She stood tensely, listening to the rustling sounds coming from the baby monitor. Thirty minutes, that's all that Nate had been asleep. Time enough for her to walk wearily down the steps and pick up some of the mess from that morning, but not nearly time enough for her to catch her breath and feel like she had accomplished anything. Willing him to sleep, she fought back a rising tide of panic as she heard the first whimper. Breathe, she told herself desperately, feeling close to tears. Quickly, the whimpers escalated to cries and she dutifully turned toward the stairs and climbed toward the nursery.
Crossing to the crib, she silently surveyed his red, angry face as he looked up at her accusingly; relenting, she picked him up.
'It's okay, Nate.'� She told him, her voice tinged with exasperation. He cried harder and finally she carried him to the sofa, baring her breast for his greedy mouth. Like a tiny kitten he latched on hungrily and used his free hand to knead her breast in contentment.
Sighing, she looked out the window. The weather was warm and she could see the mothers from the neighborhood out in droves, pushing their children up and down the streets with the too-cute names. Usually there were at least two mothers in a group and they would be dressed in their designer leisure pants and college sweatshirts, chatting exuberantly while their cherubic children lay listlessly in the stroller watching the world go by. She had gone out with Nate in the stroller once or twice, passing the groups of women one by one and trying to tell herself that she wasn't really so different. After a few blocks of cheery waves and too-bright smiles she had beat a hasty retreat back into her air-conditioned home. She tried to tell herself that it was the remarkably stifling summer heat that had her splashing cold water on her face in the bathroom and drinking in gulps of the cold air from the air conditioning vent. But she knew deep inside that it was the difference in her, the strangeness in her soul that made her run for cover. She could feel, walking on the evenly paved sidewalks that ran along the perfect lawns'�she could feel the unbelonging. She often wondered if the other women could see it on her too, or perhaps smell it on her like the super evolved animals that they all were. Could they see the difference, the strangeness?
Looking down she saw that Nate had fallen asleep at her breast, his tiny mouth hanging open and his breathing deep and regular. As always, she knew that to lay him down would mean instant screams, so she sat holding him, bored and listless. That familiar tug of love and resentment pulled at her heart and she wondered how she had come to this point. For Nate had been wanted, desperately and joyously. And yet the reality of what life had become was so far from her girlish ideal that she sometimes had to laugh. But all too often the laughter turned to tears as she wondered what was wrong with her. What flaw deep inside refused to allow her to simply enjoy the miracle that her body had produced? For Nate was a miracle, fat and healthy and laughing. When he had first been laid in her arms she had felt a primal belonging, a connection that had never been so intense. When he first drank from her milk, the animal pleasure of nourishing her son was beautiful and right and filled her with a joy that was indescribable. When had it changed? Was it the night after night of sleeplessness? Or was it the hours that she had spent nursing this tiny, helpless human being while her mind stagnated in front of the television, the only activity that she seemed to have the energy to manage? Perhaps it was realizing that the perfect marriage that she had bragged about for years had turned into a cliché? She didn't know; she simply knew that the warring in her heart of love and resentment left her exhausted and guilty most of the time. She couldn't bring herself to discuss her feelings with anyone for fear of their instant repudiation of her as a mother, instead the feelings gnawed at her like a sickness and left her drowning in shame.
Her husband, to whom she had felt bound for life with a hundred chains of love and awareness and knowing, seemed to slip further and further away from her. It saddened and angered her to feel the connection start to wear thin, because he had always been her best friend. Together, they had made the perfect partnership: Intimate without being intrusive, bound without being dependent, and every day together was filled with the sort of sexy companionship that had made her swear that her marriage was perfect. Yet now, each morning as he rose from the bed to begin his day, heading off to a workplace filled with challenge and adult conversation, she felt seeds of resentment grow inside her. Each night as he came home and discussed current events, coworker's antics, or even the movie review that he had read on his lunch break, the seeds rooted a little deeper. It didn't help that when he would lovingly ask, 'What did you do today?'� that she could think of nothing more interesting than the latest episode of Sesame Street or a new cleaner that removed the spit-up from Nate's clothes. What had happened to the intelligent connected woman that she used to be? What had happened to the intense, witty banter that they used to exchange? Like the lovemaking that had brought Nathaniel into being, it was simply one more thing that seemed to have vanished, creating a widening chasm between them that she didn't know how to cross. It wasn't as though she could point to him and accuse him of abuse or harsh words or even neglect. He expected very little of her these days; being a caregiver for Nate and taking care of the most basic household chores. He was happy with that; or if not happy, at least patient as she adjusted to the changes motherhood had wrought in her life. Even when he would initiate sex and she would refuse, too tired to even make a show of desire, he was patient and loving and gentle. He never accused and never acted put-upon; he simply continued on with his life as though little had changed between them. No, it wasn't Paul who had changed, he was still the gentle, loving man that he had always been; it was all inside of her. Knowing that she was the only one carrying this burden of crushed dreams and disillusionment made her feel even worse.
Shaking off her negative thoughts, she made the effort of carrying Nate's sleeping body to the crib and laying him gently inside of it. Holding her breath as she eased away, she felt a ridiculous relief when he kept sleeping. Quietly, she began to move around the room and finish the job of picking up the odds and ends. Looking at the clock, she muffled a sigh and went to lay out food for dinner. Whatever window of opportunity Nate was giving her would only be open for a very short while.
Later that night she sat trying to coax some jarred baby food into Nate's messy mouth while she and Paul finished up dinner. Unlike the past when words flowed from their mouths easily, the conversation between them was brief and somewhat strained. Dealing with Nate and caring for his needs took up so much time that it was difficult to finish a thought, much less a whole conversation.
'So,'� Paul said between bites of the frozen entrée and bagged salad that he uncomplainingly ate, 'how was your day?'�
'Okay, I guess,'� she said, grimacing at the perfunctory question, 'If you count changing six dirty diapers and cleaning up a quart of spit-up as a day.'�
Paul looked down at his plate sadly and she felt instant contrition and a stab of anger. 'Seriously, it was fine.'� She went on in a hurried voice. 'Nate crawled some more today and I was able to lay him down for a few minutes.'�
'He crawled some more?'� He asked, visibly brightening. Standing and taking his plate to the dishwasher, he stacked it neatly and then came back to the table to kiss Nate's downy head. 'Way to go, kiddo.'�
Bending over her with a smile and a 'Thanks for dinner, honey,'� he kissed her on the forehead and left the room.
She looked at Nate and the mashed bananas smeared on his face and hands and bib. Then she looked at her own half eaten dinner that was already cold. Feeling a wave of despair roll over her, she gave in to the impulse to hang her head and cry. Muffling her sobs so that she wouldn't upset her son or allow her husband to hear, she wished with all her heart that her mother were living so that she could simply be held and understood. The needy child inside her cried out for some sort of comfort, but she knew that she was an adult and there was no one to turn to. After a moment she lifted her head and wiped her eyes; it was time for Nate's bath.
As they lay in the bed that night, Paul said, 'Don't forget that the carpenter is coming tomorrow to start putting in those shelves in the basement.'� He paused a dutiful half-second and asked politely, 'You don't have plans, do you?'�
'No,'� her voice level and her expression bland even in the dark, 'I don't have plans.'�
When he rolled over to her and began to rub her back she tensed until his hands stopped moving.
'It's been a long day.'�
She could hear his sigh of disappointment and he slowly rolled away. She wasn't certain how much of her refusal was based on exhaustion and how much was based on anger at him for adjusting so well to this new life, or the fact that there seemed to be so little that he needed to adjust to. But as soon as the decision was made to not make love, a tiny knot of guilt and sadness lodged themselves in her chest. She imagined his hands on her and the way he used to play her body knowingly and she felt a stirring of desire and nearly turned to call him back to her.
'Sleep well.'� He said as he settled into his corner of the bed.
Sighing, she looked at the clock: 10:45. She knew that in only a couple of hours she would be up again to feed Nate, who didn't seem to realize that night time was for sleeping. Closing her eyes and doing her best to quiet all the thoughts rushing through her mind, she focused on sleep. All too quickly Nate's first cries woke her and she was pulling herself from the bed resentfully to tend to his needs. Paul never stirred.
The next morning she rose a few minutes before Nate and dragged herself to the bathroom. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she slowly stripped off her pajamas until she stood nude. In disgust she ran her hands slowly over her now slightly sagging stomach with the pink stretch marks that stood out vividly against her pale flesh and then ran her hands up to cup her enlarged breasts. Sighing, she thought back to when they had been nothing more than ornamentation and had jutted up proudly, jauntily. Pregnancy and constant nursing were beginning to take their toll and she realized that the twenty-year-old breasts that were in her memory had turned into thirty-one year old mommy boobs. Still, she looked fairly good, even if it mattered little to anyone except herself. Resolutely she dropped her hands and grabbed a hairbrush to drag through her dark hair until it was a shining sheet around her face. Pulling it up, she secured it with a rubber band and left it to hang in a ponytail. Not bothering with makeup, she pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee before Nate woke up.
Just as she was about to take a sip, she saw a truck pull into the driveway and she walked to the door to open it before the doorbell could be rung. She waited for the man to come up to the door and, seeing the toolbox in his hand, opened it for him and found herself looking into the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, green the color of the ocean before a storm.
'Good morning,'� he said to her in greeting, 'Mrs. Chaston?'�
She nodded and smiled somewhat nervously. 'That's me.'�
'Eric Tolliver.'� He told her with a smile, setting down the toolbox and holding out a hand, 'I'm here to install some shelving for you.'�
'Great,'� she said, feeling a flutter of attraction that was unusual for her as their hands met briefly, 'Come on in and I'll show you the basement.'�
Hefting the toolbox again, he followed her as she grabbed the baby monitor and headed for the basement steps. She flipped on the lights as she went and then led him into a large room that was mostly empty except for a small writing desk and a chair.
'Here's where we were wanting them.'� She said, sipping here coffee. 'Do you need anything before you get started?'�
'No,'� he shook his head, 'I've got to get a few more things from the truck, so if you don't mind letting me come in and out'�'�
'Feel free.'� She told him, then shot him a look of warning, 'But if you wake up my son a moment before he's ready, I'll have to kill you.'�
He laughed and she thought again how strikingly attractive he was. Dark blond hair lightened in places by the sun, and miles of golden skin stretched over a tautly muscled body. She looked at him for a moment, like an artist in appreciation for beauty, and then moved on.
'Do you want a cup of coffee?'� She offered.
'That would be great,'� he said looking pitifully grateful, 'since I forgot my thermos this morning.'�
'Cream? Sugar?'�
'Black.'�
She went and poured him a cup and crept upstairs to check on Nate. He sprawled on his back with his tiny mouth open, his cheeks rosy from sleep. She smiled and took the carpenter his coffee.
'Thanks.'� He told her as she handed it to him. 'I owe you.'�
'No problem. Eric, right?'�
'Right. And you are'�?'�
'Kate.'�
'Nice to meet you, Kate.'�
'You too.'� She turned to go, then turned back to him. 'If you need anything, I'll be right upstairs. Just yell for me.'�
'Okay. Thanks.'�
As she climbed the steps she heard Nate waking and she rushed up the steps to get him. He was sitting up in his crib looking around for her with a frightened look on his face.
'Mama's here, sweetie.'� She crooned to him, pulling him up and into her arms. 'Let's get you changed.'�
She changed his diaper and dressed him for the day, then sat down with him in the rocker to nurse him. As her milk let down, she looked down to find his big, brown eyes on her face trustingly and curiously. She felt a wave of love for him so intense that tears sprang into her eyes and she wished that she could be as completely happy all the time as she was right at that moment.
