Read The Hole in the Middle Online
Authors: Kate Hilton
“OK,” I say.
“OK, what?”
“I accept your explanation. And I accept your apology. We can stop talking about it now.”
“Excellent,” says Will. “Because I find these conversations very awkward.”
“I've got one more awkward conversation in my arsenal tonight,” I say. “But don't worryâit's not for you.”
“Lucky me,” he says, and spins me around. Now that we're both more relaxed, he pulls me a bit closer. And because it's dark in this corner of the dance floor, I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I let myself remember how it felt to love him, and the terrible hole it left when I knew he would never love me back. But I remember other things too: who healed me; who offered me friendship and understanding; and later, when he
knew I was ready, love, who assembled IKEA furniture for our first apartment; who let my mother plan our wedding down to the last Martha Stewart bow; who told me I was beautiful when I was nine months pregnant and wild with hormones; who gave my sons their warm brown eyesâand I know that I don't regret Paris. In the end, I don't regret Paris at all.
The song ends, and we step apart. “It's good to have you back in my life, Will,” I say. “I missed you.”
Will gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks,” he says. “Me too.”
I find Lil and Jesse off in a quiet corner of the room. “What are you two plotting?” I ask.
“No plotting,” says Lil. “Jesse was just telling me about his consulting practice. Isn't he clever?”
“He is,” I say, dispatching him in search of drinks. Six months after dismantling his business with Anya, Jesse is scrambling to keep up with the demand for his consulting services. He's wary about expanding too quickly, but he's decided to hire a couple of employees. “He's amazing.”
“He always was,” says Lil. “So, are you enjoying your party? I know you think you hate surprises, but you don't, not really. Remember how much fun we had in Paris?”
“Actually, that trip's been on my mind lately,” I say. “And I wanted to ask you a question about it.”
Lil looks wary. “Yes?”
“Why didn't Will come to Paris? I think you know. I want you to tell me.”
She regards me evenly for a moment, and then says, “He didn't come to Paris because I offered him a rental house on Mykonos.”
“Why?” I ask. It's strange to feel so calm, knowing that Lil saw my heart so clearly and still thwarted its desire. I should be furious at her betrayal, but I'm more curious than angry. “Didn't you think I was good enough for him?”
She shakes her head. “You know me better than that,” she says. “I thought you were far too good for him, and I still do.”
“Do you always get what you want?” I ask, and there's an edge in my voice that isn't entirely nice.
“No,” she says, sharply. “I don't. If I did, I'd have what you have.” Her tone softens. “You never noticed the way Jesse looked at you back then. That party in Paris was his idea, you know. Even knowing that you were hoping to meet Will, he still flew across an ocean for you. So I gave Will a choice, which he made of his own free will, and I gave Jesse a chance to prove that he was the one who deserved you all along. I have regrets, Sophie, but that isn't one of them.”
I blink back unexpected tears, reach for her hand, and squeeze, and see the relief pass across her face. And I think of all the gifts Lil has given me over the yearsâclothes and fancy dinners and hotel rooms in Paris, to be sure, but also joy and fellowship and an interest in the minutiae of my existence that can only spring from love.
Lil's interest in me has always been a puzzle, but I've never doubted her affection or loyalty. Maybe, as she once told me, I remind her of her younger self. Maybe I'm the daughter she never had. With love, it's not the why that matters. It's the how. It's the millions of ways we reach out and connect with the people we love and try to make them happy and protect them from harm. All of Lil's gifts to me have been expressions of love, but now I see, more than ever before, that my life with Jesse is a gift too.
“I never thanked you properly for bringing me over to the foundation,” I say. “I love it.”
“That makes me very happy,” she says. “Now, stop wasting your time with old people, and go have fun at your party.”
“You'll never be old,” I say.
She touches my cheek. “Not if I can help it,” she says. “Embrace the present. Release the past. That's the secret.” She looks over my shoulder. “I see your date coming back with your drink,” she says. “Why don't the two of you go and have a dance?”
