Letters From The Ledge (23 page)

“
Men don’t follow titles. They follow courage.”

- Braveheart

"There you are!" Nate came up behind Paige and put a hand on her shoulder, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She pretended to peruse the menu with interest. "I was beginning to think you weren’t coming."

"Nonsense. And miss this view?"

"What view? We’re in downtown Manhattan."

He took the seat across from her. "This view."

Paige looked up to find him smiling at her. "Oh you’re a smooth one, aren’t you? You think you can just waltz in here late and sweet talk me into forgiving you?"

"No." He pulled his other hand out from behind his back, producing a small but perfect white rose. "But I was hoping maybe this would push you over the edge."

She filled her lungs with its delicate fragrance. "Are you going to tell me that you’re late because you stopped to buy me a flower?"

He shook his head, matter of fact. "No. I’m late because I was stuck on a conference call. I had my
secretary
buy you the flower so that I would have something other than an apology to bring with me."

"At least you’re honest." She turned the flower around in her hand. “And Christina did a very nice job. This will be gorgeous when it finally opens up.”

Nate looked at her while she looked at the flower. “Yes, I think it will.”

The waiter came and Nate ordered a sparkling water, then laid the napkin across his lap and sipped the water already on the table. "So, did it work?"

Paige looked up. “Did what work?"

"Am I forgiven?" His eyes were warm and sincere.

"I guess so." She fiddled with her water glass. "But I’ll have you know I’ve had three marriage proposals since I sat down."

"I don’t doubt it. You look very beautiful tonight. Did you get your hair cut?"

"Um, yeah–actually I did."

The waiter slid the bottle and a chilled glass in front of Nate. "Thank you." He looked back at Paige. "It’s nice. I like what it does for your face."

She eyed him skeptically. "Do you
want
something?"

"No, why?"

"I don’t know. You just seem to be in an awfully good mood."

"I am in a good mood! So, tell me about your day."

"Well, considering the fact that we’re not on a beach in Barbados right now, I’d say it was a pretty good day. Frank’s been really quiet lately, which is totally uncharacteristic."

Nate shifted in his seat. His hackles immediately went up. "How so?"

"Well, normally he’s all over me about every little detail, making comments about my wardrobe, stuff like that. I should be done with everything by the middle of next week, so I’m just trying to limit my interactions with him, but I had to talk over a report with him today and it was like he was in another world."

"Oh yeah?"

“He was highly distracted, and kind of angry. He’s so unpredictable sometimes. It makes me nervous.”

Nate couldn’t help it. Brendan’s face, swollen and discolored, ran through his mind followed by the photo on the LCD screen of his purpled ribs. He started tapping his fingers on the table, totally disengaged from whatever it was she’d said.

"Hello! I’m over here!”

Nate looked over. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Hey–a minute ago you were feeling great–what changed?"

"I don’t know." Nate looked down at the table.

Paige put both arms up on the table. "You know, you’re a terrible liar. It's actually one of the things I like best about you."

His eyebrows went up. "That's a strange thing to like about someone."

"Yeah, but think of it from my perspective” she teased. “Nothing will ever be hidden from me.” Her eyes took on a sultry look. “And considering you're one of the hotter tickets on the market, I'd say I sleep pretty well at night."

He blushed, shaking his head. "You're shameless."

"I'm just saying, is all."

He sipped his water and tried to avoid further questioning.

Paige hooked her hands under her chin. "Come on Nate, what gives?”

“You know, my timing kinda sucks sometimes, and I’m not sure it’s is the best time to talk about this.”

“Talk about what? We’re not going to look at the dog poop again, are we?”

He rubbed his temples vigorously with the palms of his hands. "I saw Brendan the other day."

"Frank’s Brendan?"

"Yeah."

"How? When?"

"He called me and wanted to meet, so we had a cup of coffee at Starbucks."

Paige sipped on her water and adjusted her position. “Ok, so?”

“I’m probably going to be working with him on the possibility of a job somewhere down the line.”

“With Brendan. A job? Really? Isn’t he a little young?”

