to fit into a whole explanation. He was trying so hard to understand her. But what could she tell him? How could she explain?
Simon gazed at her, his eyes remote, shifting, seeming to deliberate for several beats. He paused, the muscles in his jaw working, his eyes on the tree. “You don't make sense. I don’t want to push you, Kate. I can give you as much time as you need. But I have to see more of you. We have to give this a chance. Whatever is bothering you, we can work through it, or…” He jerked his shoulder abruptly. “…learn to live with it.” He didn’t seem overjoyed with this last option. “Just don't kick me to the curb out of fear. Please.”
Kate was overcome with guilt and grief. He truly was a wonderful, kind and caring man. How could she explain that the problem was her, not him. She chose her words carefully and forced herself to say them, despite the knifing pain she felt in her heart. “It’s not your fault, Simon. You deserve to be with someone whole. It isn’t fair to continue dating you until I’ve dealt with my own baggage. It might be easier… better to work things out with Rachel. She can’t be any crazier than me.” She choked back a sob.
She saw him flinch, a spark of blue fire in his eyes. She thought for a moment that she might have pushed him to the edge of his temper at last. A tense silence stretched between them, unspoken words and threatened trust hanging thick in the air like a noxious gas cloud.
He growled through his clenched teeth. “I don’t love Rachel, damn it. I love you.” He gripped her shoulders and shook her once as he said them, and the dark, wild look in his eyes, hooded as they were by furrowed, bushy brows, was frightening and familiar, cutting like cold steel through her heart, despite his words. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Even if you are crazy.”
She heard herself gasp and sob as more hysterical tears escaped and sliced across her temples. Her heart fluttered wildly at his words, a dove straining at the bars of its cage. Mindlessly, she thought, I want you to fight me. Prove me wrong. I want you to win! And yet, she cowered, turning her face aside, her shoulders shaking, her hands flying up to cover her face.
He sucked air through his teeth, trying to bring himself under control. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around her, tight and hard as iron bars, for a brief moment before releasing her, in slow motion, tender and contrite. “I’m sorry.”
Motionless, Simon stared glumly into her face. He kissed her between the eyebrows and said again, “I’m sorry,” shaking his head. They both knew there was no point in pursuing it any further tonight.
Kate wasn’t sure what had been settled, if anything. Her insides felt like a knot of twisted wire, sharp and tangled and raw. She wiped furiously at the tears drying on her face, the echo of her frightful sobs still quaking her bones.
Simon drew a long slow breath and released it. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
Perplexed, she stuttered without thinking, “I… n-nothing, really. Probably just hang with Alexa. My family… th-they’ll all be in San Francisco but...”
“Good. Then they won’t miss you. I want you join me and Maddie for Christmas Eve dinner. I’m cooking for Will and a few friends. Bring Alexa.” His air of reassuring lightness was obviously forced, but still, just what was called for. He lifted her chin with one bent finger. “It’ll be good, you’ll see.”
Kate felt a final shudder run through her. Without another word, Simon pulled her into his embrace and held her tightly, caressing her back and hair until she was calm, warm and still. Finally, he pulled away from her and held her at arm’s length, holding her eyes, his crooked half smile teasing her. “You know I’m not leaving without pie.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kate had insisted that Alexa detour downtown to pick her up for Christmas dinner at Simon’s house, arguing that she was, under no circumstances, arriving there al
one to fend for herself among strangers, intimates of Simon’s no less. Alexa thought she was being a baby for needing moral support, but came to get her anyway.
“Relax and enjoy the evening. Don’t worry so much.”
Alexa had been reticent, initially, about the idea of spending Christmas Eve at Simon’s. But then, with a twinkle in her eye, she’d agreed.
“So. You must be relieved. What did the letter say, exactly?”
Thankfully, Sharon’s complaint had generated only a brief formal letter from the society president. She was still stunned at the outcome of all those weeks of worry. “Oh, he very diplomatically reminded me to make full disclosures in the future to avoid triggering this kind of misunderstanding.”
