The Burning Point (25 page)

"I half wish someone would sue. I have all this great data showing how little disturbance PDI causes, and I never get a chance to testify about it."

She laughed. "Forgive me if I don't share your taste for litigation."

After a few minutes of catching up on news, she worked her way through the crowd to Carmen's desk, which had been turned into an impromptu bar. Kate was pouring herself a glass of wine when Berrigan boomed, "Come on back here, Kate. Got something to show you."

In the developer's office Donovan was setting up his laptop to show the digital recording of the shoot. Berrigan clicked his remote, and the Palace crumbled once again.

What had seemed like an endless wait was much swifter now, a catching of breath between the detonators going off and the pulverizing explosions that shattered the support columns. They viewed tapes shot at different angles, both in real time and slow motion, as Donovan and Berrigan analyzed the patterns of the drop.

"A great job, Donovan," Berrigan said. "You can blow up my buildings any time you want." He winked at Kate. "And be sure to bring along Miss Corsi. A dynamite moll is almost as sexy as a biker babe."

Carmen, who had drifted in, said, "Just don't forget that word 'almost'"

Her husband put an arm around her waist. "
Nothing
is as sexy as a biker babe."

Carmen glanced at Kate, and winked.

Chapter 22

Charles Hamilton had always thought of himself as having more than his share of willpower. He was a lawyer, a profession noted for calculation and detachment, and he'd managed to stay away from Julia for days. He hadn't even phoned.

But his willpower snapped the evening he drove through Roland Park. A winter storm had struck in late afternoon, so he stayed at his office through rush hour to avoid the bumper-car traffic. Though conditions improved later, the Jones Falls Expressway was closed due to icing, so he took slower surface roads home. The route took him within two blocks of the Corsi house.

Without conscious decision, he detoured, skidding a little on the narrow side street when he pulled up to the curb. The downstairs windows were golden with light. Julia was home.

He sat with his hands on the steering wheel, knowing he should leave. She'd been distraught when she'd fled his house, and he understood why.

But surely a friendship that had lasted for half a century couldn't have ended forever because of a few minutes of mutual madness. Since she was probably too embarrassed to break the ice between them, it was up to him to make the first move.

He climbed from his Lincoln and went up the slippery walk to ring the bell. Then he held his breath, feeling as if he were sixteen again.

The door swung open. Julia was there, wearing tailored navy slacks, a cool blue sweater, and a wary expression. "Charles. How...unexpected."

Since she didn't slam the door in his face, he stepped inside. "I've been worried about you. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine."

Oscar trotted up and pressed Charles's ankle. He ruffled the Sheltie's fur. "How are you doing, watch dog?"

"He is definitely a lead-the-burglar-to-the-family-silver dog," Julia said as she went into the living room. "Would you like a drink?"

"Please." He hesitated, wondering how to speak his piece without making a total ass of himself.

He'd been an ass before and survived. "Julia, you were understandably upset by what happened between us, but maybe you need to think more about where you are in your life at the moment. What...what will help you through the worst of times."

She turned from the drinks cabinet. "I don't quite follow you."

"You're vulnerable and hurting. You need some human warmth to help you endure. Where better to find it than with an old friend?"

Her aristocratic brows arched. "Are you saying that I should sleep with you for medicinal purposes?"

Damn, he was making a hash of this! "I was talking about friendship, not sex," he said. "Though I'd be a liar if I pretended that I haven't been thinking about what happened that night."

"I've been thinking, too." She set down the bottle of Scotch she'd taken out. "I've also been reading the books about widowhood and loss and grief that friends have given me. Apparently it's not uncommon for someone who has recently lost a spouse to...to seek comfort elsewhere, and to keep very quiet about it, for fear of what other people might say. Knowing that makes me feel less of a monster."

"Never that, Julia."

"After Barbara died--did you find another woman to help you through some of the bad spells?"

"No, but that's probably because there were no women I cared about who were single and willing. There were times when I felt I was dying from the lack of human touch." He took one of her hands, warming it between both of his. "Let's be friends again, Julia. I'm not asking you for love or commitment or to be disloyal to Sam. Simply companionship. The sharing of doubts and fears. Shelter from the storm, for both of us."

"You're so right about the hunger for touch." She leaned into him, her forehead resting on his shoulder. "More than anything, I miss being held."

"After Barbara's death, I invited both dogs onto the bed to help me make it through the nights." He put his arms around her without passion or demand. Simply friendship, because if he told her how he really felt, he'd scare her to death. Life had knocked out a lot of his pride. He'd settle for what bits of affection he could get. "Think of me as a larger version of Oscar, always available for a hug."

She laughed a little. "But I think you'd want to do something that Oscar, poor darling, hasn't been equipped to do for years."

"I won't deny that. But I don't want anything you don't want to give."

"What bothers me is that I...would want what you want."

"We can work things out as we go along, Julia. Fill up some of the empty places in each other's lives. It doesn't have to be a sexual relationship or nothing." He stroked her back and she relaxed, absorbing his embrace like a flower thirsting for water. There were undertones of desire between them, but for now that wasn't important. What mattered was that they were in harmony again. "Just don't shut me out."

She tilted her head back, and he saw that there were unshed tears in her eyes. "Forget the law, Charles. You should have been a used car salesman."

Recognizing that he'd won his case, he relaxed into a smile. "Maybe I should. It would be a step up in status from being a lawyer."

She gave the first real laugh he'd heard from her since Sam's death. They were friends again.

