Sign me up,” Kathleen said. “It's perfect.” She hoisted herself, ass first, onto the edge of Lucy's kitchen table and sat there, long bare legs dangling-she was wearing shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, even though it was a fairly cool October morning. “Tomorrow at work, I’ll ask Kevin to sponsor me for Sari's autism walk, and then I’ll try to get him to ask to come with me, and he probably will, but even if he doesn't, it'll still make me look all noble and caring.”
“How gullible is this guy?” Lucy asked. “And get off my table. You'll break it.”
Kathleen jumped down. “I need to jump-start this thing. I mean, it's not like we're not spending time together-so far, we've gone running twice, and he flirts like crazy. But he's got this girlfriend to get rid of and he's too nice a guy to just dump her. But if I take him on Sari's autism walk thing, I’m pretty sure I can clinch the deal.”
“How romantic,” Lucy said. “How long is the walk, Sari?”
“Five K. And afterward, they give us lunch. In-N-Out Burgers. And there's supposed to be Krispy Kremes and coffee in the morning before the walk.”
“Woo-hoo,” Kathleen said. “Krispy Kremes? I’m so there.”
“I’m coming late and leaving early,” Lucy said. “I don't want to eat that stuff but I will if it's right there in front of me.”
“No, you won't,” Kathleen said. “You never do. You only eat self-denial. What does that taste like, anyway?”
Like chicken,” Sari said.
“Yeah, well we can't all have your metabolism,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “Or lack of willpower.”
“Haven't you heard?” Kathleen said. “Willpower's out. Self-indulgence is the new willpower.”
“That doesn't even make sense.”
“See if you can dig up anyone else to come, guys,” Sari said. “They want as huge a crowd as they can get.”
Lucy said, “I’ll ask my lab partner. David. He's always doing charity stuff. I bet he'll go.”
“Great,” Sari said. “I’ve always wanted to meet him.”
“You have met him,” Lucy said. “You came to get me at the lab once a few months ago and met him. You guys talked for like ten minutes.”
“Really?” Sari said.
“That's David's most remarkable quality,” Lucy said. “He's completely forgettable. I work with him every day and I can barely remember him.”
“Oh, wait-is he Asian?”
“Half Chinese, half Jewish.”
“Okay. It's coming back. I do remember him. He's a nice guy.”
“He's a nerd,” Lucy said. “A nerd who's very good at killing rats. Not as good as I am, but very good.”
“Excellent,” Sari said. “It's a relief to know we'll be covered if any small animals attack us during the walk.”
Back at her own place later that day, Kathleen let herself slide into a delicious Sunday afternoon nap on her airbed but was woken up by the buzzing of the intercom. Sams state-of-the-art intercom was built into his phone system, but Kathleen hadn't bothered to get a line installed since she had her cell. Fortunately, the building's original buzzer system from the seventies still worked. Very loudly.
Since she rarely had visitors to her unfurnished apartment- and never before an unexpected one-Kathleen quickly shook herself awake and ran over to the speaker.
“Your father's here to see you,” the doorman said.
“Oh, shit,” she said, right into the intercom. “Send him up, I guess.”
She turned and surveyed her living room. It stretched out in all directions, an enormous room with high ceilings and magnificent moldings, furnished with only a single twin airbed. Actually, Kathleen owned two airbeds, both bought at Bed Bath & Beyond for ninety-nine dollars each. One was in her bedroom and therefore her designated bed. This one was in the living room, so it served as a sofa and a place to nap. She also sat on it to eat, so it was her de facto dining room, as well. The actual dining room served as her soccer and field hockey playground. She had recently purchased a set of orange cones, which she used as goals for whatever sport she felt like playing and were currently arranged for soccer. Balls, pucks, bats, and hockey sticks lay scattered on the floor.
There was a knock on the door. Kathleen opened it. Lloyd Winters wasn't alone. There was another guy with him, a younger one, with big brown eyes and longish hair. He wore an oversize sports jacket over a yellow mock turtleneck.
“There she is. My gorgeous baby girl.” Lloyd approached her with his arms out. Kathleen crossed her own tightly across her chest and took a step back. He gave up on the hug but did manage to kiss the air near her cheek. “Kathleen, my beauty, this is Jordan Fisher. Jordan is not only a friend of mine, but one of the hottest young talent agents in Hollywood.”
“Please, Lloyd,” Jordan said, holding up a thin, self-deprecating hand. Then, to Kathleen with a smile: “He exaggerates.” He held the hand out and Kathleen shook it briefly.
“Modest,” Lloyd said, draping an arm across Jordan's shoulder. “Not like most of those conceited bastards. They'll sell you a line, but not this guy. Are you going to let us in, Kathleen?”
“I don't have any furniture,” she said. “You'll have to stand. Or sit on the floor.”
“Only Kathleen,” Lloyd said with a laugh, steering the other man through the door and closing it. “She's an original.”
“How would you know?” Kathleen said. “And why are you here?”
“To see you,” Lloyd said. “Doesn't she look just like me, Jordan?”
“Just like,” he said.
“The features are almost the same, but on her they make something beautiful.”
“They really work,” Jordan said.
“You haven't answered my question,” Kathleen said.
“Can't a father come see his-”
“No, really,” she said. “Why are you here?”
Jordan tossed his long hair. “You really cut through the crap, don't you, Kathleen? I admire that.” And you really dish it out, Kathleen thought, without any admiration at all. “Your father's been telling me a lot about you. A lot of very interesting and wonderful things. Do you know what he says about you?”
“That we barely know each other?”
The men laughed as if she had said something witty. “The greatest regret of my life,” Lloyd said gallantly. He had gotten his hair cut very short recently-buzzed, really. It was starting to recede, and Kathleen suspected that this was his attempt to hide it.
Jordan put his hand on her arm. “Let me tell you what he says. He says that you're the true beauty of the family. The true talent, too. Not to disparage your sisters, who are lovely, lovely ladies. But we all know that the fact that they're identical twins has a lot to do with their success and-uh, may I be completely frank here?”
“Just get through it,” Kathleen said, shaking off his hand.
“I think their identicality”-Was that even a word? Kathleen wondered-”blinded people to everything else. It was all anyone noticed about them-about all three of you, if you don't mind my saying so. And, in the end, I think their twinness overshadowed something far more appealing. Or should I say someone?”
“Someone, as in me?” Kathleen said.
Jordan smiled, showing teeth all the way back to the corners of his lips. “Exactly. She's quick, isn't she?” he said to Lloyd.
“Of course. She's my daughter.”
“It really is astonishing how much she looks like you. She's tall like you, too, the lucky girl.”
Kathleen walked over to a basketball that was lying nearby. She scooped it up and dribbled it a few times. It made a loud thud each time it hit the hardwood floor and the men turned to look. “Oh, sorry,” she said, catching the ball. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“You're probably wondering what the point of all this is,” Jordan said.
