The Saturday before, Eileen brought coffee and cake to him in his home office and saw him with photos scattered about the floor and a half-empty shoebox in his lap. She had never seen him like this. She placed the coffee and the plate on his desk and squatted next to him.
“Do you want to talk?”
“I was just doing some reminiscing. I do that now and then, and it’s not about us. Don’t worry. She was so important to me.”
“I know she was.”
“…And to Andi and James. She still is.”
“She always will be. I know that and you know I always want her to be. But I’m long past the point where I thought love was a finite resource. Me, more than anyone, understands that love can go to infinity…and beyond.” He smiled at the cheesy reference.
She stood to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his hair.
“I brought you coffee and cake. Enjoy. I’ll be downstairs,” then, as she was about to close the door he said, “leave it open. I’ll be down in a little bit.”
She chided him, “make sure you pick all this up and put it away and, yeah, I do love you.”
“I know…. And I love you back. I’ll be down…. Thanks for the coffee and cake,” this last bit echoing in the hall as she was halfway down the stairs.
Kate
Things are happening pretty quickly here as the bride and the groom are doing their final preparations. To the question how-did-Kate-end-up-setting-up-the-wedding?, the answer requires some explanation.
Five days after Mary and Betty got married in June, Kate returned to California. She made some major decisions en route. The lack of clarity she felt on her way to New York was a crystal-clear view on the trip from New York.
While in New York, she called William, her husband. When his reaction to her bubbling over about Suzanne and Kerry and Eileen and the rest was “they’ve just brainwashed you,” she decided it best to discuss it further only in person. She next called him the day before her trip to San Francisco, giving details of her flight and saying she had keys and would take a car to the house. That it was her “home” was already and inevitably slipping from her.
Her flight landed just after one on Thursday afternoon and she was through the door in Mill Valley by two-thirty. Away for barely over a week, she was shocked at how disheveled things were. If she was ever away with her husband in the house, it was only a few times for a day or two. Now it looked like she imagined a frat house would. This was not helping her mood. She spent an hour loading the dishwasher, putting on laundry, and placing the recyclables strewn about, including the pile of unread newspapers, still in their home-delivery bags, in their proper receptacles.
After texting him from JFK when she was boarding, confirming that she was coming, she had not followed up, and he had not asked.
When the worst of the house was handled and her luggage in what had been (but no longer was) Suzanne’s room, Kate took a long, hot shower. In just a towel and with an apprehension that surprised her, she went into the master and found underwear and casual pants and a white polo, and she took them to Suzanne’s room, where she dressed.
She did not bother to dry her hair. It was early, not yet five, but she fixed herself a gin-and-tonic and went into the living room to wait. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the many photos now on it, of her with Suzanne and Suzanne and Kerry and…just an abundance of happy memories placed on a phone where none had been until the two photos taken at the Hans Christian Andersen statue in Central Park.
She hit speed dial “3” and told Suzanne she was at the house and waiting for “your father.” Suzanne simply said, “Good luck” and “let me know how it goes.” At which point Kerry grabbed the phone. “She’s trying to be calm and not doing a good job of it. And I love you Mother” and a moment later it was Suzanne saying, “I love you too so good luck and call us whatever time it is. We’re not going to sleep until we hear from you.”
“I love you both. I promise to call.”
They hung up, and Kate smiled and continued reminiscing through her photos.
Kate was still on New York time and dozed off. William woke her.
“Welcome home. Can I get you something?” It was about seven-thirty. His voice was more tentative than she was used to, though he tried to make it cheerful.
“I’m tired and I’m hungry,” she told him, “but we need to talk now.”
“I’m getting a drink. Do you want a refill?” He pointed to her empty glass. She shook her head. When he returned with a glass of his favorite single-malt, neat, he sat next to her on the sofa. This made her uncomfortable and she got up to sit on a wing chair. He removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his collar.
She had rehearsed this.
“We were wrong.
“You know I love you but we were wrong, and we almost ruined everything. I see that now.
“Kerry’s mother—Kerry is Suzanne’s fiancée—” He visibly recoiled at the word. “She called out of the blue. It was the most upsetting call I ever received. That coffee stain on the kitchen wall, which I cleaned, was my reaction to her, her name is Eileen Neally, calling to gloat that her daughter was supposedly engaged to Suzanne. Eric thought something terrible happened to me. And it did.