“That’s a really nice Christmas gift,” Alexa said. “I’m so glad.”
Kate agreed. However much of a relief the formal letter was to receive, even better was the long, compassionate, personal note from her mentor Rose that accompanied it. Amazingly, there would be no serious consequences affecting her career, or her award and presentation at the annual meeting in January. She could still barely believe that she’d been so lucky.
But though she was relieved, and had been ecstatically dancing around her loft yesterday, at the moment her mind could not focus on work. This moment was for Simon. Simon and herself.
Despite her apprehension, Kate was determined to do this, to spend the time with Simon that he wanted. Not least because of her commitment to him, but also because of her pact with Eli. It was really a promise to herself. To keep no more secrets. To peel away any defensive mask of deceit. To stare down her demons once and for all.
Simon’s house was festooned with colored lights when they arrived, with a lush festive wreath on the green door. A stout Christmas tree stood sentinel in the front window among the silhouettes of milling bodies visible through the veil of drapery. She turned to Alexa, seizing her arm in a death grip.
They paused on the porch a moment in rising clouds of their own condensing breath and she shivered in the cold, crisp air. Scant dry snowflakes drifted down as she stood gathering her resolve.
“Take a deep breath. No hurry,” Alexa said, turning to offer her a reassuringly steady gaze and a wry grin.
Unexpectedly, the green door with the wreath swung open wide, spilling warm golden light over the deck of the porch and blinding them temporarily while threads of a sprightly Latin version of In Excelsius Deo plucked on a classical guitar rode out on a bubble of warm air.
“Don’t stand there hemming and hawing,” bellowed a blond giant who filled the frame of the door, making Kate step back to stretch her eyes up to his broad face. He grinned at her. His accent was unmistakably from Newfoundland.
She stood gaping. Where was Simon? The giant turned.
“And you mus’ be Alexa. Come in, come in, come in.” Suddenly Kate was grabbed by a massive paw and hauled in through the door like a rag doll.
In what felt like no time at all, she found herself at the table squeezed between Simon’s brother Will and his lawyer friend Casey, the large blond Newfie. She had the vaguest recollection spinning in her head of a string of introductions as she had slurped down her first glass of white wine. She looked around at the friendly and attentive strangers that surrounded the table, wondering if she'd remember everyone's names.
The inviting atmosphere was warm, and filled with the fragrance of evergreen and Asian spices emanating from Simon’s kitchen. He’d popped out for the briefest of hello’s and returned to his cooking, giving her the thinnest of lifelines with a second's meaningful eye contact. Alexa was no help, seated at the far end of the long table, already embroiled in some kind of red-faced debate with another friend she vaguely recalled from university days, a slovenly, bearded guy named Bruce. In Simon’s relative absence, Will had adopted a kind and protective manner, at odds with their one hostile encounter on the front step weeks ago.
Across from her a tall, hunched big-boned woman, with a large, concave face like a serving platter, and skin as white and soft as pastry dough was asking her a string of questions about how she knew Simon. Her androgynous voice was nasal and sibilant. Kate recalled her introducing herself as “Alberta Lowell, call me Bertie.” She had the hunched and twisted back caused by severe scoliosis, but for all that she was a powerful presence, and reminded her of Julia Child.
“He’ll be here shortly, don’t you worry. It’s quite a production, this feast of his, every year, but he insists on doing everything himself.”
“Every year?”
Bertie nodded.
“Well, it’ll be the first time I eat Thai food on Christmas Eve.” Kate wondered if she'd be able to eat anything after almost throwing up from anxiety on the ride over.
The children apparently had been fed earlier and relegated to the basement playroom. Kate was surprised, therefore, when Maddie dashed into the room. “Michelle! Emma spilled her juice and Jack says he won’t clean it up and she’s crying!”
“Oh, dear. Excuse me, please,” Casey’s wife Michelle, a thin, angular woman with over-large glasses said in her high-pitched voice, and slipped away.
