Freudian Slip (12 page)

“Hey…what's up? Did you call that Tobit guy?”

“Yes. As gorgeous as you said. As gay as you said.”

Mal laughed.

“Mal? I was wondering…where are you right now?”

“Nobu. I just ordered. I'm here with Teddy Weinberg. That guy from the architecture firm. Why don't you join us? We just ordered.”

Throat dry, barely able to speak, Kate stared down at the paper as the words swirled in front of her eyes.

“What'd you order?”

“The waiter talked me into fresh yellowtail. And Teddy has ordered us a round of mango saketinis. I'm actually on saketini number two right now, so they better bring our food soon or I'll be drunk.”

“Um…I don't know if I can make it. What are you wearing?”

“Not dressed. I have my Debbie Harry T-shirt on. Nothing special—though you know I love Blondie.”

“I know,” Kate managed to squeak.

“Come out with us. Please? It'll be good for you. Oh! And I can show you my new tattoo. I made Ted come with me. He chickened out. Said his parents would
still
kill him.” Mal laughed.

“You know, Mal? Maybe another time, okay?”

“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow, all right?”

“Sure thing.”

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. I'm okay. Love ya.”

Kate hung up.

I told you I was real. That doctor is a quack. I'm real, Kate.

She touched the paper, half-expecting the words to evaporate like disappearing ink. She folded the paper. Then she stood and put it in the freezer next to her good jewelry. Like some prized possession.

She was faced with two equally scary thoughts. One, that she was absolutely, positively insane.

Two, that she wasn't.

J
ULIAN HAD THE URGE
to push Kate's stepfather's comb-over until it flipped over the other way, almost like a convertible top. It was a hideous orangish color. Comb-over aside, the man was dressed impeccably. How a man could spend two thousand dollars for a suit and ignore that head of hair, Julian had no idea. But then, he thought, look at Donald Trump.

Julian sat next to Kate on the couch, his arm around her. He had whispered in her ear that he was there, hoping to impart her with strength. Kate fidgeted as her mother carried out a tray of finger sandwiches and wineglasses. Julian heard her murmur something about watercress. He hadn't even known there really was such a thing as a watercress sandwich, and for the first time since arriving in Neither Here Nor There, he was grateful that he couldn't eat.

A bottle of seventy-dollar chardonnay—Julian
had checked out the label—was chilling in a stainless ice bucket on the table. Human Comb-over was nursing a martini.

Julian surveyed the Long Island mansion Kate's mother now called home. It had a view of the water from the living room where they sat. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the room, and the lawn beyond the glass was impeccably landscaped. The furniture was uncomfortable. Louis the XIV kind of chairs and desks on gilded spindly legs. Heavy oriental carpets adorned the cream-colored marble floors, and art in heavy frames lined the walls. Ugly art, Julian decided, of people in Elizabethan clothes. And ducks. There were several mallards. The former Mrs. Darby had hit the jackpot. On the way over, Kate had told him that only a small portion of her newfound wealth was 9/11 settlement money. The rest belonged to her new husband. He was insanely rich. Hedge-fund rich. By attrition that made Mom rich. And Kate hated him, her, the house and anything to do with the whole charade.

“Well, I'm sorry to hear about David,” her mom said. “He was a catch.” She looked over at New Hubby and whispered indiscreetly, “He's very well-off, a Riverdale graduate. Then Yale. Successful book.”

Comb-over nodded.

“First of all, that book was a success because I took a chance on a first-time author. I saw the potential. Yes, he's a wonderful writer, but…I had a part in that, too.”

“Touché! Kate…I am impressed,” Julian whispered to her. “Well played.”

“I'm not saying anything about you, Kate. It's just a shame, that's all. He's really…you know, destined for great things, I think. You two had the potential to be a real New York literati power couple.”

“Well, I'm sorry, Mother,” Kate snapped. “But he couldn't keep his hands off my best friend, so…that's how it goes.”

Julian looked at Kate's profile and saw she carried herself a little taller, more confidently. Her voice was surer. Gus was completely wrong. It was
better
now that she knew he was there. Much better. She had an angel on her side—okay, technically not an angel, but something that gave her courage. If only every person could have a personal spiritual cheering section, he mused, perhaps the world would be a better place.