“He’s about to graduate.”

“But he hasn’t been to college yet.”

“I know. We’re working on that.”

"Well, what kind of skills does he have? Aside from rolling joints and scaring the neighbors half to death."

Nate grinned. "Hey, that was pretty good."

"Well, you know–I do what I can." Paige sat back and crossed one leg over the other.

Nate tried to find a way to relay the jist of his conversation with Brendan, but the image of those bruises wouldn’t leave his mind. Brendan had all but asked him to keep it between the two of them. Surely Paige was safe with Frank in the office during business hours.

The real question was whether or not it was worth her trust to withhold that kind of information. Chances were good she'd find out eventually, and with the way things had been going between them, he couldn't risk another wedge. The last thing in the world she would want was to feel somehow unprepared for that kind of a possibility. He shook his head. Always the skipper; always calculating the odds. Why couldn’t he just have a normal conversation with her?

He gathered the words he needed and tried to bundle them together into some sensible order.

Paige’s forehead crinkled into a mass of lines. "This isn’t good, is it?"

"No, it’s not.” Nate blew all his breath out and then took in a fresh supply. “When Brendan showed up at the coffee shop he was in bad shape."

"Drugs?"

"Well yeah, that too–but I think I know why he uses so much."

"Do tell."

It was so much harder to get the words out than he thought it would be. Even though it was happening to someone else, he couldn’t help feeling shaken. "Frank beat him up, Paige. Black eye, cut on his cheek, and probably some broken ribs.”

Paige blinked back her surprise. "What?!"

"Apparently Frank was drunk at the time but–I know" Nate sighed. "I couldn’t believe it myself until I saw the bruises.” He hesitated, watching her for signs of triggering. “It wasn’t the first time either."

Paige’s shock turned briefly to skepticism. "Are you sure, Nate? I mean, the kid uses drugs. He could have gotten in a fight with anyone. He could be playing on your sympathies.”

Nate shook his head. "No. I'm sure. I’ve had some pretty deep conversations with Brendan over the last few weeks. I don’t think he’s playing me.” He sighed again. “I know he’s not Paige. This is real, and I didn’t want to freak you out, but I thought you should know.”

"That can't be. I mean, Frank's a lot of things but surely he's not capable of–"

He let the information sink in. As understanding dawned, Paige began to tremble, ever so slightly. Nate grabbed her hands to steady her. "Paige, look at me."

Her eyes went everywhere but his. "With all of his sexual innuendo if he has a violent side too then…I can’t believe this. I went to Switzerland with him. He could have…I don’t know–I don't–"

He watched her head jerk forward. She clamped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the ladies room.

For a full ten minutes Nate paced outside the entrance to the women’s bathroom. He tried to concentrate on letting the blood flow so he didn’t lose all the feeling in his fingers. An older woman finally came out but still there was no sign of Paige.

She smiled sympathetically. "Is that your wife in there?"

Her assumption caught him off guard. He must have had that deer-in-the-headlights look.

She grabbed one of his hands and patted it. "Don’t worry dear–the morning sickness only lasts a few weeks. She’ll be right as rain before you know it."

"Thanks." It wasn’t worth explaining.

She let go of his hands and started toward the exit.

"Wait! Was there anyone else in there?"

"I don’t think so dear. I was the last one out besides your wife." She hunched up her shoulders and whispered loudly. "Oh go ahead! I don’t think anyone would mind!"

She barely had the words out before Nate flung open the door to the ladies room and stepped inside. All the stall doors were open except for one, and when he dipped his head he could see Paige sitting on the floor.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I think so."

He swallowed, squatting down in front of the door. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you."

"Yes, you should have! You can’t protect me from the world Nate!"

"Look at you! How can you say that?"

She opened the door, took a deep, exasperated breath and blew it out at him, hooking her arms around her knees. "Just because I react to the things I’ve been through, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to go through them – or even talk about them."