“Not really,” Kathleen said. She tossed the ball away and turned back to them. “I’m pretty sure I’ve figured it out. You think I should become an actress and you want to represent me.
“A star,” he said. “Not just an actress. A star. Kathleen, I could take you places you never dreamed of. Features. TV series. TV movies. Indies. You name it, and together, we'll conquer it.”
“Adult movies?” Kathleen said.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I just got the sense that with you at my side I’d end up in adult movies. Pornography.”
Jordan looked thoughtful. “If that appeals to you… I mean, Jenna Jameson has certainly proven that's one road to stardom and while I don't know that world as of yet, I’m certainly open to-”
Lloyd cut him off. “Jordan's totally legit, Kathleen. He represents tons of actors. Kimberly Sostchen. Jersey London. Just to name a couple.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“Then you're not watching enough TV. They're both on major series and very hot right now.”
“Good for them,” she said with a yawn. “What agency are you with, Jordan?”
“My own. I started with William Morris but decided to go into business by myself. I just didn't feel like we were servicing our clients well enough there-there was too much bloat at the company. Know what I mean?”
“Uh-huh.” She bet he had served coffee at William Morris. And gotten kicked out for not remembering the sugar. No way this guy was a real player. Not with that turtleneck. Not if he was hanging out with Lloyd and coming to her apartment to try to convince her to do something she had no interest in doing, all because she had the same last name as her moderately famous sisters. She moved toward the door. “Well, thanks for all the compliments, but I don't want to act. Sorry. Better luck next time.”
The men exchanged knowing smiles. Lloyd said, “I told you she'd take some persuading.” He rubbed his hands together. “Fortunately, we both love a challenge, don't we, Jordan? So how about we go get something to eat? We can talk about it more over dinner.”
“No, thanks,” Kathleen said. “I’m exhausted.”
“You're too young to be exhausted,” he said. “Come on, sweetie-it'll be lady's choice-whatever you want. So what do you like? Sushi? Indian?”
“None of the above. I’m tired.”
“I hear you. We'll do takeout.” He gestured toward her shorts and tank top. “No need to worry about how you look.”
“I’m not hungry,” Kathleen said. “I just want to go to bed.”
“I know what that made me remember!” Jordan said suddenly.
“What what made you remember?” Lloyd asked.
“That basketball. It just came to me. Someone told me recently about this huge movie they're doing. About a women's soccer team. Sort of an American Bend It Like Beckham, with a dash of League of Their Own thrown in. And they want to cast unknowns. You'd be perfect, Kathleen. With your athleticism and grace… I mean, wow.”
“Now we're getting somewhere,” Lloyd said. He took a step toward the door. “I’ll get us a bottle of wine. A bottle of wine and something to go with it.”
“I could really go for some Mexican right now,” Jordan said. “But not the greasy kind. Tacos al carbón. Something like that.”
He slapped his skinny stomach. “Got to watch my figure.”
Kathleen said, “I don't-”
“If it's Mexican, I think I should get beer instead of wine,” Lloyd said to Jordan.
“Oh, absolutely,” Jordan agreed. “There's a place down the block-”
“Hold on,” Kathleen said, but the men were discussing brands of Mexican beers and didn't seem to hear her. So then she said, “Excuse me,” and dashed down the hallway to the kitchen and through the kitchen to the back stairs. She ran up quickly.
Sam's kitchen door was unlocked, as it usually was these days. She shouted for him as she stuck her head around the door.
“I’m right here,” he said. “You don't need to yell.” He was cooking at his stove. Something with onions and butter. It smelled good. He peered over his shoulder at her. “What do you want?”
“Help,” she said, coming into his kitchen. “I need help.”
“Why? What's wrong?”
“My father showed up with a creepy agent type and they won't leave me alone. They want to put me in porn. I can't get rid of them.”
“Just tell them to leave.”
“I’ve tried. They won't.”
“So go be in porn. You wanted a career.”
“Come on, Sam. Please. Help me.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “All right.” He turned the burner off and shoved the pan across to a cool one. “I don't remember signing on as your personal bodyguard when I agreed to let you house-sit.”
“I didn't know my father was going to start bringing creeps over to my place.”
“You should never have given him your address.”
“I didn't,” she said, heading back down the stairs, with him following. “He's sneaky.”
He followed her back through her kitchen and down the hall into the living room, where they found the two men kicking the basketball back and forth without much enthusiasm or ability. Sam said, “Hello, Lloyd.”
Lloyd looked up and immediately strode forward, neatly sidestepping the rolling ball. “Sam Kaplan! Where the hell did you come from?”
“Upstairs.” The two men shook hands.
Lloyd said, “Sam, Jordan Fisher. Jordan, Sam Kaplan. Sam's the real estate guy I was telling you about. Very big.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jordan said. “Very pleased to meet you. Do you live here?” He looked at Kathleen. “With her? Are you-”
“No,” Sam said. “I live upstairs and Kathleen just ran up because she wanted me to ask you both to leave.”
“Excuse me?” Lloyd said.
“Kathleen's not interested in representation at this time.”
Lloyd looked back and forth between them. “I don't know what Kathleen's been telling you, but we just wanted to have dinner and talk. No one was putting any pressure on her.”
“You wouldn't leave,” Kathleen said. “I told you I didn't want any dinner but you wouldn't leave.”
“I’m sorry if you felt we were wasting your time,” Lloyd said.“I thought we were having a pleasant chat. I’m not sure why you felt the need to misrepresent the situation to my friend Sam here.”
“Me neither,” said Jordan.
“I apologize,” Lloyd said to him. “I thought my daughter had manners. And some intelligence. Clearly, I was mistaken on both accounts.”
“Yep, you were,” Kathleen said. She opened the door and gestured toward it. “Now you'll know better. Goodbye.”
As they went through the doorway, Lloyd turned and said, “I think you at least owe us an-”
She slammed the door in his face. “Idiots,” she said. She turned and looked at Sam. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” As he headed back toward the hallway, he gestured around the living room. “I love what you've done to the place.”
“It suits me.”
“It also explains why you're always coming up to my apartment. Good night, Kathleen. I’m going back to my cooking. Unless you're expecting some more surprise visitors.”
“How can you expect a surprise visitor?”
He laughed, then said, “Back to my onions.” He crossed through the kitchen to the back door. Kathleen caught the door before it closed and held it open. Sam paused on the stairs to look back at her. “What?”
“I’m hungry.”
He waited, his eyebrows cocked expectantly.
“It smelled good, what you were cooking.”
There was another pause. He sighed. “Come on up, then.”
She bounded up the steps to his side. “So,” she said. “What are we having for dinner?”
