Last Run (7 page)

‘That’s amazing,’ Grace said. ‘I can barely manage to get basic colour on without smudging.’

‘Woody shut in?’ Cathy asked.

Right on cue, the little dog came flying out from the back, leaping up at Cathy in greeting, then turning to check out the visitor.

‘Don’t.’ Kez backed up against the wall, knocking against the small Spanish tile-framed mirror. ‘Please,’ she said sharply, her voice hoarser. ‘I’m not
good with dogs.’

‘It’s OK.’ Cathy lifted the mongrel off the stone floor, held him close, let him lick her face. ‘Woody’s cool,’ she told Kez, ‘and really
gentle.’

‘I’m sure.’ Kez stayed close to the wall. ‘Maybe we should go.’

‘We’re going for a run on the beach,’ Cathy explained to Grace. ‘Thought we’d come by for a quick juice first.’

‘Put Woody in the den,’ Grace told Cathy.

‘No need,’ Kez said. ‘We can just go—’

‘It’s no problem at all.’ Grace felt for her.

They went through to the kitchen, collecting juice and water, taking the drinks out on to the deck.

‘I got bitten as a kid.’ Kez was clearly embarrassed. ‘Badly enough to need stitches and shots. I’ve never been able to get past it.’

‘I don’t blame you,’ Cathy said.

‘It’s very natural,’ Grace said.

‘Doesn’t stop people laughing at me, especially when the dogs are cute.’

‘I wouldn’t laugh,’ Cathy said. Kez smiled at her. ‘No,’ she said.

The connection between them struck Grace quite forcibly.

The beginnings of something
more
than friendship, she felt, at least from Kez’s standpoint; she thought she’d glimpsed a distinct strength of feeling in the young
woman’s interesting eyes.

They had all noticed Cathy’s high excitement last Friday evening when she’d talked about her meeting with the college athlete, and Grace had been aware of a degree of hero-worship in
that excitement, but nothing more. More than that now, she realized as the two young women finished their drinks, then sat with her a while longer, exchanging questions and answers about running
and their respective majors, Kez seeming genuinely interested in Grace’s and Sam’s disparate professions.

‘Isn’t she great?’ Cathy whispered to Grace as they were leaving, Kez ahead of them and out of earshot. ‘Don’t you think?’

Grace looked into Cathy’s blue eyes – so like her own that, together with their similarly straight blonde hair, strangers often took them for biological mother and daughter –
and realized she’d never seen them sparkle that way before. And then, hard on the heels of that thought sprang another: that Cathy, still quite naïve despite all her experiences, seemed
to be in Kez Flanagan’s thrall.

The idea disturbed Grace, and not just, she thought, because she felt it probable that Kez was gay – would she mind, she asked herself sharply, almost accusingly, if Cathy was lesbian or
even bisexual?

So many thoughts in the blink of an eye.

‘She’s very nice,’ she answered.

She waved them off, then closed the door, still feeling troubled.

There had been, it was true, surprisingly few boyfriends in Cathy’s life so far. One spell during which Cathy had come to Grace to share with her the fact that she was dating a guy called
Nick Cohen and had decided to take the pill; but that relationship had ended soon after, and since then men seemed – so far as Grace and Sam knew – to have been a little thin on the
ground.

It had not appeared to have bothered Cathy.

Certainly no indications at any time – Grace reflected on her way back to her office to commence writing up her notes on Gregory Hoffman’s appointment – that Cathy might be
harbouring doubts about her sexual orientation. Though then again, Grace knew better than some the myriad conundrums buried in the human psyche. And in some ways, of course, ceasing to be
Cathy’s therapist and becoming her mother had almost automatically restricted her access to her daughter’s innermost secrets.

There was a possibility, Grace considered, that if Cathy had ever been physically attracted to another woman she might – perhaps keeping faith with her late, devoutly Catholic mother
– have felt uneasy with that. And if Cathy had feared that either coming out or even confiding any confusion might have caused her new family the slightest discomfort – surely not,
Grace hoped – then she might have chosen to suppress the truth altogether, to keep it buried, perhaps even from herself.

Something about Kez Flanagan had touched Grace. The way she had reacted to Woody, the sudden exposing of a fear some might translate as weakness. In a tough-shelled young athlete, that kind of
sensitivity might create insecurities.

Good match for Cathy, then, perhaps.

So long as Kez didn’t hurt her.

Getting way ahead of yourself, Grace.