'Kate?'�
Breaking her train of thought, she hurriedly disengaged Nate from her breast and pulled her shirt down. Going to the stairs, she looked down to see the carpenter standing there with a questioning look on his face.
'Yes?'� She replied.
'I need to ask you something before I get started.'� He grinned and looked at Nate, who was making tiny, impatient noises and pulling at the neck of her shirt. 'Is now a bad time?'�
'No,'� she moved Nate's hands gently, 'now is fine.'�
Once in the basement, he showed her a quick sketch of the shelving that he would be installing.
'What do you think?'� He asked, 'I can put it right here or over here. I discussed this all with your husband when he got the estimate, but he said to discuss the actual placement with you. Which will be more convenient for you?'�
She debated between the two and finally picked one. She looked up to find him watching her intently.
'What?'� She asked self-consciously.
'Nothing,'� he paused, then admitted, 'I was just thinking how unusual your coloring is. Really light eyes and dark hair aren't that common.'�
'Mixed ethnic group.'� She said, smoothing Nate's hair as a way of easing her nervousness. 'My mom was from a nice WASP family and my dad was Middle Eastern'�it made for some interesting insecurities as a child.'�
'Your parents marriage?'�
'Well, yes,'� she laughed, 'But I was actually referring to not being blonde-haired and blue-eyed.'�
'Oh.'� He hesitated and then said softly, 'Well, not to make fun of your childhood demons, but I'd choose unique and beautiful over Barbie-doll pretty any day.'�
She immediately felt the heat climbing over her neck and cheeks and she cursed herself for not reacting to the compliment more smoothly. She was out of touch with compliments or flirting.
'Well, uhm, thanks.'� She stammered in confusion. 'Let me know if you need anything else.'�
He silently watched her turn and walk briskly up the basement steps, assessing her coolly with his green eyes. Then he walked around the basement and took a moment to study their movie and music collection, the artwork on the walls, and he lingered the longest in front of the family portraits and snapshots that had been framed and hung on the wall. With a little smile, he went back to his project and began to work.
Upstairs, Kate fed Nate and straightened up the kitchen, feeling like a fool when she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror and paused to study her features. It was true that she looked slightly exotic. Dark-skinned and dark-haired with eyes the palest green, Paul had often called her his 'Arabic Princess'�. She was a little too sharp-featured to be beautiful, though. With her nose a little too sharp and a chin that ended in a point, her only truly sensual feature was her mouth, which was lush and red. She had never really had any problem with how she looked and had managed to turn plenty of heads in the past, but most days when she looked in the mirror she simply felt frumpy. Her sex-in-the-city wardrobe had changed into clothes that were big on comfort and short on style, purchased more for their wrinkle-free tag and ability to hide stains than their beauty. Still, she felt a bit of a glow inside at the unexpected compliment and she did a little dance step with Nate on her hip, making him giggle in joy.
At lunchtime, Eric came up the stairs and went out to his truck to grab his lunch. She looked outside and saw him sitting in his truck, opening up a brown paper bag.
Hesitating for a fraction of a second, she sat Nate down in his walker and stepped outside.
When he looked up she said casually, 'It's so hot out here. If you want you can eat inside.'� She paused, and then offered, 'I've got some freshly brewed iced tea, if you want some.'�
Stepping out of his truck and shutting the door behind him, she saw that his shirt was already damp with sweat. Her eyes were momentarily drawn to the muscles in his arms and chest and then she forced herself to look back up at his face.
'Eating in air-conditioning sounds like heaven right now.'� He followed her inside the house and accepted an ice-filled glass of tea gratefully, then sat down at the table and unwrapped his lunch. He paused before taking a bite of his sandwich and said, 'This is really nice of you. The heat right now is miserable.'�
'God, I know.'� She looked outside at the scorched grass and the dusty, limp leaves on the trees and wondered how she would survive the rest of the summer. She thought of the perky blonde mothers in the neighborhood who congregated at the pools in their bikinis and suppressed the mental irritation that the thought caused. 'It takes all of the energy from the air and just makes you want to lay down and sleep.'�
He nodded, watching her, and asked, 'Are you from this area originally?'�
'No.'� She said abruptly, with the faintest tinge of vehemence in her voice. 'I'm from New York.'�
'Ah,'� he said meaningfully, 'You're a long way from New York living here in the Bible belt.'�
God, didn't she know it. She loved Paul and she had agreed to move here with him easily, thinking that as long as they were together any location would be okay. She even thought that a quaint, small town would be a wonderful place to raise a child and a refreshing change of pace from the big city. But she had quickly discovered that she had been wrong. She hated this miserable little town with its pretentious attitudes and narrow-minded views. The people she met seemed to fill every negative cliché she'd ever heard about small towns, with none of the warmth and family feeling that she had imagined she would find. Instead, she had found few friends and many women who were all too willing to see her as an oddity or a threat.
Realizing that she had become lost in her own thoughts, she told him with a small smile, 'My husband's family is from here.'�
'It's always nice to have family close,'� he replied, then smiled understandingly as she visibly bit back the words that sprang to her lips, 'Or at least that's what they say.'�
'Right.'� Paul's family was not family to her and never would be, but there was no point in discussing that now. Paul had always more than made up for what his family lacked in charm. 'What about you? Are you from here?'�
'Nope.'� He took a long drink of tea, and then wiped his mouth. 'I'm a transplant too.'�
'From where?'�
'Oh,'� he broke eye contact and looked away evasively, 'No place in particular. A little time here, a little time there; I've moved around a lot.'�
She didn't push him, not wanting to be rude, but she wondered at the note of cynicism in his voice.
Changing the subject as he opened up a snack cake, he nodded toward Nate. 'How old is your son?'�
'He's seven months.'�
'Your first?'�
'Yes.'� She smiled and couldn't resist adding, 'Just another thing to set me apart from all the other women in this town.'�
He snorted, 'Yeah, they like to start them pretty young around here. How long have you been married?'�
'Almost six years.'�
'Wow. With today's divorce rates, you're climbing up in the ranks of marriage seniority.'�
'Yeah?'� She grinned. 'Well, I've got a good man, so it's not such a hardship.'� Laughing at herself, she added, 'And if that doesn't sound like a southern cliché, I don't know what would.'�
He simply smiled and then looking at her curiously, he asked matter-of-factly, 'How old are you?'�
'Thirty-one.'� She replied calmly. 'Paul and I both wanted to wait to have children; we wanted to simply enjoy each other for awhile.'� And they had enjoyed one another. It sometimes caused her a physical pain to remember back to those lazy days together, just lying in each other's arms and talking about everything and nothing.
'You look younger.'� He stated, 'Most of the women around here would have had three kids by now.'�
'Do you have to rub it in?'� She asked jokingly. 'When I was pregnant one of the other women at my shower said, 'Oh, I'm so glad that I had my kids young enough that I could still feel like playing with them'. She looked all of eighteen and I think she had already pegged me as needing a walker rather than a stroller.'�
He laughed with genuine amusement. 'I know the type. But trust me, it's no criticism to you that you waited to start a family.'� He ran a hand through his hair casually, then threaded both hands behind his head and looked at her. 'When you talk to these women, when you look in their eyes'�you can see it. They haven't really lived and they are never going to be much more than just a wife or a mother. When I look in your eyes, do you know what I see?'�
She shook her head slowly, feeling that the conversation was creeping into dangerous water, but unable to resist finding out the answer.
'I see a woman who has actually lived, who has a mind and personality and soul. I see someone who took the time to have a life before she brought someone else to life and that will make all the difference in the world to that little boy.'�
As stroked as her ego was by the compliment, she wasn't naïve and couldn't stop herself from looking him in the eye and retorting with a withering tone, 'Really? You saw all that during the twenty minutes we've been talking? Wow, you must really be perceptive.'�
He stared for a moment, grinning in a self-deprecating way that she thought he had probably perfected. 'Well, I am pretty perceptive most of the time. But it never hurts to practice my skills on someone who I know is safe.'�
'Safe?'�
'Well yeah,'� he drawled, exaggerating the slight southern accent she had detected earlier, 'With you being happily married, I know you wouldn't actually be a conquest, so it's fun to play around with the conversation.'� He looked up at her from beneath heavily fringed lashes and hesitated a heartbeat long enough to make the question seem taunting before asking softly, 'Right?'�
Anger lanced through her, along with a curious thrill that she stifled with a chilling glare and cold tone, 'That's right. I've got to lay my son down for a nap, feel free to get more iced tea if you want it.'�
Turning, she picked up Nate, who was playing on the floor, and carried him from the room. He sat at the table a moment longer with a look that was both hesitating and speculative. He went downstairs and got back to work, knowing that he had crossed a boundary.
Kate laid Nate down for his nap, nursing him until he was sound asleep, then she crept from the room and began to try to finish up the household chores before Paul got home. She was in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher, when she heard a noise behind her. Whirling around in fright, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just Eric.
Holding up his hands as though in self-defense he said, 'Whoa! I'm just coming back up for more tea, if that's okay.'�
She turned back to the sink stiffly, 'It's fine.'�
He came around and stood in front of her at the counter. 'Kate,'� he began unsurely, 'I owe you an apology. I came off as a complete jerk at lunch and I am truly sorry. You were extending hospitality to me and I allowed my stupid male instincts to lead me someplace that I should never have gone.'�
Quirking an eyebrow at him, she remained silent.
'What do you want me to say?'� he said with a penitent look, 'You are a very attractive woman and I liked you. It is my not-so-noble instinct to hit on attractive women that I like. It was completely inappropriate because you are married and your husband is my boss. I am deeply, truly sorry and I promise I will behave.'�
She looked at him a moment more and then nodded, briefly. 'Let's get one thing straight though,'� she said slowly, looking him straight in the eye, 'Paul and I are in a partnership. My husband is not your 'boss'; you work for both of us, so that makes me your employer as much as it does him.'�
His lips tightened, whether in amusement or anger she wasn't sure, but he nodded. 'I understand.'�
'And just to make everything very clear: This is a business transaction. While I am flattered that you find me attractive, I would rather keep all conversations free of sexual innuendo or flirting. And yes, if having a 'happy' marriage makes me safe, then I'm about as safe as you can get.'�
Shrugging his shoulders he said nonchalantly, 'No problem'� and then inclined his head toward the door. 'I'm done here for the day. I'll be back tomorrow at 8:00 to get started again. Thanks for the iced tea.'�
Draining his glass, he sat it on the counter and turned toward the doorway. Turning back, a cocky grin lit up his face and made dimples appear at the corners of his mouth. 'Just to let you know, you are the sexiest boss I've ever had.'� His smile widened at her speechlessness and he chuckled on his way out.
Leaning against the counter, she felt herself trembling and tried to examine why. His arrogance angered her and she was tempted to tell Paul to let him go and hire someone else. But beneath the anger there was an undercurrent of excitement that she didn't want to probe too deeply. Because she was typically an honest person, she couldn't quiet her thoughts altogether. It had been a long time since anyone had exchanged sexy banter with her, a long time since she had engaged in the age-old dance of attraction that left the heart beating a little faster. Her sex life with Paul was wonderful, or at least had been before Nate, but still'�it had been a long time since she felt this stirred up and flustered. And she found that thought both exciting and disturbing.
