He could hear his mother, Louise, speaking to Allison in low tones in the kitchen. She didn’t sound surprised at Ali’s sudden appearance. Paul began to wonder if her appearance wasn’t all that sudden.
When he entered the kitchen, his mother disappeared with two of the coffees.
“How’s your dad?” Allison handed him his cup.
He sipped it quickly, wanting to put off his answer. The coffee was perfect—black with two sugars. Ali knew how he liked his coffee.
“He’s better.” Paul’s voice was stiff as he sat across from her at the kitchen table. “He keeps trying to work, and Mom keeps telling him not to. At least he didn’t make it out of the house this morning. She caught him in time.”
“We sent flowers to the hospital.”
“I saw them. Thanks.”
They sat quietly, awkwardly, until Allison reached her hand across the table to take Paul’s large paw in hers.
“I heard about the wedding.”
He looked at her in surprise.
“Your mom told my mom. They ran into each other at Hannaford’s.” She rolled her eyes.
He shook his head but said nothing.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. She’s clearly a fool.”
“She isn’t, but thanks.” He squeezed her hand. He was going to withdraw, but it felt nice to hold her hand. It felt familiar and comfortable and God knew that he needed comfort, so he kept it there.
She smiled and sipped her coffee. “I know this is a bad time. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here.”
He shifted his weight, focusing on his coffee cup.
“Do you want to go to a movie?” she blurted. “I mean, sometime. Not right now. It’s too early to go to a movie now.” Her cheeks pinked up as she searched Paul’s expression.
“I don’t know.” He released her hand and sat back in his chair.
“I don’t want things to be weird between us. We’ve been friends forever and we promised each other we’d always be friends.” She began to score the sides of her coffee cup with her fingernail.
“Things are just—difficult right now.”
Allison scratched at the surface of the cup.
“I’m not trying to rope you into something. I really want to be friends. I know you’re busy and—stuff.” She began ripping off small pieces of her coffee cup and placing them neatly on the kitchen table.
“Hey.” Paul’s hand shot out across the table to catch hers mid-rip. “Relax.”
She looked into his eyes and saw acceptance and kindness. She exhaled in relief.
Paul withdrew his hand again, wrapping it around his cup.
“We have a history and it’s a good one. But I don’t want to jump back into something with you. It would be too easy to do that.”
“I’ve never been easy, Paul.” She sounded offended.
He cleared his throat and looked her straight in the eye. “I never said you were. What I mean is it would be tempting to go back to what we had because it was comfortable. You deserve to be with someone who’s serious and not half in it.”
Paul lost himself in the momentary silence that followed before realizing that Allison was waiting for something.
He blinked at her. “What?”
“Nothing. So are we on for a movie sometime or what? I might even take you to dinner at Leunig’s, now that I’m pulling in the big bucks as a teacher.”
Paul found himself smiling, and his smile was genuine.
“Only if you let me take you to breakfast at Mirabelle’s.”
“Great. When?”
“Get your coat.”
He followed her to the back door and helped her with her coat. When she nearly toppled over trying to put her Uggs back on, he knelt on the sandy, salt-licked floor and slid them on her feet.
“Half of you is better than the whole of anyone,” she whispered, if only to herself.
Chapter Fourteen
July 2011
Oxford, England
At the beginning of the conference’s lunch break, Julia excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, asking Paul to wait for her return. She was ascending the staircase on her way back to the lecture theater when a pair of Christian Louboutins came into view.
Julia’s gaze traveled up a pair of legs clad in silk stockings to a black pencil skirt, to a fitted jacket, and thence to the face of Christa Peterson.
Her expression was hostile but noticeably tense as she clutched the railing with whitened knuckles. She shifted her weight between her feet as if she were uncertain whether to proceed or to retreat.
“I can’t wait to hear your paper. I’m sure I’ll have a few questions.”
Julia ignored her and tried to move forward, but Christa blocked her.
Julia huffed impatiently. “What do you want?”
“You think you’re so smart.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Oh yes, we do.”
Julia screwed her eyes shut before opening them incredulously. “Seriously? You want to have this argument here, at a conference? Don’t you see how your actions are hurting your career? Gabriel says that Columbia made you enroll in the M.Phil rather than the PhD. You burned bridges in Toronto, and you’re burning them here. Don’t you think it’s time to let things go?”
“I don’t give up that easily.”
“Your vendetta is ridiculous. I never did anything to you.”