Dumping Billy (27 page)

“Why in the world would you show baby clothes to Billy?” Kate asked, and was surprised by the irritation in her voice.

They reached the promenade, and Kate looked around appreciatively. Bina didn’t pay much attention. She chatted on about the shower and then suggested they walk back to Isobel’s to eat.

Brooklyn Heights was not really part of Brooklyn, Kate had always thought. It was Manhattan once removed, and the view of the island from the promenade was breathtaking. They were quiet for a little while, and then Bina broke the silence. “All I’ve been doing is talking about myself. So,” she said with contrived casualness, “where did you and Michael go last night?”

“We went to a movie,” Kate informed her friend, and realized she had said it with about as much enthusiasm as if they had gone to a funeral.

“The new George Clooney?” Bina asked, her eyes lighting up. To Bina, George Clooney was a walking god.

“Not exactly,” Kate began. How could she explain their visit to the Film Forum? “We went to see a documentary.”

“Oh,” Bina said. “About what?”

“Afghan women and their struggle for literacy,” Kate said flatly.

Bina looked confused by the very thought. Kate figured that the last documentary Bina had seen was something they’d had to watch in grade school.

“That sounds . . . serious,” Bina stammered, apparently unsure how to respond. She paused and looked across the bay at the Empire State Building, whose red, white, and blue lights had just been lit. “So, are you two getting serious?”

Kate could hear Mrs. Horowitz’s voice channeled through Bina’s lips. “I’m not sure,” she said.

“There’s not a serious bone in Billy’s body . . . and what a body,” Bina added.

“Bina!” Kate exclaimed. She looked over at her friend, whose change since Jack’s departure seemed to be a lot more than physical. “You didn’t . . . I mean, you wouldn’t . . .” The thought of Bina with Billy disturbed her deeply. She tried to decide whether it was fear for Bina or envy.

“Of course not. I still love Jack,” Bina said. Kate breathed a sigh of relief. “But I’ve got eyes. And he’s got hands.” Bina raised her brows playfully.

Kate was not sure this talk was as lighthearted as Bina was making it out to be. She herself had felt Billy’s devastating, if shallow, charm, and Bina was nothing if not inexperienced. “Bina, remember you are not supposed to be getting attached to this guy. He’s only a means to an end—at least according to you and Elliot.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. This whole plan is going to work. I just have a feeling.” Bina paused. “And there’s something else. Billy makes me feel . . . well, it’s like I feel prettier when I’m with him.” She looked away for a minute, and her face reddened. “I mean, I know people are probably looking at him, not me. But it makes me feel special, too.” She smiled as if remembering something. “He always tells me how nice I look, and he notices things, like if I wear a barrette.” She paused again. Then she lowered her voice, as if what she had to say were fragile and could be broken easily. “You know how much I love Jack.” Kate nodded. “Well, I saw Max—you know, he’s so nice. I don’t understand why he isn’t hooked up with someone. Anyway, he told me that Jack was sending him e-mails.”

Kate managed not to gasp or show any emotion. A single one of those pictures would break Bina’s heart.

“Anyway, I’m certain he misses me. And when he comes back, I’m sure he’ll ask me to marry him.”

The two of them walked down Henry Street. Kate was afraid to say a word to her friend. She didn’t want to encourage her about Jack, and though she did want to discourage her about any attachment to Billy Nolan, she was not sure of her motives. They came to Henry’s End restaurant, which was already bustling even though it was early for dinner. Well, Kate reminded herself, people ate earlier on this side of the river. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “Shall we eat here instead of Isobel’s?”

“Sure,” Bina told her. “Just don’t make me eat a Bambi—and don’t you eat Thumper.” Henry’s End was famous for wild game, though Kate would settle for steak.

“You can trust me on that,” she told Bina.

Her friend took her arm. “I’ll always trust you, Katie.” They paused for a moment. “Hey, maybe you and Michael will get married and we could have a double wedding. My parents would love that.”

Kate had a flash of an overdone ceremony, with the two of them walking down the aisle on Dr. Horowitz’s arm. After that it would be a life full of documentaries, talks of anthropological discoveries, and Texas cocktail parties.

