Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (37 page)

A moment later, Bruce emerged, his face as dark as a
thundercloud, his hair and shirt equally disheveled. “This just isn’t my
night.”

Michelle’s voice cut through the clamor. “It’s Twister time!”

Simon turned and earnestly addressed Michelle with hands
on her shoulders. “Sorry. Twister is not in the stars tonight. Please take your
children home.”

Everyone bid Casey and Michelle a good night and a Merry
Christmas, and they bustled out the door bundling their sleeping children,
gifts and bags of leftover food. They were soon followed, after swift kisses
and hugs good night, even for Simon, Kate noted with interest, by Alexa, who
had offered Bertie a ride. “Merry Christmas, Katie, love,” she said. Shortly
afterwards the lonely and downtrodden Bruce left.

“She didn’t even ask if I needed a ride,” Kate said as
the door closed behind them.

“She’s an astute woman,” smiled Simon.

“Hmph.”

Lily stood on the front porch in her long quilted parka,
stomping booted feet. “Let’s go-oo, Will.”

Simon gripped his brother’s hand. “Thanks for your help
tonight, bud.”

Will turned toward his brother, looking up and shaking
his head. “I was such a jerk. I was sure you’d get your ass kicked again.” Kate
frowned, confused, scanning Simon’s face for clues. Simon smiled and hugged him
roughly, thumping his back. “Thanks. I might yet.”

Will pulled away, grinning and shaking his head, darting
a glance in Kate’s direction and lowering his voice. “I’m envious. Even Mom
never looked at me like that.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re the ugly one,” Simon teased.
“G’night.”

Will shuddered theatrically and led Lily out into the
hush of thickly falling snow. “Huh. I hope you know what you’re doing, bro.”

They
were alone at last. Kate waited on the sofa, gazing at the empty disordered
room, pretending she hadn’t overheard Simon’s touching, if confusing, exchange
with his brother. Despite Michelle’s efforts to tidy up, the living room looked
like a bomb went off. There were dirty mugs and glasses here and there, bunched
up giftwrap, sofa cushions and throws in disarray. The almost barren, soiled
dining table sat in the background awaiting another opportunity to stage a
laughing crowd. Kate could almost hear the echo of laughter and loving voices,
and felt a warm sense of completion and contentment. Closing the door, Simon
padded silently to the living room and leaned on the doorframe.

“Well, we both survived,” he said.

“I can’t believe you put yourself through that every
year.”

His smile was tentative. “They’re not that bad, are
they?”

Kate grimaced. “That’s not what I meant. They’re all
lovely. Colourful, but lovely. I meant the work, the preparation and cooking.
It was amazing.”

“Thanks. I like to do it for them. I realize they’re a
tad eccentric. But they’re my orphans and I take care of them.”

“Your
orphans
?”

He snorted. “It started years ago. First time Mom and Dad
went on a trip, I felt I had to do something for Will. And Bertie. After her
husband died, she had no one. Bruce, too, is kind of uncomfortable with his
family, so the holidays are hard. Then I met Casey through work. And he and
Michelle are so far from their families. It just…” his shoulder jerked up,
“…evolved.”

“And now you’ve added me and Alexa to your list of
orphans?”

“I was thinking maybe adoption in your case.” His eyes
creased, twinkling, and Kate felt a shiver of heat and anticipation. “But first
I have to tuck this girl in.” He turned to the sleeping bundle under the tree
and peeled away the blanket to reveal the adorable Madison, her round cheeks
flushed under a disheveled brown mop.

“It's a miracle she slept through it all.”

He chuckled and knelt to gently lift her limp form.
Gazing at her sweet face, he bent to brush his lips across her silky pink
cheek, and his intense love for her was palpable. He stopped and peeked at Kate
over his shoulder. “Come with me?”

Kate rose and followed him up the stairs and into
Maddie’s room. He set Maddie on her bed and, with the expected awkwardness, patiently
extracted her from her wrinkled party dress and tangled tights. She remained as
limp as a rag doll while he wrestled her limbs into her nightgown and pulled
the blankets up around her shoulders. She’d worn herself out; she didn’t move a
muscle. He bent to kiss her forehead and stood. “She’ll be up early. I have to
be ready.”

In response to Kate’s questioning look, he beckoned with
one finger and led her into the darkened hallway, where he slid opened a closet
door and pulled down a large lumpy bag from a high shelf.

Back downstairs, Simon added several brightly wrapped
packages to those already arranged under the tree. “She knows some of the gifts
are from me, but there has to be a surprise element or it spoils the Santa
logic,” he explained.

