Kat made the increasingly familiar trek from bedroom to front door. She’d come to the beach house seeking solitude. This was more like Grand Central Station. At Thanksgiving. Maybe even Christmas. She opened the door.
“I knocked and knocked, and when you didn’t answer, I thought maybe you were dead or something, so that’s why I was looking in through the windows.” Her mother sailed past her, backed up and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re not.”
Kat hadn’t gotten back to sleep until Eddie had phoned her on his cell phone, assuring her that Andrew was home and the charge would be dropped. Sleep-and caffeine-deprivation scrambled her mother’s rambles. “Huh?”
“Dead. I’m glad you’re not dead, dear.”
Kat headed for the kitchen, or more specifically, the coffeemaker and hit the red On button. “Thanks. I consider that a bonus this morning.”
She opened a package of Fig Newtons and offered one to her mother. With practiced ease, Kat managed to fill two coffee mugs and replace the glass carafe under the streaming liquid with barely a spill.
Her mother gestured to a behavior modification tape. “What’s that?”
Desperate, she now listened to several a day. “My new best friend.” Was that a problem when you became excessive with your moderation tape? She was too tired to think about it.
Joining her mother at the table, Kat sipped the hot, strong brew. “Aah, nectar of the gods. Would you like to tell me why you’re here, Mother?”
“Jackson spilled your beans, dear.”
“I’m already not speaking to him for the rest of this life. He just screwed up the next one as well.” Kat paced to the deck door and back. “Can you request a particular reincarnation? I’d like to be a bulldog with rabies just so I can bite Jackson in the ass.” And she was only partially teasing. The idea held great appeal.
“That’s blasphemous. I think.” Without blinking an eye, her mother picked up Kat’s coffee cup and emptied it down the sink. “Anyway, he did what he thought was right.”
Kat’s mouth gaped open at her empty cup. “Why’d you do that?”
“You’ve got to lay off the high-test if you’re pregnant.” Her mother opened the refrigerator, filled Kat’s coffee cup to the brim with milk and placed it on the table. “Now that’s just what our little zygote needs.”
Kat shrugged in resignation. Sometimes Mother did know best. Would her little zygote think the same one day?
“Kat, since you were a teenager I’ve tried not to meddle in your life. And maybe that’s been a mistake on my part. For years, I’ve felt guilty that I didn’t try to do anything about Nick. I knew he was wrong for you. And sure enough he wound up hurting you.”
“Mom, you couldn’t have changed anything.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll never know. But this time I’m not going to stand by and say nothing while you make another mistake.”
Kat dunked a fig cookie into her milk. “Mom, I know Andrew’s a mistake. That’s why I’m here.”
“Andrew’s not a mistake. That’s why I’m here.”
“If Jackson spilled all my beans, then you know he, Andrew and Eddie deliberately deceived me. I need a straight answer, Mom. Are men genetically incapable of the truth? Or is there a sign on my back that says Fool- Play Me?” Tears threatened to spill over. Kat yanked herself up by her Fig Newtons. She’d never been the weepy sort. She’d made it through her Nick fiasco without shedding a tear.
Her mother gentled a strand of hair behind her ear, much like she’d done when Kat was a small child. “It felt like the thing with Nick, didn’t it?”
Kat nodded, managing a single word. “Worse.” Anything more and her waterworks would start up. No need to ruin a perfectly good breakfast of milk and cookies with salty tears.
“I think Andrew’s taking the heat for Nick, too.”
Kat opened her mouth to protest and shoved a cookie in instead.
“You came home one day and Nick was simply gone. You were left with a public and private mess you had to deal with on your own. You never even had the chance to confront him.”
How many times had she fantasized about throwing the contents of the china cabinet at Nick’s lying face? How much of the Waterford pitched at Andrew had also been intended for Husband Number One?
“Maybe.”
“Andrew’s not like Nick. Nick used and abused for his financial gain. And, honey, that bad karma’s gonna crawl all over him one day.”
“I don’t care.” The words emerged without rancor and she meant them. She felt the tremendous weight of her anger at Nick slip away, freeing her. Kat jumped up and danced a jig around the table. Nick had been a pimple on the ass of her progress-and he’d been a very big one-but she’d finally let it go.
Her mother’s smile echoed her own joy. “I do believe you mean it. Andrew just wants to protect his child. And I don’t care about all the contracts in the world, you and that young man love each other. It was plain as day to me and Vince. You and Andrew just need to figure it out.”
Her elation over Nick vanished in light of her situation with Andrew. Deflated, she plopped back into her chair. “I have, but I think it’s too late. He reads the Wall Street Journal and even his blue jeans have creases. But last night I wouldn’t open the door and then he started to sing and I didn’t know what to do when the police took him away-”
“The police?” Her mother interrupted her babbling with a screech.
Kat gave her mother a rundown of the predawn debacle. “So, now my Harvard-graduated-soon-to-be-prestigious-law-partner husband has a police record. I’ve made a shamble of things.” The last syllable ended in a wail.
“Katrina Anastasia Hamilton Devereaux Winthrop, pull your hormones together. I’ve always admired your grit. If you wanted something, then, by golly, you went after it. If you want this marriage to work, give it your best shot.”
Kat reached for the last fig cookie. “You know I’ve never mastered that moderation thing.” The empty cookie container lent its own silent testimony. The tapes on the table stared at her in silent accusation. “And yes, I want him. To excess. Because that’s the way I do things. It’s either all or nothing and I can’t settle for nothing from him.” Despite her bravado, her heart thundered in trepidation. She wouldn’t allow herself to even consider the nothing alternative. She’d taken that route this week and it stank.
Her mother tossed the empty cookie wrapper in the garbage with a smile. “That’s my girl. I checked before I came over this morning and tomorrow’s numbers showed something special.”
Kat walked her mother to the door, her brain racing like a runaway locomotive. “I think I’ll give my husband today to recover from his jail time and hangover. But tomorrow morning, he won’t know what hit him.”
Her mother threw out one last piece of advice. “Honey, invest in one of those home pregnancy tests. I believe I’m gonna be a grandma.”
ANDREW LEANED AGAINST the stucco wall and aimed the shower of water at the profusion of pots flanking the front door. His reconciliation attempt with Kat last night had wound up an exercise in humiliation. Eddie’s words echoed in his brain like a litany. The life he’d had and the future he’d envisioned before Kat no longer meant anything. She’d turned his house into a home. She’d brought him into the land of the living. With gusto. The best sex in his life was mere icing on the cake-although he’d developed quite an affinity for icing.
And if Kat turned out to be pregnant, he’d make the best damn dad any kid could want. Juliana and Toto liked him well enough, and weren’t kids and animals supposed to be the best judges of character?