That night, after dinner, she laid Nate down for sleep early and went into the bathroom. Digging through the back of her closet, she found a black negligee that she hadn't worn in years. Slipping it on, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought to herself, skimming her hands over her curves. Ironic since she remembered having done the same self-assessment earlier in the day with a much more negative viewpoint. But she knew that she felt sexier and more alive after the conversation with Eric. And what's wrong with that, she asked herself defiantly.
Going into the bedroom, she crossed over to the television and turned it off, then turned to her stunned husband and posed.
'What are you doing?'� he asked her in amazement, then shook his head, 'No, don't answer that. Just keep doing it and come over here.'�
Moving to the bed, she kissed him deeply. As they made love, she realized that it wasn't her husband's face that she saw when she closed her eyes. But it's Paul that I'm with, she told herself resolutely, pushing away the guilt. It's Paul that I love and that is all that matters.
Later, as they lay together before sleep, Paul whispered, 'I love you,'� quietly in her ear. She smiled and snuggled deeper into the embrace. When Nate woke her a couple of hours later, she nursed him and rocked him gently, then crept back into bed to join her sleeping husband.
The next morning she got up when the alarm went off, showered, and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. She dried her hair and brushed it, leaving it to hang loose and skim her shoulders. She even put on some light makeup, laughing at herself as she did so. She checked on Nate and found him still sleeping and hurried downstairs to start some coffee.
Promptly at 8:00, the white truck pulled into the drive. She watched as Eric stepped down and started to gather his tools. She couldn't help but admire the way his shoulders and chest filled out his tight, black t-shirt. God, he was beautiful, she thought, then quickly qualified the thought by reminding herself that she was an artist and was able to appreciate beauty objectively.
As he approached the door, she opened it for him and stood back to let him in. Turning his toolbox to fit through the door, his body brushed hers ever so briefly.
'Sorry,'� he said, moving away from her quickly. 'How are you this morning?'�
'Good.'�
He set his toolbox on the ground and held out a hand. 'So, have you forgiven me? Can we start over?'�
She laughed and shook his hand. 'Sure. How about we start over with some coffee.'�
'Ahh,'� he breathed, 'You're talking my language now.'�
He followed her into the kitchen and she poured him a cup. 'I've got some errands to run this morning, so I'll be in and out. But I'll be back by lunchtime, if you want to eat up here again.'�
'With you?'� he said solemnly, 'Are you sure it wouldn't be inappropriate, boss?'�
She narrowed her eyes and said threateningly, 'You don't need to make me sound so stiff and prudish.'� At the sound of Nate's cries she began to walk from the room, but turned to say to him menacingly, 'Besides, I've got Nate as a chaperone. Try anything and I'll make you change poopy diapers.'�
His laughter floated up the stairs as she went to the nursery and she told herself that she had overreacted the day before to his mild flirting. She nursed Nate and changed him, then went down and strapped him into the car seat to run her errands. She tried to pretend to herself that she was simply keeping an eye on the time so she could keep to her schedule, but she finally gave up all pretenses as she hurried through the aisles of the grocery store and loaded the bags into the car. On the way back she told herself she was being foolish as she reapplied her lipstick and smoothed her hair. But as she pulled into the driveway and saw Eric standing at the truck, the sun glinting off of his hair, she felt something dangerous stir inside herself briefly.
He walked toward the Volvo as she got out and opened the trunk. 'Hey, I was just getting ready to take a break.'�
He watched her for a moment then said chidingly, 'Hey, let me get those,'� as he took the bags from her hand and grabbed the rest of them effortlessly. 'You just get the kid.'�
'Thanks.'� She said gratefully. She looked in the backseat at her crying son, who couldn't stand to be in his carseat a moment longer than necessary. 'Come on Nate, let's go inside.'�
Eric was waiting inside, his brown bag lunch in hand. 'Still okay if I eat here at the table?'�
'Of course.'� She said with a wave of her hand. 'Actually, I'll fix myself a sandwich and join you. Nate and I could use a little breather.'�
She took a moment to put some lunchmeat on some bread and fix herself a glass of iced tea and then sat down beside him, pulling Nate out of his walker and onto her lap as she did so.
'Did you get all your errands done?'� he asked politely.
'Yeah,'� she said, then laughed self-deprecatingly, 'All very interesting things. Post office, bank, dry-cleaning, and grocery store. My life is a real bundle of excitement these days.'�
'Those are the chores that keep the rest of the world running smoothly.'� He commented, watching her pick at her sandwich. 'What did you do before?'�
'Before?'�
He gestured toward the house and then toward Nate, who was gumming a baby carrot. 'Before being a stay-at-home Mom.'�
'Oh. Graphic art design.'� She hesitated before confiding, 'What I really loved to do was paint. Oil paintings mainly and some charcoal sketches.'�
'Really?'� Laughing, he told her, 'I'm impressed. I have no artistic ability whatsoever. What subjects did you choose?'�
'This and that. Landscapes, portraits.'� She shrugged one shoulder and then almost defiantly added, 'I did a lot of stuff from my imagination. Ethereal, surreal scenes, fantasy. That sort of thing.'�
'Are you any good?'�
The question caught her off-guard and she paused before answering. 'Some of it was quite good.'� She gestured upstairs and said, 'Paul always really like it, so we've got one framed in the bedroom.'�
'I'd love to see it sometime.'� His eyes considered her a moment before asking, 'You used past tense.'�
'What?'� She shook her head in confusion. 'I used what past tense?'�
'You said that what you loved to do was paint.'� His voice was even, even though his eyes were intense. 'Did you give it up?'�
'Well'�'� Her laugh was a note too bright to be sincere, so she planted a quick kiss on Nate's downy head. 'This little guy doesn't leave a lot of time for painting.'�
'What about your husband?'� The question was thrown out nonchalantly while he picked up his empty containers and placed them neatly back in his brown bag. 'Can't he take care of his son while you paint?'�
She bristled slightly and rising from the table to clear her dishes said quickly, 'Paul does help, but he also works fifty hours a week. I can't expect him to come home and baby-sit every night while I play with paints.'�
'Perhaps not,'� He chose his words carefully for their neutrality, 'But I know if it were my wife, I would have a vested interest in making sure that she didn't have to lose something that was important to her when we had children.'�
'Do you have children?'� she shot back.
'No.'�
'Then I really think it would be difficult for you to say what you would or wouldn't do.'�
'Not really,'� He replied levelly. 'Is what you do less important than what your husband does? Do you think you are less deserving of some time for yourself?'�
It felt as though he had slapped her in the face and she actually took a step backward, her face awash with pent-up feelings of guilt and resentment. Did she think she was less deserving? Or did she simply feel that Paul's behavior indicated that she was less deserving? She often felt resentful of Paul since Nate's birth and yet'�she loved him and admired him. She often felt that Paul was actually the better person between the two of them; yet there were moments when a voice whispered to her that she was the only one suffering adversely from the weight of parenthood. She had tried to not think these thoughts, but having a stranger bring up the issue disturbed her deeply.
After a moment she said, 'You have a good point. I guess I've had a lot of conflicting feelings since Nathaniel was born, feelings that I've not really resolved yet.'� Before he could say anything, she added quickly, 'Paul and I also have some issues that need to be resolved, but he is a good husband and a good father and I don't really feel comfortable discussing this with you.'�
'Are you discussing it with anyone?'� He asked gently.
She turned from him for a moment and stood with her hands on the counter, humiliated to find herself close to tears in front of this stranger. What was wrong with her? Was she really so fragile that this man could bring her to tears with just a few questions?
Coming up behind her, he said softly, 'I know that I'm overstepping the boundaries of our working relationship, but if you need to talk to me Kate, please don't hesitate.'�
She turned back to him and her face was composed except for the slight sheen in her eyes. 'You're a complete stranger.'� Years of repression forced her to add, 'Besides, there's really nothing to talk about.'�
The lie lay between them for a moment like a chasm, but reaching out he gently touched her hair and smiled to lighten the moment. 'Talk to me, Kate.'� He leaned down to look in her eyes. 'I'm already here and I'm cheaper than therapy. I promise that you can call the shots on the boundaries of the relationship and I won't overstep them. But talk to me.'�
She knew as he turned and walked from the room and back into the basement that she should call him back, put him in his place, even fire him for the casual intimacy that he was trying to establish between them. But her heart was aching from the months of repressed needs and broken ideals and his interest in her words and feelings were like a balm. She felt a wrenching feeling of regret that she would even think of discussing her most intimate feelings with someone other than her husband. She knew that she could never discuss these feelings with Paul; her shame and disgust with herself at her own unhappiness always swallowed up the words before she could say them. Turning back to Nate and burying her head in his chubby neck, she let out a sob. Then she bit on her lip until the choking waves of grief that wanted to billow up and out of her in a torrent of sound calmed.
She didn't speak to him again the rest of the day until he was leaving and then it was only the briefest of goodbyes. But when their eyes met as he walked out the door, she felt an awareness of him that was like a caress on her mind. It frightened her, but at the same time she was drawn to that psychic awareness with an intensity that could not be denied. She found that she wanted to talk to him, to pour out her heart and expunge the weight that had settled on her.
That evening, although she and Paul spoke casually over dinner and spent the evening playing with Nate and watching television, she felt that her guilt must show. To try to compensate, she sat close to Paul and rubbed his back for him and held his hand while they watched television. She listened carefully to his stories of his day and took all the responsibilities of Nate off of his shoulders. It was a good imitation of the contentment that they had always felt together. But she was awkward meeting his eyes and she felt certain that he must sense something. There had been a time when Paul could sense the slightest change in her mood, but that was before their connection had dimmed. Sometimes, childishly, she would shout things at him with her mind to see if he could still feel her the way he used to. But Paul's mind was closed to her these days; she knew with certainty that he couldn't hear her. The mental connection seemed to have quieted.
That night, Paul made love to her again and, although her body moved with his and her mouth made the required sounds of passion, her mind was far, far away.
As her husband drifted off to sleep beside her, she laid staring at the wall, her heart pounding with fear and trepidation. She felt as though her entire world had shifted and she was still stumbling for balance. But one thing that she knew above all others. She loved Paul and she loved their son; together they were the most important things in her life. The attraction that she felt to Eric, emotionally and physically, could be quelled. They would simply have to be.
In the morning she was in the kitchen with Nate, who had awoken early, when she heard Eric's knock on the door. She opened it and held the door for him as he carried in his tools, not meeting his eyes.
'Good morning.'� He said cheerfully, pretending to be oblivious to her discomfort. 'How are you, little guy?'�
Nate smiled and cooed while his mother turned the corners of her mouth up in a polite, distant smile. Eric watched her discreetly, sensing that she needed some distance this morning.
'How are you, Kate?'� he asked casually.
'Great.'� Her voice was cool, detached; underneath the façade her heart beat madly. 'Nate and I will be out most of the day. Feel free to come up here and get ice or whatever you need for lunch. I'll be back before you leave for the day.'�
He just studied her for a moment, and then hooked his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. 'Okay.'� Picking up his toolbox he turned toward the basement door and then stopped abruptly and looked back at her. 'Are you okay?'�
Her polite smile trembled a little around the edges before she nodded briefly. 'I'm fine, thanks.'� She walked from the room quickly and left him standing there staring after her.
She and Nate spent the day out shopping and on impulse she called Paul from her cell phone and met him for lunch. She had already arrived and was seated with Nate in a high chair when Paul walked in, his face alit with happy surprise.
