The Touch of a Woman (8 page)

“No way. I’m always going to care about what happens to her, but we won’t ever be in a relationship again. And we won’t ever…you know.”

Her sheepish look was charming. Apparently, “you know” was code for having sex.

“This time it finally feels like
never
, especially after we sold the house. We were so angry about everything…we didn’t even speak to each other for about six months. But then I ran into her last April at a wedding, and I went and gave her a hug. Huge mistake. She took it as an invitation.”

Ellis caught herself eating the edamame as if it were popcorn. “Here, we’re supposed to be sharing this.”

“We’re supposed to be sharing the conversation too, and all I’ve done is talk about Rita. What’s going on in your world?”

She’d rather listen to Summer than grouse about the fact that her kids were too busy to visit. That left work, where the only thing worth talking about was Rex, who had dropped by her desk again to invite her to lunch.

“There’s this guy at the magazine…Rex Brenneman. He’s the political writer.”

Summer peered over her glasses with a pensive look. “I know who he is. He wrote that column on the legislators who raked in campaign cash from the utility companies and then pushed through the rate increases. I bet something like that goes on in every single department.”

“Then you can also bet he’ll find out about it. He’s really sharp.” She was glad to hear Summer read
Vista.
It was validating to know her friends thought the magazine was worth their time. “It seems Rex has taken more than a professional interest in yours truly. He asked me to lunch today but I’d already eaten, so he promised to give me more notice next time.”

“Hunh.” A grunt that sounded like disapproval.

“I take it you think that’s a bad idea.”

Summer sighed and shook her head. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m kind of a hard-ass about stuff like that.”

“About dating coworkers?” Something felt wrong about Rex asking her out, so she was interested in getting Summer’s perspective. “I’ve heard that old dog maxim…about never going to the bathroom where you eat.”

“That’s part of it, because you don’t want to end up having a bad relationship with somebody and still have to look at them every day at work. But I can see how tempting it is. That’s the number one place you meet people. Plus you already have plenty to talk about because you know all the same people. Where I have a real problem is when there’s a power differential. This Rex, he’s a big shot, right?”

She nodded.

“Suppose you tell him no. Next thing you know, he goes to your boss and complains about your work. Not because you actually did anything wrong, but because he’s an asshole, and his opinion of you is colored by the fact that you turned him down.”

“And if I say yes?”

“If you say yes, you’ll never get credit for anything you do because everybody will say, ‘Oh, she only got promoted because she’s dating Mr. Big Shot.’ And again there’s the issue of what happens if it goes south later.
Awk
-ward.”

The subject had definitely touched a nerve. In fact, Summer was actually putting into words some of her own reservations. Ellis knew from a few of her friends in the City about the potential for disaster, but hadn’t experienced anything like that herself.

Summer went on, “I saw it happen in our office a couple of years ago, and the woman—it’s never the man, you know—she nearly lost her job over it. She probably would have if she hadn’t hired a lawyer.” She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, as if she were sorry she’d brought it up. “There must be happy stories too. Whatever you told him, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I didn’t answer one way or the other. To be honest, I was just floored. It never occurred to me someone would be interested in me that way.”

“I hope you’re kidding, Ms. Keene. Take it from a woman who appreciates attractive women. You’re a prize.”

Ellis couldn’t stop her lips from turning upward in an embarrassed grin. It was the same sort of compliment she’d been given on the phone the night before.

“I’m serious. You’re smart, you’re
very
pretty. And you’ve got yourself together.”

“I…thank you. That’s a first.”

“A lesbian telling you you’re pretty? I might be the first one who said it, but trust me—I’m not the first one to think it.”

She fanned herself, knowing her face was turning red. Summer’s flattery was even more open than Rex’s. “What surprises me is you thinking I’ve got myself together.”

“At least it looks that way on the outside. That’s half the battle, isn’t it?”

If Summer only knew how chaotic her life was, how hard she had to work to keep from wallowing in self-pity. How the smallest word or gesture that evoked her former life could trigger a stream of tears. She was many things but “together” was not one of them.

