I'm not making any money off this, and I promise not to keep Gary forever.
He can go back (if he wants to
Many thanks to my erstwhile beta readers, for managing to stay focused enough to actually edit in the midst of all this ooey-gooey stuff! Your contributions were essential to the final en-goo-ment of this piece of fan fic.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Brown Penny
by nonniemous
I whispered, "I am too young,"
And then, "I am old enough";
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love."
--- William Butler Yeats
Part 1
For a minute, it looked like the girl came right out of the smoke, like the genie who was supposed to when you rubbed the lamp. Gary shook his head and took a second look, the open tap in front of him momentarily forgotten. No, she hadn't come out of the smoke, just stepped through the door like all the other customers. Tall, with a beret that matched her long dark coat, she stood to one side of the door, scanning the room as if she was there to meet someone.
"I think it's full, Gar." Chuck's voice came from the vicinity of his elbow at about the same time the glass in Gary's hand overflowed. Gary jumped back from the sudden flood of beer suds that flowed over the glass into the drain tray and onto the floor at his feet. Chuck rescued the glass from Gary's grip, wiped it off with a flourish and an apologetic grin, and, commenting "The help you can't get nowadays," handed it to the waiting customer. Casting a look toward the door - the girl was gone - Gary grabbed a towel and began mopping up. It was hard to do, especially when he was trying at the same time to scan the crowd in the smoky room to find out where she had gone.
I hope she didn't leave he thought, giving a last shove at the towel on the floor with his foot, then grabbing it up, he tossed it toward the bin under the bar.
"Okay, who is she?" Gary jumped at Chuck's face right in front of his, then glared at his friend.
"What d'ya mean, ‘who is she?'" He shot back, feeling the heat already mounting in his face. Chuck's grin spread.
"Well, that cute blush you got, for one."
Gary grimaced and looked for a rag to finish cleaning off the counter.
Chuck continued, "For two, the fact that I asked you three times while I was over at the cash register what was going on and you never even heard me." Gary turned to face his friend, stepping out of the way of the part-time bartender, there tonight because Crumb was off. Chuck's gaze was gleeful, and he lifted one eyebrow inquiringly. Gary frowned, and --
"Gary? Gary Hobson?"
Gary and Chuck turned at the same time. She was taller than he remembered, but the hair and the sideways smile and the eyes were the same, and the voice with its soft drawl faintly heralding her southern birth.
"Kate! It was you!" Gary smiled and held his hand out across the bar toward her, suds and all. Kate just looked at it and her smile grew bigger. With a chagrined grin, Gary found a rag to dry his hand on, then held it out again. This time she took it, and her laugh was delighted -- at least it sounded so to him.
At a sudden dig in his side, Gary put his other hand on Chuck's shoulder, without letting go of her hand or taking his eyes off Kate's face. "You remember my roommate, Chuck Fishman?"
"Of course I do." She disentangled her hand from Gary's and held it out to Chuck, who was at his oily best.
"Remember? Have we met? Surely I would have remembered such a fair face?"
Kate laughed again, a light trill, and Gary felt his stomach tighten.
"Now, you wouldn't remember any face if it was buried behind a book, now, would you?"
Chuck looked confused. Gary rescued him with a friendly pat on the back, gesturing towards the tall woman on the other side of the bar.
"She lived with Donna and the others, in the house on Watson Street. Remember?" Chuck's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, as he looked sideways first at Gary's hand on his shoulder, then at Gary himself. Gary continued, oblivious. "Kate and I had German from Hauser together." Gary removed his hand from Chuck's back and leaned on the bar with both hands, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face as he met Kate's eyes again.
"Kate's the only reason I got a passing grade in that class."
She grinned back at him. "That's for sure. Marcia was the German scholar, not you," she chuckled, raising her eyebrows at him.
Staring at both the suddenly effusive Gary and the woman across the bar, Chuck made a silent ‘oh' with his mouth. As Gary finally spared his friend a glance, he realized he'd been gaping at Kate as if he'd never seen a woman before. But, though she reddened slightly under his gaze, she didn't seem offended. She wouldn't be pretty enough for Chuck, Gary knew that. Long, wavy, dark-honey-brown hair tucked behind her ears, round face, smallish nose, she was a bit plump - by Chuck's exacting standards, anyway. He didn't think there was any way he could explain to Chuck what was it about her that had his heart beating so quickly - tonight and in the past. Chuck was still staring at Kate, then he glanced at his friend, and turning back to Kate took a breath --
"Is this yours?" Breaking her gaze away from Gary at last, Kate's eyes and hand indicated the bar with a sweep. Chuck looked irritated at being cut off -- not that anyone noticed. Gary grinned, and glanced around proudly.
"Yeah. Just got it this year. Um, Chuck, here, he's, he's my partner..."
Chuck smiled and took another breath, but he was cut off again by Kate.
"A wee bit removed from commodities." She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she took another look around. "Do you like it?" Her head tilted to one side, and she smiled, a slow, one-sided grin. Her eyes, Gary couldn't believe he'd forgotten her eyes. The color was sea-green or sea-blue, or - something. Barely visible in the dimness of the bar, they still managed to look electric somehow. And that smile... Chuck gave Gary a shove toward the end of the bar. When Gary turned on him in irritation for the interuption, Chuck lifted his eyebrows in an insinuating expression Gary could read all too clearly, before Chuck even opened his mouth.
"Why don't you buy the lady a drink, Gar? Talk over old times. Hey, maybe even talk in German or something." Gary resisted for a moment, then began to give in, before he saw the apologetic look on Kate's face across the bar. Shaking free of Chuck, he felt his stomach sink as she shrugged.
"I can't, not now anyway. I'm meeting some people from work." She looked away, then back at Gary. He could have sworn her eyes flicked toward his left hand where it rested on the bar, ringless, before coming to rest on his face. "But I'd love to, another time. Tomorrow night, maybe?"
Gary nodded, his eyes still on Kate's. "Yeah, sure." As Chuck's elbow made contact with his ribs he spared another irritated glance toward his friend, then turned back to Kate. She looked disappointed at his less than enthusiastic answer. Quickly he stepped back up to the bar and reached across to take her hand again. "Yeah, that would be great. You want me to pick you up?"
Kate's smile was dazzling again. "No, I live right near here, and I have a late class tomorrow night. How about I just show up about eight or so?"
Gary nodded, letting go of her hand. "Sure."
Someone called her name, and she turned to wave once at a group sitting at several tables pulled together near the pool tables back of the bar. Stepping away, she looked back at Gary.
"Don't panic if I'm a bit late. Sometimes it takes me a while to get out after class."
"I won't." Gary shook his head as she turned away, and continued to watch as she moved over to take a seat where the group was making room for her. He nodded when she looked over at him one last time, then she was sitting down and her friends' voices and laughter engulfed her.
Gary turned to see Chuck's most irritating grin directed straight at him.
"What?"
Chuck just looked even more infuriatingly like the cat that found the cream after it swallowed the canary.
"Nothing." He shook his head and moved away as one of the busboys came rushing out of the kitchen toward them. "Nothing at all." Chuck bent his head as the busboy began talking urgently to him and they both strode back through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
Gary wasted a disgusted glare in Chuck's general direction, then turned
toward the next customer at the bar.
He didn't see her leave. Called into the kitchen for a moment to settle some crisis or other, when Gary returned to the front room a few minutes later her table was empty, and she and her friends were gone.
Well, what do you expect? She's just your ex-wife's old college buddy. You expect her to be waiting for you, draped over the bar or something at closing time?. Gary tried to drive that disconcerting picture away, concentrating so hard on the closing tasks of the bar that he didn't hear the busboy the first two times he spoke to him. It was the white napkin waving in front of his face that finally got his attention.
"That lady, the one you and Mr. Fishman were talking to? She asked me to give this to you." Dazed, Gary nodded his thanks and the busboy, his evening done, headed out the door.
The napkin was folded in half, and Gary's stomach tightened for a moment. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but he found himself almost reluctant to read it.