'Wow.'� He said, gazing at her with contentment. 'This is a treat.'�
'I thought it would be nice.'� She said, smiling into his eyes. 'Remember before Nate was born? We used to meet two or three times a week.'�
'I remember.'� He perused the menu and gave his order to the waitress quickly. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the lips lightly. 'I know things have been different between us lately. I think we've both had some adjustment because of Nate. But we'll get back there, Kate.'�
She felt a quick flash of resentment at the thought of how little his life had changed in comparison to her own, then a rush of love that he had noticed that there were problems. 'I know we will.'� Was all she said as she laid her hand on top of his on the table.
'I love you.'� He told her softly, then looking at their son, 'I love both of you guys so much. My life would be nothing without the two of you.'�
The hour passed quickly and they embraced in the parking lot before parting. She spent some more time in the local shops before heading home, trying to time her arrival with Eric's departure.
As she pulled into the driveway, she saw that Eric's truck was still there. Apprehensively, she pulled Nate from the car seat and carried in her purchases. She was just settling Nate into his walker as she heard Eric come into the room.
She turned with a polite smile. 'Finished for the day?'�
He nodded. 'Yeah.'� Gesturing toward the bags on the counter, he asked, 'Did you have a good day?'�
'Great.'� She said enthusiastically. 'We were able to meet Paul for lunch, so that was nice. You always like to see your Daddy, don't you Nate?'�
She walked over and patted her son's head, using him as a shield from Eric's probing eyes.
'Are you angry with me, Kate?'� he asked her quietly. 'Is it because of yesterday?'�
'No, I'm not angry.'� She wasn't lying. She wasn't angry, she was terrified that she had felt such an awareness of him as a person. 'I just don't think we should continue to have these conversations that stray into familiarity.'� She laughed in an amused way, 'It's ridiculous, really. I mean, you don't know me and I don't know you.'�
'Look at me.'� He commanded with an edge of something rough in his voice. When she still looked only at her son, he repeated somewhat angrily. 'Kate, look at me.'�
At his tone, her head snapped up and she met his eyes furiously. 'Don't you talk to me that way. How dare you?'�
He searched her angry eyes for such a long moment that her stomach began to jump nervously, but she couldn't look away. She continued to meet his gaze until the moment stretched into an awkward silence, and yet she couldn't look away. Something in his eyes held her, captive, until finally he broke the connection.
'You're right.'� He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly and when he looked back at her he grimaced and looked tired. 'I have no right to talk to you like that. I guess I should be grateful that you're not firing me, huh?'�
She remained silent, her heart thudding painfully.
'But I feel something strange whenever I'm around you.'� He searched for words for a moment, losing the nonchalant arrogance that he wore like a suit of armor. 'I feel like I know you. Or maybe I just want to know you. But you're right. I have no right.'�
He swallowed hard, and then waited for her to say something. When she didn't, he said, 'Have a good evening, Kate'�, and walked from the house, his steps quick. She wanted to jump when the door thumped shut behind him and she had to tell herself to breathe. The moment had a significance that was too deep for a simple encounter between near strangers, and yet she couldn't deny the impact she felt.
That night, Nate seemed particularly moody and cried and cried before finally falling asleep in her arms. She laid him down in the crib and crept to her bed, only to have him awaken again as soon as she had changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth. Paul was already asleep, so she went to his room and pulled him out of the crib.
'What's the matter, little guy?'� She asked him, concerned by his flushed cheeks and inability to get comfortable.
She rocked him back to sleep gently, her mind drifting to her conversation with Eric. She had known by the way he left that their relationship would be far different in the morning; that it would be what it should have been from the start: impersonal. She knew it was for the best, yet she still felt a ridiculous sense of loss.
Looking down, she saw that Nate was asleep again, his breathing quick and shallow. Frowning, she laid him in his crib again and watched him for a moment before going to her own bed.
Thirty minutes later Nate woke her again with piercing cries. Looking at Paul's inert form huddled under the covers, she mentally cursed him for not even waking briefly at the sound of their son's distress, then pulled herself groggily from the bed.
When she looked down at her son's screaming face, the first thing she thought was 'something is wrong'. Pulling him into her arms again, she immediately felt the heat of his flesh. She crossed the room and laid him on the changing table, then grabbed the thermometer: 102.5. When she picked him up again, he quieted briefly and his eyes were glassy as he gazed at her pitifully.
'Oh, Nate.'� She breathed, worry gnawing at her heart. 'Let's give you some medicine.'�
She gave him a dosage of Tylenol, then sat with him in the rocker, offering him her breast again for comfort. He latched on, but whimpered while he nursed, obviously uncomfortable. She sat holding him until her own exhaustion had her eyes closing and her body falling to one side of the chair.
By morning she was bleary eyed and in the nursery when Paul walked in, fresh out of the shower.
'Hey, what are you doing in here?'� he asked innocently.
All the months of pent-up rage and resentment boiled up and she swayed on her feet for a moment, dizzy with lack of sleep and anger.
'What I'm doing in here is the same thing I've been doing all night.'� Her voice was low and hummed with emotion. 'Taking care of our sick son.'�
Instant concern crossed his face and he stepped to the crib quickly and laid his hand on Nate's forehead. 'What's wrong with him?'� he demanded, and his total concern for Nate both warmed and angered her toward him.
'He's had a fever and been up and down all night. His head is stuffy,'� she waved a hand in exasperation, 'I don't know what's wrong. He's sick and miserable, isn't that enough.'�
'I'm sorry, I didn't know.'� He told her quietly, his eyes steady on hers.
'Of course you didn't know.'� She shot back, her voice a raised whisper. 'You never know. You slept through it, as usual, leaving me to take care of him alone.'�
His eyes flashed with guilt, but then defensiveness took over. 'Why didn't you wake me?'�
'What's the point?'� she told him tiredly, too angry to try to be reasonable. 'If you really loved us you would have woken up. You would have known that Nate needed you and I needed you.'�
'Kate, that is ridiculous.'� Now his voice was raised as well and a thread of anger ran through it. 'I'm not psychic and I was asleep.'�
'Well, I'm not psychic and I was asleep too, wasn't I?'� she threw at him, her face lit with triumph. 'Why is it that night after night I can hear Nate's cries, but you sleep through them?'�
'He only wants you anyway!'�
'Well, maybe he'd want you if you'd ever go to him.'�
'Maybe if I grew breasts he'd want me.'� He took a deep breath, seeing that she was about to explode over his last statement. 'Look, I have to get ready and go to work. We'll have to continue this conversation later.'�
He went and stood in the doorway, with one hand leaned against it awkwardly. 'Nate is sleeping now. Why don't you lay down and rest for awhile?'�
As he walked from the room, she felt like crying, but she was still too angry. It was 7:30; she knew that to lay down now would be ridiculous and pointless. But like many of Paul's suggestions regarding Nate, he didn't seem to see the reality of parenting.
When Paul walked into the room to tell her goodbye, she wouldn't even look at him. She heard him walking away, then listened for the sound of the garage door closing. Checking on Nate, who was sleeping soundly now after his all-night battle with sickness, she went and washed her face in the bathroom sink and brushed her teeth. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her eyes were puffy and had dark circles of fatigue underneath. She considered trying to repair some of the damage with makeup, but simply felt too listless and depressed to care. She pulled on a pair of soft, loose shorts and a tank-top and went downstairs to pour herself some coffee.
When the knock on the door came a few minutes later, she felt her stomach jump nervously, but steeled herself and opened the door to Eric. He looked reserved this morning, but with one glance at her face he closed the door behind him and touched her arm gently.
'Kate, what's wrong?'� He asked her quietly. 'You look like hell.'�
'Thanks.'� Her voice made an attempt at lightness, but the effect was ruined by the slight tremble. 'I do try.'�
'Kate, I'm serious. You're trembling and you look like you're going to burst into tears any second.'� He paused, 'Did something happen?'�
She turned and stood at the counter, busying herself with a pile of mail that lay there, trying desperately to calm down. 'I just had a bad night. Nate is sick and didn't sleep all night.'� She looked at him over her shoulder briefly with a tired smile. 'I'm just exhausted.'�
Her body tensed when his hands came up to her shoulders and he began to knead them gently. 'Didn't you get any sleep?'�
'No.'�
'Where was Paul during all of this?'�
At the question, the struggle between loyalty to her husband and disappointment and anger began a tug of war within her. The conflict was too much and she bent her head and let out a soft sob, then as his hands moved to her hair and began to stroke it gently, she started to cry.
He turned her around and pulled her into his arms, his body warm and solid, holding her as she wept from exhaustion and sadness and the disillusionment of reality.
'Shhh.'� He murmured to her over and over. 'It's alright.'�
'No, it's not alright,'� she said brokenly, her words spilling out in a gush along with the tears, 'I don't think it will ever be alright again.'�
'I know.'�
She couldn't hear him she was so lost in her own grief and anger. 'I thought it would be different; I thought he would make things perfect.'� She began to cry harder, her words almost indistinguishable between the sobs. 'But it is just so hard. I'm always tired, I'm always angry. I'm not the same person anymore and I don't even like who I've become.'�
He remained silent, fighting the impulse to ask more questions and simply let her talk, stroking her back and hair soothingly.
'I'm losing everything about myself that I liked. Paul and I'�'� She stopped herself and shook her head slightly, unwilling to breach the confidence of her marriage. 'I love Nate, but I don't love what he has done to my life. I sometimes think I must be some sort of lunatic, that I could love him and resent him so much at the same time. And then I think, what sort of mother am I? Shouldn't I be overjoyed to have a wonderful, happy child? Am I really so selfish that I can't be happy?'�
She was silent for a moment, trying to calm herself, then suddenly realized the position that they were in. Taking a deep breath, she moved out of his embrace and stood looking at the floor. Putting her hands over her face for a minute, she wiped the tears away, then looked at him warily.
'I'm sorry.'� She said haltingly. 'I don't know what is wrong with me. That was completely inappropriate.'�
'What?'� The question was asked evenly, his eyes steady on hers. 'Having feelings? Breaking down under stress?'�
'Sobbing out my personal problems to you.'� She refused to touch on the intimacy of the embrace; it seemed best to not mention it. 'Using you to vent; these aren't your problems.'�
'But I'm here and I already offered to be a sounding board.'� He pointed out. 'It sounds like you need someone to just listen.'�
She looked at him, struggling with her thoughts a moment and then admitted, 'I do feel better.'�
He turned and got a cup of coffee out of her kitchen cabinet and poured himself some and topped off her cup, handing it to her across the counter. 'What you need is some time alone and some sleep.'�
'I need a lot of things.'� Grimacing at the fact that he was making himself at home, she sipped her coffee, willing the caffeine to begin working. 'That doesn't mean I'm going to get them.'�
As if making a snap decision, he took the coffee away from her and poured it down the sink, laughing at her open-mouthed shock. 'Go get a hot bath and then go to bed.'�
'What?'� She practically gasped, her face a study in incredulous disbelief at his arrogance.
'I'm serious.'�
'I don't care how serious you are.'� Her voice was a mixture of amazed and appalled, her brows drawing together in a frown. 'How do you propose I do that with a sick child in the other room?'�
'I'll watch him.'� He told her confidently. 'I've been around kids plenty and I know what to do. You would be right in the next room if I had an emergency.'�
She stared at him for a moment and searching his eyes, she asked in a wondering tone, 'You really are serious, aren't you?'�
'Yup.'�
She studied him, her mind racing at the offer. She knew so little about him that it seemed almost negligent to consider leaving her son in his care and entering the vulnerable state of sleep with him in the house. And yet the fact that he was willing to take care of her son while she cared for her own needs left her pondering the kind of man he was. She knew that she was on the verge of collapse; she could feel the breaking point coming closer and closer. Wouldn't it be better for Nate and for herself is she acquiesced and rejuvenated herself, at least for a couple of hours?
