"Martha? What are you doing here?" Kate stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. She wrapped her robe around her, and recinched the belt over her lightweight pajamas.
She gave Kate a warm hug, and looked at her carefully. She made a point of looking at her robe, and then the mostly full bottle of wine with one untouched wine glass on the sofa table. She raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "I've been sitting here for weeks, biting my tongue, willing myself to not get involved. . ."
Kate fidgeted a little under her scrutiny. "And that's why you are standing here in my apartment at . . ." She picked up her phone, realizing she lost track of time. ". . . nine o'clock on a Thursday?" She was actually surprised at how early it was. She had spent the last several evenings moping in her pajamas, which made time go by excruciatingly slow.
Martha waved her hand in the air, dismissively. "I never actually said I thought I could do it forever. I thought the two of you would work things out before I had to give in to my meddling ways."
"It hasn't technically been weeks. More like days."
"Really? When I have to sit back and watch my son make an ass of himself, time goes by very slowly." She rolled her eyes dramatically.
Kate hesitated long enough for Martha to notice, but she recovered quickly, and turned toward the kitchen. "I could make some tea. Do you want a cup?"
"That would be lovely, dear." She took a seat on the sofa, and picked up the wine bottle, examining the label. "This would also work."
Kate brought Martha a wine glass, and they situated themselves on the sofa. Martha turned to face Kate. "I've heard that things did not work out between you and that robbery detective."
"You heard that?" Kate swallowed nervously. She did not want to go down this path with Castle's mother, regardless of how good her intentions may be.
"Heard . . . made a few phone calls . . . what's the difference? So, what made you realize he was not right for you?"
Kate looked stunned, and Martha knew she was crossing a line in her relationship with Kate. What was Kate to her anyway? Somebody her son followed around, taking notes, and tossing meaningless innuendo at? That's what most people probably saw, but not the ones who really knew them and cared about them. They knew that Kate's tough exterior was only a protective barrier, shielding her heart from the pain of disappointment, the same way that her son's glib jibes and wisecracking remarks offered him the same protection.
She swirled the wine around in her glass, staring into it like it was the most fascinating thing ever. "Why do you want to know about my relationship with Tom?"
Distance equals safety. She scoffed at that mentality that lacked logic. Look at them now. They put up their walls. They guarded their hidden feelings. They denied theirselves, and each other, the one thing that would ensure their security and happiness. Each other. She sighed, knowing that making at least one of them realize how foolish they were behaving was not going to be an easy task. "I was just thinking, when Richard left, he was pretty sure you were happy with your detective friend."
"He didn't really give me a chance to tell him otherwise."
"You tried?" Clearly Martha was shocked, or she was pretending to be shocked. It was hard to tell. She was a trained actress after all.
"It doesn't matter. The way it worked out actually makes things easier." Martha saw the hurt creep back into Kate's features, as she tried to hide it with a sip of wine.
"Honey, between us girls, I have been the one in my pajamas before the sun sets with a stiff drink and a half gallon of rocky road a few too many times to not see the signs." Martha just raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if Kate realized that she was not one to be fooled by these sorts of things. "How is this easier? Because you can watch him saunter off with someone he is clearly making a mistake being with, but it doesn't hurt, because you never actually said the words aloud that would make him stay? How is that better, exactly?"
"It's easier, because now I know that . . ." She started off automatically with the justification she had been repeating to herself over and over. It's better this way. It's better to know how things would have ended. It's better to take the sting now, rather than later, because it would definitely hurt more once promises were made only to be broken. She caught herself, and wondered if she should go on. He was her son after all. Martha may be frustrated with him, and his ways, but . . . .
"No, don't stop on my account. Whatever it is, I'm sure I have thought and said much worse. What do you know now that you didn't know before?"
"It doesn't matter. We both messed up. I can't fault him for finding somebody to spend the summer with. Like you said, he thought I was with Tom."