"So? You gonna stare at it all night? Or do you want me to read it for you?" Gary frowned at Chuck, ignoring the jibe. Turning his back on Chuck, he walked to the other end of the bar. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself - for what he wasn't quite sure - he opened the napkin.
For auld lang syne. -- Kate. Followed by the address of an apartment building just a few streets away, and then a phone number.
"Hey! You made quite an impression." Chuck's voice drawled over Gary's shoulder.
"Do you mind?" Gary jerked the napkin away and headed toward the office and the stairs. He stopped at the door to glare and point an accusing finger at Chuck's grin.
"Just for that, you can finish closing by yourself!"
His indignant exit was somewhat spoiled by Chuck's voice floating after him:
"Sweet dreams, Gar!"
* * * * *
"So, who is she?" Marissa sipped the coffee in her cup and smiled benignly as Gary peered incredulously from behind the newspaper, before frowning in disgust. His chair came back down on all 4 legs as he set his coffee cup down. He put one elbow on the table and leaned toward Marissa.
"Well, whatever Chuck told you, it's not true."
Marissa smiled again.
"He just said some old college friend turned up last night and you were acting like a 12-year-old with his first crush."
"Oh he did, did he?" With a disgusted snort, Gary sat back, took a drink of his own coffee then set it down as he continued to peruse the paper. Marissa smiled as she took another sip from her cup, and, after a couple of minutes, said, "You still haven't answered my question."
"Huh?" Gary flicked one edge of the paper down to consider Marissa. "Do you look that innocent naturally or did you have to practice?"
Marissa just smiled at her coffee again, and Gary gave up. Folding the paper, he put it down on the table and took up his fork. The scrambled eggs were cold, and he picked at them for a minute or two before answering.
"Her name's Kate, Kate MacAdam. She was Marcia's friend in college. They and some other girls all rented a big house together before Marcia and I got married."
Marissa waited patiently while Gary took a bite and chewed absentmindedly. After a few seconds, he swallowed and continued.
"We had a couple of classes together, and we really hit it off. But, Marcia and I were, well, we were together by then." Gary hesitated again, and then, in a rush, "I sometimes used to wonder - in the back of my mind, you know - I kind of wondered what would have happened if I had met Kate first, before Marcia." He shrugged then, and looked down at his plate.
Marissa's eyebrows rose. She reached out to touch his hand. Gary's head shot up at her touch.
"Especially in light of what happened between you and Marcia?" Her voice was gentle.
Gary fervently hoped there would come a day when just the mention of his too-recent divorce didn't cause a stabbing pain in his gut. Today, even though he knew Marissa couldn't see his pain, couldn't see the haunted eyes that his mirror still reflected back at him some mornings, he looked away before he answered.
"Yeah, I guess so." He looked back at Marissa. "Kate got married too, though, to some football player, Trevor something-or-other. Last I heard, they were living in Minnesota somewhere."
Marissa let go of his hand, and picked up her coffee again.
"And then she shows up last night, in your bar, alone. Did you notice if she had a ring on?"
Gary looked away from his friend, flustered.
"Yeah."
Marissa was good at waiting tolerantly for answers Gary wasn't sure he wanted to give. He sighed and shoveled cold eggs into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed.
"She didn't."
Marissa nodded knowingly, and put her cup down.
"So now you have to decide if you want to find out if what might have been could still be."
"Yeah. I guess that's it." Gary looked morosely at the remains of his breakfast as Marissa finished her coffee.
"Anything in the paper this morning?" Her tone was bright, and Gary looked at her, recognizing a change of the subject.
"No, not really." He sounded forlorn, and Marissa reached for his hand once more, her face concerned.
"Gar... you'll never know if you don't try."
"Yeah, well I've been dumped on once, I don't really care to set myself up again."
"She's not Marcia, Gary. And you'll --"
"--never know unless I try." Gary finished for her. He nodded, remembering the napkin, with Kate's address and phone number, tucked away this morning in his wallet. "I know, I know." He grabbed the paper as he stood up.
"Gotta go. I'll see you later."
Marissa nodded as he left, and her face was more thoughtful than usual.
* * * * *
It was a relatively quiet night, as far as they went in McGinty's Bar and Grill, and Gary had more time to consider his approaching date than he really wanted.
You haven't seen her in what, 7 years? he counseled himself in between restocking the bar and filling napkin holders. She probably just wants to get together to talk over old times, like she said in her note. Don't get your hopes up. With a disgusted snort, he realized he wasn't even sure what he was hoping for. Chuck's voice interrupted his reverie.
"Eight o'clock, Gar. She should be here soon." Gary looked up from where he knelt behind the bar to find Chuck leering at him over the counter. At Gary's glare, Chuck tried to look innocent.
"Any you seen the busboy? I got empty tables stacking up out here." Chuck leaned over and looked around behind the bar as if he expected to see the busboy hiding behind it.
Gary shook his head in disgust. "No. And I hear any cracks outta you about 12-year-olds--"
"Marissa told you that? I never said that, Gar, honest." Gary just looked at his friend. "Well, maybe something along those lines, but it was just so cute to see you looking so flustered and embarrassed." Chuck dropped his voice conspiratorially. "I gotta hand it to ya, Gar, that shy routine worked, it really worked. Man, I never did so little to get a date. Think you could teach me?" His eyebrows rose and he looked expectantly at Gary.
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" With a glare, Gary grabbed the empty box and stalked back into the kitchen.
Crumb, wiping an imaginary spill off the bar, came over, indicating the door swinging behind Gary's retreat with a nod of his head.
"What's with Hobson tonight? He's in a rare mood."
Chuck opened his mouth to answer but before he could, Marissa called warningly from where she stood at the end of the bar.
"Chuck."
Both men turned to stare at her.
"I think you'd better back off this time. Okay?" Chuck stared at her in disbelief as she turned and made her way into the kitchen after Gary. Then he turned to Crumb, who lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side as he looked at Chuck.
"You know, Fishman, in my experience, the lady is usually right. Especially that lady." He flapped his rag in the general direction Marissa had disappeared, and then turned away and resumed wiping down the bar.
Chuck tried his best to look innocent and offended at the same time, and, failing that, headed towards the kitchen himself to see what had happened to the busboy.
Forty-five minutes later, Marissa found Gary in the midst of a full-blown inventory of the beer cooler.
"Gary? Kate just called."
He shifted the last case of Bud onto the stack, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with one sleeve. Inventory had been done just a couple of days ago, but Gary was trying unsuccessfully to ignore both the slowly passing time and the fact that Kate had not shown up. Tossing a "Yeah?" in Marissa's general direction, he picked up his clipboard and made a couple of notes on it. Marissa waited until he put it down and gave her his full attention. Gary wiped more sweat off his nose, and waited, trying to ignore the tightening in his stomach and steeling himself for the worst.
She changed her mind. Doesn't want to date a has-been like me. Can't be too surprised she doesn't want her friend's leftovers...
He tuned in as Marissa continued, "...running way late and wanted to know if you could just meet her at her apartment in 15 minutes. Said you have the address already." Marissa waited while Gary digested that information. He knew she didn't have to be able to see to feel his mood lighten.
"Yeah, okay, I'm pretty much done here anyway." Gary surveyed the cooler one last time, and then followed Marissa out. He hung the clipboard on its nail by the door, and headed toward the office and his apartment. It would only take a minute to grab a shower and change --
"Gary?" He turned toward Marissa. She smiled and lifted an imaginary toast in his general direction. "Here's to what could be."
Gary smiled.
"Thanks, Marissa." She shook her head and smiled as he went up the
stairs, two at a time, for all the world like a 12-year-old boy in a hurry.
"... he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon."
---William Butler Yeats
Part 2
The restaurant had emptied but for Gary and Kate and a somewhat rowdy group celebrating something on the other side of the room. The waitresses were preoccupied with the group's many demands, and Gary fully appreciated the extra measure of privacy he and Kate enjoyed as a result. The Chinese food had been good, and Gary, despite his initial nervousness, had found he and Kate slipped back easily into the bantering relationship they had enjoyed in college. Now they lingered over their drinks, empty plates pushed to one side.
