Dumping Billy (36 page)

Kate and the guys walked in and joined the others. There were kisses and hugs and introductions. Kate added her gift to the big, colorful pile already stacked on a card table. Then Mrs. Horowitz called out, “Sha! Sha! They’re coming!” Kate sighed while everyone else in the room seemed to suck in their breath so they could shout more loudly. Dr. Horowitz flung open the door and made way for Bina. Kate thought Bina did a miserable imitation of a surprised person, but no one seemed to notice. When Bina gave her a special look, Kate smiled at her.

The party went through each of its traditional phases: the weren’t- you- surprised- yes- I- was part; the no- you- shouldn’t- have- this- wasn’t- necessary section; and the oh- let’s- eat- isn’t- this- delicious portion (and they were big portions). The party culminated in the traditional oohing and aahing over gifts. Kate knew she was watching an important female rite of passage, but she just wasn’t in the mood. She regretted giving up the day with Billy, she was annoyed by all of the Horowitz extended family and their questions about when it was her turn, and she was bored by the chatter and old jokes, not to mention resentful of the way Brice and Elliot seemed to relish it all.

Kate wondered why Bina kept throwing looks at her and hoped that Elliot hadn’t told her about what he was now referring to as the “Billy thing.” Several times Bina seemed to try to get next to Kate and talk to her, but Kate managed to slip away. Elliot wouldn’t—couldn’t—break the confidentiality of her private situation without her permission.

When the cake was cut and being passed around, Kate could take no more and went into the bathroom to revive herself. She looked about as lousy as she felt. She put on some lipstick and a little blush, but it didn’t seem to do much. She decided it didn’t matter. She had been so happy for the past few weeks that her discomfort seemed especially painful. Why was seeing her friends such an onerous task? She thought about it for a little while. Kate believed she wasn’t like her friends. She had a career and loved her work. She hadn’t been out looking for a husband from the time she was twenty. She didn’t feel as if she needed a man to protect her or to support her. But somehow, because of breaking up with Michael or seeing Steven or because of this . . . thing with Billy Nolan, she felt as insecure and lonely as she used to feel back in high school.

Since her talk with Elliot, she had felt more and more doubt. Somehow, being here with Bina and all her married Brooklyn friends made it seem more unlikely that she would ever get to share their experience of this kind of group celebration. Billy wasn’t “a safe bet.” He was not the kind of man women got to marry or men threw bachelor parties for. Kate imagined his whole life had been a kind of bachelor party, and Elliot was right: There was no reason for her to think that would change. She began to feel extremely sorry for herself and realized it was best to leave the bathroom now before the tears set in.

As she walked into the hallway, Bina sidelined her. “I have to talk to you,” she hissed. “Quick, before anyone notices.” She took Kate’s hand and drew her down the narrow hallway to her bedroom.

Nothing had changed. The same flowered pink curtains hung at the window, the same matching wallpaper covered the walls, and the print repeated itself on Bina’s bedspread. The dressing table with the pink skirt that Kate had envied so when they were in seventh grade still sat between the two windows. Kate herself sat on the bench in front of it. “What is it?” she asked.

“Oh, Katie, I just can’t keep this lie going,” Bina said.

Kate took a deep breath. She loved her friend’s simplicity, but sometimes it was just too much. “Oh, Bina. Nobody cares. If you just act normal now and carry on, everyone will be thrilled.”

Bina’s face registered horror. “I can’t believe that you would tell me to do that,” she cried.

“Bina, it’s just a party. It’s not a lifetime.”

Bina’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I beg to differ with you. I think a marriage is supposed to last a lifetime.”

Kate stopped examining the pictures and mementos on the dressing table. “What are you talking about?” she said. “Just because you pretended to be surprised doesn’t mean you’re starting your marriage with a lie. For God’s sake, have a sense of proportion.”

Bina took a step backward, as if Kate had physically attacked her. Then her lips began to tremble. “Is it really you saying this?” she said. “Max thought you would understand, but even if you don’t, I can’t go through with it. I can’t marry Jack. It’s not like he really loves me. I know what he was up to in Hong Kong. Max showed me.”

Kate sighed angrily. After all that Bina had gone through to finally get Jack, it seemed a little late in the day to find a misplaced sense of pride. “Well, that was very wrong of Max. Remember, you were dating, too.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, come on, you had a lot of fun with Billy.”