Finally, she nodded. 'Okay. If you're willing, I'll have to take you up on it.'�
'I'm willing.'� He grinned cockily, 'In fact, if you need me to scrub your back, just yell out.'�
When her brow puckered, he let out a chuckle, 'Kate, I'm joking.'�
After a moment she smiled back at him. 'You know, if a woman can get past all the chauvinistic, sexual innuendo, you're really a nice man.'�
'Nice?'� He sneered in mock disgust. 'I really am getting rusty with my seduction routine.'�
She smiled and didn't comment. 'Wake me in two hours,'� she said resolutely, 'Don't let me sleep longer than that.'�
His eyes were hot on her back as she walked from the room and after a moment he walked upstairs, grabbing a magazine off the counter on the way and looking around curiously. Creeping into Nate's room, he checked on him quietly, then sat down and began to thumb through the articles. Hearing the distant running of water in the master bath, he was glad that Kate had decided to treat herself to a bath.
He wasn't really into the latest celebrity gossip and he wondered briefly if Kate was. Growing bored, he began to look around the nursery at the various pictures of Nate that had been hung. He decided to explore for a few minutes while Kate was bathing, so he walked silently into what he assumed was an office and sat down at the computer workstation. Mulling over his impulse for a moment, he finally gave in to temptation and turned on the monitor. Seeing a popular financial program on the desktop, he opened it quickly and began to scan the entries. He noticed a frequent entry for a local coffee shop and another for a chocolate shop that he had seen in a shopping center. He looked at their grocery budget and their mortgage, and his eyes narrowed at entries that were obviously for Paul.
He closed the program and turned off the monitor, then leaned his head out the door to see if he heard any noises from the bedroom. He stood up and began to look around the room, then walked quickly back to the nursery when he heard the water begin to drain from the tub.
When Kate walked out wearing a white terrycloth robe, he was seated in the rocking chair, thumbing through the magazine again.
'Are you still sure this is okay?'� She asked nervously.
'It's insulting that you keep asking.'� He told her with a warm smile. Her hair was pinned up and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the water. 'Go and get some sleep. If it makes you feel better I'll pad my bill for the shelves.'�
She laughed quietly, then walked to the crib and leaned over to touch Nate's forehead. 'Poor baby, he's konked out.'� With one last look at her sleeping son, she said, 'Okay. I'm going to just get an hour or so and then I'll be out. Come and get me if you have any problems.'�
'Kate.'� He made his voice stern. 'Go.'�
He waited about ten minutes to make sure she was in the bed before he went back to the office. Then he began to look through the treasure trove of picture albums that he had found. He saw Kate as a young girl with her dark hair in long ponytails down her back. There was Kate with a group of friends as a teenager, all smiling and making goofy faces at the camera. There were pictures of her obviously taken in college. Picking up what their wedding album, he flipped through slowly, feeling an irrational envy of their dressed-up happiness. Putting that down after a moment, he picked up another album and saw Kate, radiant in pregnancy, with Paul resting his hand lovingly on her protruding belly. Reaching out a finger, he softly traced her face, and gave himself over to a childish fantasy of himself being there instead of Paul. He tried to imagine that Nate was his child and that he would be the one to come home to Kate. He knew he could do a better job of it than Paul; anyone with eyes could see that Kate was floundering emotionally.
He walked back out into the upstairs hallway and noted that Kate had closed her door tightly. He could almost envision the mental struggle she must have gone through: Do I leave the door cracked so that I can hear Nate if he needs me or do I maintain my privacy and close it? He wished that she had decided to leave it cracked.
He went into the nursery and picked up the baby monitor after a cursory glance at the sleeping child. Walking downstairs quietly, he looked around the living space more thoroughly than he had before, taking time to note the décor and the artwork. The furniture was understated and chosen for comfort more than elegance, yet the dark leather sofas and light walnut accent tables looked warm and inviting, with brass lamps on the tables that would cast a warm glow in the evenings. The mantle held scented pillar candles and snapshots interspersed together casually. Residing over it all was a magnificent oil painting of a field of wildflowers with a stormy sky glowering above. The colors and subject were beautiful and passionate; he could almost breathe in the scent of the flowers and feel . On a hunch, he noted the signature in the corner and saw that it was Kate's. She definitely had talent. And it was all going to waste changing dirty diapers and taking care of menial tasks, he thought to himself.
Going into the dining room, he felt less of Kate's presence here. The room seemed cold and austere with its formal dining table and heavy drapes and the walls were painted a cool cream. It looked rarely used and he couldn't help but feel, instinctively, that Kate would prefer to entertain in the kitchen. In his mind he pictured her at the counter, preparing the food and talking at the same time, her lush mouth laughing often and her eyes glowing.
The kitchen was Kate's crowning masterpiece, in his opinion. The moment that he had walked through its door he had felt enclosed in warmth and friendliness. The two large windows let sunlight pour in, bathing the soft yellow walls in a golden glow. Delicate blue and white curtains hung from the top of the glass, delicate as gossamer. The blue and gold pottery bowl adorning the burnished oak table held ripe fruit and the white tiled countertop was empty except for the decorative glass bottles in bright colors that held oils and vinegars. The kitchen was Kate's: Clean, but with personal papers scattered here and there. The overall effect that he saw was of beauty and order that was thrown slightly askew because of the baby. But, he reminded himself, that's what kids do and Kate was a great mother. She certainly seemed to handle things better than his own mother had, that was for certain. If she just had someone who understood her a little better and could help her more, Kate would be so much happier.
He looked in the refrigerator. Fresh fruit in Tupperware lined the shelves and a few leftover containers were stacked neatly. A bottle of wine lay in the shelf that had been opened; it was a dry white. Fresh herbs, vegetables, and cheeses in organized compartments. Someone in the household was obviously a gourmet and he doubted it was the husband.
Closing the door, he suddenly heard a sound from the baby monitor. He listened for a moment, then headed upstairs when he heard the baby cry. He looked at him for a moment, then realized that if he didn't pick him up that the kid would probably launch into full blown hysterics and wake Kate. He lifted him gingerly from the crib and swayed with him for a moment, then walked to the changing table and began to change him. It was really like riding a bike, the thought morosely, you never really forgot how. He expertly smeared diaper cream on the baby's butt and then put on a dry diaper. Nate had stopped sniffling by now and watched the strange man with glazed eyes.
'You really don't feel good, do you little man?'� Eric asked him, seeing how glassy the baby's eyes were. 'How about some more medicine?'�
He located the pink liquid and dispensed some into the baby's mouth gently and then sat down in the rocker with him. When Nate began to fuss, he sat him in the floor and put some toys in front of him, wiggling a rattle and making faces at the little boy until he began to smile.
That was how Kate found them when she came out of the bedroom dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt, with her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. She saw her son smiling at Eric, who was pretending to be a dog and barking at him quietly.
She walked into the room and watched for a moment until Eric saw her standing in the doorway.
'Hey.'� He said accusingly. 'What are you doing up already?'�
She shrugged. 'I told you to wake me in two hours, but I also set my alarm just in case you didn't.'�
'Oh.'� He grinned sheepishly. 'I guess I got distracted. The little guy and I have been having a great time.'�
Kate went and knelt down beside her son, who began to smile and flap his hands excitedly at the sight of his mother. She felt his forehead and noted that the fever was totally gone.
'Did you give him more tylenol?'�
'Yeah, I figured it was time for another dose.'�
She nodded, satisfied, and sat back to look at Eric gratefully. 'Thank you for watching him for me.'� She said quietly, feeling somewhat awkward at the intimacy established between them by the day's events.
His green eyes were a fathomless pool that she couldn't read. 'I was glad to. Did it help?'�
'Very much.'� Her voice was tentative and her eyes couldn't meet his as she said softly, 'I want to apologize for this morning. I feel really silly breaking down on you like that.'�
'Everyone has their breaking point.'�
'Yes, well'�'� She paused, looking for words that wouldn't criticize her husband and yet would allow her to explain her feelings. 'Motherhood has been a difficult transition for me. I often feel as though I don't handle it very well.'�
He remained silent, his eyes calm and non-judgmental as he waited for her to go on.
'When I was a little girl,'� she began again, her eyes a little distant as though lost in memories, 'I loved baby dolls more than anything else in the world. I would cuddle them and love them and take such good care of them.'�
She looked at him then, her smile a little embarrassed. 'When I was a teenager I was completely crazy about kids and couldn't wait to have them. My secret dream was to be one of those cookie-baking, mini-van driving Moms who had three or four kids. As I got older the dream began to change. I went to college, I met Paul, I was wrapped up in my art.'�
'Did you stop wanting kids?'� He said, his voice nudging her out of the momentary silence that had fallen while she was lost in thought.
'No.'� She shook her head emphatically. 'But my focus was different. Paul and I had the perfect marriage, the perfect life together. I wanted us to have our time together and then, in my fantasy, we would have this baby that would complete our perfection. We'd create a child that would be a little piece of both of us and the baby would only draw us closer together. I had these fantasies of myself dressed in this beautiful white nightgown, sitting in the rocker in the moonlight nursing our child while Paul sat beside me talking to me or rubbing my feet.'�
She bent over and brushed a loving and guilty hand over Nate's head, feeling as though she were betraying him with her words. She looked up and met Eric's gaze, her eyes stripped of any barrier, her heart exposed.
'My pregnancy was almost ideal, everything planned down to the last detail, just like I like for it to be. I'm a little bit of a perfectionist,'� this was said with a tiny smile, 'and everything went according to my grand plan.
'After Nate's birth, which was long and exhausting, I remember he just cried and cried. But I was so ecstatic, so in love with this tiny human being that I didn't care. When we got home from the hospital, Paul was there with me for the rest of the week to help me and was showering me with love and attention. It was just so intense, you know?'�
He nodded, not knowing, but not wanting to interrupt the flow of words.
'Night after night, Nate was up every hour. I would nurse him, tired, but still joyful about it. But I was just getting totally drained. Finally Paul had to go back to work, but I was still so tired from the birth and from not sleeping and from trying to learn to take care of this tiny person. And the joy started ebbing away and I started to just feel tired. I guess the newness was wearing off. Paul couldn't feed him at night, even thought at first he would walk him when Nate would wake up. But Nate only wanted me and slowly, Paul stopped getting up with him.'�
She plucked at the carpet absentmindedly, 'This went on for weeks and weeks. I could barely function during the day. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I thought about suicide.'� Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. 'I found myself wishing that Nate had never been born, that he had ruined everything.'�
'You see, I had this dream in my head of this beautiful baby that lay peacefully at my breast and slept when he was supposed to and didn't cry at all hours of the night. And when Nate was born I realized that it was just a fantasy, it wasn't real. And I felt so angry and sad and resentful that I hadn't known and that I had to give up this dream that I had dreamed for years. Or maybe I just didn't really know, couldn't know, what it would feel like to be needed by this helpless little person 24/7. It was really hard.'�
He waited to see if Kate would continue, but when she didn't, he prompted, 'And now?'�
'Now?'� She thought about it for a moment. 'It's better in many ways. I'm more accustomed to Nate and him to me. He sleeps better.'� Her smile was tiny. 'But sometimes I feel like I am dying inside.'�
'What do you mean?'�
'Well, so many of the things I did before Nate,'� she ticked them off on her fingers, 'Painting, reading a good book, going to see a movie, spending the day with Paul just goofing off, sleeping'�they're all gone now. And it's been replaced with these mind-stagnating tasks that I do day in and day out.'�
She stopped herself and realized that the conversation had degenerated into whining. Giving him a self-deprecating smile, she admitted, 'I guess I thought it would be easier to give up so many of the things that I did before, but it hasn't been. I find myself being really resentful of being so totally consumed.'�
'It sounds like what you are feeling is natural.'� He told her. 'Probably most new mothers go through this.'�
'That's the thing.'� She said, her voice suddenly a little shaky, 'Most of the other mothers that I see act like nothing is wrong and having a child brings nothing but joy to their lives.'�
'Perhaps they are just pretending.'� He suggested.