Gary studied Kate's face as she took a drink of her water, watching the ice as she swirled it in her glass. Dressed in jeans and a purple turtleneck sweater that set off her eyes, she hadn't changed much at all in seven years. Kate was no great beauty, on the outside anyway, and if Gary was honest with himself he had to admit that was one reason at the time he hadn't preferred her over Marcia. Still, she was pretty, and the warmth in her eyes and her smile more than made up for whatever she may have lacked in the Hollywood-style looks department. Feminine, Gary thought suddenly; feminine and soft and curved like a woman, not a bone factory. He pushed away the thought of what those soft curves would feel like under his hand and shook his head as Kate looked up at him again and smiled.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice was quiet, bemused.
"I- I was just thinking you haven't changed much these last few years."
She paused, considering his face before she answered.
"You haven't either." She looked out the window briefly, then back at him. "Funny, you'd think it would show more, the things we go through in life. But maybe that's not until your body gets to be as old as your heart.." She took a drink of water, and then looked at him, her eyes soft. Gary's heart leaped.
"I was sorry to hear about you and Marcia." Gary was startled, and she answered before he could ask. "I ran into her at Donna's last Christmas. I'm sorry," she repeated.
Gary shrugged, and looked out the window at the cars passing by for a moment. "These things happen." He looked back at Kate. Her smile was bitter.
"Yeah, well you-know-what happens too, and they both stink, every time."
Gary laughed briefly.
"So what about you and Trevor?"
This time he wasn't sure what the expression was that flitted across her face before she looked down at the water glass in her hand. She stared at it for a moment, and when she finally faced him again, Gary was surprised at her bleak mien.
"It was a mistake. One of my worst. Or best, however you want to look at it.." She shrugged and took another drink, staring out the window much as he had earlier. "Why do they let us get married when we're young and stupid and don't know anything about life?" There was a lifetime of pain and weariness in her voice and the gaze she turned on him.
Gary frowned, concerned, and without thinking he reached across the table, brushing Kate's hand lightly with the tips of his fingers.
"Hey, I didn't mean-"
"No, I know you didn't." She took his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. For the few seconds Kate held his hand Gary would have been hard put to say where he was at all. But, he knew who he was with, and he knew he liked the feel of her hand in his. The world came to life around him again as Kate released his hand. Gary resisted the sudden urge to grab her hand before she pulled it all the way away. The people at the other table were yelling for more fortune cookies, and Kate cast an amused glance their direction before taking a deep breath and facing Gary again.
"It happened, and, just like you and Marcia, it stank, stank to high heaven." She smiled then, and Gary smiled back. She considered his face carefully for a moment.
"You look happy now, though."
Gary shrugged, taking his water glass and carefully positioning it in front of him before responding to Kate's observation.
"Relatively happy, yeah"
Kate laughed.
"I told Marcia you'd never be content in a suit working a nine to five job. And especially not working with money and numbers. You're not that cold." Gary stared at Kate in consternation. She wasn't looking at him as she continued.
"I must admit, though, I was surprised to find you running that bar. Somehow I figured you'd wind up as a doctor or a policeman or something, Gar, not a businessman. You always struck me as the type who needed to be out saving the world from itself." She turned a quizzical eye toward him. Gary tried to look more like a man and less like a stranded fish.
"W-w-w-what do you mean?" he managed to ask.
"About you saving the world?" Now it was Kate's turn to worry. "Gar? I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"
"No, no, it's all right." Gary waved her concern aside. "It's just, I never, well..." He stopped, took a deep breath, then looked straight at Kate. "I've never had anyone say it to me quite like that, before."
Kate's eyes grew wide in sudden comprehension and she giggled. Gary stared at her - openmouthed, again - in total surprise.
"You've got something else going on, don't you? Something that has a whole lot more to with saving the world than running that bar of yours. And you didn't want anyone to know, and thought you were doing a good job keeping it from all but those who are closest to you, right?"
Gary managed a flustered nod.
"Oh, Gary, if someone didn't know you, they might take you for only what they saw at the bar. But, for those who know you, who look to see, it's obvious. I tried to tell Marcia you were both making a mistake when she told me you were gonna take up stockbroking to put her through law school. I knew you wouldn't be happy, and you'd throw over the traces sooner or later."
Gary frowned. Kate almost seemed to be implying he'd left Marcia.
"But, she kicked me out," he protested.
Kate nodded, all humor gone from her face.
"Yes, but only because she realized you were never gonna come down to what she wanted from life: money and prestige. You've always known there was more to life than that." Gary stared at Kate. She looked up, and, caught the expression on his face.
"Gary, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, or to put Marcia down --"
Gary cut her off.
"No, no, it's all right. It's just- I've just always assumed all this time that it was what was wrong with me, that that was why our marriage didn't work out." Gary shifted in his seat, distinctly uncomfortable with the tack the conversation had taken. He had trouble meeting Kate's gaze. "It-it-it never occurred to me to think that it as what was right about me, that, that Marcia was wrong..." Shrugging, he gave up trying to articulate his sudden conflicting emotions. "It never occurred to me at all."
Kate reached across the table and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly until he looked into her eyes.
"And that's exactly what I'm talking about - you saving the world. You took the blame, to protect her from herself. You could carry it, could deal with it. She couldn't, so she blamed you for everything - and because you loved her, you let her. Your only mistake was believing her, when she said it was all your fault."
Kate's intensity got through to him. Without thinking, he asked, "Is that how it happened with you and Trevor?"
Her face shut down. That was the only way Gary could describe it. It was like watching all the lights go out in a city and then the stars went too. Kate shivered, looking lost and alone, like a little child in a body too big for her all of a sudden. Stunned at her reaction, Gary reached for her hand again, this time gathering it all the way in his own. Her eyes were closed.
"Kate, I'm sorry, I --"
Opening her eyes, she shook her head, forestalling his apology.
"No, it's all right. Like I said, it stank, and sometimes it still stinks." She held his hand briefly between hers, then let go. Taking a deep breath, she explained, "I gave so much, tried so hard to make that relationship work, put up with so much, and still..." Gary watched and waited silently for her to continue. "It's been 4 years since the divorce was final and it's only in the last year that I've felt whole again." She wouldn't look at him, and Gary signaled for the check to give her the privacy she needed to regain her composure.
Man, that must have been one ugly divorce Gary thought, as he took his wallet out of his pocket and started counting out cash to the waiter. His and Marcia's divorce had actually been fairly amicable - if you didn't count the fact he hadn't wanted it at all.
"Hey, I was going to get this!"
Gary looked at her. The lights were all back on, and whatever monster had crawled out of her memory was contained once more. She smiled at him, and he grinned in return.
"Hey, no self-respecting knight in shining armor would let a woman buy him dinner." Her delighted laugh was a relief to hear.
* * * * *
Later that night, lying in bed with one arm tucked behind his head, Gary replayed the events of the evening over in his mind. They had walked home in the cool weather, chit chatting about different things. Gary told her some of his more humorous adventures with the paper - sans anything about the paper itself of course - sending Kate into constant fits of giggles. Then she talked a little about her job as an associate professor of languages at Chicago University. When they reached the door of her apartment, Kate unlocked it, and then, without opening it, turned to him. She stood there, the hall lights glinting softly in her hair, looking up at him - though not too far, for she was only a few inches shorter than his 6 feet 1 inches - and smiled her crooked smile. Gary's heart leaped, and his throat was suddenly dry. He swallowed convulsively, thinking wryly that Chuck's description of a 12-year-old with his first crush hadn't been that far off.
"Thank you, Gary. I haven't had such a wonderful evening in a long time." His heart pounding, Gary had reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
"Yeah, well, I haven't either." He smiled back at her, and their eyes locked. Gary held his breath, almost afraid of the possibilities that suddenly seemed thick in the air around them. Then, tentatively, hesitantly, Gary leaned forward to kiss her. She returned the kiss, her lips soft beneath his, then they both blushed and pulled away from each other. Unwilling to let the moment go completely, he reached out and took her hand.
