On Second Thought(133)

*

The next afternoon, I got a call from Kate. “Hey, I’m...I’m moving out. Sorry it’s so sudden.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“They know. The Coburns.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Want help?”

“No, but you’ll have to move out, too. Not immediately. But soon.” Her voice was tight.

“Sure, sure. I was planning to anyway. Um, Dad broke his leg, did you get that message?”

“Yeah, sorry. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. I’m gonna stay with him a few days, I think.” I paused. “You sure you don’t want help?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I went over anyway, leaving Dad on the couch with a tube of Oreos and the remote control. His broken leg was all over ESPN, and he wanted to enjoy it. Gram-Gram was on her way over to babysit him.

Kate had three suitcases on her bed when I found her, and was tossing things in a little wildly. “Oh, hey.”

“Sit down,” I said, taking a pair of boots from her. “Have you had anything to eat or drink today?” Really, I was going to make an excellent nurse.

“I did. See?” She picked up a glass of water and took a long drink, then told me what happened.

I sighed. “Well, it was gonna happen sooner or later. Sort of ripped the Band-Aid off. You won’t have to skulk around for the next few months, afraid that they’ll find out.”

“They’re really upset.”

“Of course they are.” I sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her. “But, Kate, you loved Nathan. This baby doesn’t change that fact. You took a little comfort with Daniel and now you’re going to have a baby, and you always wanted that.”

“True,” she said. She was quiet for a minute. “I’ll miss you. I loved living with you.”

My heart swelled. “I loved it, too. And I’ll come to Brooklyn and stay with you, I promise. And you can come up here when I get a place of my own.”

“I will,” she said. “I don’t want us to stop being close.” Then she stood up and hugged me, long and hard, petting my hair the way she used to when I was little.

“I don’t know how I could’ve gotten through this without you. And don’t think you’re off the hook now.”

I squeezed her tight. Nothing she could’ve said would have made me any happier.





Chapter Thirty-Six

Kate

It was funny how quickly my presence was erased from Nathan’s house. Ainsley had taken Ollie with her when she left, and I was alone.

My suitcases were by the door. My toiletries were cleaned up from the bathroom. Max was coming to pick me up after rush hour. Daniel had offered, but I put him off. It carried too much weight, him coming to take me away from Nathan’s.

Brooke had sent me an email, telling me not to touch any of Nathan’s things. She would take care of that. It’s very hard for us to believe you loved Nathan if you found it so easy to fall in with another man. I think it would be better if we didn’t hear from you for a while, the email said.

But I did take one thing. A navy blue cashmere sweater, tucked at the bottom of my suitcase. He had so many, and I wanted something that had touched him.

I went into the cellar and brought up the Apple boxes. Into the den (or study) to pack up my equipment, the Apple, the cords and accessories, tucked back into their nesting foam.

Otherwise, there were a few books on photography—Ansel Adams and Margaret Bourke-White. The photo of Nathan and me. And Hector, of course.

Otherwise, there still wasn’t much of me in this room. There never had been.

Nothing of mine had ever made it from storage.

Did some part of me know I wouldn’t be married for long? Did I believe Nathan and I would last? Was the feeling of strangeness that permeated our marriage trying to tell me something?

There was my Nikon.

I guessed it was now or never.

Slowly, I reached for the camera. The last time I’d held this was the last day of my husband’s life, and yet it fit into my hands the same as always, comfortable, a solid, reliable workhorse of a camera.

If I was going to do this, I’d do it right. I dug through my bag of cords and found the one that would download the photos onto Nathan’s computer. Tapped the space bar of his computer. It took a minute to wake up, since it hadn’t been used since I looked at his emails from Madeleine.

And there they were, his neat folders.

I plugged the cord in and waited. Looked at Hector as the photos loaded, my heart thumping.

Then I looked at the screen. Import seven pictures? the computer asked me. I clicked Yes.

Oh, God. There he was, that last morning, his face so dear, so plain and rugged and...and...loved that my knees crumpled, and I slid into his chair.

Nathan. Oh, Nathan. How can you be gone forever?

I drank in the details; the shape of his mouth, the freckle under his eye, the blond eyelashes, the sweetness in his almost shy expression.

Thank God I’d gotten up early to see him that day. Thank God I had this picture.

The next one was from Eric’s party—my sister, lit up with happiness. Eric, that smug bastard.

Jonathan Kent, looking intently at Ainsley as she talked to someone else. Another little revelation caught by the camera.