Heart of the Matter (7 page)

She picked up her present and a pastry box from the passenger seat and got out of the car, admiring the tulips sprinkled brightly around the house. The sound of Joan’s two whining children assaulted her at the front door. Each insisted on handing Grandma her present, and they almost had a crying fit until Joan told them they could both carry it to her.

Ellen couldn’t stand her niece and nephew, the annoying little gnats. She swatted them away whenever they came near her, which was only when they wanted something. After the kids ran out the back door, Joan turned to the counter and scowled at Ellen.

“Well, I thought you’d never get here,” Joan said, exasperated as usual.

Ellen glanced at her watch. “I thought we were supposed to be here at one.”

“Yes, of course, but there’s so much preparation beforehand. I could have used some help.”

“Joan, Mother’s seventy-two years old today and can’t stand a fuss. She enjoys a simple, quiet meal and family, that’s all.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You just show up, enjoy yourself, and then leave. I do all the work.”

“You know that’s not true. Mother does most of the work because she enjoys it, and I’ll be here to clean up. Where are she and Dad?”

Joan nodded toward the back door. “They’re on the patio. Dad decided to grill the steaks outside since it’s so nice today. I made a salad and the baked potatoes are in the oven.”

“Here’s dessert.” Ellen placed the pastry box on the counter.

“What is it?”

“Bostocks, of course. Mom’s favorite.” Ellen lifted the lid so Joan could see.

“Oh, Ellen, you know she shouldn’t be eating that. She has to watch her cholesterol.”

“One bostock on her birthday won’t kill her. At her age she deserves to have some fun.” Ellen wiped a bit of almond cream from the side of the box with her finger and popped it into her mouth.

“Yeah, right. You just enjoy having an excuse to eat that junk yourself. Have you gained more weight since the last time I saw you?” Joan gazed at her and frowned.

Ellen’s cheeks burned. “Leave it alone, Joan.” She was in no mood to argue with her sister over this ongoing theme.

Joan raised her hands in protest. “Fine, fine. If you want to ruin your body, that’s up to you.”

“Thank you.”

“With summer not that far away I thought you’d want to look decent. You can’t go to the club like
that
.” Joan made a sweeping gesture toward Ellen’s belly and hips. “No man there would look twice at you.”

Ellen clenched her fists and struggled to control her temper.

“Joan, you know I don’t give a damn about men. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Oh, that’s right, you like
women
.” Joan emphasized the last word as though it were obscene. “Whatever. Go have your fun, get it out of your system. One of these days, though, you’ll wish you’d stayed in shape. The older you get, the less likely a man will find you attractive.”

Ellen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her sister’s determined denial always amazed her. No matter how many times they had this conversation, it was as though she spoke to the dead.

She wondered why she even bothered to engage her at all. Picking up the pitcher of iced tea, she headed for the door.

“I’ll be right there with the salad and the potatoes,” Joan trilled after her.

Barbara Webster sat at the glass umbrella table, sipping a vodka gimlet as she watched her husband at the grill. The sound of sizzling steaks and the delicious aroma reached Ellen the moment she stepped outside, calling to mind various cookouts in their backyard since her childhood. She immediately relaxed. But it would take a stiff drink to help her forget Joan’s nasty remarks.

“I hope you have more of those,” she said, pointing to her mother’s gimlet.

“Help yourself.” Her mother pushed a pitcher toward her. “Are you and Joan at it again?”

Ellen poured herself a glass. “She just won’t leave it alone.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Barbara offered.

“No, Mom, you know that won’t do any good. She’s always been this way. She won’t accept me for who I am, and she insists that her way of life is the be-all and end-all. I’ve had it with her.”

“She just wants you to be happy,” her mother said.

“She wants me to be like her, that’s all. Well, I can’t, and I’m not going to try and convince her of it any longer. I’m happy with my life the way it is, and she’s going to have to get used to it.”

“Are you happy?”

Ellen paused. She loved her work, and her mother knew that, but that wasn’t what her mother was asking about. Her parents had been very careful about inquiring into any relationships she might be involved in. She knew they didn’t want to add to any pressure she had already placed upon herself, but they were still concerned for her well-being.

