Monahan 01 Options (9 page)

I decided to get out of my work clothes before I started on my manic cleaning routine and headed for the bedroom where I stripped off my clothes and peeled off my control top pantyhose. Now that’s relief. The pain we go through to look good. After fumbling around in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor I found my sweatpants and an old shirt. Clothes were sorted into two piles, laundry and dry cleaning. I stripped the bed and added the sheets and pillowcases to the laundry pile. I was on a roll.

I considered myself lucky because I had a washer and dryer in my apartment. I loathe doing laundry and the chore became more hateful every time I had to schlep to the laundromat so a couple of years ago I made the plunge and bought an apartment size, stackable washer and dryer. Technology at its finest. A load of whites went in first and I grabbed the plastic dishpan that held all of my cleaning supplies and marched off to battle.

By the time I finished cleaning it was nine o’clock. I sat on the couch, lit a cigarette and looked around me. Beautiful. My stomach was calling and together we thought about dinner. My mind inventoried the food in the fridge but my stomach was yelling for pizza. I couldn’t argue.

Tony’s Pizzeria, in my opinion, was one of the best in Toronto. Alfredo answered the phone.

“Tony’s Pizzeria,” he said with a thick Italian accent.

“I’d like to speak to Tony,” I said in a thick Irish brogue.

“Tony’s not a-here, can I a-help you?” Alfredo replied.

“Hi Al, it’s Kathleen.” I dropped the phoney brogue. Tony had never existed but this was a game we played every time I called. Alfredo was Puerto Rican but had a great, just off the boat, Italian accent when it suited him.

“K-k-Katie, beautiful Katie, you’re the only g-g-g-girl that I adore,” he sang. I cut him off before he finished all three verses of the old wartime song.

“I’m hungry,” I stated.

“The usual?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” I drawled and the saliva in my mouth started up as I thought about the sauce on the pizza, lightly spiced and the gooey cheese. “Just mushrooms and lots of cheese,” I reminded him.

He sounded insulted that I had to remind him. “I know, I know,” he said. He dropped his voice a little and said in his sexiest voice, “So when are you gonna let me take you out for a real meal?” This was another game we played.

I lowered my voice and whispered into the phone, “Ooh Alfredo, you name the time. Just let me know when your wife can line up a baby-sitter, or better yet, bring all the kids and your wife, and we’ll make it a real party,” I laughed.

“Pizza’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Ciao baby.”

I was chuckling as I hung up the phone. I headed to the kitchen to set the table and find my purse to pay the delivery boy. He arrived in about eighteen minutes and I tipped him generously.

I opened the top of the box and breathed in the aroma. I served myself a slice, put my napkin on my lap and dug in. Although I don’t cook, I believe in the formality of dinner time so food prepared by someone else gets the same treatment in my house. I wolfed down two slices before I started to slow down.

After I ate, I curled up on the couch with a new book and covered myself with an old quilt. The breeze coming through the open French doors was chilly but I loved the crispness of the air. The apartment smelled clean and the breeze from outside was fresh. I was in heaven.

I studied the cover of the book. A woman with long, flowing auburn hair was locked in a passionate embrace with a man who looked like he could anchor the evening news on network TV. She was wearing a low cut, peasant-style blouse which exposed the tops of her breasts. I wish.

The book was a fast read and I skimmed through about three chapters before I stopped to light a cigarette. The story was similar to the dozens of other novels I had read - poor woman, rich man. They meet, they argue, they secretly pine for each other and eventually end up locking lips in a mad embrace at the end of a particularly nasty argument.

I thought about why I read these books. Always looking for my knight in shining armour and reading these books kind of kept the fantasy alive. Reading for me was pure escapism and I justified my habit by reminding myself I didn’t drink or take drugs. Cigarettes and romance books. My two vices. Probably time to clean up my act.

I heaved myself off the couch and stood looking out the front windows to the street below. I was restless and had nagging feelings which I tried to pinpoint. I had frantically cleaned my apartment and ate my dinner like a stevedore. My planned and forced relaxation on the couch hadn’t lasted long. As usual, I was avoiding things.

Evelyn’s death hung over me. As trite as it sounded, it made me sad. Sad is an emotion that usually doesn’t have any backbone and it’s hard to define. My whole body started to ache with sadness, thinking about her. The more I thought about Ev, the more restless I became. I paced in the living room and ruined the nice look of the freshly vacuumed carpet. I couldn’t understand her death. Why did she have to die? I had been avoiding thinking about her all day by keeping busy and now I didn’t have anything to keep me occupied. The book bored me. I checked the TV Guide to see if there were any sports on the television and as usual, I came up empty. Friday night sitcoms and news shows. Forget it.

I phoned Danny. I hadn’t talked to him since last night. The phone rang a couple of times before he answered.

“Hello.” He sounded tired.

“Danny, it’s Kathleen. How’re things?”

“All right, I guess.” The tone of his voice told me I would have to carry the conversation.

“Is there anything you need? How are your brother and sister?” I asked.

“They’re fine. The neighbours have been in and out with food. There’s nothing I need right now.”

“Danny, when’s the funeral? Have you set the time yet?”

“No, they’re not releasing the body. The doctor said they have to do an autopsy to determine the cause of death.”

I was surprised. “I thought she died from a reaction to nuts.”

“When I spoke to the doctor this morning, he said the cause of death was undetermined so they had to do an autopsy. He said they’re backed-up at the morgue so it could take a couple of days.” He paused. “I just want to bury her.” He started to cry softly.

I felt helpless and didn’t know what to say. “It’ll be okay Danny. Take it easy. Is there anything I can do? Is there anyone there with you?” I asked.

“Jonathan’s here. Elaine left a while ago to go home. I’m all right Kate. I’ll call you if I need anything. I gotta go.”

