Heart of the Matter (11 page)

“Sandra,” Kate said.

“Sorry?” Ellen asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Kate replied. “So, I take it all went well last night?” She tried to seem lighthearted and upbeat, but the grin twisted into a smirk. At least someone’s life was moving forward.

Ellen blushed. “Yes, thanks. I have to get ready for work, but how about having dinner with me tonight and we can talk about it?

Talk about what we need to do while I’m away, that is.” This time Kate really did smile. She found Ellen very attractive when she was embarrassed. Especially when her face flushed and she stumbled around her words. “Fine, I’ll see you then.” Kate returned to her condo and closed the door. Either Ellen didn’t have a good time last night or she was very good at hiding her feelings.

❖

As the last student left the classroom, Ellen collected all the term papers and headed for her office. She glanced at her watch and knew Jenny would be dropping by in about an hour. It was Ellen’s last class before finals week and the weight was beginning to lift from her shoulders at the thought of getting on the road soon. She was looking forward to walking the battlefields of Virginia again, hearing the cannon, smelling the gunpowder, if only in her mind.

Often she felt she had been born in the wrong time period.

The present always left her feeling a little out of place and unsure of herself. The past felt more like home, like where she belonged.

She was completely at ease among those relics, which was why she probably excelled at research.

She fumbled for her keys to her office just as Linda Cohen came out of hers and asked, “Last class over?”

“Yes, thank God. I’m waiting for Jenny now.”

“Well, my last class isn’t until one. Do you have time for a quick bite?”

“I brought lunch, but there’s plenty. Come on in.” They sat at Ellen’s desk and munched carrot and celery sticks, Melba toast, tuna fish, and fruit.

“If I’d known you’d brought rabbit food, I would’ve suggested going out.” Linda examined a celery stick suspiciously.

“And therein lies my problem,” Ellen complained, patting her stomach. “We go out to eat and I always wind up getting something bad for me.”

“You don’t call this stuff bad?” Linda asked incredulously.

“Unless, of course…you’re getting in shape for Ms. Powell.” Ellen waved the comment away without answering. She was hoping Linda wouldn’t pursue the subject, but she knew better.

“Come on, dish. You had dinner with her last night…and then?”

Try as she might, Ellen couldn’t help but expose all she felt on her face. She had never been a good liar, which got her into more trouble than she cared to remember.

“You slept with her. You dog.”

“Shh.” Ellen always tried to be cautious when students were around. “Not so loud.”

“How was it?” Linda lowered her voice and grabbed a bunch of grapes.

“It was…nice.” Ellen winced, knowing that wasn’t exactly the word she was searching for.

“Nice? Nice?” Linda sat back in her chair, a disappointed frown on her face.

“Well, it was,” Ellen insisted. “But…oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s been so long I was scared more than anything else.”

“Scared? Scared of what? Look, Ellen, you’re out of practice, that’s all. But honey, it’s like riding a bike. You just get back on and start pedaling, and before you know it, you’re coasting.” Ellen stared at her blankly. “I don’t quite get the analogy.”

“Whatever.” Linda shrugged. “You know what I mean.” Fortunately Ellen was saved by a knock on the door. At Ellen’s invitation Jenny stepped in and Linda jumped up.

“Hi, Jenny. Gotta run to my class, we’ll talk later,” she said pointedly to Ellen.

“Have a seat, Jenny. You all ready for finals?” Jenny slumped in the chair across from Ellen’s desk, her gaze focused on the floor. When she looked up, Ellen noticed she could barely keep her composure.

“Jenny? What is it?”

Jenny’s face crumpled and she buried her face in her hands.

Ellen got up and closed the door, then knelt beside Jenny’s chair.

She smoothed her hair down her back and coaxed her into talking.

Between sobs, Jenny managed to divulge that her father’s health, which had always been precarious, had worsened. She had a younger brother in high school, and her mother had asked her to come home to Connecticut to help out. Hopefully she would only have to stay through the summer, and once her father improved she could return to school in the fall to continue her research for her thesis.

