The Agreement (25 page)

"Dawn, I'm pleading with you – don't
do this! At least meet with him and talk to him yourself."

"So he can try to smooth-talk me? No way. I
saw everything I needed with that agreement. Send him a text. Email him –
I don't care what. I'm doing this as someone who loves you."

I sat with my eyes closed, fighting my emotions.
Dawn's expression was intense, her mouth determined.

If I didn't break it off with Drake, she'd call
my father. Who knew what my father would do. He could get Drake in a
lot
of trouble…

I sat at my computer on the desk against the
wall and composed the email, tears in my eyes.

From:                      
McDermott, Katherine M. 

Sent:                        
November 12, 5:31 PM

To:                           
Morgan, D. L.

Subject:                  
Re: Your Submission

Drake, I read your agreement, but I'm afraid I just can't go
through with this. I made a mistake and I'm going to just put this behind me.
I'm sorry but this isn't going to work between us after all.

Please don't come over or contact me again.

Goodbye.

Kate

I stared at the send button. Dawn leaned closer
and read over my shoulder.

"Send it now," she said.

I craned my neck and glared at her, angry that
she was forcing me, but what could I do? If I didn't send it, she'd get Drake
in trouble with my father. Drake said himself he wouldn’t want my father to
know.

"I'll send it," I said, struggling not
to cry, "but then I want you to
go
."

"What? Why?"

"You're blackmailing me, forcing me to do
this. It's none of your business or my father's business what I do or what
Drake does. So you can leave, and don't bother to call me either."

"Kate, he's got you all confused.
I'm
your friend," she said, jamming her thumb into her chest. "
I'm
looking out for your best interest. He's only out to get his rocks off."

"You can leave
now
."

"I'm not leaving until I see you hit
send."

I hesitated, wiping my eyes.

"
Do
it."

I sent the email. "There, I did it. Now,
go!" I said, shouting at her.

She stepped back from me, frowning. "You're
crazy. He's got you hypnotized or something, like a cult. If I hear you've been
with him, I'll call your father."

"Just
leave
."

She did, collecting her coat and bag, then going
to the door. She took a look back at me from the open door and shook her head
before pulling the door closed behind her.

I stared at the computer screen, at my inbox,
wondering whether he'd reply and if he did, what he'd write. It was just before
dinner and he'd probably be in the O.R. until seven and then he had his jam
session. He might get the email in between, which could mean any time between
then and eight.

I sat with my head in my hands, waiting. I
couldn't drink my tea, for my hands shook and my stomach felt sick. After about
half an hour without any reply, I got up and went to the kitchen, washing
dishes to keep myself occupied. I got out a bucket and filled it with hot soapy
water and scrubbed the floors in the kitchen on my knees with a scrub brush.
Then I cleaned the oven and took some Windex and paper towels and cleaned the
windows.

I checked my email to find one from Drake, which
arrived just a moment earlier.

From:                       
Morgan, D. L. 

Sent:                         
November 12, 6:46 PM

To:                            
McDermott, Katherine M.

Subject:                    
RE: Your Submission

I'll be right over.

I chewed a nail and debated what to say in
response. Finally, I replied.

To:                            
Morgan, D. L.

Sent:                         
November 12, 6:48 PM

From:                       
McDermott, Katherine M. 

Subject:                    
Re: Your Submission

No, please don't. I don’t want to see you ever
again.

There was no response. I wrung my hands. He called
my cell, again and again.

Finally, I had to block his calls, my hands
shaking. I deleted his voice messages without listening. But I saw his texts.

Kate, what happened
between last night and lunch?

Tell me.

 Let me talk to
you. Please…

I want you.

Oh,
God
…

I debated whether to reply. If I did, it would
only encourage him, but I felt bad just cutting him off like that.

This is just the way it has to be for your own
good. Please stop calling and texting me. It won’t do any good.

He responded immediately.

For my own good? What
does that mean?

Kate, don't do this…

 
I put my phone away.

I sat in my quiet apartment, my phone shut off
completely and sitting on the coffee table. At any moment, he could knock on my
door, so I decided to leave. I picked up the cell and ignored the message
notification indicating I had five messages waiting to be read.

Five?

He was persistent. I ached to read them, but I
knew if I did, I'd crumble. Instead, I called my father.

On the third ring, he answered, his voice
sounding distracted, but still pleased.

"Hey, sweetheart, to what do I owe this
pleasure?"

"You're at home?"

"Yes, I'm on leave so I can plan for the
election. What's up? Is everything OK?"

I chewed my nail, wondering what to say.
"Can I come and stay there for a few days?"

There was a silence on the line as if he was
processing what I said. When he spoke, he sounded more engaged, his voice low
and soft.

"Of course, Katie. What's the matter?"

He called me
Katie
. He only called me
that when I was a child and then when I was sick after Africa. I knew then he
was worried, wondering if I was having a relapse. "I just need to get away
for a while."