Well?” Lucy said. “What do you think of him? Kathleen's rich guy?”
“He seems nice enough,” Sari said. She and Lucy were walking side by side along a dirt path, surrounded by scattered trees and bushes. A field to one side of them sloped down to a small man-made pond.
“Nicer than I expected,” Lucy said.
“Kathleen wouldn't go out with a jerk. She may be mercenary-” Sari stopped herself. “I don't even think she's mercenary. Honestly.”
“You just don't want to think badly of her. She's been pretty honest about what she's going for.”
“Maybe she likes him,” Sari said. “Maybe she really likes the guy, but it's easier to pretend she's only interested in his bank account-so she's not setting herself up to get hurt or embarrassed if it doesn't work out.”
“The excuses you make for her-” Lucy gave a sudden lurch and swore, grabbing at Sari to steady herself. “Ouch, my ankle. Why didn't you tell me to wear sneakers?” She reached down to adjust her shoe, which had a narrow two-inch heel.
“I figured you'd know,” Sari said. “It's a walkathon, for God's sake.”
“Sneakers are for the gym,” Lucy said. “I need a heel if I want my legs to look halfway decent.”
“I’ve never seen Lucy in flat shoes,” David said, coming up on Sari's other side. He had fallen briefly behind to look at a spider-web. “She always dresses like she's on her way to a job interview.”
“You should have seen her in high school,” Sari said.
“No, he shouldn't have,” Lucy said. “No one should have.”
“Give me a break,” Sari said. “You were adorable. She wore overalls every day,” she told David.
“Overalls?” His eyebrows shot up.
“If you tell James that, I’ll kill you,” Lucy said. “And you know I can do it, because you've seen me sac a lot of rats. Sari, your days are numbered.”
“I’m trying to picture Lucy in overalls,” David said. “I just can't. It doesn't compute.”
“It wasn't a pretty sight,” Lucy said. “I was fat then and I guess I thought the overalls would hide some of it.”
“You weren't fat,” Sari said.
“Did she actually eat food back in those days?” David said. “Because she seems to have sworn off the stuff in recent years.”
“I just choose not to eat around you,” Lucy said. “The way you eat could take away anyone's appetite.”
“Ouch,” David said. “That one almost hurt.”
“Don't be mean, Lucy,” Sari said. “Not after David was so nice about coming today.”
“I’m happy to be here,” David said. “You couldn't ask for a more beautiful day.”
Sari agreed, but Lucy said, “All right, you've successfully bored me out of here. I’m going to go see if I can get a feel for Kathleen's rich boyfriend.”
“A feel for him is fine,” David said. “A feel of him might annoy your friend.”
“That was an example of the fine wit I get to enjoy for hours every day,” Lucy said to Sari.
“Lucky girl, isn't she?” David said.
Lucy snorted and fell back to wait for the others, while David and Sari walked on.
“You guys always go at each other like that?” Sari asked.
“We're alone in the lab a lot. Shooting the shit helps to pass the time. It's all supposed to be good-natured.” He shrugged. “But sometimes I think she gets a little pissed off at me for real.”
“Lucy can be a little…” She groped. “High-strung. But she's a good guy deep down.”
“Yeah, I know,” David said. “She's definitely-” He stopped and left the sentence dangling.
After they'd walked for a little while longer, Kathleen came running up to join them. “Help!” she said. “Lucy's giving Kevin a hard time about some project his company's doing that she says is bad for the environment.”
“Do you want me to go stop her?” Sari asked.
Kathleen fell into step with them. “Nah. I just wanted to escape. Kevin's fine. He can hold his own. And if he can't, maybe she'll make him think twice about destroying the environment, and it's not like that's a bad thing, right?” She reached up and pulled out her hair elastic and redid her ponytail without breaking stride. “Hey, either of you guys know why James didn't come?
“I’m sure he doesn't approve of the organization,” Sari said.
“They support a lot of behavioral research and we all know what he thinks of that.”
“Still,” Kathleen said, “he could have come for Lucy. I think-” She was interrupted by a new voice calling Sari's name, and they all stopped and turned.
Jason Smith came running up, pushing Zack in a stroller. “I was hoping you'd be here,” he said, a little out of breath. “We were late. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Sari stared at him for a moment. Then she realized everyone was waiting for her to say something, so she forced a smile, greeted him, and introduced him to the other two. Kathleen stared at him with frank appraisal, then caught Sari's eyes and pursed her mouth in a silent wolf whistle. Sari pretended not to see it.
Lucy and Kevin caught up to them as they stood there, and more introductions were made.
“Nice to meet you,” Jason said, and Lucy said, “You've met me before. We went to high school together.”
“Oh, right,” he said uncertainly.
“I looked different then,” Lucy said.
“She wore overalls and was fat,” David added.
“Shut up,” Lucy said.
“You said so yourself.”
“I know I did. Shut up anyway. You look exactly the same, Jason.”
“I’m a lot older,” he said. “And I have this.” He gestured down.
“A stroller?” Lucy said. “You must be so proud. Oh, wait, there's something in there.” She bent down and peered in. “He's cute,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“What's your connection to the cause?” she asked, as if she didn't already know.
“Zack has autism,” Jason said. “And Sari's working with him.”
“Are you now?” Lucy asked her with deliberate staginess.
Sari could have killed her. “Yes, I am.”
Kathleen said to Jason, “You're lucky. I bet Sari's amazing at what she does.”
“She's better than amazing. She's a lifesaver.”
“That sounds like our girl.” Kathleen took Kevin by the arm. “Shall we walk?”
“I’d love to,” he said, and they strode off together, well matched, both of them tall and healthy and good-looking.
Lucy watched them go and said, “I just can't get a sense of what he's really like.”
“Maybe he's an android,” David said. “Looks human but has no scent.”
“Wow,” she said. “You've actually reached new heights of nerdiness. And just when I thought you had no place to go but down.” She beckoned to him. “Come on-let's you and me go smell Kevin, just in case.” As they moved forward, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Hey, Jason, stick around after the walk. I want to see what you're like now. You were a real asshole back in high school, you know.”
She took off, her heels leaving small neat holes in the dirt path. David shrugged apologetically at the other two and followed her.
There was a pause and then Sari said, “Uh,” at the same moment that Jason said, “So I guess-” They both stopped and said, “Excuse me?” at the same moment.
“Let's keep walking,” Jason said then, with a jerk of his head.
Sari nodded and moved forward, trying to conceal her discomfort. She knew her friends had deliberately left her alone with him, and she could have slit their throats for doing it so obviously.
After a moment, Jason said, “The funny thing is, ‘Fat and wore overalls’ did it for me. I remember her now.”
“She wasn't that fat,” Sari said, a little wearily.
“It was probably just the overalls. She's certainly not fat now. Not an ounce on her.”