“I’m so sorry to cancel out on you at the last minute.” Jenny sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Jenny, my research should be the least of your concerns. Of course you have to go home and be with your family now. Can I do anything?”

Jenny shook her head. “Thanks, Professor Webster, but I need to pack. I’m flying home tomorrow morning.”

“Well, you have my cell number. Call me if you need anything, all right?”

Jenny managed a weak smile. “Thanks, I will.” After Jenny left, Ellen gathered the term papers and grabbed her purse. She still had to head over to Admissions to talk to her contact about Sandra’s son. On her way back to her office she would swing by the history department office to see if she could find a last–minute replacement for Jenny. She didn’t have much hope, with most students either already employed or headed home for the summer, but she could try.

Her friend in Admissions didn’t know who had Jeremy Powell’s file, but said he would look into it and let her know. He gave her a recommendation form to complete and she said she would touch base with him Monday. At the history department office, she asked if anybody knew a graduate student who wanted to do research for her during the summer term, but the response wasn’t encouraging.

Ellen figured if it was meant to be, she’d find someone.

Otherwise, well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done research on her own. She did hate eating by herself in strange restaurants and having no one to talk to when a particularly interesting document came to light. Such important finds thrilled Ellen, and being able to share them with someone, particularly someone who understood, made such discoveries all the better.

When Ellen returned home after her mother’s appointment, she started preparing dinner for herself and Kate. She looked forward to spending time with her, and that familiar flutter in her stomach reasserted itself whenever she thought of her. Tonight she planned to make chicken Marsala, garlic mashed potatoes, and asparagus.

Filling, not too fattening, and yet a tad more elegant than the usual.

A nice bottle of merlot and perhaps some candles on the table…

Ellen shook herself out of her reverie.

This isn’t a date, Ellen
. Kate was no more interested in her than Ellen was in Joan’s coterie of men. Still, she wanted the dinner to be nice. She hoped Kate could find something relaxing about her time in Ellen’s condo. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be cooped up day after day. It still bothered her that Kate had chosen to escape her problems in this particular way, and she hoped she could help get her out and into the world again.

Kate arrived at seven and brought a bottle of champagne and glasses. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” she said, popping the cork and pouring it into champagne flutes.

“Congratulations on the end of classes, and here’s to a fruitful, productive sabbatical.” She touched her glass to the rim of Ellen’s and took a sip.

“Thank you, Kate, how thoughtful. But you should be saving this for your next important career move.” Ellen had intended to ease into the topic, but her words popped out at the first opportunity.

“Yes, well, the champagne won’t keep that long. There’s no use in letting it go bad.” Kate took another sip and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Ellen cook.

“Surely there are other things you can do. If not in television, then what about newspapers? You’re extremely talented and smart, Kate. I bet lots of people would love for you to work for them.” Kate’s irritation rose. What did Ellen know about her life and her ability? “Look, Ellen, I appreciate what you’re saying, but television was my life. I focused my entire career on getting into broadcast journalism. Starting with college at Northwestern and the
Chicago
Tribune
, then into research and reporting at the
Post
, and finally with Channel 5. A couple more years there and I would have been on national news. But that’s over now. No one’s interested in an anchor with a five-inch scar across her face. It just isn’t happening.” Ellen finished chopping fresh sage and dropped it into the frying pan. “Okay,” she said slowly. “So what are you going to do?

Sit in your dark condo for the rest of your life? You have too much to offer, Kate.”

“Actually”—Kate poured herself another glass of champagne—

“I have quite a bit of money put away. At some point I’ll travel. I’ve always wanted to go to the Far East. Who knows, maybe I can open a liquor store in Bangkok.” She hooted at the thought.

Ellen sighed. Kate obviously wouldn’t take the conversation seriously. And Ellen didn’t have time before she left to solve Kate’s problems for her.

During dinner, Ellen decided to shift the conversation to less controversial subjects. “You went to school in Illinois. Is that where you’re from?”

Kate nodded. “I grew up in Chicago. You?”

“Virginia girl,” Ellen replied. “Just across the river in Alexandria.”