Maybe, God willing, someday they would be something more.

∗ ∗ ∗

Kate enjoyed the post-shot celebration, but after an hour of chatting and grazing the sandwich buffet, fatigue hit hard. She drove back to the Grand Maya and took a long, leisurely bath. Then she put on her lounging robe, dug a small, over-priced bottle of wine from the minibar, and sprawled on the sofa. The vague dreams she'd harbored all her life had been turned into reality, and the results had been beyond her expectations.

She was lazily trying to decide if she was ready to go to bed and sleep for ten hours when Donovan returned. "You didn't last long," he said.

"When I started yearning to curl up underneath Carmen's desk for a nap, I knew it was time to call it a night." She smothered a yawn. "Can't wait to get back to Maryland and have a few days of peace and quiet."

"Not until day after tomorrow. Remember, we have to go to San Francisco to look over some old bank building."

"I'd forgotten." Or rather, she hadn't wanted to remember. Her conscience might not let her take the easy way out when breaking up with Alec, but that didn't mean she would enjoy doing it the hard way.

Donovan straddled a chair and folded his arms across the back. "If he has the time--maybe we can have dinner with Tom?"

She came instantly alert. "Why--so you can call him a faggot to his face?"

"No. So that I can apologize for being a jerk."

Donovan hadn't been the only jerk--Sam had been far worse. Even for Kate, the most doting of little sisters, Tom's coming out had been a shock.

∗ ∗ ∗

It had been a Saturday in spring--the last spring of her marriage--and she'd been planting flowers along her front walk when her brother dropped by for a visit.

Tall and dark haired and handsome, he ambled across the new grass, his eyes less relaxed than his posture. "Got another trowel, or is this a one-person garden party?"

"Heck, no, if Donovan was home, I'd have roped him into planting petunias."

Tom went for a trowel, then dropped to his knees on the other side of the slate walk and began to dig. Kate found it soothing to have him there, especially since things had been very tense between her and Donovan lately.

Would talking to Tom help? He was the best sounding board she knew. But if she revealed that Donovan was sometimes a little...a little too angry, her brother would not be objective. Worse, it seemed a dreadful betrayal of her husband to discuss their marriage with an outsider.

"Kate, there's something I want to tell you." He looked up, regarding her with the blue eyes that were so much like their mother's.

She sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead. "Are you and Rachel getting married? You two have been hanging out forever. Now that you're out of school and making pots of money as a programmer..."

"No! Nothing...nothing like that."

"What, then?"

"I'm not going to be marrying anyone. Ever." He placed a geranium in a hole and patted the dark soil around it. When he could delay no longer, he took a deep breath and raised his gaze to his sister. "I'm gay, Kate."

She blinked at him, at first not processing the words. Then she recognized what he meant, and her blood drained from her face.

Tom said tightly, "Say something, Katie. Please."

She reached across the stone path and took his hand. Though she was numbed by the news, this was still Tom, her brother. His fingers locked around hers.

"Sorry. I...I have to readjust my assumptions here." How could Tom be gay? He liked women, enjoyed their company. But as she looked back, she realized that his behavior toward her friends had been that of a brother.

Lord, what had it been like for Tom, having to hide something so basic about himself? "I...I've always looked forward to you having kids so I could be an aunt. I'm going to miss that. But I'll get used to it."

"Probably quicker than I will," he said.

"How...how long have you known?

"All my life, I think. Some of my earliest memories are of knowing that I was different, and that I mustn't talk about it. I've spent years trying to deny what I am, but I can't live a lie any longer."

She thought of Rachel Hamilton, who'd been dating Tom since high school. "Does Rachel know?"

"She figured it out a while back."

"How did she react?"

"Rachel's going to make a great doctor--she was totally calm. In fact, she's the one who raised the subject a couple of weeks ago, saying it was time I sorted myself out. I almost passed out from shock, but once I recovered, it was an incredible relief to be able to discuss what I am openly. She encouraged me to tell the family. I figured that I'd start with you, because you're the most likely to...accept me." His voice wavered.

"Oh, Tom, how could I not?" She knee-walked over the flagstones and hugged him. "You're the best brother in the world, and I love you. I always will."

He embraced her so hard her ribs hurt. They clung together for a long time as tears stung Kate's eyes. He was the kindest and most compassionate man she'd ever known, but many would judge him on his sexuality without learning anything else about him. "This must have been so hard for you to carry alone."

"It...hasn't been easy." He released her and sat back on his heels. "At least you haven't told me to never darken your door again. It's a start. But I'm worried about telling Mom and Dad."

"They love you, Tom. You're no different today than you were yesterday. They aren't going to toss you out for being who you are."

"I think Mom will react like you--shocked, but able to handle it. But Dad..." He scooped a handful of soil and crumbled it in his hand. "This will break his heart. It was bad enough when I refused to follow him into PDI, but this is far worse. His only son, a fag. Queer. He's going to be devastated, and it's going to come out as rage."

Tom was probably right. Their father was stubborn and an unrepentant traditionalist. The man who wouldn't allow his daughter to work in the family business would be horrified to learn that his only son was homosexual. "He'll be upset, but he'll get over it. He always does."

"This is different, Kate. Very different." Tom turned his trowel restlessly in his hands. "Donovan is going to have trouble, too."

"He'll be startled, but he's always really liked you. Also, he's got less invested--it's easier to accept a gay brother-in-law than a gay son."

"True. But would you mind not telling him until I'm ready to tell Mom and Dad? This coming out business is a real energy drain."