The turmoil seemed to pervade every aspect of her life—home, work, family and friends. If she dared forget, something would remind her. An unexpected bill, a letter from the attorneys. What’s more, it had been going on so long, she no longer considered it a disruption. It was the new normal.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Ellis had no idea how much time had passed while she ruminated on her mental state, but she knew from Summer’s look of concern that her own face had fallen. “No, not at all. I just…my battles are definitely on the inside.”

“Of course they are.” Summer reached over and took both of her hands. “You lost your husband. You left your home. I bet you lived in that house twenty years.”

“Twenty-two.”

“And you started a new job. Those are all pretty high on the stress list. I’m sure you’ve already got lots of friends to lean on, but if you could use one here in Sacto, I’d like it to be me.”

Could it? Most of her other friends had drifted away, never quite knowing what to say. Or more important, what not to say. Even Roxanne had stumbled because of her work demands. On a particularly challenging day, Ellis had launched into an emotional tirade and told her to forget it, that she didn’t need any part-time friends.

But Summer didn’t share the history her other friends did. She hadn’t known Bruce, hadn’t been to dinner parties in their home, hadn’t watched their kids grow up. It was awkward for everyone. Ellis wondered if she herself would have known how to respond had one of her friends suffered the same tragedy.

What she knew right now was that a sushi restaurant wasn’t the place to pour her heart out.

“I’m sure we’ll be friends, Summer. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. This past year has been a living hell.”

“You know what they say. Only one way to go from here, and that’s up.”

Ellis hoped she was right.

* * *

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! I can’t believe she’s pulling this crap again,” Summer grumbled when they turned into the parking lot at River Woods. Rita’s Jeep was parked in the guest space next to her car. “When is she going to get it through her head that no means no?”

“Do you think she’s drunk again?” Ellis asked.

“I doubt it…not this time. She thinks being sober’s the only way to get me back. She probably wants to make some kind of elaborate deal, where I take her back if she does everything on my list.”

“Or maybe she just wants the last word.”

“Could be. One thing I know for sure is she’s going to go apeshit when she sees me getting out of another woman’s car.”

“So get out on this side. She won’t even see you. Then when you think she’s not looking, sneak into my place. I’ll leave the door open.”

The plan worked to perfection, and Summer found herself inside Ellis’s apartment for the first time. It was exactly the same layout, but with a wider hallway between the kitchen and dining nook that led to a second bedroom. “I’m jealous. Look at all this space.”

“That’s funny. I was jealous when I saw your apartment because it wasn’t jam-packed with furniture. Every time I walk through this living room, I worry I’m going to fall over something.”

It was indeed crowded, but the furniture was tasteful. The modern sectional sofa was upholstered in rich green linen, with cream and gold accent pillows. The room’s décor included a couple of signed lithographs, and an abstract wall sculpture. Everything looked expensive.

Just like the Lexus outside. For the first time, Summer wondered what Ellis’s husband had done for a living. Obviously something lucrative. But from the way Ellis appeared to pinch pennies, she’d suffered a drastic lifestyle change.

Or maybe they were like so many other families of the Great Recession era—caught living beyond their means.

She peered out through the blinds and groaned to see Rita’s Jeep still parked. “I promise not to stay long. If she isn’t gone in a few minutes, I’ll suck it up and go out there.”

“There’s no hurry.” Ellis went behind the counter to the refrigerator. “This is normally the time I have a glass of wine, but I’ll skip it tonight if it bothers you.”

“I don’t mind. I have nothing against people having a drink. Just the ones who don’t know when to stop.” She took a seat on one of the barstools while Ellis poured a glass of chardonnay.

“I have to admit, if I didn’t get a splitting headache after two glasses, I swear sometimes I’d drink myself into a coma.”

It was obvious something had been bothering Ellis ever since their conversation in the restaurant. There were even a couple of moments where Summer had thought she might cry. No wonder she took a drink at night. With all the upheaval in her life, it truly was amazing she didn’t drink all the time.