“So now what? Dating? You won't
ever
find someone as successful as David,” her mother said. The woman sat down on the couch opposite him and Kate, next to her husband. The Human Comb-over put a hand on Mrs. Darby's thigh and absent
mindedly moved his index finger back and forth. If Julian had a body, he would have puked.

Kate's mom was very attractive for an old broad. She wore her hair in a soft honey-blonde bob, and was dressed in crisp white linen pants and a pale lavender blouse. The rock this guy gave her was blinding. Julian resisted the urge to get up and go take a closer look. Besides, even from his vantage point, it was a friggin' hunk of flawless stone. A small boulder. Emerald cut. On her wrist was an equally blinding bracelet encrusted with red stones. Rubies?

Kate folded her arms. “Sorry, Mom. I don't aspire to all this
success.
” She uncrossed her arms and waved her hand to indicate the mansion.

“You tell her, Katie, Girl,” Julian said, pleased.

“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”

“Well, I wasn't raised to need wealth to be happy. I was raised by a fireman, Mom.”

Julian, staring at Kate closely, saw the slightest of trembles in her chin.

“This is so hard, Katie Girl, isn't it? So hard.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, watching as her lips slid into a small grin.

“Can you feel that?” he asked her. “Just give me a nod if you can feel it. Just a little nod of your head.”

Miraculously, she nodded.

He kissed her again. And again. Whatever bond
they had that Gus said was special or unusual, it was getting stronger. She felt him.

“Kate,” Human Comb-over said, “your mother has only your best interests at heart. She worries about you. We both do.”

Kate smiled wanly. “I don't need you to worry about me. Let's move on. Let's talk about something else.”

“Fine.” Her mother patted Comb-over's knee. “We want to know if you would like to go to Europe with us this Christmas. Our treat. We're going to fly in to London, and then spend some time in Paris. If we can, we'd like to squeeze in a short time in Lake Como, Italy. Martin has a client there, and we can use his villa.”

Kate stared at her mother. “No.”

“But you always wanted to go to Europe. Your whole life since you were a little girl.”

“I know. I wanted to go with you and
Daddy.
But I don't want to spend my Christmas holiday in Europe. I want to be here.”

“I'll take you to Europe, Katie Girl. We'll go together.” Julian had been to London several times. He hated the beer. Didn't like driving on the other side of the road. Didn't particularly like British chicks. But if Kate wanted to go to Europe, he'd suck it up.

Kate's mother shook her head. “This was Martin's idea. I told him how your father and I could never afford the trip, and he thought this might be a nice way for us all to spend time together.”

“Thanks, but I don't think so.”

Kate's mom stood and poured herself a full glass of wine. She drank half of it standing there by the wine bucket, and then refilled it to the top again.

“What are you doing for the anniversary, Mom?” Kate asked.

Julian whispered, “Katie Girl, don't break your heart anymore. Don't ask.”

But it was too late. Her mother glared at Kate. “What anniversary?”

“Nine-eleven, Mom. What do you mean? It's less than two weeks away.”

“I'm not going to do anything. Kate, I could have died on that day of a broken heart, but I chose to move on. I'm not going to memorialize it forever. I have a right to a life.”

“And you sure have one.” Kate stood up. So did Julian.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Mom. Look, can Martin's chauffeur take us…um, me…to the train station?”

“He's off today,” Martin said. “I'll drive you myself.”

Julian groaned. That was going to be a fun trip. But with no other option to get the train back to Manhattan, Kate nodded. She approached her mother. “I'm going to go, Mom. Talk to you soon.”

She leaned in to kiss her mother, who received the kiss stiffly, like she was the Queen Mother or something, Julian thought. He couldn't wait to get out of the house. It was like a mausoleum. A mausoleum for Louis the XIV.

Human Comb-over stood. “I'll get my keys.” He walked over to a delicate desk, opened a draw and held up the set. “Here we go.”

Kate followed him through the dining room, into the cavernous kitchen—all Subzero appliances and built-ins—and out to the garage. Julian whistled low. “Man!”

Kate nodded. The garage held six cars, one more fantastic than the next—a Jaguar, a Maserati, a Porche.

