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husband had died, and without him nothing really mattered.
Katherine felt a wash of emotions. "I'm sorry, Jessica. You're right. I should focus on being glad Elliott's
alive, not worrying about this other silly stuff."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. The truth has a way of making itself heard." Katherine took another sip of the
calming tea. "Besides, I didn't mean to pick at your scabs. I guess I've had this brewing in my mind and it
just sort of erupted."
"You know better, Katie," Jessica chided. "You don't have to edit what you tell me. If this has been
bothering you, you should have said something."
"I feel pretty stupid about the whole thing. I hate it when I hear about other women acting like this. I
always wonder why they don't trust their husbands or if they don't, why they don't confront them, get
things out in the open."
Jessica's brow quirked. "You tried that?"
Katherine smiled sheepishly. "I've stuck to the complacent-wife mold so far."
"You'll know if there's a right time to say something, or if this is one you just keep under your hat."
Katherine's expression was rueful. "At this rate I'm going to need a six-foot-tall top hat."
"That bad?"
"I loved Elliott just the way he was, but now he's forceful, confident& "
"More attractive?" Jessica suggested.
Katherine felt warmth seep into her cheeks. "I guess it sounds silly, but this new edge he has & actually
it's more exciting."
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"That doesn't sound like such a bad thing."
"No. But I wonder what happened to everything that used to matter to him. It's almost as though he's
avoiding anything at all to do with food preparation."
"Maybe, in some weird way, it's tied to his fear of what happened."
"I don't get it." Katherine shook her head. "He was flying, not cooking, when he had the accident."
"Not that exactly," Jessica protested. "But maybe his fear is connected to the set of memories that are
close to what happened that day, something he's not comfortable with yet."
Katherine's eyes widened. "Do you think he feels that way about me, too? After all, I'm a big part of that
time, the one he seems to want to forget."
"Jeez, Katie, I didn't mean for you to make a leap like that!"
"But it makes sense, doesn't it, Jessica?" Katherine set her mug down. "If he wants to forget the pain of
that day, I'm a walking reminder. One he can't get away from day or night unless he goes to meetings,
ones that don't have anything to do with business."
"Oh, Katie, that was the worst leap yet!"
But Katherine wasn't seeing her friend. Instead, staring out the window, she could see the plane crash,
Elliott's uncertainty when he returned. Soberly she turned toward her friend. "No, I'm afraid I'm finally
facing the truth."
* * *
The star-strewn night skyoutdazzled the lights strung around the elaborate reception area. Waves from
the bay lapped against the pilings that supported the building's impressive proportions. A Victorian
delight, the house for the reception had clapboard siding, cupolas and a widow's walk. It was a setting
designed to enchant, a romantic fantasy that promised to add luster to weddings and anniversaries.
And as the caterers, Paul and Katherine's contribution to this fantasy was to make sure the food and
libation flowed smoothly, that the gourmet treats appeared effortlessly, that the glasses of champagne
never emptied. It was illusion and packaging. It was stuff and nonsense. But their clients ate it up
figuratively and literally.
Paul had been watching Katherine for the better part of the evening. Dressed in some sort of
lace-and-silk confection, she looked as though she could be the bride, her face aglow, eyes sparkling,a
ready smile leaping to her lips time and again.
Now she approached, her hands filled with a heavy tray of soiled dishes.
Automatically he took it from her. "There's no need for you to haul around the heaviest stuff here," he
admonished.
She shrugged. "I'm strong. It doesn't hurt me."
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"You're not one of the guys," he continued, surprising both of them.
For a moment she froze, her wide-eyed gaze catching his. Then her hands ran nervously down the sides
of her dress. "I guess I'm not." She pushed self-consciously at the long curly hair that spilled over her
shoulders. In that instant she looked like some fey creature all lace and silk, ivory skin and a cloud of
hair.
"Try to remember that," he added lamely, his own concentration shot to hell as he shoved the dishes
onto a waiting cart.
Again her hands fluttered before falling uselessly to her sides. "I will."
Unable to halt the motion, he gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. A small diamond earring
winked at him, reflecting the moonlight as aptly as an ocean wave.
"Oh." Katherinesighed the word, a breathy exclamation that captured so much more than the mere
utterance.
"Elliott! Katherine!" Ben called as he approached.
Frozen in their own tableau, it took them several moments to break apart. But even as the cook
approached, Paul couldn't completely sever his concentration. He realized that given a few more minutes,
he might have been unable to resist the urge to pull her close, to see if she felt as good as she looked.
Katherine, seeming ruffled for the first time that evening, turned to Ben. "What is it?"
"Carter's all bent out of shape. Says we don't have enough oysters and the mangoes aren't ripe."
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