It was her day for unexpected visitors.

Less than five minutes later, Terri Suarez arrived – so swiftly after the other two had left that Grace wondered for an instant if she might have been waiting for them to go.

‘What a lovely surprise,’ Grace told her. ‘Though you just missed Cathy and her friend. You probably saw them, heading off for a run.’

Terri shook her head. ‘I should have called first, but I was nearby and I wanted to talk to you, if that’s OK.’

‘Of course it is.’ Grace led the way to the kitchen, releasing Woody from the den as they passed, watching Terri enjoying his exuberant greeting. ‘So long as I’m not with
a patient, it’s open house here.’

She asked if Terri wanted to go out back, but the younger woman said she’d be glad to stay inside in the cool, so Grace poured them both some iced tea and they went into the den, made
themselves comfortable in the tranquil room – its walls covered with children’s paintings – that sometimes doubled as her consulting room.

Terri wasted no time.

‘I want to talk about the way Sam feels about me.’

‘In what way?’ Grace hid her dismay, had hoped their South Beach lunch might have eased the situation.

‘Sunday was fine,’ Terri said. ‘Nice food, getting to know each other.’

‘We enjoyed it,’ Grace said.

‘And you were great and kind, and everyone was cool. Sam, too, on the face of it.’

‘Sam tends not to hide his feelings.’ Grace tried not to sound prickly. ‘Especially with family and close friends.’

‘Thanks for that,’ Terri went on frankly. ‘I just feel that he still has reservations about me, or maybe just about Saul and me as a couple.’

‘Sam’s very much a big brother, Terri,’ Grace said. ‘Perhaps even more of a second dad, in some ways, because of the age difference. You’ll have worked all that out
for yourself.’

‘Sure.’

‘He may have had some reservations, but I honestly don’t think he has any more.’ Grace paused. ‘Sam just wants Saul to be happy and safe.’

‘That’s all I want too,’ Terri said.

Grace smiled at her. ‘Terri, I truly think you should stop stressing about what Sam or anyone else thinks, and enjoy your time with Saul.’

‘You don’t get it,’ Terri said. ‘Not really.’

‘Then why don’t you tell me what I’m not getting?’ Grace was gentle. ‘I’d so much like to help if I can.’

Terri got up, walked over to the window, and Grace felt a swift dart of envy looking at the curvy little breasts under the plain white T-shirt, the narrow waist and neat behind, all accentuated
by her tight blue jeans. Grace loved being pregnant but couldn’t quite imagine ever being slim again; she looked forward, once the baby was born, to feeling less clumsy and to seeing –
as pregnant women were always saying – her toes again.

‘I’ve thought about saying to hell with what Saul’s family thinks about me.’ Terri tossed her dark hair a little. ‘I know my own worth, I know Saul loves me and
that’s what matters most.’ She shook her head. ‘Except it’s not the only thing, is it, when you really care about someone?’

Grace smiled again. ‘Not always.’

‘I’ve never met anyone like him before.’ Terri sat down again. ‘He’s so gentle and kind, but he still manages to have this real lust for living, you
know?’

‘Like his dad,’ Grace said.

‘I’m not sure his dad doesn’t have the same kind of doubts about me,’ Terri said. ‘Saul says he doesn’t, that I’m imagining problems,
but—’

‘Don’t you trust Saul?’ Grace asked.

‘Of course I do.’

‘Then why not believe him?’

‘You’re telling me I’m worrying unnecessarily, too.’

‘Yes,’ Grace said. ‘I think I am.’

She was not at all certain, when Terri left a few minutes later, that she had managed to convince her of that.

‘I think this is where the janitor was killed.’

They had covered less than a mile, running south along the beach, were just approaching North Shore Open Space Park, when Cathy said that to Kez. Then, less than a second later, she let out a
cry of pain and jolted to a halt, sending up a cloud of sand.

‘Damn,’ she said. ‘My ankle.’

Kez came quickly to her side. ‘Bad?’

‘Don’t think so,’ Cathy said, wincing. ‘I just turned it a little.’

‘Sit down.’ Kez nodded towards an Australian pine. ‘Let me help you.’

Cathy shook her head. ‘I can walk.’ She tested her left ankle. ‘Just don’t think I should run on it yet. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Kez said. ‘We should get some ice on it.’

They got a makeshift ice pack and some mineral water at the 81st Street Café on Collins Avenue opposite the park gate.

