She closed the door as the car pool rounded the corner. A last wave just before the little blond head in the back seat disappeared from sight, and Tygue was off to his day. And she to hers. She walked softly into the kitchen for a last sip of her coffee. She didn’t want to wake Nick.
“You look awfully done up for a foggy Tuesday morning.” He looked at her from the large kitchen table and she jumped.
“Hi, darling. I didn’t know you were up.” She tried to sound light as she bent to kiss him. “Want some coffee?” He nodded. “Eggs?”
“No, thanks. I’ll make my own when I can open my eyes. You teaching again?”
She nodded, looking into the coffee she was pouring.
“Your schedule seems to vary a lot.” There was something strange in his voice. An accusation. A suspicion. Something she didn’t like. She looked up at him, but she couldn’t quite tell what it was. “Last week you went Monday and Thursday. Didn’t you?”
“I guess so. I don’t know.” She poured in the two sugars he liked and busied herself at the sink.
“Come here a minute.”
Her heart was pounding, but she tried to think empty thoughts as she turned toward him. She didn’t want him to see anything, know anything … know she was lying. She stood looking at him, but there was no smile in his eyes.
“Why won’t you tell me what you really do down there?”
“Are you serious?”
“Very.” And he looked it. Her heart only beat faster and seemed to fill her ears.
“I told you. I teach retarded children and adults.”
“Can’t you find something comparable in the city? Surely San Francisco has lots of retarded kids who’d love you. Why Carmel?” And why not the truth, dammit? Why?
“I’ve been going there for years.” That much he knew.
“While you were married?”
“No.” And then there was a strange silence and she looked hard at him again. “What difference does that make?”
“I don’t know, Kate. Maybe I should ask you that.”
“What the hell difference does it make, dammit? I don’t bother you. I leave at eight, I’m back at five. Sometimes four-thirty. It doesn’t take anything away from you,” She was angry now, and frightened. She had never seen him look like that before.
“It does take something away from me, Kate.” He looked at her in a way that shriveled her soul. It was a cold, angry look. “It takes you away.”
“For a few lousy hours?” Christ, she owed Tom that much. He had no right to …
“Have you ever looked in the mirror when you get back?” She stared at him silently. “You look like a ghost. You look haunted and hurt and tried and sad. Why do you do that to yourself?” He found himself staring at her even harder, but found no answers. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.” She said nothing, but walked out of the kitchen. She should have gone to him, hugged him, kissed him. She knew it. It would have been smarter. But she didn’t want to be smart. And she didn’t want to be pushed. She wasn’t going to tell him until she was ready to, if ever. And she would never let him stop her from going. Those two days a week were sacred. They were Tom’s.
“I’ll see you at five.” She said it from the front door, with her eyes closed, wanting to go to him, but afraid he’d do something to stop her from going, or worse, force the truth out of her. Why the hell did he have to wake up? It was so easy when he was asleep. She hesitated a moment and then spoke again. “I love you.” She heard him walk softly out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He stood there with the Bay at his back and looked at her for what felt like an eon.
“Do you, Kate?”
“You know I do.” She walked slowly toward him and took him into her arms. “Darling, I love you so much.”
There was a long pause as his arms held her too, and then he pulled away.
“Then tell me about Carmel.” He almost prayed that she would. God, how long could he go on pretending not to know. But Kate only looked at him, with wide sorrowful eyes.
“We’ve already talked about Carmel, Nick.” Her eyes never left his.
“Have we? Then why don’t I feel more comfortable about your going there?” What else could he say, dammit? Jesus, if she’d only give him an opening.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Isn’t there, Kate? Wouldn’t it worry you if I went somewhere every week without telling you more about it than you tell me?”
She was silent for a moment and then she looked away. “But I tell you about it, Nick. You know why I go.” She tried desperately to sound soothing.
His eyes held a penetrating quality she didn’t understand. He wanted to tell her that he did know. He felt almost compelled to tell her, but he couldn’t. He had to hear it from her. She had to want to tell him. “Never mind, forget it. Have a nice day.” He wheeled around then and walked back toward the kitchen, as she stood there wondering if she should run after him. But she couldn’t. He wanted answers that she was not yet ready to give him.
She walked out the door and to the car, but she felt as though she were dragging chains around her feet. Should she go? Should she stay? Did she owe him an explanation? Should she tell him the truth? What if he left her? What if … and then, as she started the car, she forced him from her mind. She owed the trip to Tom, she owed him these visits, these days … but did she owe it to him to lose Nick? The thought made her step on the brakes and think for a minute. Was she really playing for those kinds of stakes? Could Felicia be right? Could she lose Nick if she didn’t tell him and he eventually found out?
“Shit.” She muttered the word to herself as she let herself gently into the traffic outside their house. She just couldn’t tell him yet. Not yet … but maybe soon.