"Hey, I've got tickets for a Bulls' game tomorrow night. Want to go?" He grinned his best boyish grin at her, forgetting that he had already half promised Chuck the other ticket.
Kate slanted her head to one side for one moment, and smiled thoughtfully as she looked at Gary.
"Sure."
Gary laughed then, and bending down gave her cheek a gentle brush with his lips. Kate smiled, then pulled her hand from his and turned her doorknob. Pausing just before she went in, she looked back at him and smiled.
"Till tomorrow, then?"
Gary nodded. "Till tomorrow."
And the door had closed on the promise of her bright smile.
"Looks like what might have been still might be," he said out loud to the cat, grinning in spite of himself. Then, eyes narrowed, he glared briefly at the cat. "Just don't you go finding some way to mess it all up, hear me?" The cat ignored him, continuing its evening toilet. Gary grinned again. He couldn't deny it. Kate seemed to be just as attracted to him as he was to her. He rolled over and plumped the pillow under his head. "It's worth a try, anyway. Worth a try." Finished, the cat mreeowed at him, and they fell asleep in companionable silence.
* * * * *
The next few weeks seemed to pass in a blur for Gary. Though his days were just as full with the paper as they had always been, he found himself resenting the paper less than he had in a long time, because somewhere in each day there would be Kate. After all, the paper had brought him the bar. That was where Kate had come to him, and both gave him - sometimes - more flexibility to find time to spend with her than a regular job ever would have.
The cat even seemed to approve of Kate - at least judging by how much attention the enigmatic feline paid to her whenever she showed up. Chuck was even starting to grouse about being second banana to Kate with the cat. Lately the cat seemed to have adopted her lap as its own private throne - going so far as to hiss at Gary the last time he put his arm around Kate as she sat on his couch. Gary hadn't even bothered to pause the movie they were watching for as long as it took him to throw the darn animal out.
Kate was easy to be with, and Gary found he wanted to be with her a lot. She seemed to accept him and the erratic life the paper had given him without question. She'd never hassled him about any of the side trips they made on their dates, or the times he disappeared for hours on end. The few dates he'd had to break with her because of the paper hadn't even seemed to bother her. Each time Kate had either been at McGinty's waiting for him, or there was an undemanding message on his phone machine when he got home. At first, Gary wasn't sure if her easy going attitude was just because their relationship was so new, or if that was just the way she was. He hoped it was the latter, and as time passed that hope seemed to be born out.
Some evenings Kate came to the bar and just hung out, lending a hand wherever they needed it. Gary spent several afternoons helping Kate paint her apartment, and several more helping her move things around her office at the University. They went to a couple of Bulls' games, one of Gary's regular customers being a season ticket holder who couldn't always make the games. Chuck hadn't spoken to Gary for two days after Gary took Kate to the game against the Jazz instead of him. Later, seeing how happy his friend was with Kate, he relented - though he put considerable time and effort after that into intercepting the Bulls tickets before Gary got them. When people asked Gary about "dating" Kate, he would just shrug and grin. They weren't dating; their lives had just somehow fallen into sync with each other.
One thing still lay between them. Gary hadn't yet told Kate about
the paper, but he knew he was going to have to, very soon.
"O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it..."
---William Butler Yeats
Part 3
Kate liked to walk. Unless she was loaded down with books or her students' papers or something, she rarely drove. So, tonight, as they did on most of their outings, she and Gary had walked to the theater from her apartment. On their way home, crossing the Dearborn Street Bridge, Kate stopped to lean on the metal railing, gazing out over the water. Gary joined her, their elbows touching slightly as he leaned on the bridge next to her.
The silence between them was comfortable, familiar. For a few moments they just watched the river and the small, misshapen reflections from the lights of nearby buildings and passing vehicles wavering delicately on its surface. The night air was cool, spring having not yet given way fully to summer. The two thin bracelets Kate wore around one wrist jangled faintly as she rubbed her bare arms. Gary caught a faint whiff of scent as she moved, almost like vanilla.
"I've always loved the lights on the water like that." Gary looked up as Kate spoke, but she wasn't looking at him. "When I was a child, I thought they were jewels, and I cried because my daddy wouldn't get them for me." Shrugging deprecatingly, her eyes flicked to his attentive face for a moment, before returning to the watery vista in front of them. "As I got older, I began to cherish the fact that no matter where I was, what part of the world I was in, what river I was looking at, the lights and the sound of the water were always the same. Even though sometimes it seemed like so much of my life was like those lights. Beautiful to look at, but..." She paused, her gaze pensive. Her voice was soft as she continued, as if she wasn't really talking to him. "But nothing that we love overmuch is ponderable to our touch."
His brow furrowed with confusion as he watched Kate gaze somberly into the river, Gary took a deep breath, preparing to ask just where that particular train of thought had come from. Kate looked at him, and the darkness in her eyes was banished in the light that broke across her face as she smiled at him.
"Oh, Gary, I'm sorry." Shaking her head she laughed softly. "My melancholy Irish genes are acting up. It's a line from a poem by Yeats." She stared out over the water again for a moment before reciting, "I grew wild, even accusing heaven because it had set down among its laws: nothing that we love overmuch is ponderable to our touch."
She sounded... wistful? Bitter? Hurt? Maybe all three; Gary couldn't tell, and he wasn't sure what to say. He took another breath, shifted his feet on the bridge, looked at the river himself for a minute, then looked up to find Kate watching him, her gaze somber. His eyes searched hers - or were hers searching his? Gary couldn't be sure. He just knew his heart was thudding and his stomach was twisting and maybe he shouldn't have that second serving from the dessert bar tonight.
Kate broke the spell, turning back to the river without speaking. Gary moved so he faced her, leaning on one elbow against the railing - observing her this time, and not the river. She wore a simple but fashionable dress of some dark turquoise material that shimmered in the vague light. It set off the color of her eyes dramatically, and the neckline left her shoulders mostly bare. Gary forced himself to look away from the decolletage peeking out of the lowest point, pushing away his abrupt desire to reach up and trace the cleavage.
He didn't try not to trace the lines of her dress with his eyes, losing himself for a moment in the way it fit tight to her body, emphasizing the full curves there before it swooped out over her hips in a flared skirt that draped gracefully down her long legs almost to her ankles. Her long hair was swept back and up, a couple of glittering objects decorating the resulting bundle above the nape of her neck. Swallowing, Gary wondered what would happen if he pulled one out. Probably the entire arrangement would come cascading down. Long delicate earrings captured what light was available and sent it dancing in tiny twinkles on her slim neck. He found himself envying their freedom, his fingers longing to join them in their play across her fair skin.
Not sure what to do with the thoughts and visions suddenly crowding his mind, most of them involving removing the dress he was admiring, Gary looked out over the river again, loosening his tie as he did so and hoping that the rising color in his face wasn't noticeable in the half dark they stood in.
Kate stirred beside him and, as he glanced back, she turned to face him, shivering slightly. This time Gary could see goose bumps on her arms. Quickly he moved the paper from the inside pocket of his coat to the back pocket of his pants. Kate smiled as his jacket went around her and she pulled it close. But the smile didn't light up her eyes like it should have. Gary frowned. What was bothering her tonight? Before he could say anything, she spoke, turning her head away, not meeting his gaze.
"There's another poem by Yeats. It says: I have not lost desire, but the heart that I had; I thought ‘twould burn my body laid on the deathbed, for who could have foretold that the heart grows old." She whispered the last words, and Gary felt the sorrow in them pierce his own heart. Kate didn't look up, didn't face him, just spoke again before he could think of anything to say.
"Does your heart ever feel old? Do you never wonder what happened between you and Marcia, Gary? Where and why it went so wrong, and how come you were the last one to know it?" The pain in Kate's aqua eyes as she finally met his gaze cut him to the quick. Fingers of one hand nervously drumming on the bridge railing, Gary looked away now, his own bitterness over the last year and half since Marcia threw him out rising all too willingly to the surface of his thoughts. Yeah, he wondered. He still hadn't come to grips with what happened between he and Marcia, in spite of Kate's comments on their first date.