“No.”
“Was I really an asshole?” he said. “Is that how people remember me?”
Sari searched for a response. “Do you care?” she finally said.
He gave a short laugh. “That answers that.” She was silent and he said after a moment, “I mean, I know I wasn't a saint, or anything. I probably did some pretty shitty things. But it was high school. Who didn't? We were all just trying to impress each other, right? It was a crazy, awful time for everybody.” Sari stayed silent. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with him. So she didn't say anything, just let him stumble along for a few moments and then gradually fade into silence.
The park was mostly empty, except for the autism walkers, who were strung out along the path. Ultimately, they would make a big circle, ending up back at the same wide grassy field where they had cut the ribbon to start the walk-which seemed very appropriate to Sari. Years had gone by and here she was, right back where she had started, hating Jason Smith and being aroused by his very presence.
Her silence went on for too long, and Jason said, “Everything all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m glad it didn't rain. We got good weather for the walk.”
“I don't even know who the money's going to,” he said. “And, to be honest, I didn't have time to get any sponsors. It's just… I saw a flyer at the clinic. So I asked Shayda if she knew whether you were going, and she said she thought so. So I came.”
“It's a good excuse to take a walk,” she said.
“It's a good excuse to see you away from the clinic.”
Another silence. Then Sari said, “Zack's been awfully quiet.”
Jason glanced down. “He gets that way in the stroller. Very mellow and relaxed. Sometimes, when the day feels like it's been endless, I just throw him in and we walk for hours.”
She craned her neck to see into the stroller. “I think he might be asleep.”
“I wouldn't be surprised. He was up at four this morning.”
“Oh, man,” she said. “That's too early. Did he go back to sleep?”
“Neither of us did.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Constantly.”
“You should have told me he was having sleep issues. We have some strategies for dealing with them.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Like not letting him nap during the day,” she said.
“Now she tells me.” There was a pause. “I wasn't even supposed to have him today. Denise was. But she said she had to work. On a Saturday morning, she has too much work to-” He stopped.
“I’d like to meet Denise,” Sari said. “Show her what we're doing with Zack.”
“I tell her what I can,” he said. “She's not with him enough for it to matter.”
“Why isn't she?” Then: “I’m sorry. If you don't want to talk about it-”
“Are you kidding? I’m desperate to talk about it. I’m just afraid that if I start, I won't be able to stop. You may run away from me screaming.”
“I doubt it.” She instantly regretted saying that because it sounded flirtatious. But she was curious.
“We'll see,” he said. “Anyway, the thing about Denise is… How do I describe her?” He thought for a moment. “Perfect. She's perfect.”
“No one's perfect.”
“Not her, then. Her life. Her life was perfect. Up until this”- he gestured down at the stroller-”everything in her life was perfect. First of all, she's really beautiful. We met in college and she was just the most-” He stopped. “Doesn't matter. She's beautiful, is all. And smart and talented and athletic and funny and basically just good at everything. So she figured she'd be good at the mommy thing, too. Better than anyone else. Meanwhile, I didn't even want a kid. That's the real joke of this whole thing. I didn't think I was ready.” His mouth curled briefly into a humorless grin. “I’m sure you'll be shocked to hear I’m not the most mature guy in the world. Before we had Zack, I was still getting drunk a lot on the weekends and my career wasn't working out, but I kept thinking what the fuck, I was still young, I didn't have to grow up yet. But Denise just kept moving ahead. In every way she could.”
“What does she do?”
“She's a TV executive. She started as someone's assistant right out of college and kept getting promoted like every six months. And now she has her own assistant. And treats him like shit, I might add.” He swatted at a fly near his face. “Anyway, she talked me into having a kid. She said any child of ours would be amazing, and it seemed-well, it's obnoxious to say, but it seemed like a kid of ours probably would be.”
“It's not obnoxious,” Sari said.
“Yeah, it is. At any rate, she talked me into the whole thing. And when she got pregnant, she was totally into it. She did yoga and drank milk and basically just did everything right. And then Zack was born and he was a really cute baby-”
“He's still amazingly cute.”
“Yeah, I know. But pretty soon things started being weird with him.” He glanced at her. “You know how the story goes. And Denise just couldn't deal.” He thought for a moment, the two of them walking in rhythm, his fingers tapping on the stroller handlebar like he was typing. Then he said, “No, that's not fair. She tried to connect to him at first, but he kept getting worse and eventually it was easier for her to just go to work and let me or Maria take care of him. And when he got diagnosed, I think it just-” He shrugged. “You know. She had always been this golden girl and now she was failing at something.”
“It's not a question of failing,” Sari said.
“Strangely enough, I got that,” Jason said. “I didn't feel like I had failed. I just felt like I wanted to make it better. As soon as possible. But she… You know what she said to me before she moved out?”
“What?”
“She said she was too sensitive to stay. That it hurt her too much to look at him and know he'd never be like the other kids and that's why she had to go. Like the only reason I could stay with him was that I didn't care as much as she did.”
“That's kind of bullshit,” Sari said.
“Thank you for saying that. I’ve never- Uh, excuse me?” This last was to a guy who was kneeling on the pathway in front of them, tying his shoe. The guy jumped up.
“Sorry,” the guy said. “Didn't see you. Oh, hey, Sari!”
“Jeff,” she said, her heart sinking at the sight of her ex-boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you, I assume. The autism walk, right?” He kissed her on the cheek. “I was hoping I might see you here.” He looked pretty much the same as the last time she'd seen him, his back shaped like the letter C, his hair still badly cut and combed all wrong-there was even a familiar sheen of greasy perspiration on his forehead. Fortunately, he no longer looked like she had just socked him in the stomach the way he had the last time she saw him, when she had broken up with him.
It was hard not to compare him to Jason, who stood a head taller, his shoulders wide under a simple V-neck black sweater, his thick hair tousled and wavy. When his eyes caught the sun, they were this unbelievable shade of blue…
Sari suddenly realized that both men were watching her, waiting for her to say something. “I didn't know you were involved with GRAY,” she said quickly. GRAY stood for Get Rid of Autism Yesterday, the name of the organization sponsoring the event.
“Are you kidding?” Jeff said. “They've funded most of our research. I’m fairly certain I told you that.” He had an aggrieved tone to his voice, like she owed him that at least-to remember things he had told her back when they were still going out.
“Oh, right,” she said.
“So.” Jeff stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at Jason. “What brings you here?”
Sari realized she had to introduce them. “Jeff, this is-” She hesitated. “My friend. Jason Smith. Jason, Jeff Fleekstra.”
The men nodded at each other and then they started walking again, Sari sandwiched between the two of them and wildly furious at herself. Why had she made that little pause at the word “friend,” the pause that everyone knew meant someone was more than a friend? Why didn't she just say that he was a dad at the clinic?