'Perhaps.'� She mused doubtfully. 'But I often feel like there is simply something wrong with me. I feel so guilty and ashamed that I have these feelings.'�
'Why?'�
'Because.'� Her voice became intense and she leaned forward to emphasize her point. 'I love Nate with my whole heart. I have never in my life felt so aware of another human being; it is almost as though he is simply an extension of me. My feelings for him are,'� She searched for the appropriate word for a moment, 'well, they're primal, almost animalistic. Sometimes the intensity of what I feel for him almost takes my breath away. I don't understand how it is possible to feel such love and such resentment together. And by feeling resentful and wishing for the life I had before, I feel like it betrays what I feel for Nate and makes it invalid somehow.'�
He was silent for a moment, absorbing her words. 'Kate, I can't tell you that I'm an expert on what you are supposed to feel or not feel.'� He paused and when he began again, there was a note of bitterness to his voice that seemed out of context. 'At least you're here. At least you're trying to be the mother that your son needs. I think that is the most important thing to consider. Of course you're going to feel resentful at times; you're entire life as you've known it has been turned upside down. But you're here, sticking it out, because you know that is the right thing to do.'�
'And because I love Paul and Nate.'� Her eyes studied him with a note of curiosity.
'Of course.'� He replied smoothly. 'But sometimes loving someone isn't enough when things get rough, is it?'�
She shrugged and admitted, 'I guess not.'�
Nate began to cry a little and she looked over at Eric. 'I've got to nurse him.'�
'Okay.'� Standing and stretching his legs, he prepared to leave the room.
She stood also, balancing Nate on one hip. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his arm. 'Thank you.'�
'I didn't really do much.'� He told her with a wry smile. 'Watching your son for a couple of hours is hardly tough duty.'�
She shook her head, unwilling to let him shrug it off. 'No, you did a lot more than that. I really needed some time alone this morning; I'm not sure what I would have done without it. And I really appreciate you letting me cry on your shoulder.'�
'It's there anytime you need it.'�
She bowed her head, and then met his eyes a little shyly. 'I know that you mean that, but these are feelings that I've been trying to repress for months. To tell them to a stranger is difficult.'�
'I'm not really a stranger anymore, am I?'� He asked, the corners of his mouth turning up into a faint smile. 'Not after this morning.'�
With that he stroked her cheek softly with a fingertip and then left the room, leaving her standing there with a look of uncertainty on her face.
That evening Paul was polite to her, but the distance between them was apparent. They spoke little and he avoided her eyes while they ate their dinner together, both of them focusing on Nate and the most casual of conversation.
He disappeared for a little while and then she saw him coming up from the basement, a frown on his face.
'What's wrong?'� She asked, her face immediately mirroring his in concern.
'Has the carpenter that I hired been here all week?'�
She felt a stirring of discomfort, but casually asked. 'What do you mean?'�
'Well, it just doesn't seem like he's getting very much work done.'� Paul commented with displeasure. 'He said the job would take a week and it's been almost that now and the project is only half done. Have you talked to him at all?'�
She continued cleaning up the kitchen, but her pulse quickened in fear and she didn't' meet his eyes. 'Well, of course I've talked to him. I've been here all week, haven't I?'�
'And?'�
'And he had a family emergency today and had to leave early this morning.'� She lied quickly, the words coming to her out of panic at the thought of what her husband's reaction to the truth would be. 'He apologized and said that he would try to be here tomorrow.'�
'Oh. Well, I guess these things happen.'� Paul studied her a moment, accepting her words at face value, but he sensed her feelings of unease. 'Are you still mad at me?'�
'What do you think?'� She asked, her gratitude at his casual acceptance of the lie taking the sting out of the words.
'Look,'� He sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands tiredly. 'I don't know what to say. I'm sorry that you had a rough night. If you had woken me up, I would have been glad to help.'�
'I know.'� She said with resignation in her voice.
'You say you know, but you're acting like I'm lying.'� His words were even, but his tone was dangerous. 'I have never refused to help with Nate.'�
'No, you haven't refused.'� She agreed. Then she thought of Eric sitting on the nursery floor playing with her son while she slept. 'But you don't offer either.'�
He took a moment to digest the words and then asked, 'So is that what would make you happy? If I just offered to help more with Nate?'�
'Is that what would make me happy?'� She glared at him, her voice slightly raised. 'If you were concerned about making me happy, maybe you would look around once in awhile.'�
'What is that supposed to mean?'�
'That it wouldn't be that hard for you find things to do that would make me happy.'� She emphasized his words back to him in a falsetto, knowing she was pushing his buttons, but too angry to care. 'That if you looked at me, really looked at me, you'd be thinking about ways to really help rather than just ways to pacify me.'�
His eyes narrowed at her. 'I am not looking to pacify you, but you have to admit that you have been a little unreasonable.'�
Her mouth dropped open at his words and she finally shook her head at him in disgust. 'Just go away.'�
'What?'�
'Just go away!'� She yelled, then instantly felt her fury begin to escalate when Nate started to cry. 'Just go do whatever it is that you usually do. After all, your life hasn't really changed, has it? I'll clean up the kitchen and fold up your clean clothes and deliver them to your drawers in neat little bundles. And I will take care of bathing our son and getting him to sleep, just like always.'�
His eyes softened and he reached out a hand to her in appeal. 'Kate, I'm sorry. I think we both got carried away. Let me help.'�
She was too swept up in her feelings of self-righteous anger to look over and see the regret in his eyes. She turned her back on him and ignored the fact that he stood looking at her, helpless sadness in his eyes, until finally he gave up and left the room. She felt sick to her stomach and leaned over the counter, laying her head on her arms and feeling tears prick her eyes. But the breakdown didn't come, although her stomach felt as though there were a stone pulling her to the floor and her heart ached as though it were breaking in two, she still didn't cry. She was simply too tired.
Lying in bed that night she wanted to turn to Paul and rest her head on his chest and tell him she was sorry. But pride kept her from doing so; pride and the conviction that he was the one in the wrong and that he should be the one to apologize first. She knew he was awake, but he kept his silence. Time seemed to stretch on forever until finally she finally heard his breathing become even. She didn't know whether to feel angry or relieved that he had removed himself from the tension, even by such a simple act as falling asleep lying in the bed. But it was a long time before sleep finally claimed her.
The next morning she awoke with a strange feeling stirring in her, as though a decision had been made on some issue, and she got out of bed and began to dress, carefully applying makeup and fixing her hair. She checked on Nate and went downstairs to start some coffee and straighten up the kitchen. Toasting herself a bagel, she was near the door when Eric arrived. Watching him get out of his truck, she admired him as usual, but this time she didn't try to stifle the feeling of attraction that swirled within her at the sight of his tanned, sculpted body. She greeted him at the door and smiled back at him as he came in.
'Hello.'� He said, his eyes looking her up and down in appreciation. He gave a mock wolf whistle, saying, 'Wow. You look great this morning, Kate.'�
'Thanks.'� She replied, acknowledging the compliment without any coyness. 'Want some coffee?'�
He followed her into the kitchen and accepted the cup from her hands, their fingers touching briefly, and stood watching her.
'How was last night with Nate? Is he feeling better?'� He asked with concern.
'He's fine.'� She hesitated a moment, then added, 'I really do appreciate all that you did for me yesterday. It meant a lot.'�
'I was happy to do it.'� He paused, trying to read her mood, and then decided to take a chance. 'If I had the opportunity, I'd be willing to do a lot more.'�
'Oh, really?'� The topic was a dangerous one, but so was her mood. 'What would you do?'�
'What would you want me to do?'�
'Theoretically?'� She asked, taking the edge of intimacy from the conversation.
'If you like.'� He conceded, smiling.
She thought about if for a moment, then realized that what she really wanted was to have her relationship with Paul back, unchanged, along with her own individual life. But she could never wish Nate away, so she was always at an impasse. For Nate's birth was the catalyst to everything that existed now.
'I don't know.'� She said, dispiritedly, losing the flirtatious tone of the conversation. 'I guess it's silly to think about things that won't ever happen.'�
He tried to hide the quick flash of disappointment in his eyes. Putting his cup on the counter he crossed the room to her and pulled her up against his body, feeling a rush at the feel of her against him and the look of quick shock on her face.
'Eric'�'� she began with an edge of panic.
He ignored it and concentrated on her eyes instead, looking into them deeply. Taking his thumb, he ran it slowly along the bottom of her lip and then caressed the side of her face with sensual slowness. He heard her breath catch and felt her heart thudding against his.
Leaning down until his lips were at her ear, he whispered in a low voice, 'You deserve so much more than you have now, Kate. I could give it to you.'� He pulled back to look into her eyes again and cupped her face with both hands. 'I could give you anything you wanted. I could make you happy.'�
Kate's breath was quick and her heart was pounding. She knew that she should pull away, should stop this insanity immediately. But the heat in her body was lulling her mind into complacency and she found herself wishing that he would just kiss her, touch her, and do whatever he wanted to do. His words beguiled her, for she wanted someone to just take over and make her happy. She wanted someone else to be responsible and make the decisions that would be best for awhile; she was too tired. Wasn't that what she wanted? For someone to make her happy? God knew she wasn't doing a very good job on her own.
Eric saw her weakness and leaned forward, his lips just barely about to graze hers, when Nate's cries interrupted. He pulled back and watched reality and shame wipe the haze of desire from Kate's eyes and with a wry smile, he stepped back and put some distance between them.
'Go get your son.'� He said, his voice friendly and nonchalant. Inside, his emotions were churning and his body was begging him to push the issue. But he knew Kate could only be pushed so far.
She left the room without a word and he turned and headed downstairs with his toolbox. Putting all of his frustrations and desires into his work, he didn't stop at lunchtime, simply went to his truck and ate his sandwich while he finished the project. Kate didn't come looking for him, either, and he didn't know what that meant. As he worked, his mood grew blacker and more savage.
Upstairs, Kate was walking around in a daze, feeling flushed and horrified at the encounter. She could hardly believe that she had almost let him kiss her and her disbelief was even greater at the realization that she was disappointed that he hadn't succeeded. She wasn't the sort of woman who had affairs, although she would scarcely call one almost-kiss an affair. She was a happily married wife and mother; but she wasn't really that happy anymore, was she? When had she stopped being happy, really? The fight with Paul the day before had made her question herself closely, especially after the bitter anger had worn off. Was it really Paul's fault, like she would prefer to believe? She was terribly afraid that something was simply wrong with her, that she had failed at one of the things she had dreamed of her entire life.