A picture rose unbidden in his mind: his ex-wife, impeccably dressed in one of her lawyer suit-dresses, standing in the lobby at the Blackstone Hotel. She had come to give him the Lost Chicago book, less than a month after she had first thrown him out. She had tried to lighten the mood of their meeting, teasing that the book must be from some old girlfriend. But they both knew there had only been one old girlfriend before her. Gary had finally given up trying to think of anything to say, and just stared at her. Some of what was in his heart must have come out that way, because she had been increasingly uncomfortable, and finally left, unable to meet his eyes as she turned away.
The warmth of Kate's hand on his cheek startled him from his dark reverie, and he found his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes met hers, almost black in the dim light.
"I'm sorry, Gary. I didn't mean to remind you, I, I..." Her voice trailed off, and, her hand dropping slowly, she swung away from him, back to the river. His cheek suddenly cold where her hand had been, Gary surprised himself by catching her hand before she could pull it way completely.
"You didn't," he said, willing her to accept his words as she looked back over her shoulder at him. "It, it, it's just, it wasn't that long ago." His heart was at it again, pounding as she smiled slowly, sadly, then pulled her hand free as she snuggled deeper into his coat, staring out over the river. Gary took a step toward her, hesitantly reaching for her shoulder. He didn't know why, she just looked like she needed to be touched. Kate started when his hand made contact, then reached up to touch it before he could pull it away. Head down, she spoke without turning around.
"Trevor had an affair. Several of them, if I can believe what he told me. I was the last one to know, the last one to find out. The woman he left me for was a partner at his law firm. Everybody knew but me. He laughed at me when I confronted him about it, when I finally found out. Laughed and said that fidelity was never part of the deal that we made."
Gary stared at her, his throat working to get the words past his shock, past the naked pain her words had bared in her soul.
"D-d-deal? What deal?"
Her laugh was bitter.
"That's what I asked. He said marriage was a deal like any other, and he treated it as such. He only did what he had to to get ahead in the world, and if that meant sleeping with someone besides me, he'd do it. I told him I never saw it that way, and he said it was my loss. I, I got mad, I was furious with him, just standing there laughing at me, for humiliating me, and I picked up a coffee cup and threw it at him."
Gary didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue, not sure what to say. Marcia had her moments, but at least she had been faithful to him. At least, he thought she had. She had gotten engaged to Pritchard awfully quickly after their divorce, though. His free hand clenched at his side, Gary shook his head and forced himself to relax. He really did not want to think about the fact Marcia might not have been faithful.
When Kate spoke again, Gary had to strain to hear her, in spite of how close they stood.
"I never meant to hurt him, never meant... I, I, I just wanted him to stop laughing at me." Shifting uneasily, Gary wondered if his hand was really burning on her shoulder the way he felt like it was. Kate didn't seem to notice, continuing in that same, low tone. "I, I, I never said anything to anyone about that night, I never wanted..." It sounded like she was having trouble getting the words out. She gulped, and tried again. "I missed. I was never a very good shot, not at anything. It just broke all over the floor behind him. He, he got so mad... He just blew up. I mean, he'd come at me before, but not like..."
Shuddering, she jerked away from his hand and took several steps away from Gary. He followed her a second later, frowning, not liking the implications in her words. He reached out to take her elbow and turn her around to face him, to talk to him. As he grasped her arm from behind, she cried out and pulled away from him... No, she *cringed* away from him, Gary realized, as if she was afra... Gary's heart dropped along with his hand as the sickening realization suddenly hit him. My God, had Trevor...?
"Kate?" His voice was gentle. Shivering, she didn't answer, didn't face him. Hesitantly, he put his hand up and rested it lightly on her shoulder. She jumped, but she didn't pull away this time, letting him draw her around to face him. Her eyes were closed and tears were streaming down her face. Gary gathered her in his arms and held her close as she sobbed. Moments later, her crying eased, she shifted her head slightly so she could talk, but she didn't step away from his embrace.
"I thought he was going to kill me-" her voice broke and she trembled. Arms still around her, Gary felt his anger rising along with the desire to ease her pain anyway he could. Much as this was distressing her, he had to know for sure. Holding her shoulders, he pushed her back from him just enough so he could see her face.
"Kate, what are you talking about? What did Trevor do to you?"
She wouldn't look at him. Gulping, she finally offered, in a very small voice, "He hit me."
Gary's first thought was exactly how he'd spend a few minutes alone with Trevor Howard. He'd show him just what he thought about a man who would hit a woman, any woman, let alone the one shivering in his arms. Kate's voice interrupted his planning.
"I guess I finally blacked out, because when I woke up, he was gone. The only time I saw him after that was at the lawyer's office." She pushed away from Gary, distancing herself from him in every way as she turned to face the river again. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I never told anyone before."
"Why? Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you call the police?"
She gave a tiny shrug.
"It was part... part of our lives. Every once in a while, he'd get ticked and deck me, and then he'd feel really bad and be really sweet, really wonderful for a while. I'd have the man I married back. But then, things would get sour again, and, and... I don't know. I guess I just kept hoping that one of these times he'd stay sweet. Stay wonderful." Kate hung her head, grasping his coat and pulling it around her - as if to shield herself from him, Gary realized, stepping up close to her again. She kept talking, not facing him.
"When you live with someone like that, live in fear everyday of what they'll do to you if say something or do something wrong, after a while you don't think straight any more. You start thinking it is your fault, and you believe them when they say it is, and even if you can't believe it, you don't deserve anything better because you're stupid enough to put up with it in the first place." She glanced at him with a stony smile. " 'Infinite are the arguments of mages.' And the excuses you can come up with in a situation like I found myself trapped in. My family is all overseas, I knew almost no one outside of our social circle, had no friends of my own, really. There was nowhere I could go, no one to turn to for help."
Gary found himself wishing she had come to him.
She shook her head, her earrings tossing and twinkling.
"It was the infidelity that finally brought it all home to me. That and that last night."
"You, you, you said you blacked out? How bad did he hurt you?" Gary's hands were clenched again, and this time he didn't bother trying to relax.
"I don't know. Like I said, I never called anybody. The next few days are pretty fuzzy, though. I just stayed home in bed. He didn't come back and I didn't open the door until my bags were packed and I was leaving. It was almost a week later, after, after..."
Completely flustered, Gary stared about him, mentally groping for something to say, something to do, while Kate just stared out over the river in silence. He'd wondered about her divorce, but never had he imagined anything like this. She turned to look at him finally.
"I, I guess I just wanted you to know. This is where I've been. It's the past, and I'm beyond it, but sometimes, sometimes I remember it, whether I want to or not." She was having trouble meeting his eyes. "You're special, Gary. You always have been. We were all jealous of Marcia when you two started going out." That shocked him. Why? Marcia had chased him, and he had never really understood what she saw in him. Especially, he realized abruptly, after she spent so much of their marriage trying to make him into whatever or whomever she thought it was she wanted. He never had quite figured out what it was that he was supposed to be for her.
Kate was still talking. "The last few months with you have been the happiest I can remember. Better than with Trevor. I've..." Blushing, she looked away, then back up at him.
As their eyes met, he was shocked at the emotion he saw there. Pain, yes, he could still see the hurt that Trevor had caused her, and he was torn between wanting to comfort Kate, and wanting time alone with that husband of hers, but there was more in her eyes than that. Much more. Without speaking, Gary held out his hand, and she took it, not resisting as he pulled her close, put his arms around her and kissed her. Not the gentle, shy kisses they'd exchanged previously, but a kiss infused with all the passion and emotion she had stirred in him these last few months. Kate literally melted against him, and Gary was shocked at the surrender he could feel in her. Surrender to him, to...
They both pulled away, their eyes searching one another's. Kate hesitated, then...
"Gary... I, I don't... Much as I, much as... I can't do this if it just means tonight."
Gary knew he couldn't either. Knew suddenly he wanted not just tonight and all the nights to come with Kate, but the days, the hours, the moments, all the secret intimacies that a marriage brings, intimacy beyond the mere physical act of marriage. He swallowed, as Kate waited to hear his response.