More important, why oh why was she so desperate for Jeff to leave them alone so they could talk more?
It was wrong, all wrong, and she knew it. So, while the two men exchanged pleasantries, she worked on pulling herself out of the daze she'd been in. Remember the history, she told herself. Remember who he is.
And, so, for the rest of the walk, she made herself remember.
Arriving back at the field where they had started, Sari spotted Kathleen and Lucy settled under a shady tree. She headed their way, accompanied by Jason and his stroller. Jeff had split off at the finish line.
“Where are David and Kevin?” Sari asked when she reached the others.
“Getting food,” Kathleen said with a nod toward the distant In-N-Out Burger truck.
Jason looked at Sari. “Should I go get something for us?”
“Don't feel you have to,” she said. “If you need to take off or anything-”
“I’ve got time.”
You could tell he was waiting for Sari to give him some kind of clue, let him know if she wanted him to stick around or not. But even her friends, who thought they knew Sari pretty well, couldn't figure out what the blank look on her face meant.
Sari said, “If you want a burger, you should certainly get one.”
That seemed to be encouragement enough for Jason. “Actually, I’m starving. I’ll go see what I can find.” He left, still pushing the stroller.
Sari sat down on the grass and hugged her knees to her chest.
“God, he's cute,” Kathleen said, watching him walk away. “Totally built. But he's got a kid. Does that mean he's married?”
“Divorced,” Sari said. “About to be, anyway. But it doesn't matter. I’m not interested.”
“Why not?”
“Lucy knows. He was a jerk to Charlie. Back in high school.”
“Really?” Kathleen said. “He doesn't seem the type.”
“Well, he was. I was thinking about it all just now, during the walk-about all the awful things they used to do. Like shove the food off of Charlie's tray at lunch. Or bump into him when he was carrying something and make him spill it on himself. Or stick his stuff in someone's locker and lock it in there. They'd throw water at his crotch and act like he'd pissed himself. Stuff like that.”
“Assholes,” Kathleen said.
“And they all called him ‘retard.’ Every one of them. Like it was his name.” She imitated a guy's voice. ‘“Hey, retard, you pissed yourself again.’”
“Fucking assholes.”
“Once there was this assembly,” Sari said. Now that she had started talking about it, she couldn't stop. “They brought out the kids with special needs-they were different ages but all went to class in the same room because that's just how they did it back then-anyway, they brought them out to sing a song. It must have been Christmas or something. So they bring them out and they're singing away and Charlie really loved to sing. Even before he could talk, he could sing. So I’m there with all the other kids, and I hear someone do this fake cough. You know-” She pretended to cough into her hand but the cough was the word “retards.” “And then someone else does it and then pretty soon, all the kids in the whole auditorium are coughing ‘retards’ into their hands. And laughing. Even the kindergartners are doing it and they don't even know what they're saying.”
“What happened to the kids onstage?”
“They just kept singing,” Sari said. “Charlie was up there smiling and singing away. He didn't even notice what was going on.”
“So maybe it wasn't that bad for him,” Lucy said. “If he didn't notice-”
“Yeah,” Sari said. “Maybe it wasn't that bad for him.” She clasped her hands together below her knees. “But I was down there in the audience. I was down there in the middle of it. And I kept trying to get them to shut up and stop and everyone just laughed at me and kept doing it.”
Kathleen shifted forward so she could put her arms around Sari. She hugged her close. “Fucking morons,” she said. “I wish I’d gone to your school. I would have punched out every one of their fucking faces.”
“You can't fight everyone,” Lucy said.
“Where were you during all this?” Kathleen said, turning on her. “Why weren't you helping her make them shut up?”
“I wasn't even there,” Lucy said. “I always tried to go late on assembly days. My mother was very understanding about that stuff.”
“You were the smart one,” Sari said. “Anyway, this guy-Jason Smith-he was one of them. I swear I can see him sitting there, coughing into his hand. That's why it doesn't matter how good-looking he is. He was one of them. And that's all he'll ever be, as far as I’m concerned.”
The other girls were silent, but when Jason came back, long after the other two men had returned, all three of them watched him struggle toward them with the stroller and the bags of food and the cups of soda and not one of them moved to help him.
Kevin eventually noticed and jumped up to give him a hand.
Thanks for coming today,” Kathleen said to Kevin, after he had walked her to her car. “You've officially achieved good-guy status with my friends.”
“It was a pleasure,” he said. “Really.”
There was a pause. “Saturday afternoon,” Kathleen said, glancing vaguely around the parking lot. “It feels like it should be later than one.”
“All that walking,” he said. “I was going to ask you to go running with me, but I’m too wiped out.”
“I don't just run,” she said. “I do other things, too.”
“Ah,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it. Do you go to movies ever?”
“All the time.”
“And to dinner?”
“A girl's got to eat.”
“Dinner and a movie?”
“Even better.”
“I don't suppose you're free for something along those lines tonight?”
“I am,” Kathleen said. “Are you?”
“Definitely.”
“A week ago, you had a girlfriend. You mentioned it in passing.”
“Yeah, well, a week ago, I did.”
She waited.
He smiled. “Not anymore. Not as of last night.”
“That worked out well,” Kathleen said.
“It's not a coincidence.” Then he said, “Those times we've gone running-”
Again she waited.
“I haven't wanted to stop.”
“Well,” she said. “It's good exercise.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“I know. So dinner and a movie tonight?”
“At least,” he said.
That evening, after they had finished their entrées and were relaxing at the table, trying to decide if they were hungry enough to order dessert, Kevin asked Kathleen about her family and was genuinely surprised to hear she was related to the famous Winters twins. “I can't believe you never mentioned it before,” he said. “You'd be an instant celebrity at work.”
“And for all the right reasons,” Kathleen said.
“Life is boring. People need thrills.” He gestured to a waiter, who immediately came running over. Kathleen wondered if it was something they taught you in rich kid school-how to flick your finger just so. “Another bottle of wine,” Kevin told the waiter. “Same kind.” He settled back down in his chair. “So what's it like being a triplet?”
“Weird for me, because they were identical twins and I was the different one.”
“Did you hate that?”
“Sometimes. My mom dressed us all alike when we were babies, and then one year I had different clothes but Christa and Kelly still matched. So I asked what happened and my mother said, ‘Oh, honey, it's so cute on them but on you it just looks wrong.’”
“Ouch,” he said.
“No, it was probably good, in the long run. If I had twins, I wouldn't dress them the same, anyway. People couldn't ever tell my sisters apart, and sometimes that really bothered them.”
“How did they get into acting?”
“This agent stopped my mother at Target one day and asked her if she had any idea how valuable identical twins were in Hollywood. Especially ones that were small for their age.”
“What makes twins so valuable?”