She touched her lips with her fingers, remembering the sensuality that he had put into the gesture. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to make love with him. She had been with Paul for so long; she had envisioned Paul being the only person she would make love with for the rest of her life. The possibility of being with another man had never really occurred to her after her wedding vows, but now she felt the forbidden enter into her mind. Just the sight of Eric raised a primal urge in her that she had never felt before and the temptation to creep into the basement and finish the encounter was strong. Just the fact that she was entertaining the thought made her throw herself into her housework and caring for her son with a vengeance. She planned a wonderful dinner and set the table beautifully, even using real napkins. She played with Nate and nursed him whenever he wanted, trying to suppress any irritation that she felt. She lay with him for his nap and felt his warm little body cuddle up to hers and she felt sick inside, aching with needs and desires that had been suppressed for so long. But she beat them down into a tiny ball inside her and lay with her son, smoothing his hair and listening to his quiet breathing. She told herself how lucky she was and to stop feeling sorry for herself. She told herself that she would be cool to Eric the rest of the week until he was done and then he would be out of her life. The danger would be gone and she would get better. She would try harder to be a good wife and mother. She would be happy.
She lay with Nate until he was deeply asleep and then she eased from the bed, taking the baby monitor with her. Going downstairs she poured herself some lemonade and put the finishing touches on dinner. Hearing Eric come up the steps, she steeled herself to meet his eyes and put an end to any possibility of what might happen between them.
He entered the room resolutely, his eyes darkened by some emotion that she couldn't place: anger, desire, hurt. She didn't know. He carried his toolbox and set it on the counter, his eyes challenging hers.
'I've finished.'� He said simply. 'Would you like to come downstairs and look things over?'�
Surprised, she nodded and followed him into the basement. Rows of beautifully built shelves and cabinets lined the wall, waiting to be filled.
'It looks great.'� She said, not knowing what else to say.
'I'm sure that your husband will want to have the final inspection before he pays me.'� His voice was brisk and businesslike. 'If there are any problems, I can finish them up next week. But this is the drawing that we agreed upon, so I can't see there being any problems.'�
'Okay.'�
His eyes were hard on hers and she was confused by the anger she saw there.
'Well, Kate, is there anything else before I go?'�
She shook her head and tried to keep the yearning from her eyes, wanting to keep him there. Yet she knew that he needed to leave so that she didn't fall over the edge of a precipice that she couldn't be rescued from.
'Fine.'� He turned toward the door throwing out over his shoulder, 'Take care of yourself and your son. I'll let myself out.'�
He rounded the corner and she breathed a sigh of both relief and regret and sat down on a chair in the room. She looked up in surprise when he came charging back into the room and threw his toolbox to the ground with a thud.
'This is what you want, isn't it?'� He said, his voice dark and dangerous. 'You'd just like for me to walk out of your life so that you don't have to think or feel or make any hard decisions.'�
'What are you talking about?'� She asked, her voice small. She knew, but didn't want to acknowledge it.
'Don't play games.'� He spat at her in contempt. 'You're miserable, yet you'd rather stay miserable than rock the boat. You'd rather be a good girl that everybody likes, even if it means that you shrivel up and rot inside.'�
'It's not like that.'� She whispered, her face growing pale. 'I love Paul and I love our son. I have a good life.'�
'Do you?'� He continued relentlessly. 'Then why was I the one holding you while you cried yesterday? Why was I the one caring for your son while you got two hours of desperately needed sleep? Why was I the one that you poured your heart out to?'�
'You said that you'd be a sounding board.'� She stammered, her heart in her throat. 'You said you wouldn't make demands.'�
'I lied.'� He said, his voice low and urgent and tinged with bitterness.
He crossed the room and yanked her out of the seat and against his body, his mouth crashing down on hers, his hands pulling her into him. He slanted his lips against hers over and over, taking her breath and draining her of will until she was weak and kissing him back with all the pent up anger and resentment and passion that she had inside. She felt every angle of his body and felt her breasts crushed against his chest as he bent her backwards, exploring her mouth thoroughly. There was no tenderness, no gentleness in him now and she found that it excited her and relieved her of the responsibility of pushing him away. She threaded her fingers through his hair and enjoyed the texture of it against her hands, then pulled it slightly. Finally, he pulled away, his body shaking and his eyes hooded with desire and anger. Her body felt empty without him against her, bereft and cold except for the heat centered in her body.
'That's what I feel for you.'� He said, his voice rough and slightly hoarse. 'Don't try to deny that you feel it too. There's something between us, Kate. Don't turn away from it.'�
She looked into his eyes, unable to look away, mesmerized by the emotion that she saw there. The sound of a door slamming shut upstairs brought her back to her senses and she pulled away from him as she heard Paul's voice calling for her.
'Kate? Are you downstairs?'� Echoed down the basement, followed by the sound of footsteps.
She stepped back several paces and turned to look at the shelves, bringing a shaking hand up to her mouth to try to control her feelings. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment and then turned to face her husband.
'Hey.'� She said in a neutral tone, her voice more composed than she would have thought possible. Her heart was racing and she was desperately afraid that she was going to throw up, but her voice betrayed nothing. 'What are you doing home?'�
Paul looked at her oddly, then looked at Eric, sensing tension and yet unable to determine the source. 'I just wanted to see how things were going.'� He nodded to Eric and reached out a hand to him, 'Hi. I don't think that we've had a chance to actually meet in person yet. I'm Paul.'�
Eric hesitated a fraction of a second before reaching out and accepting Paul's firm handshake. He couldn't help but look Kate's husband over critically and size him up. He noticed that Paul's build was slightly smaller than his own and that he kept his body in decent shape. He saw the dark charcoal suit with the bright blue shirt and striped tie; obviously he was a paper-pusher in some office somewhere. His eyes took in the neatly combed brown hair and direct hazel eyes, the strong chin. Paul looked like the sort of man that a woman would want as a husband and a father; hell, he looked like the sort of man that he would want to have as a friend. Honest, dependable, trustworthy with eyes that met your own without looking away and without condescension. He tried to summon up some sort of guilt for what had just happened with Kate, but he felt none. Paul was the enemy.
'Good to meet you, Paul.'� He replied, his voice smooth and friendly. 'I was just telling your wife that I had finished up and letting her look things over. Of course, I knew you'd want to make sure it was what you wanted before we finalized everything.'�
'It looks great.'� Paul told him, walking over to the wood and running a hand along the smooth surface. 'Just like the drawing that I faxed to you. Come upstairs and I'll get you a check.'�
Paul headed for the stairs, expecting Eric and Kate to follow him. Eric tried to catch Kate's eye, but she was holding onto her composure by a thread and refused to even glance at him. Finally he followed Paul, going into the kitchen where Paul was ready with his checkbook. Kate followed, silent and subdued, and he couldn't help but see the guilt written all over her face. He knew that her husband must sense the strain, but he said nothing.
'You don't know how glad I'll be to have those shelves in.'� Paul told Eric conversationally. 'Kate's been wanting to get organized down there since we moved in and we'll finally be able to put some of the baby's stuff away.'�
'Hopefully these will work out well for you.'� Eric told him, more to be able to reply than anything else.
Paul tore the check out and handed it to him. 'Here you go. Thanks, it looks great down there.'�
'You're welcome. Thanks for the business.'�
'No problem.'� Paul began to walk him to the door. He opened the door for Eric and held it open until Eric walked through reluctantly. 'If we need anything else done, I'll give you a call.'�
Paul's voice was friendly, but his eyes were steel as he watched Eric on the step. Eric knew that he would never be called again by this man, even though Paul might not be able to put his finger on why.
'That'd be great.'� Eric said, realizing that he had no choice but to leave Kate with no sort of words exchanged about what had happened between them and what would happen next. 'You folks take care.'�
He heard the front door close and lock behind him on his way to his truck and he couldn't help a tiny smile at the sound. The sound of a closing door being locked at his back; it was a familiar sound.
Inside, Paul walked into the kitchen where Kate stood staring off into space and sipping a glass of tea. She jumped when he said her name.
'Are you okay?'� He asked her, confused and alarmed by her strange behavior. 'Did something happen?'�
'What do you mean?'� She was stalling for time and knew that he knew her well enough to guess her tactics. 'I mean, no, nothing happened.'�
'Kate.'� His voice was slightly admonishing. 'I come home early to see you and when I walk downstairs you could have cut the tension with a knife. Did that man say something inappropriate to you?'�
'Why?'�
'I don't know'�something about the look on your face and his.'� He said slowly. 'I just got a feeling off of him that I didn't like at all.'�
She searched her mind frantically, looking for some answer that would be acceptable.
'Kate.'� His voice was a command, something Paul rarely ever did.
'Fine.'� Her eyes met his, and then skittered away nervously. She silently offered up an apology to her husband and to Eric as she offered the saving lie. 'He made a pass at me.'�
'What sort of pass?'� He pursued, his eyes getting angry.
'He tried to kiss me.'�
'He tried to kiss you? Son-of-a-,'� He spat out in growing anger. 'I'm going to call that worthless piece of crap and tell him that I'm going to kick his ass.'�
'No!'� She shouted, then said more quietly. 'Please don't make a scene over it.'�
'Don't make a scene? You're my wife. You deserve respect.'� He told her furiously. 'What makes him think he has the right to come into your home and lay a hand on you?'�
'Paul,'� she implored, 'Please. I know you're angry.'� She tried to absolve herself of some of her feelings of guilt and anguish by saying, 'It's my fault.'�
'How could it possibly be your fault?'� He asked curiously.
'Well, I let him eat lunch with us a couple of times.'� She began, then held out the closest thing to honesty she could manage. 'I kind of flirted with him a little.'�
'Really?'� He said, with more surprise on his face than anger.
'I'm so sorry.'� She told him, the words more true than he knew. 'I guess it was flattering knowing that someone was attracted to me and I used it as an ego boost. It was wrong.'�
He looked at her with raised eyebrows for a minute and then he smiled wickedly. 'Well, well, well,'� He leered at her a little as he suggested, 'I've got a toolbelt around here somewhere. We can play carpenter anytime you like.'�
She couldn't help but laugh at him, even as her heart ached at her deception. 'Seriously, what are you doing home so early?'� She hastened to add, 'Although I'm certainly glad you are.'�
'I thought that I could watch Nate while you took a nice, long bath and got on some pretty clothes.'� He wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a moment. 'I'm taking you and Nate out to dinner.'�
'Really? That's what you came home for?'�
'Really.'� He said, smiling. He loosened his embrace and leaned back to look at her, his eyes suddenly serious. 'I know that you've been unhappy, Kate. I want to make things better. We just have to sit down and talk honestly and figure out what to do to make things better.'�
At his words, tears sprang into her eyes and began to overflow. Leaning into his chest, she started to sob.
'I'm so sorry.'� She cried, her words almost unintelligible.
'Shh.'� He told her. 'I know.'� But he didn't really know, so he simply held her.
That night, after dinner, Paul helped her bathe Nate and put him to bed and then they made love. She almost could believe that everything would be okay. Almost. But then Eric's face would creep into her mind and she remembered his lips and body against hers. She lay beside her beloved husband and thought: God forgive me, I still want him. She knew it was wrong and she hated herself. But it was there when Paul touched her and it was there when Paul lay with her afterward, holding her tenderly. She could only thank some divine providence that her husband's early arrival had intervened. She knew that with Eric gone, she would forget and that everything would return to normal. She also was worldly-wise enough to know that every couple sometimes lost the passion between them and that it would return one day; attraction to another man, no matter how strong, didn't bother her as much as the thought of constant contact with him. This was what she wanted, her husband beside her, the way he had always been.