‘I didn’t realize your dad was working on the janitor case,’ Kez said after she’d organized another chair for Cathy to rest her foot on.

Cathy nodded. ‘Working all hours.’

‘No suspects yet?’

‘I’d be the last to know,’ Cathy told her. ‘Sam hardly talks about work at home, and never in front of me – ’ her smile was self-conscious – ‘in
case it messes with my head.’

‘Your head,’ Kez remarked, ‘seems pretty well screwed on to me.’ She paused. ‘Though I guess I can understand why your folks might prefer to keep off that kind of
subject.’

Cathy was silent for a moment. ‘I presume you know about my history.’

‘Some,’ Kez replied.

‘The edited highlights.’ Cathy was wry. ‘Freak show, huh?’

‘Sad, cruel show,’ Kez said.

Cathy saw sympathy in her face and something more besides and, not being quite certain what that was, she averted her eyes and looked down at her ankle.

‘Pain?’ Kez asked.

Cathy shook her head. ‘It’s feeling better.’

‘Take care of it,’ Kez said.

‘I will.’

Kez took a minute, then said: ‘I’ve thought about what you must have gone through back then, but it’s hard to imagine. Just losing my own dad messed with my head for the
longest time, and that was natural causes, or kind of.’

‘Kind of?’ Cathy felt a touch of guilt. ‘Sorry, it’s personal.’

‘I raised it,’ Kez said. ‘And yes, it is very personal, but I don’t think I’d mind sharing it with you – which is interesting, because I’ve never shared
it with anyone else before.’

Cathy was silent.

‘I loved my dad a lot, and I always knew he was pretty crazy about me.’ Kez took a breath. ‘I thought he felt that way about my mom, too.’ Her mouth compressed for an
instant. ‘But when it came right down to it, Joey Flanagan was no better than a lot of men.’

She was looking directly at Cathy as she spoke, but a veil of something, perhaps of self-protection, had slipped down over her eyes, and Cathy could not tell if it was pain or toughness that lay
behind.

‘Fact was,’ Kez continued, ‘he had a massive heart attack in the middle of screwing Mrs Jerszinsky, our next-door neighbour, while my mother was out shopping and I was watching
them through the keyhole of my parents’ bedroom door.’

‘Wow,’ Cathy said.

‘Not in the same league as your traumas,’ Kez said. ‘Like comparing a little jolt with an earthquake, I guess, but I was seven years old and like I said, it did a good job of
messing with my head.’

‘I can imagine. How come—?’ Cathy stopped.

‘How come I was watching?’ Kez said. ‘It was a weekend, and my dad thought I was at a friend’s house across the street, but we had a disagreement and I came back early,
heard some weird sounds and took a look.’

‘And your dad—’

‘I don’t like thinking about that,’ Kez said quickly.

‘Sure,’ Cathy said. ‘I can understand that.’

‘I guess you can.’ Kez shrugged. ‘I’ve often wondered – even if our sexual identity does come pre-packaged with our genes – if that afternoon didn’t
help put me off men.’

Cathy had heard it rumoured on the Trent grapevine that Kez was gay, but she didn’t think it had really occurred to her until this instant that Kez might possibly be attracted to her.

Of course she wasn’t, she told herself swiftly, why should she be? There certainly hadn’t been too many guys lusting after her over the years – though then again, Nick aside,
she hadn’t particularly wanted them either.

Slow down.

That wasn’t the point anyway, was not what was really startling her. What was throwing Cathy for a loop right now was her own reaction.

Excitement.

‘You OK?’

Kez’s voice sliced through the mess of Cathy’s thoughts, reminded her that the only reason they were here talking was that she had turned her ankle during a run, and Kez was just
being kind to her.

‘Fine,’ she said quickly, taking off the ice pack and lowering her foot to the floor.

It wasn’t as if Kez Flanagan was some shrinking violet, shy about coming to the point. She was an independent woman with her own apartment in Coconut Grove; a talented runner with a string
of wins under her belt who had just simply and casually confirmed her sexuality while expressing no interest in Cathy’s preferences.

‘Ready to try walking out of here?’ Kez asked.

‘Sure.’ Cathy stood up and tried out the foot.

‘How does it feel?’

Kindness, nothing more.

‘Good.’ Cathy took a step. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘You should still ice it again when you get home, and elevate it. And no running for the rest of the week, OK?’

Definitely kindness.

Though the hazel eyes were still steady on her face, unwavering.