Kate smiled in understanding, then brightened. “I almost
forgot. I have gifts for you and Maddie.” She looked around. “Where did I put
my bag?”

“Is that yours in the front hall?”

She retrieved it and set it down, opening it and
rummaging until she extracted two parcels, both wrapped in elegant silvery blue
paper with matching ribbon the same shade as her sweater. Her eyes shied away
from the small pouch bearing her toothbrush and a change of clothes, her
stomach doing a little gymnastic flip as she closed the flap on her bag. She
set the gifts under the tree, glancing over her shoulder to beam at him.

He stood looking her up and down, his admiration evident.
It was mutual. She flushed hotly, wondering if he might be thinking similar
thoughts to hers.

He held her eyes and moved silently toward her, taking
both her hands in his to lift her up, and bent toward her. He held back
hesitantly. Kate had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, and she did
so, gazing thoughtfully into his eyes, the barest hint of a welcoming smile
touching her lips. It was evidently enough encouragement for him. He kissed her
once, tentatively, and pulled away, still searching her eyes. For what? He
kissed her again, more quickly and said, “Just one more thing.”

She watched him wordlessly as he fished two stockings
from his bag, hung them from hooks on the mantelpiece, then proceeded to fill
them with small packages, mandarin oranges and chocolate. He turned toward her,
hesitant, and lifted a beautiful quilted stocking embroidered with an angel and
silver stars on a navy blue sky. “I have a spare. Shall I hang it for you? Or
would you prefer a cold, lonely taxi ride home?” He tried to make light of it,
pouting in a hammy way, though she knew he was perfectly serious.

Well. This was it. Decision time.

Searching her eyes again, he moved towards her, holding
her arms in his hands. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is all I want for
Christmas. Just you.” He stroked her cashmere sweater, running one fingertip
gently along the scooping neckline next to her skin, over the tops her breasts.
He drew in a ragged breath. His voice sounded strained. “Make me even happier.
Let me wake up tomorrow with you in my arms. Please.”

Kate’s breath left her, her throat constricting. “I… I’d
like to say yes, Simon. I would… ” She hesitated, feeling the too-familiar
crawling, fearful sensation that had preceded her anxiety attacks of late.
Consciously distancing herself from the anxiety, she observed it, named it,
knowing that she had to move past the irrational fear. She turned away, out of
his embrace, concentrating on her breathing, and reached a hand to grasp her
knot pendant, silently asking for strength from whatever force in the universe
meted out her fate. At the same time she knew, it was up to her.

Stepping up behind her, he said, “Is it my imagination
that you’ve had a change of heart?” He turned her toward him again, dropping
his voice. “I’ve fallen in love with you Kate, all over again. Tell me I’m not
crazy to think you might love me too.”

She kept her gaze cast down, too afraid to meet the
earnest expression in his eyes. She wanted him. She knew what she needed to do.
She only needed to give herself permission to feel the love she had for him,
and put her fears aside. Simon lifted her chin gently with his fingertips.

“Tell me, Kate. I won’t hurt you. I promise. But don’t be
afraid of my reaction, either. I know Will thinks I’m made of glass. Whatever
you have to say, I can take it. Tell me the truth.”

Kate peered uneasily at his creased brow, aware that his
eyes glistened with fear of his own, and wondered. He didn’t deserve this.
After all he’d been through, Simon should never have to doubt that he was
loved.

“Have I got it all wrong?”

“No. Simon, I…” Her voice was a whisper, and she dug down
deep for the courage she needed to face her own truth, and to open her heart to
this man, who meant everything to her.

“Tell me what it is? What’s the matter? Is it a fear of
commitment?” His frustration was unmistakable. His voice dropped. “Is it
Maddie? Are you worried about… having to step into a mother’s role?” Simon
released her and stood with his hands out, palms up, beseeching. “Tell me.”

Kate shook her head emphatically. “No! Absolutely not.
Put that thought out of your head.” She swallowed, gathering her thoughts. “I
have… I suppose you’ve noticed how I’ve been.” She sighed heavily, on a
frustrated grunt. Where to begin? “When I saw you again, something happened to
me. A kind of… relapse.”

“Saw
me
?”
Disbelief ratcheted Simon’s voice up a notch. Without a word, he wrapped his
arms around her and pulled her head against his chest, stroking her hair and
back. He gently pushed her away and asked his question again, this time with
only his pleading eyes, waiting patiently, trusting her to explain if she
could.

