Chapter 11

Kate was standing in the middle of Ella's bedroom, while the girl walked around in a fairy costume, with wings and a pale pink skirt. She looked lovely, but Kate couldn't get over the fact that the bedroom was almost upside down, and it would be up to her to get it right again. She didn't want to think about all the work she'd have after taking the girl to that birthday party, and Ella was not helping. Sensing the change in her mother's humor, since three days ago, she was acting whiny and irritable, not like the happy girl she had always been. Right now, she was sitting on the bed, crying about the fact that the wings were white and not pink. Kate sighed and lowered herself to the girl's level, facing her and placing her hands on hers.

"What's wrong, Ella?" the girl was crying louder, and Kate shook her hands lightly "Hey. Hey, why are you crying?"

"My wings are ugly." She stated, going back to her cries. Kate touched her face softly and looked at the wings. They did look terrible, but that wasn't the kind of thing a mother tells her child.

"They're lovely, baby. They really are!"

"They're not!" Ella picked one of the stuffed animals she had on the bed and threw it against the desk, hitting a picture frame and making it fall. Kate heard the noise of the breaking glass, but she didn't want to look at it, knowing she would lose her temper. The girl was now regarding her with a challenging look on her face, as if the stare alone was a provocation, making Kate's nerves boil. Slowly geting up, she looked down at her daughter, who was still sitting in her bed.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car, Eleanor." The girl looked at Kate with an unmasked disappointment, as if she was expecting her to do the opposite thing, slap her or scream at her. The calm voice Kate was using scared her, so she stood quiet, while her mother went downstairs and picked up the car keys from the table beside the entrance of the house.

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After she dropped Ella at the party, and after a series of crying and screaming during the way, Kate's nerves were wrecked. She needed to be alone for a while, and just relax. Making her way back home, she was surprised at seeing Jack's car parked in the garage. It wasn't a usual time for him to be at home, which made her get suspicious. Walking towards the entrance of the house, she stopped there, her hand with the key halfway to the door, listening. A fear started to invade her, a kind of fear that she had never felt before. What if he was inside with someone? With the woman that had stained his shirt with red lipstick?

Instead of walking into her own house, the fear made her freeze right there, at the doorway, not allowing her to move a single muscle. It was as if it was growing inside herself, coming up from her feet to her legs and her torso, and to her head, making her feel weak and dizzy. Closing her eyes for just one second, she allowed the fear to take over her brain, breathing slowly to get it out, and looked at the door knob. Opening the door and pushing it inside, Kate slowly stepped inside her own entrance, feeling like a stranger, her eyes unfocused and her legs numb.

A noise in the kitchen made her wake up from that sort of trance she was in, and walk slowly towards the sunny and warm environment that she could always find in the kitchen. Looking at the sink, she saw her husband's back, and he looked at her without smiling.

"Hey." Jack said, as she walked towards the sofa, placed in front of the TV, and dropped her purse on it, turning herself to him, as she spoke slowly.

"Hey yourself."

"You didn't forget about that thing tonight, did you?"she looked up at him when he asked this. She had forgotten, but there was no way she would let him know.

"The party at the Cohens? No, not at all. It's at 7, right?" he nodded, and she turned her eyes back to the book she was about to pick up, while he looked at her and took a sip from the hot coffee he was drinking. Kate smiled a bit and picked up her book from the table near the couch, sitting down and opening it at the page she had marked. Looking at the marker, she couldn't avoid a smile that spread across her face. Ella had made it for her, on mother's day, with the help of Miss Rose and the other kindergarten teachers. It was pink, with little red fingerprints and a heart with 'I love my Mom' written inside, made by the teachers. Looking at her daughter's tiny fingertips, she felt her stomach jump, and she had to blink back the tears that were forming in her eyes. Her daughter deserved more than the life she was starting to lead, the false and plastic image of a perfect housewife that was anything but true. Kate was dying inside, especially since the day Claire had invited her to be her daughter's Godmother, since she had set free a part of herself that she had wanted to hide desperately. Kate was starting to overcome Susan, and the fact that the girl's name was going to be Katharine instead of Susan was like a small door to her old self to come out, tearing the life she had been building apart. She smiled, suddenly feeling like 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', one personality trying to hide the other. When she looked up from the marker to the place where Jack was standing, she saw he was preparing to exit, leaving the dirty mug on the counter. She looked at it, feeling a sudden impulse of rage coming over her, making her want to get up and slap Jack in the face, see the way he would react. Would he be upset or just surprised?
These questions were floating in her mind, until she felt the need to talk.