"It, it, it means more. A whole lot more." He couldn't say the rest, not yet. She had to know about the paper first. "And, and, there's a couple of things you need to know about me, too."
* * * * *
The slight rustle of the newspaper in Kate's hands was barely audible above the soft music playing in the background of her apartment. They had walked here in silent agreement; Gary not even wanting to think about trying to get in the front door of McGinty's without someone - probably Chuck - noticing them. She turned on a single lamp by the overstuffed couch when they came in, and he'd loaded a few cd's in the player while she poured wine in the kitchen - wine that sat untouched on the coffee table in front of them. Then, kicking off her shoes, Kate had settled down on the couch where he joined her. It took him a few minutes to wind up, to get started, but once he had gotten going, it had all come out - everything about the paper and the cat it came with and what they had done to his life.
Now she sat, staring at the headline which read MIDDLE EAST PEACE IN DANGER AGAIN. One arm up on the back of the couch, Gary shifted uneasily next to her. Kate hadn't said anything as he talked, awkwardly in spite of his best efforts; there really wasn't any way to say it other than straight out: "I get tomorrow's newspaper today, and spend my days going around trying to change the headlines before they're actually even set." He had given her the paper as he spoke; her eyes grew round when he pointed out the date, but she said nothing.
Reaching up to rub one finger across the date, she was still silent. Watching her in the soft glow cast by the lamp next to them, Gary was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake, if she hadn't believed him after all. She might think the paper was a gag he'd had printed up... no, when he'd told her he needed to talk to her about the paper, she smiled and commented she'd noticed he was somewhat attached to his news. Then she sat and listened to his unbelievable tale. He found it hard to believe himself, and he'd been dealing with the darn thing for almost two years now. The paper and the cat. That darn cat made the whole thing harder to believe than the paper all by itself. Why the stupid thing had to come with a cat, he had no idea. He'd given up on trying to figure that out a long time ago.
Lost in his thoughts, staring out the darkened windows of her apartment, Gary didn't realize for a moment that Kate had turned to him. As he returned his attention to the matter at hand, he couldn't stop the nauseous feeling that rose in his stomach. What if she *didn't* believe him? Accused him of lying, of making it up? What if she laughed at him? Gary swallowed, then anxiously met her eyes.
She wasn't laughing. Eyes bright, Kate looked more like she might cry. She brushed his hair back with one hand, the other hand clutching the paper.
"There's not one man in a hundred thousand in this city that would know what to do with this, and fewer still that would do it if they knew." She spoke fiercely... protectively. Gary stared at her. Inwardly braced for ridicule and rejection, he didn't quite know what to do with wholesale acceptance. Kate wasn't done.
"But you do. You know what to do, and what's more, you have the courage to do it." Her gaze grew serious, she touched his cheek lightly with her hand, drawing her fingers down his jaw line and out to his chin before she let go. Gary's stomach flipped at that, and it was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing her hand as she dropped it her lap. Kate shook her head.
"This can't be an easy thing. I see that in your eyes. It's a hard thing to do, to give your life for something you don't understand. To make these choices, day after day. But it's you, Gary. It fits you. With this," and she lifted the paper slightly from her lap and smiled, slowly, crookedly. Gary hadn't thought his heart could beat any faster than it already was beating, but he was wrong. "With this, you have a purpose in life as grand and big as your heart."
She was proud of him. Fervently proud of him, if her tone of voice meant anything. Gary flushed, looked away, one leg now bouncing nervously. He didn't know what to do now. But Kate did. Gary turned to her as, setting the paper on floor, she shifted closer and put her arms around his neck.
"I told you you were special, Gary Hobson."
Gary hated to extinguish that smile of hers, but he could definitely think of better things to do than just sit here and look at those lips. His arm dropped off the back of the couch and curved around her shoulders, his other hand coming up to cup her chin as they kissed.
But there were still some things that needed to be said, before... well, before they did something either one of them would regret. Kate seemed to understand this was a package deal, him and the paper and the cat, but she also had to know that this evening, this night before them wasn't something he could just do and then walk away from. She'd said she couldn't do this if it just meant tonight. Gary knew he couldn't do it if it didn't mean all the nights to come.
Pulling away for a moment, his arm still around her, he allowed himself to trace the soft curve where her neck and jawline met as he spoke.
"You, you said you wanted this to mean more than just tonight." She nodded minutely, her eyes huge in the half light. He swallowed, and dropped his hand to grasp hers where it lay in her lap. How had he done this with Marcia? It had been a big production, a fancy restaurant, a ring that he had barely paid off before she threw him out. But then that was Marcia: one big production, all the way around. Kate, she didn't need all that. At least, he didn't think she did. Might as well find out.
Holding her hand, studying their intertwined fingers, Gary looked up and found her gaze on him.
"I want this to mean you'll always be mine. Every night. And, and, every day. All day. I, I, I..." Her eyes were electric, intense and Gary was painfully aware of every breath she took in that turquoise dress. Swallowing - he seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight - Gary tried again. "I- I -I love you. You said Trevor was your mistake; Marcia was mine. If, if I had had any smarts, I would have taken you to the party that night instead of Marcia. I almost did. But, now, now, you're here, and I, I figure this is the chance I missed out on before. Not too many people get a second opportunity to do things right when they didn't take it the first time around. This time I don't intend to miss out. This isn't a deal, it's a relationship. A marriage. I won't cheat on you, or hurt you, not like Trevor. That is, if you'll have me... with the paper." Gary nodded at the tabloid on the floor as he finished.
Kate didn't say anyting for a minute. Eyes closed, her face was suddenly pale, and she looked like she was trying not to laugh or cry, Gary wasn't sure which. After a minute he grew concerned, and shifted his arm a bit on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open at that, brimming with unshed tears, and Gary didn't understand the hurt that he saw mingled there with the joy, and some other emotion he couldn't identify right away. His brows furrowed in concern, he opened his mouth, but Kate shook her head before he could say anything.
"No.. I, I mean, yes. Yes." Her gaze was direct, certain. "I love you too. Yes."
The joy banished the other emotions it had warred with for possession
of her face, and Gary found himself smiling in return. Then they were
both laughing and he held her tightly, not letting her go for a long time
afterward. Gary softly rubbed his cheek against satin smoothness of
Kate's hair as she settled deeper into his embrace, her head resting against
his chest and shoulder as if it was always meant to be there. A moment
for a different kind of passion, they savored it togther.
"Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair."
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair."
---William Butler Yeats
Part 4
A few minutes later, Gary reached up and tugged one of the bright objects from Kate's hair. His instinct on the bridge had been right, for as he did so it tumbled down about her shoulders and over his arm in a silky cloud, releasing a tantalizing vanilla fragrance about them as it fell. The first hair pin tossed on the coffee table, his free hand searched for the other pin in the honey-colored mass surrounding them, while the other pulled Kate closer yet to him. Objective accomplished, he pitched the second pin in the general direction of the first one, his hand returning to bury itself in her hair as his lips found hers. Softly, almost hesitantly, they kissed, the passion they had checked earlier on the bridge bubbling just beneath the surface - and so too the surrender promised in the willingness of her lips beneath his.
Gary released Kate with his arm, shifting to sit facing her on the couch and bringing one hand now to her face, the other still lost in her hair, holding her to him as their kisses became more urgent. She reached up to brush his cheek and his stomach tightened as she drew her fingers slowly down his jaw, then down his neck to tug at his tie. Loosened already, it was quickly discarded, and her fingers busied themselves with the buttons on his shirt. Gary's hands now dropped to her neck, caressing the curves there, following one out to her shoulder where he found the material of her dress slipped freely down, shifting its neckline just enough to reveal the first swelling of one breast. Kate gasped as he brushed the back of his hand across it. Fingers faltering, she broke away from him, turning aside. One hand flew up to cover her mouth as if to prevent herself from crying out. Her hair was down around her face so that Gary couldn't see her eyes; what he could see of her face was pale and set.