She could. She must. Kate breathed a deep and quivering
sigh and raised her eyes to his. She turned inward, searching for the words to
explain. “There is… a part of me that has never stopped loving you. Even when
you didn’t love me. Even when you weren’t there, I obsessed over you. And I had
to go on with my life.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She shook her head for a
moment, opened them and continued with a quavering voice, pushing the words
past the blockage in her throat. “I had to make sense of that. Why couldn’t I
function? Eventually, with help, loads of help, I came to understand that my
love for you was a kind of unhealthy attachment that arose from a void inside
of me. I had no self-love, no sense of self worth. I was so ruined by what
happened to me, by… by what I finally
realized
happened to me…”

“Wait. You’re losing me. I still don’t understand what
you’re talking about.”

Of course not. Kate stopped speaking and closed her eyes,
breathing slowly and deeply for a long time, reaching for the strength to continue.

“How could you love me and still be afraid?” Simon asked.
“Love is a wonderful thing. A joyous feeling.” She could hear his confusion and
hurt, and see a brooding darkness descend over his face. “You know you can
trust me, Kate. Please explain. Tell me everything so we don’t have painful
secrets between us. I want to really know you.”

Kate slowly raised her eyes to his, and they came into
focus, piercing and penetrating. “I do
love
you, and I trust you. But I don’t trust… myself?”

“
You
don’t
sound certain of that.” He frowned, clearly perplexed.

“I know. I’ve been trying, but I still can’t find the
words to express this fear,” she clenched a fist and pressed it into her
middle. “This feeling inside me that says, I can’t have this. I don’t deserve this
kind of, of… happiness. Fulfillment. Security?” She shrugged.

“Don’t deserve…? Why?”

Kate pushed her hair back from her face, tucked it behind
her ear. “That’s not even right.” She tried to calm her thoughts, and sink down
deep, quiet the noise and wait for the truth, the words she needed, to surface.
Because she needed them. Now. This was her moment of truth. It was now or
never, and Kate was not prepared to let this moment pass. She knew she stood on
a precipice, her future lay in her own grasp. It was time to let go of the
past, and embrace a future that was, unbelievably, a dream come true. For
better or worse.

Even if she and Simon didn’t work out, in the long term_–
because who really knew what the future held? She deserved to give it a chance.
To give them a chance. It’s what he wanted. And it was what she wanted, too, in
her heart of hearts. Kate was not a bad person. She had not made such terrible
mistakes. And limiting her whole life because of one unfortunate incident,
punishing herself, and Simon too, because of something so far in the past, out
of their control, was foolish.

She would never have the closure and redemption that
confronting or punishing her attacker might provide. If indeed that wasn’t a
myth. But she refused to continue to punish Simon for the actions of another.
Or to punish herself.

If in the end they moved on, well so what? That would be
a decision born of the true circumstances of the life she was living now. She’d
survive. She’d be okay.

How could it be worse than what she’d carried around for
years? An unrequited compulsive love for a man that didn't even exist outside
of her imagination. Kate realized she had obsessed over an ideal, a hollow man,
not a real man. A crutch to lean on, something to buttress the dark abandoned
mine shafts of her heart all these years, something to keep real love at arms
length.

Kate had been lonely. So lonely. She had always been
waiting for him. Not to rescue her, but to fill that space that only he could
fill. Her man with heart, even though she knew that what she had been missing
was a part of herself. Even so, she had known a profound connection once and,
having tasted it, would never be satisfied with anything less.

 Simon stood before her, his face aglow with
compassion. She saw his warmth and solidity, his patience and yearning. She
would give Simon her love, with no strings attached. She could not deny him or
herself. But first, she owed him an explanation.

“I do love you, Simon, I do.” She caressed his cheek with
one hand. “But there’s something I have to tell you, before… before…” She
shrugged, and turned away to stare out the picture window at the still night.

No wind disturbed the lush snowflakes on their slumbering
descent. Muted streetlights, ringed by diffuse halos. Coloured lights trimming
neighboring houses muffled now under a thick blanket of fallen snow. In the
pool of ice blue light from a streetlight, something shiny, red and sharp
gleamed in the neighbour’s front yard, like a blade, cutting the surface. A
forgotten bicycle perhaps. She smiled.

“The moon on
the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the luster of mid-day to objects below
.”
Soon, the falling snow would completely obscure the red bicycle, until only a
soft, blurred outline could be detected, the gash healed over, only a scar.

She turned to Simon, reconciled to tell him everything.

“I didn’t want you in my life. I was grieving–”

He was clearly puzzled. “In October?”

She smiled, shook her head, and continued. “It wasn’t me
that crashed into
your
dorm, drunk as a sailor at three in the morning, banging on the door and
begging to be let in.” She could remember the upheaval like an earthquake. He
had turned her world upside down then too.

“Are we talking about college?” he looked doubtful,
embarrassed and confused.