“Please, Bina,” Kate said. “Not when we are near a very high bridge with a lot of cold water underneath it.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

T
here’s a possibility you’re actually going to get engaged?” Elliot asked Kate, his face pruning up with disapproval. They were sitting in the Starbucks located exactly halfway between his apartment and hers.

“You better stop disliking him,” Kate told Elliot. “If I
do
marry him, and you stay snotty, I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

“Wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine,” Elliot warbled. Kate shook her head. “Like I’m really threatened that you’d give up our friendship,” he continued. “Who else do you have to talk about every detail of your emotional seismograph and Barbara Pym, too?”

Kate smiled. It was true she described every tremor to Elliot, and like a geophysicist, he had predicted when the earthquakes were coming to rock her world. And Barbara Pym, a British author she and Elliot both reread frequently, was one of her secret addictions. Kate found her novels soothing because almost nothing happened in them; no one’s feelings were hurt, and very little changed. A big event was a visit from the vicar, and most chapters ended with someone having a hot, milky drink. Which reminded Kate about Elliot’s beverage.

“Did you know that there are more calories in that coconut frappuccino than three Big Macs?” Kate asked.

“Speaking of Max,” Elliot said, ignoring her concern, “is he still sniffing around? And is he sniffing around you or Bina?”

Kate made a dismissive gesture. Like a good mom, Elliot always thought every man was in love with Kate, and if they weren’t, he was offended. “He seems to be busy carrying news about Jack to anyone who’ll listen. I think he still feels guilty because he introduced Bina to him. Anyway, he’s harmless.” Kate grimaced as Elliot used his straw to suck up every last molecule of liquid at the very bottom of his cup. “That is truly disgusting,” she said.

“Well, I promise not to do it in front of your friends at the shower.”

“Bev’s shower?” Kate asked, her voice rising. “You’re invited to Bev’s shower?”

“You sound surprised,” Elliot said. Then, in a mocking tone, he added, “You know, Bev and Brice and I are
very
close.” Kate merely rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I saw Brian Conroy at lunch today, and he was actually laughing with two other little bandits,” he continued. “I think they were slinging tunafish salad at the girls’ table, but I didn’t catch them at it. You might actually be doing some good work,” he said.

They looked at each other for a long moment, Elliot smiling at her, his brown eyes warm and affectionate, and Kate basked in his approval. Then, as was their custom, they simultaneously shook their heads and bleated, “Nah!!”

“So what is it with you and Michael?” Kate asked, returning to the subject. “He’s the kind of stable, nice guy you’ve wanted for me. And he likes me.” As she looked down at the bracelet hanging from her wrist, her cell phone rang. She was expecting a call from Rita about drinks after Rita got out of work, which wasn’t usually until six or seven o’clock. She pulled out her cell phone and, without even glancing at the caller ID, hit the green button.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully, fully expecting Rita’s nasal voice.

“Hi back atchya,” said Steven’s voice.

Kate felt her stomach contract and drop. Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in her lungs. “Oh. Steven. Hello.” She opened her eyes wide, but not as wide as Elliot’s.

“Steven?
The
Steven?” he mouthed.

Kate, already rattled, looked away. She could feel her throat tighten.

“Am I getting you at a bad time?” Steven asked.

She wanted to say, “No. The bad time was the six months after you stopped calling,” but needless to say, she didn’t. Any time was a bad time to talk to Steven, as far as she was concerned. “No,” she said. “I’m just having coffee with Elliot.” She could have bitten her tongue. Why couldn’t she have said she was with a date?

“Good old Elliot,” Steven said, which made Kate even more annoyed with herself. “I miss him.” His voice dropped a half register. “I miss
you,
too,” he said.

Kate felt a flush spreading to her neck and chest. Meanwhile, Elliot was crouching in front of her, pulling his index finger across his throat to get her to cut off the conversation. She turned her head to the right.

Kate didn’t need to be reminded of how dangerous Steven was. She had really loved him, and he had encouraged her attachment. Long ago, Kate had made a rule never to care for any man more than he cared for her. But Steven had cared for her—at least as long as the early lust stage had lasted. Then, after eighteen months his ardor and his commitment had dropped off. Kate hadn’t felt it at first, and by the time she had realized that he was not still focused on her, she had run into him walking with the woman to whom his focus had shifted. When Kate, humiliated, had confronted him, he had been reluctant to admit the truth and had reassured her that nothing had happened between him and Sabrina, but after Kate broke up with him, a miserable six weeks later, he and Sabrina had hooked up. Now, the question Kate longed to ask was, “What’s happened to Sabrina?” But she wouldn’t let her curiosity overwhelm her common sense and pride.

