It' Probably Me
By the time she'd reached her cottage, Kate's emotional levels had tweaked right back up to piqued. Even though she had been the one to ring Caroline to let her know that Lawrence was with her, Caroline went straight to John. "And why not?" she scoffed, "Not like I've ever done anything for her." Kate leaned against her little car, inhaling the cool air, "Sod it!" she huffed, "I've put up with more than my share of humiliation from that lot!"
You're not the easiest person I ever got to know, and it's hard for us both to let our feelings show…
Not one to be bothered with a television, growing up she was mostly fascinated with nature and the piano, at University she was immersed in language studies, choir and indie films; now Kate found herself with a flat screen at her Mum's insistence. As she aimed the clicker at the black box, other voices began to fill her hushed room. And, in that instance, she could see why her Mum relied upon its company. She rested her back against the soft cushioning of her sofa, surfing the dials until she happened on a documentary chronicling the life and times of a modern day maestro. When she was a child, her Dad had walked her through every nuance of Quincy Jones' stellar compositions and she fell deeply in love with him, partly because he had the look of her Dad, partly because of the look in her Dad's eyes as he talked her through every detail of this man's orchestration.
Kate relinquished herself to full repose with the dried apricots and pumpkin seeds her Mum had prepared for her to snack and settled in for a trip down memory lane guided by a wistfully enchanting and vaguely familiar voice.
When the world's gone crazy and it makes no sense, there's only one voice that comes to your defense…
The last thing Kate had expected to see was Caroline outside her door. Yet there she was, winning the competition against the bouquet of flowers she held in her hands. Be that as it may, Kate would not allow her emotions to sway. She did, however, decide to step aside, let Caroline in this one last time and hear her out.
It was all too clear to Kate that Caroline's confidence was wobbly at best…but she could not help but to be irritated at having to sit through a discussion about birthing partners for the child that was meant to be hers and Caroline's. Mentally, she was no longer present. She needed Caroline to get to her point.
Caroline instead, broached another sore point. "What about Greg? What about him?"
Jesus! Kate thought. Can this woman really be that daft after all we've shared? "No, he really never was part of the equation beyond…" she gestured towards the bundle above her waist. "He has no intentions of being a father to my child. He's a good friend and has done me an incredible favor. If nothing else, I can only hope that he will be a positive presence in my child's life."
"I see." It was good that she was sitting down; Kate's words 'my child' packed a tremendous blow and left her sinking further into depths of despair. "Anyone else?" all hopes quickly being abandoned.
Kate narrowed her enormously dark eyes squarely at the faltering figure before her, "Such as?" arms now carefully folded against her to try and hold it all in.
"Sorry." Caroline, not imagining the tiny speck of light through the swallowing darkness, summoned her gutted vestiges to stay afloat beyond all of the wreckage. "The point is, apart from me coming here to thank you for looking after Lawrence…" swallowing a dry heap of air, "the point is…we had something really nice that happened between us."
As promised to herself, Kate listened to Caroline's soliloquy, her bumbled plea. While it was true that Caroline left much to be desired, Kate's expectations required a little more than 'something really nice'. No…she needed to see the magnificent, sensual, sure-footed, say it like it is woman she'd come to love and trust, unashamed in her lust, thrilled with teaching convention a thing or two. Kate could not take the woman trembling before her, asking for another chance at…what? And so, she sent Caroline on her way.
It's hard to say it. I hate to say it, but it's probably me…