Jamie’s eyes widen to saucers. “Me? This was your idea!”
“Well, it was easier in my head,” Bill mutters. “I prefer my battles and confrontations left squarely in literature.” Drawing in a breath, he sets a hand on my elbow, then says, “Christopher. You know I love you like a son.”
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I hate when he says that as much as I love it. I’ve tried to protect myself, to keep myself from getting too close to Bill and Maureen, seeing them like a second father and mother to me. Moments like this remind me that ship sailed years ago.
I was thirteen when my parents died, when my paternal grandmother came to live with me and offered about as much comfort as those needle-packed pincushions she left all over the house. So I found comfort next door in my parents’ best friends, Maureen and Bill, in their daughters, who became even more like sisters to me—
Well, at least two of them.
I push away aggravating thoughts of Kate as quickly as they arrive, focusing on Bill.
“I know,” I tell him quietly.
“Good.” He pats my elbow once more. “Bear that in mind with what I’m about to say.” Clearing his throat, he laces his hands in front of him, elbows on the table. “What happened at Thanksgiving, as well as some further . . . insight”—his gaze slides to Jamie, then back my way—“has led to an epiphany.”
“Whose epiphany?”
Bill tips his head from side to side. “Mine. Maureen’s. I won’t speak for others.”
Jamie is quiet beside him, adjusting his watch so the face bisects his wrist bones.
“And what was that epiphany?” I ask, trying not to sound testy, but the fact is, I’m not used to being the one in the hot seat, waiting for insight. I run a company and my life with utmost control. I don’t do well with unknowns and anticipation.
Staring at me intently, Bill says, “Indulge me in a Socratic inquiry, Christopher.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “You can take the professor out of the classroom—”
“But you can’t take the classroom out of the professor,” he says. “Too true. And the Socratic method of teaching served me well for many years, young man, so stay with me.”
“I’m staying.”
“Good. Now. How do you think Kate feels about how you two get along?”
I blink at him. “Feels? I think she feels that we get along terribly.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“Because we get along terribly. Because since she graced this fine earth with her presence, she’s provoked me and I gave it right back. Because unlike the rest of you, I haven’t hidden my disagreement with her choices, my concer—my disapproval, I mean—of how she lives.”
“How do you know that we see it like you do?” he asks.
I frown. “Don’t you? How can you not? How can you not take issue with her living that way, taking on so much risk, even outright danger?”
“When you have children, Christopher—”
I snort skeptically.
“—you’ll understand. They’re your heart beating outside your chest, but there’s no putting it back. You learn to live with the fear, because that’s what it is to love them.”
“That sounds hellish.”
“It can be,” Bill admits. “But what’s truly hellish is seeing your child hurt. And it’s not just Kate I’m talking about. What Juliet just went through, the toll that took on Beatrice, the toll this is taking on Bea now . . .”
I glance toward Jamie. “The toll on Bea?”
Peering down at his cuffs, he straightens them. “Well. To put it . . .” He sighs. “Oh hell, I don’t know how to put it in a way that spares your feelings, so I’m just going to be honest.”
“Please.”
“Bea called me very upset this morning. She said Kate told her things about your relationship, explained it in a way Bea had never picked up on that made her feel terrible. That made her feel like she has to take sides. And now she’s worried it’s going to be how things were with Juliet and Jean-Claude all over again, having to choose between people she loves because of this, creating tension and factions in the friend group, in your family.”
I sit back, wrestling with what I’m hearing. “What did Bea tell you specifically?”
Jamie hesitates, then says, “I don’t feel like I can say that without betraying Kate’s confidence in her.” He glances at Bill.