"Oh, no you don't. You don't give him a pass on this one. He wants you." She took Kate's wine away, and sat it on the table, so she would look at her, and not into the depths of her glass. She put a hand over Kate's. "That's right, don't look at me all surprised. He knows he has things to prove to you. He does not slink off with ex-wife number two because things are not progressing the way he wants them to."
"But that opportunity will always be there, whether it's an ex-wife or a former girlfriend or some other random fan or movie starlet wanna be. It's who he is. Somebody will always be there, ready and willing, to stroke his ego when things are not going the way he believes they should. I thought before that maybe it could be different."
After Martha nearly spit out her wine at the visual image of Gina stroking her son's ego, she gathered her composure, and realized what a grasp Kate had on her son's psyche. "You thought it would be different if he was with you, because you know that he cares about you. You are right. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you."
"I was ready to look past my doubts and trust him." She sighed with such drama, that Martha had to bight her tongue to keep from laughing. She patted Kate's hand, and shook her head.
"So, go get him back. I don't think you completely realize the grip you have on him. Tell him your story. He probably doesn't think he ever had a shot at winning your trust. Let him know he hurt you, but remember, if his feelings are as strong as yours, and he has been trying to reach out in his own way and gain your trust, then you've hurt him too."
"We have never talked about any of this. We have never discussed the possibility of any kind of relationship. I cannot just storm into his beach house, throw Gina out, and demand that we have a heart to heart."
"No? Why not? How about starting with letting him know you are not seeing what's-his-name anymore, and telling him you would like to talk. . . alone. Maybe you will have better luck the second time around."
She looked at him with speculation about whether she could really do it. Her stomach felt heavy just thinking about it, but she wasn't sure if it was with dread or anticipation. "What if he doesn't feel the same? What if all of the innuendo was just that, nothing more than talk? What if he prefers to keep his relationships casual?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and she looked down into her lap, studying her fingernails.
Martha's heart went out to her. She could see that Kate was shaken. Her son had his work cut out for him if he wanted to undo his mistakes. She gathered Kate into her arms, and gave her the hug it looked like she needed. "Darling, if he knew, he would be back here in a minute. If he knew that before he left, he never would have gone, but that's not really the point, is it? What hurts is that he was so quick to give up and stroll off with the consolation prize."
"You just came back from where?" He looked at her incredulously, as she breezed by him, and into the foyer of his home. He closed the door behind her, and followed her across the massive living room, to her lookout spot from the large picture window with the ocean view. It didn't matter that it was pitch black, and she couldn't see past the lighted perimeter of his property. She had looked out that window so many times, she had it memorized.
"Kate's. We had an interesting discussion about you and your ego." She turned away from the peaceful scene outside the window. "Can I ask you something?"
"My ego?" He looked confused, but not really surprised. He had been expecting some sort of fallout from his quick departure for a few days. "Do I have a choice?"
"Not really. Did Kate try to talk to you before you left for the Hamptons?"
"We talked briefly, said our goodbyes. Is she OK?" He looked up at her wide eyed, wondering for the first time if that was why she was here, maybe she got hurt, or sick.
"If you want to know, you can call her. Exactly what did she say?"
"What does that mean? You were just there. She's not OK?" He narrowed his eyes and watched her carefully as she tapped her foot impatiently. Kate was fine. This was not mother's worried stance. She was pissed about something.
"Could you please just focus on what I'm saying? Exactly what did she say?"
"I don't know. She said she doesn't always say what she's feeling. She said she enjoys working together. She asked if I was coming back in the fall. Why?"
"And when did Gina show up?"
He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to be patient. "While we were talking."
"Think carefully. This is important. What were you talking about?"
He thought to himself a minute. "She had just told me that she was just going to say it." Her words just came to him, and they were stuck in his head, along with the nervous, yet determined, way she was carefully choosing her words. "Say what? She was trying to tell me something. Do you know what it was?"