"Jack, please put the mug in the sink." she said, trying to sound nice. He stared at her with that usual smirk that made her get even more angry at him.

"Can't you do it?" he smiled in a patronizing way, as if he was expecting her to retaliate just to have the pleasure of make her sink a little more. She looked back at the book, trying not to give him what he wanted. They could both play this game.

"Can't you?" she said without taking her eyes from the book, smiling at his silence, feeling slightly victorious.

"I'm late. And it's your job." Feeling shocked with his statement, she looked up at him with a cold, insensitive stare. Meeting his eyes, she gave him a sly smile, sensing a war coming. She wouldn't lose. She never did.

"I'm your wife, not your maid." His blank stare gave her all the answers she needed to feel good about herself. Looking back at her book, she sighed out loud. "Now, would you please put the mug in the sink?" she heard him placing the mug on the counter again, and leaving. Smiling to herself, she closed the book and sighed, blinking back tears once again.

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Kate was trying to get Ella's room back in order, picking up toys and clothes from the floor and the bed and putting them back in their due place. She had been doing that for almost an hour, but the girl's bedroom was such a mess, that stuff seemed to appear from the weirdest places. While picking up a stuffed bear from inside the garbage can, her eyes fell on the broken picture frame lying under the desk. Her stomach jumped a little, in anticipation. She knew which picture was there, she didn't need to turn in to herself to see that the picture frame contained a picture of her, Jack and Ella, last summer, in their house at the Cape.

Forcing herself to pick up the frame, she saw the glass protecting the picture was broken. Like a spider web, it was spreading in small lines driving away from one base point. Her face. The glass had started to break from her face to everything else, as if blaming her for the destruction of that beautiful image. Covering her mouth with her hands, she dropped the frame and tried to control the sobs that were coming through her, making her shake like a leaf. Her life was falling apart, and she seemed to be the only one noticing, or maybe it was falling apart just for her, for her emotional stability and for her idea of happiness. But everything was indicating that this was her fault, and that was what she couldn't stand. Jack had betrayed her, but he probably had a reason to do that. Maybe she wasn't good enough for him, maybe she needed to improve, to be better. A better wife, a better friend. Maybe even better in bed, though she had always thought that they were great together. She was now starting to let that thought sink. It was her fault. She was guilty of that, in the same way she was guilty of Tom's death. It was all her fault, she was bad for everyone around her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her cellphone, and it made Kate act in a mechanic way. Knowing she had left it in the kitchen, she went down the stairs cleaning her eyes and face and trying to steady her breathing. Finally reaching the cellphone, she picked the call up without looking at who was calling, and turned to the window, staring at the garden. The voice on the other side of the line made her legs get weak and her left arm reach for the support of the counter.

"Hello?" it was his voice. It was Sawyer. Realizing it was him made her have to muffle another sob, but this time, it was a happy one. She couldn't believe his timing.

"Yeah."

"I bet you thought I'd never call you again." Kate couldn't help a teary smile form spreading on her face when he said that. A feeling of lightness was starting to invade her, as if there was hope for her to be happy again. Not wanting to show this sudden contentment, she tried to make her voice sound as neutral as she could.

"True."

"Well, Freckles, I thought you'd miss me by now." he said with a chuckle, making her shiver "And I wanted to hear your reasons."

"What reasons?" Kate honestly didn't remember what he could be talking about when he said that, but as soon as the words came out of her mind, she realized what he was saying. Feeling herself blush, she covered her eyes with her hands, trying to feel less embarrassed.

"Why did you ignore me?" in someone else's mouth those words would sound needy and childish, but he made them sound normal. As if he was saying that the weather was fine, or asking what time it was. Casual. This thought made her smile again, a shy smile that she almost hid behind her hand.

"Those reasons." She stated, thinking about what she would say. She could say the truth, that she had wanted to kiss him right there, and that she was afraid of actually doing it. She wouldn't say it, no way.

"Yeah."

"Well, I didn't want to have to explain to Shannon who you were." she waited nervously for his response, feeling that lightness in her stomach, that came with the flirty tone in which they always spoke.

"And who am I?" she felt trapped, suddenly, but not in a bad way. What would she say, that wasn't too compromising? An honest answer crossed her mind. 'You're the one I turned to when I found out my husband was betraying me', but it got stuck in her throat. Not wanting to delay this answer any longer, she went with the simpler.

"You're my friend."

"Oh, I'm your friend..." he said, in a playful tone.

"Aren't you?" she answered him in the same way, her despair of only a few minutes ago disappearing from her mind.

"Well, the concept of sex buddy seems to fit better, somehow." She couldn't help an honest laugh that came out of her mouth without time for her to avoid it. She was now relaxing, and she let herself go into the silence that followed without any trace of fear or embarassment.