“Look, I thought we might meet for a coffee or something,” Steven said.

“I don’t think so,” Kate said. “I’m having coffee right now.”

“You’re not making this easy,” Steven said, and the depth of feeling in his voice gave Kate a little thrill. All at once she realized what she had felt was missing in Michael—access to deeper feelings or the ability to express them.

But Steven’s feelings, deep or not, had not been dependable. He was either an excellent actor (Elliot’s opinion) or a man afraid of his own emotions, longing for connection and then backing away from it (Kate’s theory). Kate still believed that Steven had loved her but had been afraid.

“Was it my job to make it easy?” Kate asked. Elliot rolled his eyes and put a hand over his own mouth to indicate that she should shut up—as if she didn’t know that already. She swatted at him.

“Kate, you have every right to be pissed at me. But I swear that a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of you, or missed you, or even tried to get up the courage to phone you.”

“It must have been a tough year,” Kate said.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of me,” Steven said, and all of it—the miserable nights, the lonely weekends, the mornings she woke up alone and missing him—came rushing back.

“I’ve been pretty busy,” she said. “And I’m about to get engaged. . . .”

Elliot bolted upright, gave her a thumbs-up with both hands, and then sank back into his chair as if exhausted.

There was silence at the other end of the phone, and Kate was torn between two emotions: She wanted Steven to give up and feel just a little bit of pain on her account. She also wanted him to try harder, and she was ashamed and embarrassed by that.

“Would that stop you from just having a drink with me?” Steven asked. “I really feel as if I need to tell you what happened. I mean, I’m in therapy now and . . . I just understand a few things that I didn’t know before.”

Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Steven had learned about himself. And she knew it wasn’t a good idea to see him. But she felt an irresistible pull toward him. “How about next Monday,” she said. “About four o’clock.”

“That would be great,” Steven said. “Onieal’s?” It was a restaurant on Grand Street, a cool but lush bar and dining room. It had been a place they often went to, not far from his loft.

“No,” she said. She didn’t want to be seduced into drinks followed by dinner followed by anything else. It was out of the question. She thought as quickly as she could about a more neutral site. “How about Starbucks?” And after he agreed she hung up and threw her phone into her purse.

“You are not going!” Elliot said. “You know why you’re not going? Because I cannot hear one more word about that stupid fucking ass-fuck. Do you know how much Steven I had to live with last year? How many times can a man—even a gay man—sing ‘I Will Survive’ with you?”

Kate didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. They did actually sing Gloria Gaynor’s song a few times, but only at Elliot’s demand and because it always made her laugh.

“We wore out three CDs, and speaking of wearing out, you might be self-destructive, but I have a life and I can’t go through another Steven bout. Maybe you don’t remember what it did to you, but I do. And I just can’t take it. Neither can you.”

“I’m not going to go through another Steven ‘bout,’” Kate snapped. “But he’s in therapy and he probably needs some closure.”

“What he probably needs is some pussy,” Elliot said. “And that’s fine with me as long as it isn’t yours.”

“Elliot!”

“I can’t believe he calls you for the first time in a year in the middle of the afternoon on your cell phone and you make a date with him. Have you no pride?” Elliot asked, then continued without waiting for an answer: “You’re a disgrace to your sex. It’s because of you that women need to read
The Rules
and those other stupid self-help books.” He moved his arms in a spasm of disgust and completely upset Kate’s drink. “Oh, shit,” he said, and Kate wasn’t sure if he was referring to the spill or her mistake.

Because it was a mistake. Wasn’t it?

Chapter Thirty

I
t was crowded in Bunny and Arnie’s new apartment; everyone sat or stood in perfect silence in the dark. Which was quite a trick when Kate considered the compulsive talkers she was there with. Bunny, Barbie, Mrs. Horowitz, Bina, two of Bev’s cousins, Bev’s mom and two aunts, assorted friends from work, and Bev’s astrologist, not to mention Elliot and Brice, were all there and quiet. But only for a moment.