Two crystal tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, illuminated by the light from the door. He wanted to catch them with his tongue, to press his lips to her pale forehead. But he knew better, and sat back in his chair.
“You want to make amends,” Griff said. “That’s good. You should want to. But don’t waste your life over it. Come home to New York, and do something positive with your time. I have a friend who runs a nonprofit that works with girls in the projects. I’ll introduce you to her.”
Kate gave a sad laugh, but it was still magic to his ears. “What, so I can, like, organize charity balls?” she said.
“No. Mentor kids. Give back.”
She smiled, but then her face clouded over. “I’m living with my boyfriend. He wouldn’t want me to.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Really. He doesn’t like me to go places without him.”
“That’s a hassle. Well, come for a week then. Just for a visit. He can’t object to that.”
“For a week?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve got a million frequent-flier miles. I’ll spot you the ticket. First class, as much champagne as you want. How’s that sound?”
She shook her head. “He’d throw a fit.”
“He sounds like a pain in the ass. Don’t tell him, then.”
“What?”
“Is he home now? It didn’t seem like anybody was at home.”
“No. His band plays at this lounge on Wednesday nights. He won’t be home till the morning.”
“Since when does Kate Eastman answer to anyone? Pack a bag and we’ll grab a taxi to the airport. By the time he gets home in the morning, you’ll be halfway to JFK. Leave him a note, if you must.”
“I thought you had a meeting.”
“Nothing I can’t cancel. What do you say?”
Griff made it sound like a grand adventure, a great escape, but he was still surprised when she agreed to come along. They were back in New York the next day. He would have to pretend not to be in touch with her father, so she wouldn’t realize that the whole plan had been orchestrated by the two of them. But that wouldn’t be difficult.
As they taxied, and the skyline came into view, Kate smiled, and tears stood out in her eyes.
“I’m glad I came. Thank you,” she said, and kissed his cheek spontaneously. He thought his heart would explode, that’s how joyous it was to be with her again after so long.
Kate stayed in an apartment Griff had in the financial district, one of several he’d bought in a brand-new condo building, thinking he’d flip them for a nice profit in a year or two. The building was sleek, all stainless steel and smoky blue glass, with million-dollar views. He left her alone there to sleep and to think and to look out at the city. She begged him for some drugs to tide her over, so he got her things that wouldn’t make her worse—some Ambien, a few Xanax, a pint of vodka. He had food sent in, things she liked from when they were in school together at Odell and would come back for holidays. She seemed nostalgic for that time in her life. Griff would visit frequently. Riding the elevator up to the thirty-second floor, he’d get butterflies at the thought of seeing her. They’d stay up late, sprawled across the white suede sofa with wineglasses in their hands, talking. She seemed so sad, but he’d never been happier. Eventually he convinced her to call Keniston and let him know she was back (of course, Keniston had known that from the moment their flight landed), and then to check into rehab. Keniston paid for a place in Connecticut that had an excellent reputation, well-appointed rooms, and wide lawns. It was more a spa than a hospital. Kate stayed there for two months, and Griff visited constantly. By the end, they were together for real, lovers again, and Kate never went back to Paris.
Griff and Kate got married a year later, on the beach in Anguilla in a small ceremony limited to close friends and family. His father’s lawyers had a conniption when he refused to ask her for a pre-nup, but he wasn’t giving Kate any excuses to call off the engagement. Their wedding made the magazines. Kate looked so beautiful, in a simple, elegant white dress, barefoot in the sand with flowers in her hair. For a long time, they were happy. At least, he was happy. It was terrible the way things ended.
The sound of a car in the driveway punctured Griff’s reverie, dragging him unwillingly back to the present. He wasn’t on the beach in Anguilla with his bride. He was in Aubrey’s drafty cabin. Outside the picture window, the lake looked evil and black. He sat up and watched Aubrey come up the back steps, a bag of groceries in her arms. She looked troubled as she fumbled for the key. Griff felt feverish, but his manners kicked in. He staggered to his feet to help her with the bag.
“Thanks,” she said, opening the door as he reached for the bag. “Are you okay, Griff? You don’t look so good.”
“I had a rough night.”
“I can imagine. I got this,” she said, holding the bag against her chest, shutting the door. “I brought you some food, but I couldn’t get those clothes from your house that you asked for.”
Their eyes met. He saw the unease in hers. “Why not?” he asked.
“The police were there, searching the place. They had it blocked off with tape, so I couldn’t’ve gone in if I tried. I decided not to stop. I just drove by. I didn’t want them following me and finding you out here.”
“Good,” he said, leaning against the wall, feeling faint. He slid down to sitting and put his head on his knees.
“Honey, do you need a doctor?” Aubrey asked, alarmed.
He looked up and saw the adoration in her eyes. It had been quite some time since anybody looked at Griff Rothenberg that way, and it made him feel relieved. Not because he reciprocated her feelings, but because he knew he could count on her. He had nobody else in his corner, so that was a good thing.
“No, Aubrey, sweetheart, thank you. But I probably need a lawyer, so if you know a cheap one, I could use a name.”
26
Monday morning, Jenny and Tim barely spoke as they went through the motions of getting ready for work. At breakfast, everybody was out of sorts. T.J. was coming down with something, Reed was nervous about a test. They ran late. The boys missed the bus. Tim left to drive them to school before Jenny could try to make up.