"I know one thing she was going to tell you, and I am pretty sure I have a good idea about the rest. She broke up with Tom, right before you left."
He shook his head. "No she didn't. She was with me right before I left. She would have said something." He thought back to that evening again. "The party. She came late. She asked if she could talk to me privately." He sighed, closing his eyes, and remembering. She was nervous, but she was happy, excited even. She teased about not needing a drink to take him, raising several eyebrows in the break room. "Damn."
"Exactly. I hope you realize the extent of the damage you've done."
"She was ready to give me a chance. She was going to let me in. Oh, god." He was pacing now, trying to remember every detail of their conversation. He had been so busy trying to show her how fine he was with her being with Tom, that he never stopped to think that he might be brutally trampling her feelings. He cringed at the way he flaunted rekindling his relationship with Gina in Kate's face. "What did she tell you?"
"Why don't you call her, or better yet, go see her, and find out for yourself?"
"You talked to her. How mad is she?"
"She's hurt, Richard. Lord only knows why, but she thought she might be able to trust you. The exact thing happened that you were both afraid of. Things got rocky, and you cast her aside for a sure thing, somebody who could keep you occupied, but wouldn't ask for any promises."
"Kate was with Tom. Why would I have any reason to think she would care who I spent my summer with?" He lowered his voice, to a very patient drawl. "We were never in a relationship. We never made each other any promises."
"Because you were terrified to promise something to Kate, that you didn't know if you could honor. It is no secret that you have had relationships in the past that have come and gone. This is something new to you, the depth of your feelings for her, and it scares you. You think you are doing something noble, bailing out before you have a chance to disappoint her. You don't see what I see, though. The two of you have something special, and you don't just throw something like that away."
Kate went to bed shortly after Martha left, knowing that as much as she thought about it and agonized over what she would say, she would not be paying a visit to Castle's beach house. There is no way in hell she would put herself back in that situation. She stared at her ceiling, thinking what a really bad start to her summer she was having.
She had almost convinced herself that she was lucky he left, lucky he moved on. She considered it damage control. It was far better for her to see his true character now, rather than later when she was invested. The fact that she didn't have a chance to show all her cards, made the whole thing so much easier to swallow. And then Martha had to show up.
She may have been able to hold onto her justifications, if Martha had not set her on the path of examining the situation from his perspective. Maybe it wasn't completely fair to blame the whole thing on him. She knew her relationship limitations. She had gone so far as to tell him that she was aware she was not an easy person to get to know. She was careful, ridiculously, obsessively careful. She did not take risks when it concerned her heart. If she was going to let someone in, the first thing she would do is make damn sure that he was worthy. Unfortunately, this was not something that could be done overnight. It took time to gain her trust. She was used to seeing men move on before she got to that point.
Eventually she was able to admit to herself that, even though she did not want to accept it, somehow, he still found a way to get past her walls. This is what really shook her. As careful as she was, it scared her that he found his way into her heart, and then trampled on it right in front of her, while smiling at her, and making small talk with his ex-wife at the same time.
She was pissed. Pissed at him for being so oblivious, for him not realizing what it was she was trying to tell him. She was ready to do it. She was willing to put herself out there, lay it all out on the table, and he didn't have a clue.
She couldn't stand the walls of her apartment closing around her any longer, so she went for a run. A long, hard, pounding run always cleared her head, made it impossible for her to cling to the demons that were following her. She ran until she physically could not any longer, until her tears were blurring her vision, and she had to find a park bench to collapse on. She didn't know how long she sat there, but when the chill from the cold night air started to seep in, she took a cab home. She showered, and slept soundly for what was left of the night.
She was surprised when just a few hours later, there was a knock on the door. She was pretty sure everyone had picked up on the fact that she did not want company, and that her personal life was not going to be the topic of conversation any time soon. She pulled a sweater off her shelf, and pulled it over the tank and pants she slept in. She flung the front door open, wondering which of them didn't get it. She could only blink when she faced Richard Castle standing in the doorway.