Jesse holds me close and we shuffle in a slow circle as the Legwarmers belt out a few classic rock ballads.
“Chelsea's band is pretty amazing,” I say.
“It is,” he says. “Lil knows how to pick them.”
“She was certainly right about you,” I say, and I step back so that I can see his face. “I know what the favor was, Jesse. I know what Lil did for you. I know about Paris.”
Other couples swirl around us but we don't move. When he speaks, his words come out in a rush. “I'm so sorry, Sophie,” he says. “I should have told you a long time ago. I convinced myself that it didn't matter, that we hadn't taken away a real choice from you, but since Will came back . . . I wonder now. I may have misjudged him then. I didn't think he was serious about you, and I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anything before or since, so I felt justified. But maybe he was serious. How could he not have been? How could he not have wanted to spend the rest of his life with you?”
I hold him close, and when I rest my cheek on his chest, it feels like home.
“Good birthday?” he asks.
“As good as forty could possibly be,” I say. “I'm shooting for less drama now that I've officially crossed over.”
He laughs. “No argument here,” he says.
“I put you through a lot,” I say. “I'm sorry.”
“Sophie,” he says, “it's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me. I'm in this for the long haul.”
“I never loved him the way I love you,” I say.
“I know,” he says. “I was just waiting for you to figure it out.”
The room recedes as we complete another circle in time to the music. And then I look up at him and say, “You wanted me to tell you when.”
“When what?” he asks.
“When you could stop looking over your shoulder,” I say.
I reach up and put a hand on either side of his face and pull him down for a long, sweet kiss.
“Now,” I tell him.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel all the parts of my life knit together into a whole. And for one perfect moment, I think I know what it means to have it
all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is quite something to be in a position to acknowledge people in the back of your very own book. It feels more than a little bit miraculous. And so I am endlessly, eternally grateful to:
My editors, Claire Zion in the United States and Jennifer Lambert in Canada, for falling in love with Sophie Whelan and cheering her all the way to the finish line.
My agent and friend, Beverley Slopen, for her breathtaking tenacity and her unwavering support of my work.
My early readers and supporters, including Sara Angel, Alexis Archbold, Amy Ballon, Danielle Botterell, Sarah Brohman, Melissa Bubb-Clarke, Marie Budworth, Marie Campbell, Kirby Chown, Sari Diamond, Brenda Doig, Todd Ducharme, Leah Eichler, Bronwen Evans, Sara Faherty, Rivi Frankle, Deborah Glatter, Bonnie Goldberg, Melanie Gruer, Lily Harmer, Ana Maria Hobrough, Martha Hundert, Tamara Jordan, Reva Katz, Jane Kidner, Judith Lavin, Susan Lee, Suzanne Lewis, Leena Malik, Judith McCormack, Mayo Moran, Stacia Morris, Heather Morrison, Molly Naber-Sykes, Amreen Omar, Susy Opler, Kerry Owen, Ira Parghi, Beth Parker, Lesley Parrott, Laurie Pawlitza, Nancy Reid, Patricia Smith, Jenny Thompson, Brianna Caryll Valihora and Maureen Whelton, for sharing thoughtful suggestions that made the book so much better and for making me a believer in the power of the social network.
My writer friends, including Heather A. Clark, Jon Evans, Chantel Guertin, Guy Gavriel Kay, Andrew Pyper, Roberta Rich, Jennifer Robson,
Reva Seth and Marissa Stapley, for their wise counsel on writing matters great and small.
My tennis ladies, for keeping my sanity intact.
My first family, the HiltonsâMargo and Jim and Anne and Betsyâfor being a home to come back to.
And my children, Jack and Charlie, for being the whole point.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
The Hole in the Middle
is
Kate Hilton
's first novel. Before turning to fiction, Kate worked in law, higher education, public relations and major gift fund-raising. She has an English degree from McGill University and a law degree from the University of Toronto. She is a working mother, a community volunteer, a voracious reader and a pretty decent cook. On good days, she thinks she might have it all. On bad days, she wants a nap. Kate lives with her family in Toronto.