“But that was just fun.”

Kate raised her brows. “And why are you feeling guilty about that little sexual escapade?”

“Because it wasn’t an escapade,” Bina said. “I keep comparing it to being with Jack, and . . .”

Kate certainly doubted that Jack could be anywhere near as erotic and imaginative and warm in bed. But she certainly couldn’t tell Bina why she suspected that. And it was hopeless for Bina to think about Billy as an alternative to Jack. Kate truly believed Bina loved Jack, and with a little time she would get over this guilt and unhealthy comparison and settle down.

“Bina,” she said, rising and taking her friend by her shoulders, “you have to get over this guilt. You have to move on. This is what you have wanted your whole life.”

“But I was wrong,” Bina wailed.

“No, you weren’t,” Kate told her. “You’re wrong now. So just calm down. Enjoy all this.”

Just then the door opened. “Oh, here they are,” Mrs. Horowitz sang out. “The best friends are at it in here,” she called, and lifted her camera to take what would develop into a hideously unflattering picture of both of them.

Chapter Forty-two

K
ate fumbled with the lock to her door and pushed in. The lights were on, and she gasped and almost jumped when she realized that her living room was filled with people. For a moment she was terrified that Elliot, Barbie, Bina, and the rest would scream, “Surprise!” But no one yelled—in fact, no one said anything. She couldn’t believe that Elliot—whom she had trusted with a key—would invade her nest, bringing a flock of raptors with him. She would get her keys back, and she would get him back some other way. Before she had a chance to ask what the hell was going on, Elliot, who was perched on a windowsill, spoke.

“Some of you might ask why we are gathered here today,” he said in a pretty good imitation of Dr. McKay’s pompous tone.

“What’s going on?” Kate asked. Her stomach sank, as if she were in a plunging elevator. But at the same time, she felt her rage ready to choke her. She didn’t even have a place to sit or put her bag down.

“We’re worried about you,” Bina said. She was the only one there who looked apologetic.

“Katie, look, you’re allowed to go out with him, and you’re even allowed to sleep with him, but you’re not allowed to fall in love with him,” Barbie added.

“What are you talking about?” Kate asked. But of course, she knew. Elliot must have told everyone, and now they were trying to do some kind of . . . intervention, or something, as if she were a drunk who needed to be confronted with her self-destructive behavior.

“Time to go now. Party’s over,” Kate told them, using the phrase Billy did when he was ready to close the bar. She turned into her little hallway to get to the bedroom and away from all of these so-called friends. Unfortunately, Brice was standing there, leaning against the wall.

“Sorry, girlfriend, you have to hear this,” he said, and gently turned her around, marching her into the middle of her living room. Bina got out of the wicker chair, and Brice maneuvered Kate over to it. Bev leaned forward as far as she could given the state of her belly and took Kate’s hand.

“I know how it is, Katie,” she said. “You want a home of your own. You want a wedding and a husband and a baby.”

Kate snatched her hand away. “I have a home,” she said. “It’s right here, and I would like you all to do me a favor and get out of it. Please,” she added so that she didn’t sound quite so rude. After all, they probably meant well.

Elliot came up from behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. His face was beside her own. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think it was really serious,” he said.

“I want my keys back,” Kate told him, and extended her hand. “I mean now.” It was better to lock him out permanently, she thought, than ever to walk into a scene like this again.

“Look, you moved out of the old neighborhood. You might not remember what players in Brooklyn are like, but you’ve wasted enough of your time on jerks. You’re not getting younger this week,” Bunny said. “Or any other week.”

“Yeah. A fling is okay, but once you’re thirty your flings are flung,” Barbie added. “Whaddya think? A blow job’s a commitment?”

“Shut up, Barbie,” Kate told her. “None of this is your business.” She turned and looked around at the room. She couldn’t defend herself with logic. And a part of her knew they were probably right. But that was a part she didn’t want to listen to.

Elliot sighed. “I told you this wouldn’t be easy,” he said to the assembled bunch of gossips, yentas, and morons that up till now Kate had considered her friends. He leaned toward her again. “Kate, I’m not saying you did the wrong thing in turning Michael down.”

“I am,” Bev interrupted. “He was a doctor and a Pisces. Perfect.”

Brice silenced her with a look. “I think what Elliot is trying to say is that you can waste a lot of time with men like Steven and Billy, but you get propositions, not proposals, from them.”