“Who knew Martin here liked sexy cars,” Julian said, running his hand along the shiny surface of a Cadillac. He looked down but couldn't see his reflection in the sheen. He looked at Kate. He wanted her to be able to see him.

Kate's stepfather led them to the Jag. Julian remembered Gus's advice about walking through doors, and found car doors were no dif
ferent from apartment doors.
Don't hesitate. Walk through.

Kate climbed in the front seat. She turned her head to peer in the back, and Julian whispered, “I'm here, Kate. Always here.”

She smiled and settled into her leather passenger seat. Her stepfather climbed behind the wheel, pressed a button to open the garage door, and pulled down the drive, out through an elaborate stone and wrought-iron gate, and off the mansion's property. Kate looked out the window. Julian put a hand on her shoulder.

“Kate, I'm very sorry this visit didn't turn out quite how your mother hoped. How I'm sure you hoped,” Comb-over offered.

“It's all right.” Kate waved her hand.

“No, it's not.” Human Comb-over glanced over at Kate. “I wanted to drive you to the train station. That's why my chauffeur has the day off. I wanted to say something to you.”

Kate stiffened.

“I don't have any false pretenses. Your father was the love of your mother's life.”

“She has a weird way of showing that.”

“Maybe not so strange. I think she wanted to go on living again, somehow, after he died. But I don't think she wanted to ever, ever lose someone she
loved that much again. She loves me, but it's in a different way. You get to be in your sixties, and it's love, but it's a different quality of love. Like fine wine that's aged somehow.”

Kate glanced over at him.

“I know the anniversary is coming up. And so does she. And when she thinks about the horrible day, it's all she can do to hold it together, so she reacts the way she did today.”

Kate's mouth dropped open slightly. “This is the most you've ever said to me.”

“I'm a man of few words,” he joked. “I'm all action.”

Kate smiled. “I can't just forget my dad. I can't live in some fancy place with no sign he ever existed. All the things they owned. Our whole house. It's like it blew up in the ash that day, too.”

“Maybe it did, Kate. But sometimes, to survive, people do that. Blow up their old lives and try to stumble through the fire toward a new one.”

“Maybe.” Kate looked out the window as the train station came into view.

“And for the record, Kate, don't marry David, no matter what your mother says. Marry the man who's worth risking it all for. Marry that one, whenever he comes along.”

“Amen, Brother,” Julian said.

Martin pulled the car to a stop and put it in Park. “Have a safe trip back to the city, Kate.”

“Don't worry, we will,” Julian said.

“Thanks, Martin.”

Kate hesitated, then kissed Comb-over on the cheek and exited the car. Julian jumped through his door and fell in step beside her.

“Where are you?” she whispered.

“To your right.”

“So how horrific was that?”

“Horrific. Scale of one to ten, it was an eleven.”

“Exactly.”

“But the house was horrific. That spindly furniture. However, Martin was surprisingly human on the drive. And…well, what he said made a lot of sense, don't you think?”

She nodded. “My life feels pretty blown up lately. I honestly understand why she…has done what she's done. I just wish she had said all that to me, not him. She and I have never been close. She's not awful. She's just…never been the mother I wanted, I guess. And Martin? I barely know him.”

“Yes, but even the Human Comb-over thinks you should hold out for someone perfect for you, Katie Girl.”

“Like you?” She glanced in his direction.

Julian felt trapped for a moment, but then felt
as if the bars of a cage had been opened. “Yes. Someone like me. Someone who will never tire of watching you when you sleep.” He almost couldn't believe the words himself. Julian Shaw. Hooked on a girl.

“Jules?”

“Yes, Katie Girl?”

“Hold my hand.”

Julian took her hand in his, caressing the top of her hand with his thumb. “Can you feel me?”

“No, but just knowing it makes me feel better.”

“Me, too.”

A few of the people scattered along the concrete platform were watching Kate.

“They think you're talking to yourself.”

“Maybe I am.”

“But you know you're not. I'm here. You felt me kiss you.”

“It felt like an itch.” She giggled. “I swear. It made me laugh.” She looked his way again. “Tell me more about who you are. That way I'll listen and won't have to talk and have people think I'm crazy.”