“It has to do with the child labor laws. Any individual kid can only work a certain number of hours, but if you have identical twins, they can both play a single role and double the number of working hours.”
“Cool. But what was that about being small?”
“It just means they can play younger roles as well as their age.”
“It's hard to believe,” Kevin said, “that you have sisters who are on the small side.”
“I know,” Kathleen said. “But my dad's like a foot and a half taller than my mom and I look like him and they look like her. Kind of like if a Great Dane mated with a Chihuahua.”
He laughed. “Sounds a little painful… Do you get along with your sisters? Does the Great Dane play nicely with the Chihuahuas?”
“Yeah, I guess so. They've actually always been pretty generous to me. They paid for me to go to college even though they didn't get to go.”
“Why not?”
“They were stars already. No point. And they had been tutored-badly-on sets for most of their lives, so I think college would have been a disaster for them, anyway.” She looked at him sideways. “How about you? Do you and your brothers get along? It's got to be complicated, working together every day like you guys do.”
He dismissed the question with a quick wave. “It's fine. We get along fine.”
The word around the office was that Kevin's relationship with his brothers wasn't fine, that the two of them had allied in a way that froze him out, left him an outsider in his own family's business. There were meetings he wasn't told about, client dinners he wasn't invited to, projects he never had a chance to weigh in on, information he was never given and looked foolish without. When Kathleen heard all this-Kevin had the office assistants’ loyalty, if not his brothers’-she thought she'd found something they had in common. He, too, was the odd man out. Only now it seemed he wouldn't admit it.
Not yet, she reminded herself. It was just a first date. There would be plenty of time for confidences in the lengthy future she was planning for their relationship. She had to be patient- something, admittedly, she wasn't all that good at.
The waiter came over with their wine. He showed Kevin the label. “It's fine,” Kevin said, without a glance. “Just pour it. I don't need to taste it this time.”
The waiter moved off. Kathleen took a sip of wine and looked up to find Kevin studying her. She was wearing the gold tank top she had recently finished knitting and her hair was loose and wavy.
He said, “So what sports did you play in college?”
“Soccer mostly. But I swam during the off-season.”
“For the school?”
“Just intramurally.”
“When was the last time you swam?”
“Not since I moved out of the twins’ house. Why?”
He leaned forward. “I was just thinking… I keep the pool heated at my place all year round. We could-” He stopped. “What was your fastest time?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your fastest freestyle time.”
“Oh.” Kathleen had to think about it. “I broke a minute in the 100. Once. I don't think I still could.”
“That's pretty fast,” he said. “And you look like you've stayed in better shape than I have.”
“Are you asking me to race?”
He just smiled at her and beckoned the waiter over. Without taking his eyes off of Kathleen, Kevin said, “Check, please.”
So they never finished the second bottle of wine, barely touched it in fact. Kathleen loved that he had ordered it but didn't care whether they actually drank it or not. The wastefulness of the gesture sang of wealth and power and indifference to the kinds of things other people spent their lives worrying about.
Kevin's house was smaller than the twins’, but more impressive. The lot was so big, you couldn't even see his neighbors’ houses once you had gone up the driveway. Inside, all the details were pricey, from the perfectly straight lines of the ceilings and walls-no moldings to cover mistakes and no mistakes to cover- to the vintage Eames furniture. It was clean and modern and architectural, manly and unfussy.
In the foyer, Kevin watched her as she looked around the place. “It's fantastic,” Kathleen said.
“You really like it?”
“It's fantastic,” she said again and meant it.
“Come see the backyard. That's my favorite part.” Once he had led her through the house and out back, she could see why. The yard stretched in all directions, at least as far as she could see in the dark. Tiny lights were hidden among the bushes and trees, sparkling here and there like lightning bugs. “Hear that?” Kevin said. There was a faint tinkling-whooshing sound when Kathleen stopped to listen. “There's a creek down below-it's part of the property.”
“Nice. We're not swimming there, though, right? You mentioned a heated pool.”
“This way.” He led her to a fenced-off part of the yard and opened up the iron gate. “My sister-in-law made me gate it,” he said. “It kind of ruins the way the backyard looks, but she has little kids and wouldn't come visit until I did.”
“Couldn't she just tie her kids to a tree when she comes over?”
“Somehow I don't think she'd go for that.”
“You're just too nice to suggest it.” Kathleen walked over to the edge of the water and knelt down. She put her hand in. “Warm.”
“Eighty-eight degrees. It feels even better when you get your whole body in.”
“Which reminds me.” She stood up, wiping her wet fingers on the side of her black silk pants. “I don't have a suit.”
“Hold on.” He walked down the length of the pool to a row of small cabanas at the far end. He opened the door to one and vanished inside, then reappeared with something dangling from his fingertips. “It's a bikini. Those are one size fits all, right?”
“Not exactly,” Kathleen said. She took the scraps of fabric from him and held them up to the moonlight. “But I think it'll work. Slightly better than being naked, but not much.” She dropped her hand. “Someone wasn't afraid of a little exposure. I don't think I want to ask whose it is.”
“My ex-girlfriend's,” he said. “Does that bother you?”
“Not nearly as much as it would her,” Kathleen said with a grin. “Come on. First race is to see who can get changed faster.”
They emerged from separate cabanas at around the same time. Kevin was wearing longish board shorts that came down to about his knees. His stomach was slightly soft above the waistband but otherwise he looked good. He wasn't too hairy or anything disgusting like that, and his legs and shoulders were strong. Kathleen definitely approved of what she saw, and, from the expression on his face as he checked her out, she was pretty sure he did, too. It was a pretty skimpy bikini, and she knew she filled it well.
“Okay,” Kevin said, gesturing to the pool. “We freestyle to the shallow end, push off, and breaststroke back. First person to touch the wall wins.”
“Got it,” she said. “Ready, set, go.” She dived in neatly and beat him back by a couple of seconds. She clung to the pool edge, catching her breath, as he emerged.
“No fair,” he said. “You dived before I was even ready.”
“Excuses, excuses. I’m just faster than you.” Her legs cycled gently in the warm water. The cool air tingled on her dripping hair and face. The moon was almost full, and she could see Kevin's face clearly.
“I get another chance,” he said.
“I’ll beat you again,” Kathleen said.
“No way,” he said. “No way a girl can beat me if I’m ready.”
“Those are fighting words.”
“I know.” He grabbed on to the wall. “That's the point. And I call ‘ready, set, go’ this time.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll still win.”
But she didn't. He won by a full body length. As she emerged, he was already at the edge, his free arm raised in victory, the moonlight shining on the drops of water along his shoulders. “Oh, yeah, baby! Now who's the better swimmer?”
“Best two out of three,” Kathleen said.
He won again. “God, victory is sweet,” he said. “You wouldn't know, of course.”