"Kate?" One hand still lightly resting at the junction of her neck and shoulder, Gary tried to turn her face towards him with the other hand on her chin. Confused at her resistance, he stroked her cheek, but she didn't respond. Gary moved so he sat next to her. His arm went around her; he realized she was shaking, shivering, and his concern grew. What monsters had he accidently conjured for her this time? "Kate?"
With a deep breath, Kate finally looked up at him, and with a sick drop of his stomach to his toes Gary identified the unknown emotion he hadn't been able to before: Fear. Kate was afraid. Of him?
"We, we, we don't have to do this, if you don't want to," he offered, reaching for her hand. She grabbed his hand tightly between both of hers, closing her eyes and shaking her head vehemently at the same time.
"No... that's, that's not..." swallowing, once more not meeting his eyes, she traced his fingers where they intertwined with hers for a moment. Gary waited, holding her close as her shivering slowly eased, then kissing her temple gently. This was not something he wanted to mess up, and if that meant waiting a little while, he could do that. He pushed her away enough that he could see her face.
"Kate, I don't want either one of us to do anything we'll regret. It's all right with me if..." She shook her head again, leaning back against him, and Gary subsided, studying her in silence. What he really wanted, he realized, was to make whatever monsters inhabited Kate's memories go away. Forever. Along with a chance to tell Trevor Howard just what he thought of him. Trevor... Before he could follow that thought through, not that he was sure he wanted to, Kate looked up and smiled at him, her demons at least partially banished.
"As if I would ever regret being loved by you." Kate kissed him as she spoke, but Gary could feel the struggle within her, as her desire for him fought to surmount whatever fears his touch had summoned.
This time, he broke the kiss, and held her gently so she couldn't turn away from him. Seeing the question in his eyes, she closed hers, took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again. The monsters were back.
"It's just, just, with Trevor - not that I was with Trevor that often," she amended with a breathless, bitter laugh. Then somberly, not looking at Gary, she went on. "At the end, the last year or so, it... it's just that he took what he wanted pretty much when he wanted and it never really mattered to him how I felt about any of it."
Gary didn't have to ask. The truth was in her eyes as they finally met his, as she finally opened the last dark place in her soul to him. He knew his own sorrow and anger was as obvious to her, and there wasn't any need for words as he pulled her close and held her. Moments later, releasing her, he reached out and pulled her dress back up over her shoulder, prepared to apologize - for what he wasn't sure, maybe just for what she went through with that animal she wound up with for a husband. He figured it would probably be best if he went on home. Kate needed... he wasn't sure exactly what she needed, but Gary knew he wasn't about to do what Trevor had done to her, and just take what he wanted - without any thought for Kate.
Kate stopped him, her hand on his chin, her eyes bright, intense again, the fear not quite entirely replaced by something else now, her love for him, he realized, coupled with a longing he understood all too well.
"Gary, I lost the love I had with Trevor. I lost what it feels like to love a man with my entire being, heart and mind and body, and have him love me back the same way. Trevor took that from me, took away the love we shared. You've offered it back to me, all of it, only better, because it's with you now, and I know you'll never do what he did or be what he was. I'm tired of being afraid and broken and alone. When I think about being with someone now, I want it to be you. I want to know what it's like again, to love someone that completely." She paused, searching his face for confirmation that he understood what she was saying. Reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair, she finished softly, "I want you to be the one to show me that kind of love again. I want you to do it tonight."
Her gaze met his steadily, but Gary waited for a minute, wanting her to be sure, wanting this to be the right decision for both of them. Then, with a deep breath, he smiled at her.
"I think I can do that."
No more monsters crawled out from anywhere to interrupt after that. Gary stood, pulling Kate up with him. They kissed, her hands busy pulling at his shirt and finding the last buttons to undo while his caressed her neck and shoulders then pulled her close when she finished his shirt and he went looking for buttons or zippers or something on the back of her dress. He found a couple of buttons, and managed to undo them without too much trouble. Letting go of Kate long enough for her to help him shed his shirt and t-shirt, he tugged the loosened bodice of her dress down, exposing most of her decolletage to his touch. Her hands caressing his chest and shoulders, he gently slipped his hands inside the material to cup the fullness of her breasts, Kate's breath coming in a great indrawn gasp as he did so - only this time she didn't pull away, didn't retreat, and Gary spared one hand to pull her to him tightly and kiss her again, firmly, before looking for whatever fastener would get the rest of her dress out of their way.
Catching his eye, Kate smiled impishly, and put his free hand on her left side, just behind and below her breast. Smiling in return, Gary kissed her as he pulled the zipper he found there down. Eyes wide, he stepped back in shock as she shrugged and the dress slipped down into a puddle of material at her feet. She stood there with nothing on but a pair of silky underpants, of indeterminate color in the dim light. Gary could see... Kate giggled, and that did intriguing things to her visible anatomy. Flushing, he stared at her for a moment before meeting her gaze again, her face puckish as she smiled.
"It's um, it's kind of all built in with that dress."
"I, I, I can, I can see that." Shaking his head, his face hot, Gary
had to smile back. Then he took her hand and she stepped away from the
dress completely and he pulled her slowly to the floor with him, the remainder
of their clothing scattered about them as they went. Strangers yet,
Gary couldn't shake the picture of Kate's fear moments ago, and his touch
was slow, his kisses gentle, his presence healing. Suddenly, between
one caress and the next, Gary felt the remnant of her fear flee. Halting
for the moment, his hazel eyes met hers, assurance sought and received in
tandem. Smiling, Kate reached for him, pulling him to her as she slid
beneath him, welcoming him with her entire being. Awkward and disjointed
at first, their love gradually found its own rhythm, it's own music, Kate's
surrender everything and more that had been promised at the bridge as the
night narrowed to nothing but the sharing of their flesh and the mingling
of their souls.
" I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams..."
---William Butler Yeats
*Plop!*
"Mreeow!"
Shifting his head on the unfamiliar pillow, for a minute Gary couldn't remember where he was. Tightly drawn shades hindered the morning sun, shafts of light lancing around their edges cris-crossed the rust-colored walls of the bedroom, weaving a lattice pattern across the field workers in the one print hanging in the room. The top of the dresser it hung above was a jumble of wadded up clothes and pictures of mostly smiling people. Facing him on the bedside table was an old fashioned brass wind-up alarm clock with those annoying bells on top; a stack of books perched precariously on the edge of the table next to it. Gary wasn't sure which of the two would the best - or worst - wake up call, the alarm itself, or the books hitting the floor. He'd just noticed the weight across his chest when it moved. As he identified Kate's arm, draped across him from behind, memory came flooding back. Rolling over, Gary found Kate looking at him quizzically.
"Gary? What is it?"
His breath caught in his throat as he remembered all of the night before, not just the first time they made love. Without speaking, he reached for Kate. She came willingly, sliding between the smooth cotton sheets into his embrace. Last night, never able to completely put aside Kate's experiences with Trevor, Gary had felt a certain need for restraint on his part. Their lovemaking had been incredible, but tender and gentle. This morning, Kate's response to his touch made it plain that restraint was the last thing she wanted from him. She kissed him deeply, hungrily, her caresses leaving scorching trails on his skin as her hands roamed over him. His hands busy with her curves in return, their legs entwined as Gary pulled Kate tightly to him and --
"Mreeow!"
"Oh my God!" Kate's eyes were huge as she pulled away from him, and Gary turned to find Snow's cat sitting primly next to him on the dark green sheet. Unimpressed, the cat blinked at him, jumping off the bed and onto the nightstand just as Gary grabbed for it. Clock and books went flying, everything including Snow's cat landing on the floor in a series of thumps. Bells shrilling in its wake, the cat ran across the bare floor and disappeared into the main room of Kate's apartment. The pillow Gary launched after it landed with an impotent plop against the half open door behind it.
