Authors: Ellen James
She straightened, rubbing her temples. This feeling went too deep, touching some place inside her that she'd never known existed before. And then to suffer the coldness, the hurt when he withdrew his arms, to wonder about the woman he'd be seeing tonight…
She scrambled to her feet. Things had gone too far, but it still wasn't too late to save herself, to keep herself emotionally intact. She was convinced of that. She'd always been in control of her own life, and that wasn't about to change. She wouldn't let it. Kate slammed down the lid of the chest, but then lifted it up again to tuck in a wayward corner of the burgundy gown. The poor thing shouldn't suffer just because of Steven Reid.
Later that afternoon Kate paid an unexpected visit to her mother, and that alone was a measure of how badly she'd been shaken. It was never easy to return to the house she'd grown up in, to reenter a world she had escaped at eighteen. She went there now without quite knowing what she expected to gain, just knowing that she had to go.
She drove slowly, however, wanting to prolong her enjoyment of the beauty around her. For Kate, San Francisco had always been a city of color. It wasn't just the vivid blue of the sky and the bay. It was the exuberance of all those Victorian houses, flaunting their bright new coats of paint: green, red, purple, orange, yellow. Gables, columns and trim had colors all their own, decorating the houses like extra swirls of frosting on a cake.
But there was at least one street in town where no one had caught the spirit of color. Kate turned onto it and pulled up in front of one of the small, dreary houses. Here and there an individual touch defied the uniform drabness of the street: a scraggly bush trimmed into pompons, a window box of geraniums, a door painted apple green. But the house where Kate's mother still lived exhibited no such rebellion. The outside walls were a dingy and faded tan. How Kate had always hated them! With a sigh she climbed out of the Bug. She brought along the silk roses she'd managed to buy after dipping into just a bit of her rent money. She could never come here without a gift of something beautiful.
The door flew open at her knock, and she was swept up into a flurry of kittens, fuzzy slippers and billows of material in an alarming pattern of muddy red poppies. Her mother's arms embraced her, silk flowers and all.
"Oh, they're lovely, Katie. You always bring me the loveliest things. I'm so happy to see you, dear. Come along!" Lorna Melrose sped down the hall, her slippers moving at a good clip. One kitten was hooked under her arm, two others scurried at her heels. How many more might be hiding in the poppy housecoat that enveloped Lorna's plump figure? Kate smiled, remembering how as a child she had cried into and been comforted by her mother's too-big housecoats. Mrs. Melrose had never complained when her children clutched at her with sticky hands and teary faces. She was the same way with her many grandchildren now. Kate might have wished to change a lot of things about her mother, but never, never those all-comforting housecoats.
"I know just the thing for these roses. Yes, yes, let me see…" Lorna popped into a closet overflowing with clothes, an old badminton set and several umbrellas. "Dear me, help me out, Katie." Kate found herself balancing two kittens in her arms, as well as the flowers. A moment later her mother emerged triumphantly clutching a box overflowing with tissue paper. Her cheeks were pink under the flyaway gray hair. "The cut-glass vase you gave me. It'll be perfect."
"Oh, Mother!" Kate exclaimed, a kitten ear tickling her nose. "Do you mean it's been in the box all this time? I gave it to you so you could enjoy it."
"But I
have
enjoyed it, dear. Knowing it's safe here, in all its loveliness. And now you've brought roses that will always be in bloom. I knew I was saving this for just the right moment. Go ahead, dear, arrange the flowers. I've always loved to watch you with them, from the time you were a little girl."
Kate managed to deposit the kittens on the floor. She began filling the vase, automatically placing the flowers to the best effect. She had never been able to explain to her mother that beauty was not something to be hoarded. It was to be savored every moment, until your whole life was filled with it. If a vase broke, then you bought another one that was even prettier.
"Why, that's lovely, Katie. Just lovely. You have the touch." Lorna Melrose plunked two cups of peppermint tea down on the torn oilcloth that covered the table. "Sit down, sit down. You're always in such a rush. That's better." She bustled around the table. "Do you remember how you loved the flower vendors as a child? We used to walk along the street, and I'd tell you stories about the roses and mums and gladiolas."
Kate grinned. "The one I liked the best was about the white rose, and all the quests it went on trying to find colors so that it would be as beautiful as the red rose. Oh, Mother, you tell the most wonderful stories! When are you going to start writing some of them down?"
"I'm thinking about it, I really am. All the pictures in my mind, years and years of them. I've just never had the time to put them down on paper." Lorna sent the cracked sugar bowl sailing down the table toward her daughter. "What a life we had, your father and I! But we pulled through it together, didn't we?"
Kate didn't answer. She took a spoonful of sugar and dumped it into her cup. Her father had been a dour man, difficult to please. But her mother had never stopped trying, fluttering around him anxiously and beaming whenever he actually nodded his approval.
"What about that easel I bought for you?" Kate said at last. "You have the time now for your pictures and stories."