She finally remembered to speak, not completely trusting her voice not to betray her. "Martha called you." She should have known. Martha could be very persuasive.
"Oh, it's better than that. She came for a visit. Do you know the last time my mother hunted me down to yell at me for screwing up a relationship?"
She only shook her head, still a little dazed by him showing up at her doorstep mere hours after her talk with Martha.
"Never. Apparently you've made an impression."
"She came here first. She was trying to talk me into paying you a visit."
"I guess she realized, as stubborn as you are, that would never happen. She's one of those if-you-want-something-done-right-you-have-to-do-it-yourself type of people."
She didn't know what to say to him. She leaned against the door frame. She wondered how much he knew.
"You were not even going to let me know?"
She swallowed hard, deciding that playing the oblivious card was the best way to go. "Know what? You are aware it's four am?" She yawned on cue.
"You didn't expect me to wait until morning, did you? I came as soon as I found out what happened." He could tell how tired she was. She looked completely drained. "I had no idea you ended it with Demming." She avoided looking at him, and it made it harder to gauge her feelings, but he could see that she was deeply hurt. "We were close, closer than we have ever been."
It hurt seeing him. She didn't expect that. She felt the lump in her throat expand.
"I know I deserve it. I know I botched everything I have been working towards, and I am totally accepting all the blame for this, but you weren't even going to let me know that the situation had changed? I was just doing what I thought was right, considering the circumstances. He's a good guy. You were happy. It was time for me to step back."
"So why are you here? Why does it matter to you? You are supposed to be on a break."
"I had to take a break from the job, from seeing you with Demming, from hearing about the two of you together, not from you." He tried a smile to charm her into letting him in. "Are you trying to be difficult about this? Maybe I'm not making myself clear. I didn't want to lose you, but even more than that, I could not watch you find happiness with him, with anyone else. When I said I needed a break, I meant it. I think we both needed our breathing space."
She sighed. She didn't have the energy to make him understand. She didn't know how to explain to him that she did not need a blonde on her arm, and a summer long break to figure out what she wanted. Or maybe that's exactly what she needed. Wasn't Tom just her version of Gina? Somebody to create a little space, somebody to try on and realize that it wasn't quite the right fit? She couldn't fault Castle for Tom coming into her life first, and bringing a big dose of realization with him. "And now?"
"Now? Now I just want to see you. I could say that I want to make sure you are OK, but I know you will be, with or without me. I've missed you." He stepped forward to give her a hug, and she stepped to the side, allowing him to come inside, and pretending to misinterpret his attempt at an embrace.
Castle stood awkwardly inside her front door, and pondered the tense atmosphere in the apartment. Kate wrapped her sweater more tightly around her, and stood with her arms crossed in front of her. "You've missed me? That's a good one. I wouldn't think you would have had the time." She laughed, but succeeded in making it sound anything but funny. "So, the book. How is that going? Gina keeping you in line?"
"Fine. The book is going fine. No, not really fine. It's actually not going, at all. Gina took what I managed to get down, but it's junk. The book, I mean." He couldn't think straight. He was standing there in her foyer making small talk, and not just meaningless small talk, awkward small talk. He didn't want to talk about the book, or Gina. He wanted to talk about what was happening to them. If her refusal of a simple hug was any gauge to her mood, it is unlikely that she would be doing any talking about mending their torn and mangled relationship any time soon.
"Too much sun, sand and surf? No time for writing?"
"Actually, just the opposite, too much time, too much peace and quiet, too much opportunity for my thoughts to wander."
"Wasn't that kind of the idea?"
He sighed this time, only more dramatically. He put his hands on her shoulders, and bent forward so he could look her directly in the eye. "I can not concentrate on the fictional us, when things are not right with the real us. I can not concentrate on writing at all, when all I can do is wonder what is happening back in the city, what I am missing out on. All I did was think about you, and you and Tom. It was frustrating as hell."