“Do you always gloat?” she asked.
He faced her. They both clung to the wall, their hands a few inches apart, their breath coming in gasps. “Only when I have to fight this hard to win.”
“Made you work hard, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But it was worth it. I won, didn't I?”
“Just a race,” she said. Their bodies moved closer in the water.
“Just a race,” he agreed. He reached his free hand out for her and she let herself float toward him. For a moment, they stayed like that, his hand against the small of her back, their legs moving in the water, hitting each other softly. It was so quiet, they could hear the sound of the tiny waves they were making just from treading water.
His hand moved higher up her back and slid under the string of the bikini top, then stayed there, growing warm against her skin. Kathleen let the water carry her against him. She tilted her face up and he put his mouth against hers. The taste of chlorine disappeared into the sweeter wetness of their mouths.
A few minutes later, Kevin lifted his head from hers. His eyes caught the light and glinted.
“Come on,” he said, his voice thick. “It's time to get out and dry off.”
James called Lucy on her cell around nine that evening. “Dinner?” he said.
“I ate already.” Actually, she had eaten a carrot and nine cashews, which, she realized, was only a dinner by her standards (she counted the nuts as protein), but she didn't really want to open the door to eating again. No temptation, no risk of giving in. She was always aware of those forty extra pounds, which, she was sure, were just biding their time in some kind of fat limbo, waiting for her to let down her guard so they could reconvene around her ass and thighs.
Besides, it was kind of late for James to call about dinner. She didn't mind being alone on a Saturday night, but she did mind his assuming she was sitting around waiting for him.
“Okay,” James said cheerfully enough. “But can I come see your?”
“Yeah, okay.” She was definitely up for some sex.
“And can I bring a pizza?”
“If you want.” She wished he wouldn't though-she liked pizza and wasn't sure she'd be able to resist it completely.
Maybe she'd just chew on his crusts.
As soon as she'd hung up, she threw herself into the shower, scrubbed herself down, shaved her legs, underarms, and bikini area, shampooed and conditioned her hair, dried herself off, moisturized her skin, plucked her eyebrows, dried her hair, put on a little makeup, and donned a silk camisole and lounge pants outfit that was both elegant and sexy.
Men, she thought, regarding herself critically in the mirror, were a lot of work.
James, of course, blew in wearing a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt-clearly the same clothes he'd had on since that morning-and sporting some five o'clock shadow. It wasn't fair, Lucy thought and not for the first time.
Still, he looked all right. The stubble suited him. He had the scruffy urchin thing going for him.
“Where's the pizza?” she said as she let him in.
He hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. “Oh, shit, I forgot it. I’m starving, too. Anything here I could eat?”
“Let me see.” She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There wasn't room for both of them in there, so James leaned against the door frame and watched her. “Eggs. Oh, and leftovers from the Chinese food we had last week.”
“Do you think it's still good?”
“I don't know.” She opened a container and sniffed. “Smells okay.”
“You know how to make an omelet?”
“Of course.”
“Heat up the stir-fry, toss it into the omelet, and we'll call it a dinner.” He rapped his knuckles against the wall. “So how was the walk this morning? Sorry I couldn't make it.”
Lucy put the carton of eggs on the counter. “Couldn't? Or wouldn't?”
He smiled, unashamed. “Let's just say didn't.”
“It was fun. Free food, too.”
“Did they make a lot of money?”
“I don't know,” she said. “Do you care?”
“If it's money that would otherwise have gone to research, possibly.”
She got a bowl out, cracked four eggs into it, tossed the shells into the sink. “David came, you know.”
“To the walk?” He shrugged. “I’m not surprised. Probably didn't have anything better to do.”
“Don't be so sure. He's got a girlfriend now.”
“Really?”
She nodded, whisking the eggs. “He said he was going out with a girl tonight.”
James laughed. “That's a date, not a girlfriend. And after she spends an evening enduring the famous David Lee sense of humor, she'll be running for the hills.” He shifted against the wall, then reached into his pocket and started rattling his change.
Bored already, Lucy guessed. “You want to watch TV while I finish this up?” she asked, as she turned back to the refrigerator for the margarine.
“Sure.” He was gone.
By the time the eggs were done, he had already moved on from watching TV to checking his e-mail on her computer.
“Anything interesting?” she asked, putting the plate down at his elbow and resting her hand on his shoulder.
“Just the usual hate mail about how I’m some kind of crazy serial killer.”
“I think it's sweet your mother keeps in touch.”
“Seriously, look at this.” He gestured at the screen. “Apparently I’m going to hell because I don't know that animals have souls.”
“That's only one of the reasons you're going to hell,” Lucy said.
“Do you think they'd feel differently if I told them I don't think humans have souls, either?”
“Probably not.”
He signed off and turned toward her. “I keep changing my screen name, but they find me every time. It's got to be someone with university access. I’m sending this to the police, see if they can trace it.”
“Is it really worth all that?” she said. “It's just a stupid e-mail.”
“It's a hate crime. Punishable by law.”
“Poor baby,” she said, ruffling his hair. “The object of hatred wherever he goes. What is it about you that makes people hate you so much?”
He trapped her hand in his, and pressed it against his cheek. “I don't know. I think I’m pretty lovable. How about you? Do you think I’m lovable?” He pulled her down onto his lap. “Give me a kiss, Luce. I need someone to be nice to me.”
She struggled to sit up. “Eat your eggs before they get cold.”
“Yeah, all right, I’ll eat the eggs. But after that…”
She slid off his lap. “After that, what?”
And there was that grin again, the grin that made her face turn hot and her hands cold.
Fortunately, he was a fast eater.
What, no wedding band?” Lucy said when Kathleen finally swept in the next morning, over an hour late, to Sari's apartment. “When you didn't show up, I figured you were off in Vegas sealing the deal.”
“I sealed the deal,” Kathleen said. “It just depends on how you define the deal.”
“There was sealing?” Sari said, looking up from her knitting.
“Lots of sealing,” Kathleen said. “We had a blissful night of nonstop sealing.”
“You guys are too cute for words,” Lucy said.
“Clearly, someone here needs a good sealing,” Kathleen said to Sari, who laughed.
“If you're referring to sex,” Lucy said, “I’ve been there, done that. Very recently, in fact.”
“Just rub it in, why don't you both?” Sari said.
“Sorry, Sar,” Kathleen said. “So what is there to eat? I’m starved.” She pounced on the dining room table. “Oh, good- muffins. Are these banana? I love banana.” She bit directly into the top of the muffin without even peeling off the paper. “Yum. Sealing makes me hungry. So how is everyone? What'd I miss?”
“Do you talk with your mouth full when you're with your millionaire?” Lucy asked.
“Sure,” Kathleen said. “But not when it's full of food.”