"With your sister Justine and the three children coming for dinner tonight? I haven't any time at all! But why don't you join us, Katie?"
"Maybe another time. Just do some sketches, why don't you? Just something to get started."
"Of course, dear. You know I've always wanted to paint. It was my big dream."
"Yes," Kate said softly. "That's what you always told me." She stood up and moved restlessly around the room. Her father had never wanted his wife to study art. He'd said it was a waste of time. He had said the same thing to Kate when she announced her dream of art school. Unlike her mother, she hadn't listened. She had defied him and followed her dream.
Now she frowned at the spot on the wall where her brother Benjamin had tried to glue a chair when he was nine.
"Mother, why don't you let me redo this house for you? It could be absolutely stunning. This place has good lines."
"And wouldn't I be proud! My house decorated by the best designer in California. Yes, dear, someday when we both have the time." Lorna settled into a chair for a moment, two kittens attacking each other in her lap. Kate eyed the one with black boots and a black tail.
"Aren't there more of them than the last time I was here?" she murmured.
"Goodness, do you really think so?" Lorna peered down at the floor and wiggled her slippers. They were pounced on by a tiger-striped kitten.
Kate took another turn around the room. These days she felt an overpowering restlessness whether she sat or stood.
"What's the matter, Katie?" Mrs. Melrose prodded. "You're different somehow today. Is it a man?"
"Good grief, Mother! Why on earth would you say something like that?"
"Lucky guess. What's his name?"
"That's ridiculous. There
is
no man," Kate lied desperately.
"Someday you'll understand, my dear. A woman just isn't complete without that one certain man."
"Mother!"
"Just as a man isn't complete until he finds the woman meant for
him
. Look at your father and me. He may be gone, the dear man, but what we had is still here. It's still alive in all of us."
Kate stopped pacing. She clenched her hands, wanting to protest. But she had long since learned that her mother would never, ever allow anyone to speak against her husband. His memory was sacred.
Kate went over and kissed Lorna's cheek. The skin was still fresh and youthful under the untidy gray hair, and smelled comfortingly of primrose soap.
"I really must run, Mother. Say hello to Justine and the kids for me."
"Very well, but come back soon, Katie. You know I always love to see you. And bring your young man along."
"Mother, there is no young man!"
"Whatever you say, dear, but I'd still like to meet him."
Kate left the house, shaking her head. At least now she knew why she'd come here today. It wasn't just for maternal comfort. She'd needed to remind herself what could happen when a woman gave up her independence for a man. Her mother had given up everything from the very beginning, just for the chance of winning and keeping one man. Kate couldn't allow that to happen to herself. She'd fought too hard to escape her parents' home and what it meant. She wouldn't let any man take charge of her happiness, her life. Especially not Steven Reid.
"That's right, Steven," she declared, climbing back into her Bug and accelerating forcefully. "Especially not you."
Kate tried to be casual, flipping through magazines in the reception area of Steven's office. She'd spent the rest of the weekend searching for a way out of her financial bind, only to return again and again to the same inevitable solution. This time she had been the one to arrange an appointment with Steven.
Now Mrs. Adler looked up from her typewriter to give an encouraging smile. Kate wondered if the businesslike secretary gave that smile to everyone who waited out here, or merely to those who seemed most in need of fortitude. The prospect of venturing into Steven's office was certainly daunting.
Kate set the magazine down, crossed her legs and then uncrossed them. Her dress of turquoise blue settled in soft folds about her, the color giving her confidence. She glanced around. The walls were painted stark white—of course—and the carpet was a dull gray. Only a few pictures adorned the room: nondescript scenes in muted shades. Even Mrs. Adler was dressed in a subdued gray suit, her brown hair drawn tightly back. Kate shifted in her hard, straight-backed chair, only to receive another smile from Mrs. Adler. Goodness, this was worse than waiting to see the dentist.
Mrs. Adler's telephone buzzed once and she answered it instantly. "Yes, Mr. Reid?… Of course, Mr. Reid." She replaced the receiver gingerly, then slid out of her chair. "Mr. Reid will see you now," she said in a hushed tone. She tiptoed down the hall, leading Kate to the inner sanctum.
Kate lifted her head and sailed into the office straight past Mrs. Adler's horrified gaze.
"Good morning, Steven," she said cheerily. "Wonderful weather, don't you think? Of course, you can't see a bit of it in this gloom. There…that's better." Kate yanked on the blinds, sending a
dazzle
of sunlight into the room. Mrs. Adler choked.
"Oh, Mr. Reid…" she sputtered.
"It's perfectly all right, Mrs. Adler," Steven said dryly. "Ms Melrose has a way of taking over a room."
His secretary hesitated but finally retreated, the door closing slowly behind her.
Steven was standing with his elbows propped on the back of a big, ugly leather chair. But that didn't stop him from looking fresh and vibrant, as if he'd carried a brisk ocean breeze right into this dreary office. Kate imagined him at the helm of an old sailing ship, a rakish sea captain…