“I have a date tonight.” She hoped this announcement would placate them, at least for a while.

“Really?” Barbara glanced to her husband. “Do we know her? Where did you two meet?”

“Meet who?” Joan came out of the house carrying two bowls.

Ellen ignored her. “She’s a friend of Linda’s and Janice’s. All I know is that she’s an attorney and works with Janice on Senator Teasdale’s staff. She asked me to the symphony tonight.”

“How lovely.” Barbara squeezed her arm. “Have a good time.”

“Oh, Ellen, no.” Joan put the two bowls on the table. Her children ran up beside her and grabbed a potato from the bowl, fighting over who got the biggest one.

“Don’t start, Joan. I’m warning you.” Ellen got up, taking her drink with her, and escaped into the house. She was still unsure of her feelings about Kate, as well as Sandra, and she felt dangerously near the edge of her ability to control her emotions. Once inside, she strolled toward her old bedroom, which contained many of the mementos of her childhood—her record collection, the various plaques and awards demonstrating her academic successes, and several photo albums. It was familiar and safe, and she often retreated there when she was going through uncertainty in her life.

She sat on the bed and flipped through her high-school yearbook.

Images from the varsity tennis team screamed back at her.

There she was, in her tennis whites and letter sweater, racket held casually across her chest. At five foot seven, she had weighed one hundred and ten pounds, and could fly across the court to reach any shot her opponent could smash her way. With her abilities, the team had gone to state, only to lose in the finals, but it was the first time her high school had ever been there. They were the dream team.

A few pages further on, she paused at a photo from her junior prom. She looked so marvelously thin; it didn’t seem possible that her body would ever fit the clothes she now wore. Her hipbones were clearly prominent beneath her clinging dress and her face was angled and sharp. Ellen sighed. She had rarely eaten much of anything back then, knowing that the boys from the men’s team ogled the girls during practice. One poor teammate who had struggled with weight all her life was the target of their cruel teasing. Ellen helped defend her against the boys, but the comments served as a reminder to keep her own weight down.

God, one hundred and ten pounds
. She couldn’t believe it had been twenty-five years since she’d weighed that much. Forty pounds.

Forty pounds she had gained since that time. Just the thought of it made her cringe with self-loathing.

“You know, I can always find you here when you’re upset.” Her mother walked in and sat next to her on the bed.

Ellen remained silent, not knowing how to explain to her mother what she was going through, because she didn’t quite understand it herself. It was all too new and complex for her to sort out on her own.

“What’s up, honey?” She ran her hand through Ellen’s hair and then slowly rubbed her back, the way she did when Ellen was a little girl. The familiar touch still soothed her.

“Oh, I don’t know. A little jittery about going out with someone, I guess. I haven’t exactly been the social butterfly of late. And my next-door neighbor is absolutely infuriating me at the moment.”

“What happened?”

“I brought her groceries the other day and she yelled at me and slammed the door in my face. I can’t think of any reason for her to do that and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Why, the ungrateful wretch.” Barbara stopped rubbing her back. “I’d tell her where she could get off in no uncertain terms.”

“Well, it’s not that easy.” Ellen backpedaled, surprised by her mother’s vehement comment. “She was in a terrible car accident and refuses to go out. I think she’s just lashing out because of her situation, not because of me.”

“Why on earth are you the one doing all this for her? Doesn’t she have family who can help her?”

“I guess not. I haven’t seen anyone. Maybe she won’t let them. It seems like she’s closed herself off from people.”

“Why are you so interested in this neighbor of yours? Why is she your responsibility?” Her mother’s scrutiny was intent and unwavering.

Afraid of what her face might reveal, Ellen looked away. “I don’t know, Mom. She’s all alone, and she needs me. She has no one else. I know there’s a good person inside of her and she just needs help until she can get back on her feet.”