It took a moment and then Sari dropped her knitting so she could throw a sofa cushion at Kathleen. “You're disgusting.”
Kathleen blocked the pillow with her right arm. “She asked.”
“There's something seriously wrong with her,” Lucy said. “Hey, Sari, can you help here? I’m finally starting on the front of the sweater, but the pattern's not coming out right.”
“Let me see.” Sari put her own knitting down on the sofa and went over to squat by Lucy. Kathleen wandered over, unwrapping her muffin, and looked at the knitting Sari had just put down. “I love this,” she said. “This shade of blue. That's going to be one lucky baby.” She stuck another piece of muffin in her mouth.
“Don't get crumbs on it,” Sari said, looking over her shoulder. “Where's your knitting?”
“I don't have it with me. I came straight from… not home.”
“You should keep it in the car so you always have it,” Lucy said. “That's what I do. You never know when you're going to have to waste time waiting for someone at a restaurant or something.”
“Kevin drove,” Kathleen said. “He dropped me off here, so I don't have my car, anyway. But, you know, you're right-I should have just brought it to dinner last night and knitted all through dinner and then taken it with me to Kevin's house. I could have kept it right there on the night table when we were having sex. That way, if I got bored while he was, you know, pounding away-”
“You don't think Kevin might have taken offense?” Lucy said.
“Probably wouldn't even have noticed. He's a guy, isn't he?”
Sari was still looking back and forth between the instructions and Lucy's knitting, trying to figure out what was going on. “You know, Luce, as far as I can tell, you are doing this right.”
“It looks weird.”
“Yeah, but maybe it will look right after a few more rows. Sometimes it takes a while for the pattern to make sense.”
“Or to see that you've been doing it all wrong from the start,” Kathleen said.
“Right,” Lucy said. “That's what I’m afraid of.”
“Have faith,” Sari said. She sat back down and picked up her own knitting. “Sometimes you just have to keep going and hope it's all going to come out right.”
“Sounds like a philosophy for life,” Lucy said.
“Nah,” Sari said. “In knitting, you know someone made the pattern, so a little faith is justified. In life”-she shrugged-“not so much.”
You ever wonder what it would be like to have that much money?” Kathleen asked. She let the Sunday New York Times Magazine slide from her hands to the floor and stretched out full-length on the sofa.
Sam peered over the top of the Business Section at her and said, “I know where you're going with this and you might as well stop right there.”
“Why? Nothing wrong with a little harmless daydreaming, is there?”
“There's nothing harmless in what you're doing. You're thinking maybe you really could snag Kevin Porter and his bank account, and I don't see any good coming out of that train of thought.”
“I am not,” Kathleen said. She reached down and picked up the magazine again but only flipped through it idly, looking at the pictures. Sam's sofas were exceptionally comfortable, and Sunday afternoons, after the knitting circle, she often made her way up to his den, where she could leaf through the Times and doze comfortably on some real furniture. Sometimes she even brought her knitting with her and settled in for a good long stay. Sam had a large flat screen TV and a satellite feed. “A nice guy with a lot of money is not a bad thing,” she said after a moment.
“They should stop telling little girls the story of Cinderella,” Sam said. He turned a page. “It ruins them for life.”
“My mother married for love,” Kathleen said. “It was a disaster. I’m not going to make the same mistake she did. If I ever get married, it'll be for the right reasons.”
Sam lowered his paper. ‘”The right reasons’? You mean like because he's loaded? Oh, that's noble.” He rolled his eyes. “Kathleen, just because your mother was too stupid or too young to realize that Lloyd Winters was an ass doesn't justify your chasing after men for their money.”
“I’m not chasing after anyone,” Kathleen said. “I’m sitting here-”
“Lying here, with your filthy feet on my sofa-”
“Sitting here, very relaxed, having a conversation with my upstairs neighbor. All I’m saying is that it's good to be practical about these things.”
Sam folded the Business Section neatly in half. “Have you ever met Kevin's sisters-in-law?”
“Briefly,” she said. “They come by the office sometimes.”
“And? What are they like?”
“Pretty awful. They boss people around and always look like they just ate something bad and can't get the taste out of their mouths.”
“Do they seem happy?”
“God, no.”
“Doesn't that tell you anything?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Cinderella's got built-in evil stepsisters.”
“Maybe they weren't always evil,” Sam said. “Maybe they're just so miserable, they've forgotten how to be pleasant.”
Kathleen considered that. And rejected it. “Nah, I think they were probably miserable to begin with.”
“I see. So you would be different if you married into that family?”
“Of course I would. For one thing, I wouldn't spend all my time shopping. From what I’ve seen, that's all they ever do. And even I know there's more to life than that. I mean, it's important, but there's more to life.”
“You think that's why they're unhappy? Because they shop too much? You think it has nothing to do with the men they married?”
“Kevin is nicer than his brothers. Everyone says so.”
“Sure, he is,” Sam said. “Nothing like them at all. Why would he be like those guys just because he shares their genes and was raised in the same household and works with them on a daily basis? So… You're not shopping all day long. What are you doing with the Porter fortune and all your free time?”
“I don't know,” Kathleen said. “Maybe using it to help people somehow.” She wasn't sure she believed that, but Sam had a way of getting her to say things in self-defense that she wouldn't normally say.
“Kathleen Winters, philanthropist? Patron of the arts?”
“I wouldn't use those exact words, but, sure, I’d be interested in supporting stuff. Why not?”
“Well, the fact that I’ve never known you to set foot in a museum or concert hall, for one thing. You're like every other kid in your generation-you think because you've seen a couple of independent films, you're the artsy type. But you're really a philistine. You have no genuine interest in ‘stuff.’”
“I never claimed to be artsy,” Kathleen said. “Or classy, or anything like that.”
“Good,” he said. “Because classy and gold-digging don't go together.”
“I like the sound of that,” Kathleen said, wedging a pillow under her neck and closing her eyes. “Gold-digging. It sounds so twenties. Speaking of which, weren't you in college right around then?”
“Grade school,” he said. “If you're going to fall asleep, Kathleen, go back to your place. Last week, you drooled all over the sofa and the cleaning lady couldn't get the stain out.”
“No, I didn't.”
“See for yourself-it's still there. Get out before you do it again.”
She sat up and swung her bare feet around, which were admittedly-as Sam had pointed out-not as clean as they might have been. “You keep throwing me out of here and I’m going to think you don't want me around.”
“Gee, that would be a real shame.” He picked up another section of the newspaper and unfolded it with a snap. He didn't even glance up when Kathleen said goodbye. Then again, he never did.
But this time she stopped in the hallway that led to the kitchen, turned around, and came back toward him. “For your information,” she said, “I really like Kevin Porter. I wouldn't be going out with him if I didn't. I’m not like that.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Sam said and turned another page of his newspaper.