After a moment in silence, he started talking again, with his usual southern accent and the dragged voice.

"You still with him?" it suddenly got painful. The fact that he was asking her about Jack brought her problems back to her mind, making her shrug a little.

"Yeah."

"Thought you would be." Strangely, she didn't feel offended by this statement. She felt a little curious, and with an almost unhealthy need to reply to his tone.

"What is that suppposed to mean?" she asked, and he laughed a little.

"Nothin', Freckles, no need to get your panties in a twist!" she tried to hide a laugh, feeling a maternal urge to correct his language. Trying not to reveal she was close to laughing by the sound of her voice, she spoke firmly.

"My panties are fine. Charming language, by the way." He laughed again and she did too, feeling like she was talking to a life-long friend.

"It's supposed to be!" a pause came after this last laugh, leaving them both lost in their own minds. When Kate was about to ask him something trivial, he broke the silence. "So, Freckles, I gotta go. But anytime you wanna have a vanilla latte..."

"You had to say it, didn't you?" she laughed a little.

"Yeah." He said this in a low, sexy voice, making her shiver once again. "But anyway, whenever you wanna have that chick coffee..."

"Oh, come on!" she interrupted him again, half laughing, half serious. "It's not that much of a chick thing..."

"You gonna let me finish, Freckles?" she smiled at his request, not wanting to stop the playful banter.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Great. Whenever you wanna have a coffee, or help me buy some flowers, or even complain about your husband, gimme a ring. I'm not usually busy." She couldn't help a smile, feeling suddenly happy.

"Yeah, I'll tell you something when I go to town."

"Yeah." This was said in a low voice, almost as a sigh. She could hear his tiredness on the other side of the line, which was strange and lovely at the same time.

"Ok." She said, not wanting to end the conversation.

"Bye" he said, hanging up. She drew the phone away from her ear and looked at it for a bit, smiling. She couldn't believe how happy she felt in that moment. Smiling like a teenager who just got a call from the cutest guy in the whole
school, she covered her face with her hands and laughed a bit.

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Kate and Jack had been in the party for almost two hours when his cellphone rang and he had to go outside to pick up the call. Kate was left alone in the salon, with her glass of champagne in her hand, looking around. She was looking stunningly beautiful, and she knew it. Her hair was tied loosely in the back of her head, and her black silk dress made her look royal. Despite the good looks, Kate was feeling left out, like she usually did in those black-tie cocktail parties. She knew everyone in that room, and making small talk with the women as she was doing right then made her feel terrible. She hated it, and the only reason she was there was the fact that whe didn't want to admit defeat just then, she still wanted everyone to think they were the perfect couple. So, when Jack came to her, saying that someone was feeling bad upstairs, and that he needed to go check it out, she pretended to be supportive and worried.
Now, standing near a group of older women, she took small sips of her drink and enjoyed the view, thinking of how much Ella would be disappointed when she'd find out that the 'balls', nowadays, were that boring. A couple of hands on her shoulders made her shrug, and she turned around to a familiar face.

"Hey kid." Christian said, smiling.

"Hey." she looked at his side, and noticed the lack of his wife. "Where's Margo?"

"She didn't want to come. She had a headache." He smiled and took a sip of his scotch, while Kate looked back at the crowd. Noticing a young man climbing the stairs quickly, and a woman looking at him lovingly, she smiled a bit. "Trivial."

"What?" Christian looked at her with a sly smile, making her want to laugh.

"How much do you wanna bet that boy just told his wife that someone was sick up there, just to go meet another babe?" Kate felt herself freeze, placing the flute on the table near her with a shaking hand. Christian looked at her.

"Kate, you ok?" she looked up at him, putting her hand on her forehead.

"I think I need to go to the Lady's room. I'm not feeling so well." She left Christian in his place, motionless, while she walked quickly towards the stairs. She walked up to the first floor, and walked down the corridor until she heard a muffled sigh coming out of one of the rooms. Stopping there, she made a move to open the door silently. She succeeded, and when she took a look inside, her body froze for the second time that night. She could see Jack through the mirror, pressing a woman against a wall, and moving in a way that was almost primal, furious. Like he'd never been with her. Turning around silently, she closed the door and walked slowly towards the ball room, approaching the bar with unfocused eyes. The bartender looked at her, waiting for her order, and she regarded him with a dry look.

"I'll have a vodka." He served her, and she took the small drink in a shot, feeling the liquid burning inside her chest. Looking at him again, she focused her eyes on the bottle of vodka. "Another one, please."