“It seems you know more about her than the woman you have a date with tonight.” Her mother had a thoughtful expression on her face. “You know, this reminds me of the time when you were a little girl and you brought a baby bird into the house to care for when it fell out of its nest. Eventually you had to let it go, once it was strong enough to be back among its kind. You were heartbroken.” Ellen had completely forgotten the event, but it came rushing back. At the time, she thought the bird would remain her pet. Letting it go felt like a betrayal. For months she wondered if it survived.

Picturing it weak or dead, she felt responsible and couldn’t forgive herself for abandoning the poor creature to the wild to take its chances.

Her mother stood. “Be careful you don’t find yourself caring for another baby bird, Ellen.”

For a long while after her mother left the room, Ellen remained on the bed. She felt more confused than ever and knew she’d have to sort things out with Kate soon. The tension between them couldn’t go on forever. The whole thing was ridiculous. They were both adults and should be able to talk about the unfortunate incident. Kate was her neighbor and perhaps becoming her friend as well. Ellen didn’t need to let unrealistic daydreams get in the way of helping Kate during a rough period in her life. Kate needed someone, and Ellen was possibly the only person who could give practical support. She’d have to put aside her fantasies and focus on Kate’s needs instead.

❖

Kate had just finished lunch when the phone rang. She debated answering, seeing on the caller ID that it was her agent, but knew he would only call back. She needed to deal with this situation.

“Hi, Dean,” she said with little enthusiasm.

“Kate.”

He paused, and she knew he didn’t have good news. She braced herself, knowing what was coming but wishing somehow she could stop him.

“Kate…”

After a few more moments of hesitation, Kate couldn’t stand it anymore. “Just spit it out, Dean,” she snapped. “You don’t need to sugarcoat it.”

“Sorry…the station wants to buy out your contract. It seems like a pretty good deal, and as your agent, I would advise you to take it.”

He knew. He didn’t ask why, so Mike must have told him.

She could imagine them all sitting around the conference table, discussing her life. “Poor Kate,” they’d probably said, and then went about deciding what was best for the station, and for her, of course. In a single morning, they had determined her fate, before the inevitable lunch at an upscale Washington restaurant. She was furious she was so helpless, but she had no choice. Her anchor days were through.

“Send the paperwork over,” she said flatly. “I’ll look at it, and if it’s in order I’ll sign it.”

“Kate, I’ve been calling some stations out West and—”

“Well, stop right now,” Kate interrupted angrily. “I’m not interested in doing anything, either here or out West.”

“But, Kate—”

“I said, forget it. Send me the paperwork tonight. I’ll get it back to you in the morning.”

She jabbed the Off button and flung the phone across the room.

She swore she wouldn’t answer it again, especially if it was Dean calling. Glancing at her watch, she strode to the bar off the kitchen and poured a scotch. It was too early in the afternoon for one, but she didn’t care. She needed it.

The first sip was strong and harsh, but after that, the taste was smoother. A couple of hours of channel surfing and several drinks later, she realized she had emptied the bottle.
I better add that to my
grocery list
.
Speaking of groceries
. She glanced at her watch again; it was almost five o’clock. Normally Ellen would be home by now and would bring the items Kate was waiting for or come collect her list for the next day. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Kate read the note she’d found slipped under her door the day before. The ultimatum was clear:
Call Ellen and apologize or go
screw yourself and get your own groceries.

Nothing on her list was urgent; she had enough food to get by.

But the scotch was a different matter. Kate inspected her last bottle and chewed at her lip. She had enough to last her five or six hours; then she would have to leave the condo so she could stock up. She shuddered. The very thought of leaving her sanctuary to go out in public and be seen made her ill. Only a few people knew of her predicament and mercifully had kept it to themselves, so far. If she were to go out, some fan might surreptitiously photograph her with their cell phone and her damaged face would be plastered all over the news.

The more she thought about her situation, the angrier she got.

Fuck them
. What did it matter anymore if people knew what she was hiding? Her career was in the trash and there was no use pretending otherwise. If someone took her photograph and it wound up on the news, she’d merely get a head start on the station by beating them to the announcement. What was she going to do, otherwise? Stay in her condo for the rest of her life? The idea was absurd and infuriating.