What’s Not True: A Novel Page 5

  “We’re just going to cruise the Seine tonight. You’re fine the way you are. Not sure you’ll even need a jacket. It’s pretty warm.”

  “What?” Kassie whipped around. “You didn’t tell me—”

  “Ever hear of surprises? I gather it’s one of the best ways to see the fireworks. Isn’t that why we came here? To see the fireworks?”

  Is that why we’re here? Fireworks? She’d thought it was to light a fire under their love. Not from where they left off, but from a new starting place. Was she foolish to think his insistence on coming to Paris would mean anything other than that? Maybe she’d read him wrong.

  Still, Kassie wondered if she’d ever get used to Chris’s surprises. Showing up in Venice, now the cruise. Throughout most of their affair, gifts or surprises were mostly off-limits. They’d be too difficult to cover up with Mike. That changed when he gave her the gondola necklace, which she hoped he hadn’t noticed she wasn’t wearing.

  “Come with me. We need to talk.” Kassie took Chris by the hand and with a slight shove directed him to sit in the Queen Anne chair.

  He stumbled into the chair, and his eyes twinkled. She didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know what was on his mind. She had other ideas. Unless they were prone in bed, this was the only way she could look him eye-to-eye. She leaned on both arms of the chair, her nose leading the way.

  “Listen. I’m okay with the fireworks. But this, all this, is Annie’s fault, and yours too.” She tapped him on his chest. Probably instinctively, he grabbed her wrist.

  She pulled away, ranting and pacing and shaking her finger at him. No way was she supposed to be in Paris with him or to be meeting with the managing director of the Paris office. None of this was in her plans. It wasn’t what she had worked so hard for over the past year.

  “You don’t know what I’ve gone through.” Kassie raised her voice, flailing her hands in the air. “While you were off becoming a partner in Mike’s firm, moving from San Francisco, making nice with your new mother, probably dating, for all I know . . . .”

  “Sounds like you’re losing your superpowers, KO. Three out of four ain’t bad.” Chris got up from the chair, poured himself another glass of wine, and sat back down. He was right; she wasn’t done.

  “Whatever.” Kassie ranted on and gave him a pass for the moment. “I haven’t moved on quite the way you have. While you built a new life, I unbundled my thirty-year marriage and resurrected a career some people assumed I had put on the back burner. You know I’ve been pitching Tom about making me a partner after twenty years’ sweat and blood. No one’s built that business like I have. But no such luck with that.” Stopping, she took a deep breath. “And I’m still living at Annie’s with Topher.”

  “Speaking of, how is my namesake?”

  Kassie shook her head and warned him not to change the subject. What did he mean three out of four? And why didn’t he jump to deny her dating accusation?

  “I feel like I’ve been marching in place since we—”

  “Broke up?” Chris said, pulling her onto his lap. “Me too.”

  Chris nibbled at her neck and held her close as if she was a toddler needing to be calmed. She kissed him softly first and then with purpose. French-like, of course.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Kassie said.

  “Was there a question in all your railing?”

  “Have you been dating? Is there someone else?”

  “What do you think? Venice was no coincidence. Paris is no one-week stand.”

  Chris had left the door to the terrace open. Five flights up, the sound of revelers gearing up for a night of Bastille Day celebration confirmed they weren’t in Boston, or Venice, and interrupted Kassie’s inquisition and Chris’s chance at defense.

  “Let’s move along. Your cruise boat awaits, my lady.”

  They walked to the boat dock swinging hand in hand as if they were in high school. That scenario would’ve been impossible given the ten-year difference in their ages. Shrugging off that thought, Kassie’s busy mind wrestled with three competing problems—readying herself for a meeting she was ill-prepared for, not having Paris-appropriate clothes either for the meeting or for a week with the sexiest man alive, or finding out who and when Chris had been dating in her absence.

  Once they checked in for their cruise, they were escorted to a VIP section of the dining room near a window.

  “Monsieur et Mademoiselle.”

  Kassie rolled her eyes; Chris grinned from one ear to the other.

  “See, you don’t look like a madame,” Chris whispered.

  A cozy table for two, decked out with a white tablecloth and fine bone china, awaited them. Two empty champagne glasses called their name.

  “Kir royale?” the waiter suggested, removing the long-stemmed glasses.

  “Oui.”

  “Actually, make mine a Cosmopolitan. I’m on a mission to taste-test cosmos every place we go this week.”