The next afternoon she was in the kitchen, with Nate asleep in his crib, when the doorbell rang. Rounding the corner to see who it was, she stopped in her tracks when she saw Eric's face. She stood motionless for a moment, her eyes locked on his through the glass, until she reluctantly went and opened the door a crack.
'What are you doing here?'� She asked, her heart pounding. 'I thought everything was done.'�
'Everything?'� He asked, his eyebrows rising slightly. 'No, I'd say that I still have some unfinished business here.'�
'I don't think you should be here, Eric.'� She told him weakly and began to close the door. 'It's best if you just don't come back.'�
His foot slid in the small space between the door and the frame and stopped her from shutting it.
'Kate.'� His voice was soft, but there was an underlying layer of anger. 'We have things to discuss. We can do it at your front door for the neighbors to see and hear or we can do it inside. Your call.'�
Her lips tightened and she held her ground for a moment until she finally conceded and opened the door. 'Come in, but only for a minute and then you have to leave.'�
She went to the kitchen and stood by the counter. Turning, she faced Eric with a show of indifference that trembled around the edges. She tried to make herself immune to the sight of him; bronzed skin and sun-streaked hair with those glowing green eyes.
'So, talk.'�
He crossed the room to her and pulled her into his arms, his mouth on hers in the space of a heartbeat. She didn't want to react, didn't want to feel, but her body betrayed her and she found herself kissing him back. When she found the strength to break away, the movement was violent and abrupt and she was out of breath.
'Stop.'� She told him desperately. 'I don't want this.'�
He smiled, amused, and ran a finger along her moist lower lip before jerking her body up against his again.
'Really?'� His voice was mocking for a moment and then serious as her saw her eyes getting angry. 'What about yesterday? It certainly seemed like you wanted it then.'�
'That was a mistake.'� Her voice was calm now, sure of what she needed to say. 'I am married and I have a child. I can't break my marriage vows just because of an attraction that I have to someone else.'�
'I'd say that there is more than attraction between us.'� Conviction was in his voice; his confidence was maddening. He began to trace small circles on her back and he leaned in until his words made tiny breaths of air on her neck and ear. 'I know you, Kate.'�
'That's ridiculous. You don't know me.'� She insisted, but his nearness and his movements were making logic fade. 'That's just a line.'�
'Is it?'� He stayed calm and continued to rub her back softly, then brought his hands to her waist, his eyes boring into hers the entire time. 'I know that you love your son and that you think you love your husband, but at the same time you feel trapped. You want to be more than just a wife or a mother, but you don't see any way to make that happen, so you're starting to give up.'�
He suddenly jerked her chin up and forced her to meet his eyes. 'I know that you are bigger than a house in the suburbs and waiting on your husband and son hand and foot while your own dreams slip away.'�
She pulled away from him again. 'That's not what I'm doing.'� She protested, her voice containing uncertainty. 'This is only temporary, while Nate is so little, and then Paul and I will share things more equally. My dreams are just on hold.'�
Frustrated, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. Pointing above the mantle to her painting, he asked furiously. 'What about this? Is this on hold too?'� Seeing the subtle change that came over her face, he drove the point home. 'Do you even see those dreams in your head anymore, Kate? If you stay in this life, will you even be capable of something like this five years from now? Ten? Is that really what you think? That one day Paul is going to look at you and say, 'Thanks for the years of service, honey. Now it's your turn?''�
'What am I supposed to do?'� The look she turned on him was bleak, his words simply an echo of her own darkest thoughts. 'Leave my husband? Leave my son?'�
Seeing her weaken, he grabbed her arms and shook her, his voice urgent and low. 'No, I know that you could never leave Nate and that's one of the things I love about you.'� His hands slid up her arms, the touch gentle and caressing. 'But let me make you feel. Let me make you see those dreams in your head again.'�
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, but his scent was all around her. He seemed to envelop her senses and she began to feel drugged, powerless.
'How could I betray my husband that way?'� She asked, the question more for herself than Eric.
His lips on her neck lifted to whisper, 'But hasn't he betrayed you? Paul has everything he could possibly want; his life is perfect at your expense.'� He brushed his mouth over her ear. 'Is it really so wrong to take something for yourself? Who will it hurt if no one knows?'�
She wavered and seeing her temptation, he didn't wait. He plunged a hand into her hair and dragged her mouth to his. She struggled with her conscience for a moment, but his hands roamed her body as though he had studied it for years, and she slowly let herself go. The air stroked her skin and chilled her for a moment when he pulled her shirt away, but then his hands were there to warm her. There was a silent protest in her head when he unbuttoned her shorts and they fell to the ground, leaving her only in her white cotton panties. But his knowing hands and mouth made sure any protests remained silent, keeping the pace and the tension at a level that left her hardly able to think. It was sex like she had never known was possible in real life; even with Paul, with whom sex was always good, she had never felt such sensation.
She cried out at the end, the sound torn from her as much from anguish as pleasure, then she lay with his weight on top of her.
When he rolled off of her onto the carpet, she was instantly aware of the cold air on her bare skin. She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was her painting and she thought, incongruously, 'I'll never see that painting again without thinking of this moment' and she felt sadness. The painting had always summoned up an image of innocence for her; innocent was something she knew she would never feel again. The pleasure that had filled her so completely just a few moments before was fading and reality was returning, with it a sick sense of wrongness.
Eric sat up and leaned over her, the urgency gone from his face. The look on his face was vulnerable and apprehensive, but then the afternoon light shifted and the look was gone, making her wonder if it had been her imagination.
'Kate.'� His words were so soft, pitched for her ears only. 'Are you all right?'�
'I'm fine.'�
'Was it good for you?'� The question seemed an odd choice for him; it seemed he would hardly need to ask a woman about his lovemaking skills. 'I mean, I don't see how it couldn't have been. It seemed so electric.'�
'It was great.'� She told him honestly, her tone matter-of-fact. It had been mind-blowing sex, but she felt curiously numb lying there on her living room carpet.
'Please don't tell me that you're regretting that it happened.'� He pulled her up from the carpet and held her close. 'How could you regret something so beautiful?'�
'Beautiful?'� She echoed questioningly. Looking him in the eye, she told him softly, 'I think you should leave.'�
'Why?'� His tone was resigned, but the look in his eye was weary and sad.
'Because I think I just need some time alone to think this over and be by myself.'� The numbness was wearing off and her voice shook a little. She tried to hold herself together for a few more minutes. 'Besides, Nate will be waking up soon and I just feel really awkward.'�
'Okay.'� He said, watching her closely. He was worried about how composed and nonchalant she seemed, but it was obvious that she wanted him out quickly. 'Kate, this was meant to happen.'�
She nodded, not really hearing him, but just wanting him to leave her. 'We'll talk later.'�
He kissed her gently and lingeringly on the mouth. 'It was meant to happen.'� He repeated, then stood and pulled on his clothes.'�
When he was dressed, she still sat on the floor, nude. 'Kate, I don't think I should leave you.'�
'I'm fine, Eric.'� She smiled up at him, the expression not reaching her eyes. 'I really do want you to go. It's best for now.'�
He held her eyes, then gave a tiny shrug of defeat. 'I'm going to come by ton Monday and we'll talk then. Okay?'�
She nodded and he turned to walk away. When she heard the door close and latch, she stood and grabbed her clothes, then walked upstairs, heedless of the windows. She went in the nursery and looked at Nate, sleeping soundly for now.
Pushing open the door to her bathroom, she went inside and peeled off her clothes, then turned the shower on hot. Stepping inside, she let the scalding water rain down on her hair, her face, and her body. Taking the soap, she washed thoroughly, lathering away any trace of Eric, trying to scrub away the guilt. Laying the soap back down, she put both hands on the shower wall and leaned over, letting the water cascade into her eyes and mouth. Suddenly, her body began to heave; deep, wrenching sobs poured out of her. Banging her head into the shower wall, she let out a low keening sound of pain and crumbled to the floor. She heard Nate wake up and start to cry; she had brought the baby monitor with her into the bathroom. But still she sat there, her mouth open and her body shaking with sobs, until the water turned cold and she finally reached up and turned the knob off. She continued to sit in the floor of the shower, cold water dripping down her body, while she listened to Nate's sobs turn to terrified, angry shrieks. She finally managed to pull herself up and grab a towel, hurriedly drying herself and throwing on some clean clothes. She stopped short at the sight of the shorts and top she had stripped off before, her white panties lying on top in a heap; taking them she buried them at the bottom of the trash; she knew she would never be able to stand the sight of them again. Then, resolutely, she tried to wipe everything from her mind. Her son needed her.
She went to Nate and picked him up, trying to soothe him with gentle words and touch. He was too angry and hurt, though, and he continued to wail until she thought she would start screaming too. Paul's face kept flashing into her mind and she kept seeing him kissing her sweetly while he told her to go and rest. Gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut, she bared her breast for Nate and comforted him in the way she knew he liked the best.
As Nate began to calm, Kate tried to force herself to calm down. No one knew what had happened except for her and Eric; she would simply tell him tomorrow that it had been a mistake that could never be repeated. Paul would never know, must never know. Another flash: Paul looking into her eyes and telling her he loved her. His surprised eyes when she 'admitted' to flirting with Eric, then teasing absolution for something he didn't think was so bad.
Nate started to cry again and she realized that her hands had tightened on his body involuntarily and she loosened them and began to soothe him again. No one knew, she told herself. Paul would never find out.
She finished nursing Nate and then carried him downstairs to start dinner. When Paul arrived home Kate met him at the door with a smile, but she had a hard time meeting his eyes.
'Did you have a good day?'� Her voice was calm, interested. She realized then that anyone could be an actress if their motive was strong enough; far from being composed, she felt as though she were going to fly into a million pieces.
'Okay.'� He said, shrugging. 'What about you?'�
'Pretty ordinary.'� She continued setting the table, then looked up with a tiny frown. 'Oh, the carpenter stopped by today. He had apparently forgotten a tool the other day and just remembered that it was here.'�
'Really?'� Paul grimaced. 'How did that go? Did he try anything else?'�
She tried to swallow down the sudden nausea. 'No, it was fine. I think he got the message the other day.'� That should take care of any neighbors who might say something about Eric's truck being here, she thought. She felt a sudden, intense paranoia that Paul would find out through careless details.
'Well, at least he is out of your life.'� Paul commented, picking up Nate to whirl around the room with him. Nate laughed in glee.
'Yeah.'� She agreed, watching her husband and son play together. She suddenly felt a keen sense guilt and grief over her betrayal and she wanted to double over with the pain of it. But she simply told Paul, 'Dinner is ready.'�
That night she feigned a headache to avoid Paul's caresses. The memory of Eric's hands on her body was too vivid for her to allow her husband to touch her; she felt almost as though her body would betray her guilt involuntarily if Paul were to make love to her. Yet the thought that kept her tossing and turning most of the night was that she wasn't sure if she could find the strength to say no to Eric. The electricity between their bodies was too intense, almost surreal in the amount of pleasure that it had created. She would have liked to believe that she would tell him that it was over and would never happen again. She would have liked to believe she had that strength, but she knew she didn't. And she hated herself for it.
She managed to get through the weekend and by Sunday night she had steeled herself for the coming week. She knew that she could never see Eric again and keep her resolve; she knew that she would have to avoid him until he went away.
The next morning she did a few household chores and then called Paul at the office to arrange lunch. She met him at their favorite restaurant, then she went to the local mall and put Nate in his stroller. She walked with him, win