“So that’s where your love of the Civil War comes from. You leave in three weeks and you’re on the road by yourself for a while. I’ll bet that’s relaxing.”

“Well, my research assistant was supposed to go, too, but she had to cancel at the last minute. I prefer the company. It gets lonely after a while.”

“When I did research for the
Post
, I thoroughly enjoyed the solitude. Just me, my computer, and a vast library. I could’ve stayed like that forever, but of course I didn’t see a lot of growth potential there.”

Ellen stared at Kate, her fork frozen in midair. Kate took a bite of mashed potatoes and looked up at her.

“What?” Kate’s hand flew to her scar.

“You loved doing research?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“How would you like to get outside, into some fresh air?” Ellen beamed. “Virginia isn’t exactly the Far East, but it is lovely this time of year.”

It took quite a bit of convincing, but Ellen finally managed to get Kate to agree to come along. She didn’t know how good Kate would be with the research, but she didn’t care. She wanted to get her out of the house—mission accomplished.

Ellen sang while cleaning her house that morning and continued to hum as she walked up the street to Lambda Rising. The small bookstore’s rainbow flags drifted in the breeze out front. She waved hello to the staff behind the counter and began to peruse the lesbian section. Last night at dinner, trying to find an excuse not to join Ellen on her trip, Kate declared she knew nothing about the Civil War other than the North won.

“Hey, Ellen, can I help you find something?”

“Good afternoon, Heidi. I’m looking for something on the Civil War, but fiction, if you have it.”

“We just got one in that might be what you’re looking for.” She led Ellen over to the new releases section and handed her a book.

“Have you read it?”

“Not yet. We just unpacked them this morning and put them on the shelf. But I’m taking a copy home.” Ellen scanned the blurb on the back cover. It sounded interesting, and it took place in Washington and Richmond. They would visit many of the locations included in the book. Hopefully the novel would interest Kate enough to divert her attention from her problems. Ellen picked up a copy and paid at the front counter.

❖

Kate sat at her office desk staring at the computer screen, her eyes glazed over at all the Web sites devoted to the Civil War. No way in hell could she ever absorb enough of this stuff to help Ellen.

What the hell was I thinking?
Ellen was this brilliant professor of history and Kate knew squat. She’d be totally useless—useless as a researcher and useless as a news anchor. She turned her monitor off in disgust and pushed away from the desk.

Wandering around, she headed for the bar where she poured herself a scotch. The first sip instantly calmed her and she thought about calling Ellen and telling her the deal was off. It was one thing to know your life was a failure and an entirely different thing for someone else to know it.

But she was relieved to be going with Ellen. Not having her to talk to, even only once or twice a week, was almost unbearable. She was still a little afraid to go outside, to be around strangers, people who might know who she was. They would point and say, “Hey, remember her? What’s her name? She used to be a news anchor, but look at that face.” Kate’s stomach turned over.

Ellen hadn’t finalized her plans yet, so Kate planned to pack enough for at least two weeks, hoping that would be enough. They wouldn’t be far from home, though, so she could come back and regroup. The doorbell rang as she stood in her bedroom, and she went to answer it, knowing it was Ellen.

“Hey, I brought you a present.” Ellen handed her a book.

“What’s this?” Kate read the title.

“It’s a pizza, what does it look like?”

“Very amusing.”

“It’s set during the Civil War in the Richmond and Washington area. Since nonfiction can be dry, a romantic fictional approach might interest you more.”

“I hate to say it, but this is more my speed—history lite.” Ellen chortled. “That’s okay. It’ll be fun to have you along.” Kate felt odd. No one had ever said she was fun. No one would have dared. Clearly Ellen didn’t know her that well…yet. “Thanks, I’ll start reading it tonight.”

“Enjoy.” Ellen turned away.

“Hey.” Kate called her back. “Uh, you feel like having dinner?”

“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m having dinner with my family and some of my father’s associates. Believe me, if I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t. I’d much rather be with you.” Kate felt inordinately pleased. “Well, if you get home early, perhaps a nightcap?”