  Kassie picked up her empty water glass, tilting it back and forth. “Wow. How’d you arrange this?”

  “You’re not the only one with connections in Paris.” Chris took Kassie’s hand and squeezed it as they reviewed the special gourmet menu for Bastille Day.

  The boat disembarked precisely at 20:30 hours, a.k.a. 8:30 p.m., and Kassie and Chris lifted their cocktail glasses to the finer things in life. A violin and piano played dinner music courteously in the background.

  Kassie laughed. “No jazz here tonight, I gather. Where’s Ryan Gosling when we need him?”

  “If you’d like to go to a jazz club, I’m sure I could find one.”

  “No, silly. Just remembering a scene from La La Land.”

  “Really? I thought you’d be thinking about our first boat ride. The gondola in Venice.”

  Out of habit, Kassie reached for the necklace. There was nothing she could do to make it appear out of nowhere. It sat in a purple box in her bedroom at Annie’s house.

  “I think about that ride and our time in Venice every day of my life.”

  “Is that right? You’re not wearing your necklace. There was a time you said you’d never take it off.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “You left me.”

  “Left you? You left me, as I recall.”

  The waiter appeared and took their order. She’d have the fish; he’d have the lamb chops. And she’d switch to champagne, s’il vous plaît. Keep it coming. Sounds like I’m going to need it.

  The mood at the table shifted from happy and expectant to cranky and rejected. A momentary break in their conversation allowed Kassie the opportunity to decide whether or not she’d go down the road they’d traveled before Paris. At some point they’d have to address why they’d broken up and how they’d been living their lives over the last year. Was this the best time?

  “Pain,” Kassie started, gazing out the window. “Wearing the necklace made me sad. It represented not only the past but also the future I thought we’d have but didn’t.” She returned her eyes to his. “I believed over time thinking of you and what might have been would shred every fabric of my heart and soul and kill me. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  For what?

  Interrupted by the clanging of dinner plates and Chris complimenting the waiter in perfect French, Kassie put the need to follow up on ice. They enjoyed the meal with minimal fanfare. There was enough razzle-dazzle distracting them.

  The Seine was beautiful, though not as quiet and serene as it normally would be. As they cruised through the heart of Paris, the lights of the city reflected off the river in perfect vertical lines, as if they were counting the days that were left on their trip. The other boats crossed the lights, creating glowing hashtags on the river.

  “Good thing we’re here and not up there,” Chris said, motioning to the crowd gathered on Pont Neuf bridge. “I’d like to take you there later in the week.”

  As they drew closer to the Eiffel Tower, th
e soothing violin and piano melodies that played on board faded and were replaced by classical music from a concert along the shore. More relaxed, Kassie swayed in her chair. Chris moved alongside her and draped his arm around her shoulder. He rested his hand on her upper thigh. The moment was surprisingly more intimate than she figured it could be with other diners around. Maybe they were having their own special moment as well. After all, it was Paris. She turned to kiss him.

  “I love you, Kassie. I always have, and always will. No matter what happens.”

  Kassie just about jumped into the Seine. Fireworks burst into the dark Parisian sky.

  Oohs and aahs echoed throughout the boat. For about thirty minutes, they were willing captives in a multicolored, multidimensional world, marveling at a dazzling display that could rival Boston’s, or even New York City’s, Fourth of July celebration. A world that, though spectacular, was fleeting.

  Kassie wondered whether the reunion with Chris was as well.

  All that was left of the fireworks was light gray smoke drifting eerily down the night sky. So what next? There seemed to be more people swarming the streets on the walk back to their hotel than there were on the way to the boat. Kassie clutched Chris’s hand more out of fear of being separated than of affection. What would she do if she’d lost him? Did she remember the name and address of the hotel? Lord only knew she wouldn’t be able to pronounce it. She should’ve taken a matchbook or napkin or business card, or something.

  Back in their room again, out of breath from trudging up the stairs, Kassie dumped her purse on the carpet and sat cross-legged in a huff.

  “I don’t have any business cards,” she said, throwing her wallet, tissue, sunglasses, pen and mini travel notebook, passport, and pink Post-it notes back in her bag.

  “So?”

  “You ever hear of business etiquette? We’re in a foreign country, for crying out loud. I’ll be meeting with the head of the company. And I have no cards. She’ll think of me as unprofessional, classless, which of course, I am not. Mercy buckets.”