"Do you want me to send a car?"

I sighed. "No," I said, glancing
around my apartment. "I'll find my way over. I could use some air so maybe
I'll walk."

"It's a long hike and it's dark."

"I need to think."

"Your bedroom is always waiting for you.
We'll hold dinner until you get here."

"Go ahead and eat, Daddy. I've had
something."

"See you in a bit."

CHAPTER TWELVE

I made the trek to my dad's apartment from mine,
walking south and then east beside Central Park and then south again to his
apartment building. This time, I went in the front entrance, carrying my
backpack filled with my MacBook and clothes, makeup and a few personal items. I
took the small elevator up to his suite and used my key to enter the front
door.

The living room was empty. Elaine was nowhere to
be seen, so after I took off my coat and placed my backpack in my old bedroom,
I went to the study. My father was sitting at his huge desk, on the phone as
usual. He saw me and waved me over while he kept talking. I went to him and
waited.

"Yes, certainly, I agree," he said,
turning his cheek for me to kiss. I bent down to kiss him. "That's the
tack we'll take."

He waved at me to sit on the chair across from
him. I did, staring at the pictures on the wall from my trip to Africa. He
seemed as if he were trying to end the conversation with whoever was on the
other line and finally, said goodbye. He put the phone down and made a face at
me, rolling his eyes.

"Long-winded sonofabitch. Sorry, dear. I
had to finish that call."

"That's all right."

He stood and came around his desk, leaning
against it, directly in front of me, his eyes intense and focused on me, his
half-eye glasses in his hand.

"So tell me why you needed to get away from
it all. Does this involve Drake in some way?"

I nodded and my throat closed up a bit as
emotion filled me. I covered my mouth for a moment, unable to speak.

"Now, you see, I
thought
things were
going well for you two," he said, shaking his head. "You seemed
really intense at the concert. What happened? Lover's quarrel?"

"Something like that," I said, getting
hold of myself, surprised that my father thought we were lovers.

"Tell your old man what happened. I know
Drake is a very eligible bachelor, but you're a very lovely young woman,
accomplished and intelligent. Did he want to move the relationship forward too
fast? Is he getting too serious?"

"
No
, Daddy, nothing like that. It's
just we're not really compatible, I guess."

He frowned. "Here I thought the two of you
were so well-matched."

"Why did you think that?"

He shrugged, pursed his lips. "You're both
attractive, intelligent, civic-minded. You both
love
music. You both
share Africa."

"He's a Republican," I said, trying to
come up with some reason.

He laughed. "I know, and you don't know how
surprised I was to find out. His old man was a flaming socialist, but I guess
kids have a tendency to go the opposite way from their parents. You know, in
rebellion..." He shook his head, smiling. "What an idealistic fool
Liam was, but I loved the crazy bastard anyway. He was a heroic sonofabitch. I
don't know how many of us he saved." He shrugged, his hands clasped.
"So you're not on the same political page. Liam and I were best friends
over in 'Nam. Stranger things have happened before between political opposites.
In fact, sometimes, they make the best matches. Opposites attract, you know
.
Yin/yang
…"

Yin/Yang?
The Drill Sergeant talking Tao? My father had
never talked to me like this. I never heard him describe me before.

"Yin/Yang?" I said, wanting to probe
him a bit, since he seemed so talkative.

"Yes, you know.
Light/dark. Positive/negative. Active/passive. Male/female.  It's what
makes the world go round," he said, winking at me.

"Daddy, I've never heard you talk like
this. Is this Elaine's influence on you?"

"Good Lord, no. I'm not a spring chicken,
Katherine. I've been around the block a few times. Why, once upon a time, I too
was a young man out pitching woo." He grinned.

"Pitching
woo
," I said and
smiled. I exhaled, my cheeks a bit heated at what he'd said. "Things just
can't work out between us."

"I thought you two were so right for each
other," he said. "That's why I invited him to the concert. Why, I've
been told by women who know about these things that he's very attractive."
He wagged his eyebrows at me and smiled. "I could tell he was attracted to
you at the dinner party, the way he kept following you around like a dog after
a bone. When we were at the health club, he raved to me about your writing,
especially your piece on Africa. You know how important Africa is to him. I
thought he might bring you out of your shell. Lighten you up a bit. You've been
a bit reclusive since your mother passed and since that business after
Africa..."

That business after Africa
. My father couldn't
admit that I developed clinical depression.

"Kurt was obviously a jerk, but I though
Drake was more your type. Strong. Confident. Competent."

"You were matchmaking for me, Daddy?"

He smiled. "Someone's gotta do it. You
don't seem all that good on your own. I wanted you and Drake to meet for quite
some time, but you've been so reclusive and Dawn isn't much better. Didn't she
join a nunnery or something?"