Before Ellis could sit down with her wine, her cell phone pinged and she excused herself into the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She left the door open though, and Summer was glad to hear her animated voice.

From her barstool, she noted a framed photo on a corner table—two guys in their late teens and a younger girl. Probably her children. Nothing of an older man who might have been her husband.

Ellis was grinning when she returned. “That was my son Jonathan, the one studying poli-sci at Stanford and trying to get into law school. He finally confirmed he’s coming for Christmas dinner, so that means I’ll have them all here. I asked for a little space after I moved in, but I didn’t mean for them to jump off the face of the earth.”

“It’s nice to see you smiling.”

Ellis winced slightly and nodded. “I’m going to try to do that more often.”

“I’m sure it’s tough for you sometimes. When Rita and I split up, I was miserable. I mean, let’s face it—we were together a long time and it hurt not to have her there anymore. I went a long time without smiling too.”

Ellis stared blankly at her wine, her cheerful spell broken.

“Not that I went through anything as bad as what happened to you, Ellis. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed at all after your husband died.”

Those were the words that spawned the tears, which Ellis quickly wiped away.

Summer patted her forearm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I can see it’s bothering you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Ellis squeezed her eyes shut, and for a moment it appeared she was burying her emotions. “My husband…he worked at Kerner-Swift. The financial services company.”

The baritone voice of their spokesman played in her ear.
Kerner-Swift—So it’s there when you need it.

“But then last year…you probably read about it…the office shooting.”

“Oh, my God! At the Transamerica Pyramid.”

She’d imagined cancer, a heart attack. Nothing as horrific as a murder. That bastard had slaughtered seven defenseless people, all trapped behind their desks.

“Ellis, you poor, poor thing.” Her eyes stung with tears of compassion. She rose to offer a hug but Ellis stiffened her shoulders and pulled away.

“No, no sympathy. I don’t deserve it.”

For a moment, Summer was confused—until she saw Ellis’s look of utter horror.

“My husband was Bruce Rowanbury. The shooter.”

Ellis waited for the look of shock and disgust on Summer’s face, knowing it would come as soon as her news sank in. People could guard their words but never their face or manner.

As Bruce’s survivors, she and her children were forced to carry his guilt. How could he have hoarded all those handguns and ammunition without the family knowing about it? Couldn’t they see he was dangerously mentally ill? Why had they pretended so long nothing was wrong?

The shooting had turned the whole family into pariahs.

Instead of revulsion, Summer’s gray eyes were brimming with tears. “I can’t imagine how horrible that was for you. It doesn’t matter how it happened. You suffered a terrible loss.” She ignored Ellis’s resistance and hugged her anyway.

Bruce had died in a barrage of gunfire when cornered by the SWAT team, a fact that was roundly cheered by the media, and even by many of their friends. Virtually alone in her grief, the only thing that kept her going was her kids, especially Allison. The poor girl had been forced to finish out the school year, her days filled with whispers and taunts.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Ellis pleaded. “I’m sick of dealing with their hateful looks and the gossip behind my back.”

“I won’t say a word. There’s no reason for people to treat you that way.” Summer held her embrace, swaying as if to music. “No wonder you moved here. You needed a fresh start.”

Ellis savored the comforting warmth of her hug. The shooting had robbed her of this kind of friendship. Everyone saw Bruce’s horror, but none her humiliation. In Summer, she had a friend who didn’t judge her. Who sympathized not only with her shame, but with her loss.

Summer finally returned to her barstool but held fast to her hand.

“They asked me if I’d noticed any changes in Bruce…if I knew he had those guns. I had no idea of anything, I swear. He kept everything locked up in the garage with his tools.”

“That’s so awful.”

“He’d been lying to us for three years about his job.” Her voice rose with agitation.
“We finally pieced it all together after he died. It started when they brought in a new regional director at Kerner-Swift. That was Bruce’s job. He got put back into the field as a client manager, but he never told any of us. One of the men who used to work for him said Bruce had given up all his contacts years ago to his reps—the guys who worked for him. Why would he need them if he was the regional manager, right?”