Simon launched the meal bearing a soup tureen, announcing it was Tom Yum to wisecracking all around, setting it down and serving everyone, passing bowls. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at Kate halfway down the long table. “What are you doing sitting way down there?” he mumbled. She shrugged, but she didn’t miss the slanting glances and pressed lips from those around her. Simon rolled his eyes and smiled. It was plain she’d been absconded, but for good or ill was the question.
“Casey, would you do the honors?” Simon sat down expectantly.
“Aye. Aye.” Casey folded his huge hands together like two great Christmas hams and bent his flaxen head. “Lord, t’ank you for bringing our friends together this night, on the eve of your birt', to share in your bounty. Watch over our loved ones near, far and departed. Bless this food to our use and us to your service. Amen.”
A chorus of Amens led immediately to a cacophony of clattering cutlery and chattering voices as everyone simultaneously ate.
The fragrant soup was followed by spicy green mango salad, steaming coconut rice, shrimp on sticks, deep fried tofu and curries in several colours. Finally, Simon carried in a large platter of Pad Thai noodles to a chorus of compliments.
Before he took his seat, Simon walked up behind her and gave her arm an affectionate, reassuring squeeze. Bertie asked about Simon’s parents, who were on a cruise, while Kate gazed at him, wishing he was sitting beside her.
“Simon, boy,” called Casey. “Come here a minute, will you.”
“Excuse me,” Simon touched her shoulder and moved around the table. The warmth of his fingers inexplicably infused her with courage and contentment. Kate’s eyes followed him as he exchanged affectionate words with Casey, and then stood by Bruce and Alexa for a few minutes, listening then laughing with genuine amusement.
Bertie smiled at her with a knowing look. “His folks like to seek out warmer climes. Simon got his travel bug from them, I suppose. Are you a traveler too?”
“Yes. I guess I am.”
Bertie nodded. “That’s good. I’ve often wondered if Simon would find another woman to share his life. Whoever settles for him would have no regrets.”
Kate gasped. “No. He’s an exceptional man in every way.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Ah… you’ve known him long?”
“Since he was a youngster. I was a neighbour and babysat the two boys for years. He’s always been so good to me.”
“Oh, really?” Kate said. “Has he changed much?”
“Yes and no. He’s… mellowed.” Bertie’s face sobered thoughtfully. “He’s had a heavy heart.” Bertie leaned toward Kate, nodding and smiling broadly. “Or he did, after Rachel. I’ve noticed a change in him of late.”
Kate felt her face flush with heat.
The laconic Bruce heaved himself to his feet and raised his beer. “A toast to
our favorite chef, a most generous and talented host, our Simon.” His podgy face harbored glittering dark eyes as sharp and devious as a fox’s. She remembered him being almost as thin as Simon. Kate smirked, noting he was keeping a keen eye on Alexa, who was now pointedly ignoring him.
Simon flashed a grin at everyone, but it was Kate’s eyes he sought and held, and they sparkled with pleasure. She felt herself warm in response. He dipped his head in acknowledgement, then rose from his chair and raised his glass. “I’d like to add a special toast. Congratulations to Kate, who’s just had some good news with regard to her career. She’s survived a potential crisis,” he grinned and winked at her, “and will be receiving a special award in the New Year. To Kate.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Alexa said.
Kate felt her face heat while everyone raised their glasses in salute, wondering what, if anything, Simon had told his friends about their embarassing work-place flirtation.
She was soon engrossed in conversation with Will, Casey, Bertie and Lily, coyly fielding their questions, as she relished Simon’s amazingly flavorful dishes. Again and again, she felt Simon’s gaze on her like hot darts and her eyes slid over to meet his. Inevitably, his mouth curled into the familiar half-smile that undid her, and she felt herself soften and warm under his affectionate sensual stare. She had wanted to experience him in his own element, thinking that perhaps what stirred between them would wither or feel awkward, but her experience was quite the opposite. In the warmth and security of his home, his friends and traditions, she felt entirely welcome, entirely connected to him.
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