Nate put his hands together between his knees and dropped his head down. "Every time this happens I get so scared. You go places I can’t follow, and I never know when or even
if
you’re going to come back to me. The psychiatrist said we should keep triggers to a minimum. It can’t be healthy for you to–"

"I know what the psychiatrist said." She grabbed hold of his forearms, pulling herself onto her knees until she was forehead to forehead with him. His body began to shake and for once she was the comforter–a strange sort of role reversal, given the circumstances.

"But remembering and reacting are part of the process. Sometimes it’s sudden and out of the blue–like a veteran that still has nightmares years after the war. Sometimes it’s triggered. I just have to deal with it.” Paige started to cry. “I know it hasn’t been easy living with me, and I’m sorry."

He tried shaking his head but Paige grabbed his face in her hands and stilled it. "Don’t deny it, and don’t gloss over it as if it’s nothing. I watch what it does to you, and it’s so hard sometimes–knowing that I can’t be everything you want me to be."

Nate lifted his eyes to meet hers, and for once he didn't try to argue or steer, and something crumbled inside.

Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. "Thank you for sticking by me." She leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "Honestly? I never thought you would."

"I can’t help it." He brushed the hair back away from her face. "I couldn’t leave you if I tried. I love you Paige."

Her eyes softened and a smile kissed the corners of her mouth. For once he’d gotten the timing just right.

__________

On Saturday morning, nine a.m. came and went and Brendan didn’t show. Nate ended up apologizing to Jeremy and then heading back to his office. When he fired up his computer there was an email from Brendan, saying he’d be late and could he show up at nine-thirty instead. In his defense he’d sent it at one a.m. so he
had
given notice, Nate just hadn’t checked his email yet. Jeremy would be there most of the morning so Nate decided to just wait it out.

At nine twenty-eight Brendan walked in the door. With no Christina to stop him, he headed straight for Nate’s office, past a curious Jeremy.

“Good morning Brendan.”

“Did you get my email?”

“Just.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“So what held you up, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean, you obviously knew in the middle of the night that you’d be later than planned.”

“I had to go to the bank. They didn’t open until nine and they close at one on Saturdays. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here this morning. I hope it wasn’t a problem?”

Nate couldn’t figure out why he was so agitated. It was a Saturday, for goodness sake, and it wasn’t like he was paying Brendan to be there. “It’s fine, Brendan. Come on–I’ll introduce you to Jeremy.”

“Oh–wait! I’ve got something for you.” Brendan slid a messenger bag off his shoulder and opened it up. “I finished a bunch more stuff. I wanted you to see it.” He grinned sheepishly. “In fact, I decided to try out a few ideas on how I’d refocus my dad’s company’s image, just for fun, because I know that’s the kind of thing you do here. It’s the only business I currently have a little bit of firsthand knowledge of, so I put some ideas in there that I’ve been working on. To show you what I can do, you know.”

Nate took the folder and set it on his desk. “Thanks. I’ll take a look at it.”

Brendan looked disappointed but followed Nate out to where Jeremy was working. Since Jeremy had already been briefed on Brendan’s visit, there wasn’t much to do except leave them alone to get acquainted.

Nate went back to his office and shut the door. The wall of glass provided a nice view of their interactions, but shutting the door indicated a nice balance between trust and oversight.

He pressed the button on the espresso maker and waited while it dripped out an Americano, then sat down and flipped open the folder. Brendan’s work was brilliant for an eighteen-year old kid with no formal training. His eye for page design and image placement was nearly perfect, and some of his ideas for a makeover of Frank’s image were things even Nate hadn’t considered.

He sat sipping his coffee and marveling at the kid’s talent. Brendan and Jeremy appeared to be totally engaged in one another’s processes. Brendan’s eyes were bright and clear. In fact, Nate noticed for the first time that Brendan was dressed in a nicely ironed, plaid button-down shirt, clean jeans without holes, and he’d ditched the Converse in favor of what looked like a nice pair of leather shoes. His hair was short and the piercings were gone–at least for today.

Around eleven Nate slipped out to let them know he’d ordered in some lunch. When Brendan excused himself to use the bathroom, Nate turned to Jeremy.