Kate could feel her face getting warm with anger and embarrassment. “We only want what’s best for you,” Elliot said.

“We’re worried about you,” Barbie added. Then she looked down at Kate’s feet. “Where did you get those shoes?” she asked. “Are they Ferragamo?”

“Not now, Barbie,” Brice admonished. “This isn’t
Full Frontal Fashion.
”

“No. It’s
Full Frontal Confrontation,
and it’s over.” Kate took a deep breath. She looked at Bina, who had been the quietest. “How was the bachelor party?” she asked.

“Didn’t you hear?” Bev asked.

“There was a fistfight.”

“You’re kidding?” Brice said. “Why haven’t I heard about this?”

“My Arnie said it was incredible. Max and Jack really went at each other.”

“Yeah, my Johnny said Jack’s black eye probably won’t heal before the wedding. And if Billy hadn’t of broken it up . . .”

Once again Kate felt her stomach lurch, this time over the scene in a Brooklyn bar during a bachelor party. She knew Billy kept a baseball bat beside the cash register, but she wondered if he had been hurt. This, however, was not the time to ask.

“So what happened?” Elliot wanted to know.

“Oh, Max called Jack names and he got mad and took a swing at Max, but then Max got wild and jumped him. Whaddaya expect? They were all drunk.”

Kate stood up. She wanted to call Billy and find out if he was okay. She also needed all of these so-called friends of hers to leave her in peace. But Elliot had other plans. “Kate, you have to promise us all that you’ll break off this thing with Billy,” he said. “I mean, what’s the point? After he dumps you, you don’t want to get proposed to by a stranger.”

“Will you stop that!” Kate told him. “What makes you so sure he’ll dump me? And if you believe that garbage about proposals . . .”

The room filled with half a dozen hushed oohs. “Jesus,” Barbie said. “Do you actually think he’s serious about you?”

“Kate, this is a guy who has made fear of commitment a permanent lifestyle,” Bev said. She stood up with difficulty. She opened her mouth, but before she could continue her rant, a strange look came over her face. “I feel a little twinge.” She put a hand on her belly, and as she did her water broke.

Chapter Forty-three

I
t was the last day of school, and Kate was straightening out her files, packing her two plants, and saying good-bye for the summer to the children who dropped in. Once she was finished, she knew she should go to Bev’s to see her baby. Though she was curious to see it, her resentment of the Bitches still lingered, and to be brutally honest, she was also afraid she’d feel some envy.

Not that she was unhappy. She had the children at the school. Overall, she was very pleased with her work at Andrew. Though she hadn’t made any progress with the Reilly twins, she had convinced their parents to dress them in different clothes. It hadn’t stopped them from continuing to pull the switcheroo, but at least now they had to go into the bathroom or gym and swap their outfits to do it. If there was a darker side to their masquerading, she would have to find it in September. But most of her other work had gone well. Tina Foster was no longer taking dares or launching herself out into space. Though she was still a tomboy and preferred to chase boys than sit with the girls, she didn’t seem at all self-destructive.

As Kate put some papers into her backpack, Jennifer Whalen appeared in the doorway. Jennifer had stopped her exaggerated lying, and Kate smiled at the little girl. “Coming to say good-bye?” she asked. Jennifer nodded. “You know, I’ll see you in September.” Jennifer nodded again and then rushed into the room and hugged Kate.

“Thank you for helping me with my shelf-esteem,” Jennifer said.

Kate looked down at her, suppressing a smile. “You’re very welcome,” she said.

Jennifer nodded wisely and gestured to all the empty shelves in the office. “Do you have shelf-esteem, too?” she asked.

Now Kate allowed herself to smile. “Plenty,” she told the little girl, and Jennifer smiled, too, turned, and skipped out of the room.

“See ya next year,” she called.

Kate had just knelt down to straighten the dollhouse when she felt someone else’s presence behind her. Still on her knees, she turned and was totally surprised to find Billy standing in the doorway. He took a step into the room and closed the door behind him. His face was bruised, with a swollen patch on one cheek and a scratch over his eye. She jumped to her feet. “Are you all right? I kept leaving messages on your machine. Where have you been?” she asked, and moved toward him. He must have been hurt in the imbroglio at Jack’s party, as she had feared. She wanted to hold him and touch his face, but he put up a hand to stop her.