"You just can't give it a rest, can you? Not even one morning? Not even *this* morning?" The object of his ire safely beyond his reach, Gary laid face down against the sheets for just a second, cursing the cat and all its ancestors and all its progeny forever. He just couldn't win. Not against the cat, and certainly not against the paper. The alarm bells jangled as he searched for the off switch, then he rolled back over in the sudden silence. The bed sheet she clutched to her chest only partially obscuring her nudity, Kate sat upright, staring after the cat. Gary swore again. Damn that cat, anyway.
"Is that, that...." Words failing her, Kate pointed in the general direction the cat had taken.
"Yeah. It's the cat. With the newspaper. At least, the newspaper is probably somewhere around here too." And the cat's appearance meant he should probably get up and retrieve the paper, especially if it was outside her door. Sulkily refusing to jump to the cat's demands this morning, Gary stayed put, one hand lightly stroking Kate's back as he watched her grapple with its presence in her apartment. When he'd decided to stay late last night, he'd gambled that either the cat would have no problem finding him here, or, if not, he'd get home in time to deal with anything that came up in the paper. But secretly Gary had really hoped to have the morning to spend with Kate. He should have known better by now.
"Your cat? With the newspaper you told me about last night?"
"It's not my cat," Gary responded automatically. "But yeah, he comes with the newspaper. Every morning..." He paused, watching the effects on Kate's figure as she reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. His fingers itched to do that for her, among other things he remembered from last night.
"But, how did it find you here? How--"
"MREEOW!"
Gary sighed, flinging back the sheet and the plaid comforter to search briefly for his clothes before he remembered: he'd left them in the living room last night. Kate's amusement was obvious as she grabbed a folded towel from a laundry basket next to the bed and handed it to him.
Taking the heavy blue towel, Gary stood and wrapped it around his waist.
"I don't know how it finds me. I don't know how it found me to begin with. If I knew, it wouldn't find me. At least, I'd get a morning or two to sleep in now and then." Gary secured the towel and turned toward the door of her bedroom.
"Oh, right, like you planned on sleeping in this morning." Kate lay back on the bed and stretched luxuriously, the covers falling down to her waist as she did so.
Grinning, Gary pointed at her.
"You, you, you just knock that off. I just might be right back and then you'll be sorry--" He made a hasty exit from the cluttered bedroom as Kate laughingly threw the last pillow from her bed after him.
Kate's turquoise dress was still crumpled on the navy rug where she had shrugged it off last night. Making his way across the main living area, Gary couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face at the sight of it. He gathered his own clothes up as he went, dumping them all in a pile on Kate's couch before turning toward the business at hand. Glaring at the cat where it sat beside the door in a tall, straight-backed oaken chair, he barked his shin against the wooden frame of Kate's upholstered rocker. Swearing as he hopped briefly on one foot, Gary shot the cat another lethal look. Tail twitching impatiently, the cat mreeowed and pawed at the door knob.
Gary checked the towel before sparing the animal one more disgusted glare. Opening the door just a crack, he checked first for neighbors who might be early risers. No sense embarrassing Kate if he could avoid it. The coast was clear, and the paper sat there on the doorstep, looking for all the world as if it belonged there. One hand holding the towel at his waist, he opened the door wider and bent over to grab the tabloid. At the same moment the door across the hall opened. Gary froze, his eyes coming up to meet the curious gaze of an elderly lady. About Kate's height, slim and dressed in a blue jogging suit, she had a small backpack in her hand.
"Good morning." She smiled benignly at him.
"Uh, um, good, good morning." Gary's first thought was just how grateful he was that Kate liked the large bath sheets, not the smaller, regular sized bath towels.
"Yes, it is. Tell Kate that I'm still expecting her for lunch today, if you don't mind." Eyes twinkling, she couldn't have missed the flush that was stealing up his cheeks.
"I, I, I'll do that, ma'am."
Nodding the woman stepped out and locked her door with the key. Turning to Gary, she smiled again, her amusement at his predicament obvious.
"You know, you could hurt your back if you stand like that for too long."
"What? Oh. Y-y-yes ma'am."
"Good morning Mrs. D'Amato." Gary jumped, finally standing up straight as Kate, wrapped in a short flowered robe, one hand holding it closed tightly around her neck, stepped up beside him. "What time did you want me to meet you?"
"Oh, would 11 o'clock be too early? I had hoped to show you the Chagall windows before we ate." Mrs. D'Amato smiled at Gary. "Can you believe that in all the years she's lived in Chicago, she's never seen the those windows?"
Gary shook his head. He wasn't even going to try to say anything.
"That sounds great, Mrs. D'Amato." Kate's cheeks were scarlet. "I'll be there."
Nodding, the elderly woman headed down the hall, turning back to them after just a few steps.
"You two kids enjoy your morning."
"We will, Mrs. D'Amato," Kate responded automatically, then flushed even redder as she realized what she'd said.
Pulling Gary into her apartment as Mrs. D'Amato disappeared around the corner toward the elevator, Kate closed the door and collapsed against it in a fit of giggles. Released from her grip, the robe slid tantalizingly down her shoulders, revealing her cleavage, but not much else. Gary's breath caught in his throat again, and he was lost momentarily in the memories of the night they had just shared. He only half heard Kate's next comment.
"Well that's done it. You *have* to marry me and make an honest woman out of me now. Mrs. D'Amato will never let you off the hook after this." Looking up when he didn't respond, Kate followed his line of sight, and tugged her robe shut with a laugh.
"Shouldn't you be looking at that instead?"
"Huh?" Confused, Gary found himself on the receiving end of Kate's laughter as she watched him flounder back to the present. She walked up beside him and pushed the paper, forgotten in his hand, up against his chest.
"Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should." He looked from her to the paper, reluctantly choosing the latter.
Kate brushed a kiss across his cheek as she headed for the kitchen. Gary reluctantly shook the paper open. The front head lines were all political or world news, nothing for him to do. Through the open wall from the living area he could see Kate rummaging in the kitchen, and he paused his inspection of the paper long enough to watch her setting water on to boil for coffee. Sunlight from the large windows behind her brought the honey-colored highlights out in her hair, and Gary stared at her, his thoughts and emotions suddenly in turmoil. That Kate had been willing to not only spend last night with him, but to accept him and his life with the paper... Kate looked up as she poured the beans into the grinder and caught his eye. Gary returned her smile before turning to quickly scan the rest of the pages. He could get used to this. No, he was *going* to get used to this.
The earliest item he could find requiring his attention was an accident at a construction site downtown. The paper listed the accident as happening at 9:45. Checking the antique clock ticking alone on the wall in Kate's dining area, Gary realized that left him almost 3 hours. He looked over the paper, staring suspiciously at the cat curling around his feet.
"Just what are you trying to prove?" he asked it quietly. The cat looked up at him and mreeowed once, before running into the kitchen. Pulling a chair out, Gary sat at the dining table with the paper, taking the time to read it thoroughly now. In the kitchen, Kate was telling the cat she only had milk, and that would have to do until she could get some real cat food. Nope, his first quick run-through had been right. There were a few things for him to do this afternoon, but nothing this morning until the construction site accident. The smell of coffee grabbed his attention, and he looked up to find Kate standing beside him with two steaming mugs. Gary took the one she offered him, folding the paper and setting it down on the tile table top as he did so. He took a drink, then stood, taking her coffee and setting both mugs next to the paper.
"You got anything in there you need to turn off?"
The question in her eyes quickly replaced by comprehension, she smiled, wordlessly shaking her head. Gary took her hand and kissed it, before pulling her with him toward the bedroom, the cat unnoticed at their heels. Stopping beside the bed, Gary untied her robe and slipped it off her shoulders before taking her in his arms.
"Since there's no use trying to go back to sleep..." he murmured as he bent to kiss her. Kate laughed and put her arms around him as he kicked the door closed behind them, only to open it an instant later to shove the cat back out into the main room.
"You, you, you can just wait out here, you hear me?" Gary threatened the cat with one finger. "None of this disappearing reappearing stuff, either? Hear? Or there'll be a nasty surprise in your kitty litter box."
The cat said nothing, just sat and stared at the door long after it had closed.
Continued in part 2/3....
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Email the author: inkling@pcez.com
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