He believed that saying his thoughts out loud would, if nothing more, shock the hurt, sad look out of her eyes. To his surprise, she didn't seem shocked at all. Looking into her eyes, he wondered if he was crazy to see that she sympathized, maybe even felt a little of the same for him. He could also see that she was not even close to admitting it, which was a really depressing thought. He didn't know how long he could go on wondering how much of his feelings were reciprocated. He had decided to check his pride at the door, and come clean. He wanted her to be absolutely clear about what he wanted. He never thought until that moment what he would do if he didn't come away with the answers he hoped for.
"I'm sorry. I thought he . . . Tom, would be best for you. You never really told me in words, but you had me convinced that I could not be trusted to not end up letting you down. Tom seemed safe, and you seemed happy with him. I was not the kind of person that you could give your heart to, and know it would be safe. Considering my track record, you were not wrong to feel that way, but I was wrong to believe it, and to keep letting you believe it. I know what you mean to me, and I should have done my part to convince you that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you . . . "
"We both know there are no guarantees in relationships." She hated the way her voice sounded. She was miserable, and had no idea what she wanted, or how much she would risk. She needed time alone to think. She knew she didn't want to give up on him, but she wasn't ready to take the leap of faith yet either.
"No. If that's what you need, a guarantee, that is the one thing I can't promise you."
"I feel like I don't have a safe choice." A tear escaped, and she wiped it off her cheek quickly with the back of her hand.
"You did, but that ended up being not what you wanted. Now you are just left with me." He expected at least a smile, but she was still standing her ground, and keeping her distance, avoiding looking at him.
"I don't know if will help at all, but there is something you should probably know before you seal our fate. I have had a lot of time to think, and there is something I have realized over the last several days. There are only three people I can think of, in existance, that I would give up everything for, including my own life, to insure their happiness and safety. You have made my short list."
She finally looked up at him, and he realized the shock factor worked. "I don't know what to say." She felt tears approaching again.
"You don't have to say anything. Just don't tell my mother. I would never live it down."
"She would be proud."
"Proud that her son, who is approaching forty, puts his happiness in front of the entire population of the world, less three?" This time he got the smile he had been working for, even though it was tarnished a little bit by the tears gathering in her eyes. "Are those that-was-a-nice-thing-to-say-but-the-answer-is-no tears, or are they you-are-so-charming-how-can-I-not-say-yes tears?"
"They are I-am-saying-yes-because-I-think-you-are-worth-a-little-pain-and-discomfort tears." She actually laughed, as she wiped her hand across her eyes.
"You make it sound like I am asking you to go to the dentist." He was beaming like an idiot. He could feel it, but he couldn't stop, and he didn't want to. "Are you sure?" Finally, he took another step closer to her. "I mean it. I really want you to be sure."
Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid to speak. It was so confusing. She wanted him with the same intensity that she was afraid of him. "I don't want to lose you, but . . . "
"But you still have doubts. It doesn't matter." He brushed the back of his fingers across her damp cheek. "I am more than happy to have the chance to prove you wrong."
She was the first one to go to him. She needed his reassurance now, even though she knew later she would still worry and wonder about the possible outcomes of her decision. She took a hesitant step, and then another, and then found her arms around his middle, and her face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt. It felt good. It felt new, and comfortingly familiar at the same time.
One of his arms wrapped around her, and held her tightly against him, while his other hand tangled in her hair. He rested his chin on top of her head. "You won't regret it. I'll make sure of it." He placed a kiss softly on top of her head, not wanting to let her go.
She turned her head, and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as she let herself be calmed. "You better make sure of that. I have people that would track you down."
She heard his laugh, and felt the vibration coming from his chest. "You've reminded me many times that you have a gun. I'll be very careful to stay on your good side."