I said good-bye to a dial tone.

chapter twelve

I thought I’d try my luck with Jay. See if he’d forgiven me.

“Yeah,” he answered on the first ring.

“What telephone manners,” I said. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine thank you. And you?” he said like a five year old.

“Bored. Sad. Restless. I cleaned the apartment, ate dinner, tried to read for a while. Have you forgiven me yet?” I asked.

“For what?”

“Don’t be a smart-ass Jay.” I changed the subject. “What time did you get out of the office?”

“About seven. I headed for the hills when the yelling reached a fever pitch.”

“Yeah? Who was yelling?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like Oakes and Cox. I was working on that stock option report, trying to get it finished. I had a couple of questions for Rick but never got past his door. When I went to go in I could hear yelling in his office so I hightailed it out of there. They sounded busy.”

“I’m surprised. I saw Oakes with his coat on when I left. What were they yelling about?”

“I didn’t stop to listen Kate.”

“Come on Jay. Didn’t you put your ear up to the door?”

“Unlike you Kate, I believe in letting some people have their privacy. Besides, it was none of my business.”

Ouch. “So Rick never got his report.”

“Yes he did. I sent it to him on e-mail. Not that he’ll read it but my ass is covered. There’re still outstanding problems. I worked backwards and ended up using the stock option numbers you gave me from the last board meeting. There’s no sense to why those numbers on the system were changed and I couldn’t find any back-up for them. I’m sure it’ll get sorted out when I talk to Rick about it. Why did Didrickson keep the originals of the two lists?”

“I’m not sure. And, he was anxious to see Oakes at the end of the day. Must have been something important for Harold to want to see Oakes. Maybe it was about the lists.”

“Oh yeah, really Kate,” Jay said sarcastically. “Didrickson is going to bother Oakes with a clerical error.”

“Well, Mr. Smarty Pants, maybe Harold thought someone had been diddling with the numbers. Maybe he thought you had a fairy godmother too.”

“Are you starting up again?” Jay’s voice went up half an octave.

“Sorry. Really. Forget it. Listen, I talked to Danny. They haven’t released Evelyn’s body yet. He said they want to do an autopsy to determine the cause of death.”

“It wasn’t a reaction to nuts?” Jay asked.

“They’re not sure.” The sadness started to overwhelm me again. I slumped against the wall. “I gotta go Jay.”

“Kate? You all right?” Jay asked quietly.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I could hear Jay calling my name as I hung up the phone but I ignored him and hung up anyway. I slid down the wall to a sitting position on the floor and hugged my knees and was suddenly so tired I couldn’t move. The adrenaline had finally vacated the body. I had been up since five that morning.

The phone rang and I didn’t answer. If I could just get up the energy to stand up and go to bed, I thought. I didn’t even have enough fuel in me to crawl. The phone stopped ringing after five rings. My throat tightened up and I started to cry. Twice in two days. My crying was quiet at first and slowly changed to gasping sobs. I rolled on my side and hugged myself. I could feel the carpet beneath my cheek getting wet.

I stopped crying when the phone started to ring again. It seemed like I had been crying for a century but it must have been about two minutes. I ignored the phone and closed my eyes and fell asleep and dreamed that Jay was holding me. He was telling me it was okay, that he forgave me. He was stroking my hair and his arms felt good around me.

I opened my eyes and I was looking into Jay’s. He was sitting on the floor in my hallway, holding me on his lap. His arms were around me and it felt good. My heart was in my throat the moment I realized I wasn’t dreaming.

“Jesus Christ. You scared me Jay.”

“Shut up Kate.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Just a few minutes. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I pushed his arms away and struggled to my feet. Jesus, I felt warm. Jay certainly throws off body heat, I thought. He got to his feet and leaned over and touched his nose to mine. “I was worried about you.”

He was going to make me start crying again. “Do you want some coffee?” I asked, quickly changing the subject. I was great at changing the subject. “I’ll make decaf,” I pronounced as I hurried into the kitchen. I fussed about making coffee, feeling like a fourteen year old school girl. Calm yourself Kathleen. The man is like a brother. You’ve known him since you were six. I turned around to look at Jay who was leaning against the doorframe with this hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wasn’t hard to look at. Jay was thirteen inches taller than me and had dark hair that hugged his head. His eyes were dark brown, almost black. His face was square and the most prominent feature was his nose. Not overly large, but noticeable because the slight bend in it where it looked like it had been broken and not properly re-set.

“If I remember correctly, I gave you a key to my apartment to check the fish when I was on vacation,” I reminded him.

“I was worried about you. So sue me.”

“Go and sit. I’ll bring the coffee as soon as it’s ready,” I said. He shrugged his shoulders and turned around into the living room.

No doubt about it, I thought. The man was sweet. Very sweet. And you, Kathleen, are very vulnerable. You’re feeling sad because of Evelyn’s death, I lectured myself. Jay’s a friend. A good friend. Good friends give you a shoulder to cry on. They even hold you to make you feel better. I was good at this. I was
very
convincing.

I held the two coffee cups in one hand and scooped up a couple of coasters from my desk before placing the cups on the coffee table. Holding two hot cups in one hand is no mean feat, but one of my many hidden talents I learned over the years serving coffee to executives.

Jay was sitting in the corner of the sofa with his long legs up on the coffee table. I sat at the other end of the couch and lit a cigarette. The silence was overwhelming.

“So. Another busy Friday night for you too?” I joked.

Jay put his feet on the floor and leaned over to take a sip of his coffee. He carefully put the cup on the coaster and looked over at me. He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times before he answered.

“Kathleen, do you have to joke about everything?” I noticed his use of my proper name. Things were getting serious.

“Jay, I save my humour for those close to me.”