  Chris laughed at her. “Don’t you think she’ll give you some slack? After all, you’re on vacation and didn’t even expect to be in Paris, let alone meet with her.” Chris stripped off his clothes faster than a Chippendale at a local dive bar.

  Kassie gawked at him. “Excuse me? Just like that. Drop everything and go at it? What a difference a year makes. What have you done with my young lover?” She looked to the ceiling.

  “Your stud needs a shower, if you don’t mind.” Chris moved toward the bathroom, reaching down and squeezing her shoulder as he passed. “You’ve met Mimi before, right?”

  “Once a few years ago. At a joint planning conference. She seemed nice. Doubt she’ll even remember me.”

  “How’s that possible? You are unforgettable. You’ll see.”

  Kassie undressed, assessing what she should toss in the dirty clothes bag and whether or not her slacks and shirt were salvageable. She grimaced, giving up on everything she’d worn that day. Rifling through her suitcase as she had earlier in the evening, she realized not only did she have nothing professional to wear on Tuesday, but she had nothing sexy for Chris. Even her lingerie was white and middle-aged, like her.

  A short deep blue silk robe would have to do double duty—cover her when needed and seduce Chris when the mood suited her. She had to do something to make their first night in Paris unforgettable. There must be music. She scanned the music on her iPhone, confident she hadn’t deleted their favorites. Managing the content on her devices was not one of her virtues.

  She searched her purse for a small travel-size vial of perfume. It had to be there somewhere. Once on a trip, a spray bottle she’d stored in her cosmetics bag had exploded and damaged her clothes, forcing her to shop in a strange, unfamiliar city. She learned from her mistake, about the perfume anyway. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kassie found the vial sealed in a plastic snack-size bag, tucked safely in a zippered pouch.

  Rolling the scent along her neck and under her breast, Kassie was comforted that she still wore Chris’s favorite vanilla scent. The necklace might sit in a box across the ocean, but she held in her hand one key to turning Chris on.

  Her eyes caught the passport in her purse. How long ago was that conference when she’d met Mimi anyway? Five years ago according to the Paris stamp in her passport.

  Ah yes. Mimi was pregnant then. How could she forget? Kassie couldn’t take her eyes off of her during the meeting. Mimi was showing. Probably six months pregnant. Could she feel the baby moving? It wasn’t fair. That joy would never happen to her. Mike had made sure of that at a time she could’ve conceived. Now the years outlived a dream, a wish she kept tucked in her heart. She wondered if she’d ever stop envying pregnant women.

  Chris’s gold Rolex sparkled on a small round marble table near the Queen Anne chair. Picking it up to check the time, she saw his passport. Probably a good idea to keep them together. As she put hers there, she realized she’d never looked at his before. She opened it. Christopher Charles Gaines. How is it she never knew his middle name? What else didn’t she know about him?

  She flipped the pages of country stamps and stopped. Two pages before Venice had inked impressions she didn’t recognize. She looked closely. Entry and exit stamps for Athens, Greece. Last March. What was he doing in Athens? How come he hadn’t mentioned it to her?

  “Whatcha doing?” Chris appeared with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Waiting for you.” She slid his passport under hers and picked up her phone, clicking on Barry White. She took his hand and led him to the chair. This time she had no intention of lecturing him. “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe” pulsed through the room. Kassie moved with the music, her hands exploring her own body, her tongue exploring his.

  Chris carried her to the bed, peeled off her robe, and as Barry sang “You’re the First, the Last, My Everything,” images she had of the Acropolis vanished.

  7

  Taking Care of Business

  Before opening his eyes that Saturday morning, Mike rubbed his chest. His T-shirt was damp and so were the sheets, again. He made a mental note to tell his doctor about this at his next appointment, whenever that was; he couldn’t remember. Where was Kassie when he needed her?

  He opened one eye and quickly shut it. He lifted both eyelids and gasped. He didn’t recognize the woman sleeping next to him. Maybe he’d died and gone to heaven or was dreaming. Visions of Goldilocks and Snow White swept through his mind. But that didn’t compute. The black spaghetti-strapped woman next to him had sleek red hair and was breathing.

  He sighed. He’d forgotten. Karen. Once a blonde. Now a redhead. Whatever for? Who was she trying to impress? Surely not him. From where he sat, or lay, she’d already gotten what she wanted. After it was determined they were a match and the surgeries scheduled, he agreed to marry her after his divorce from Kassie, but never officially proposed.

  On more than one occasion, he tried to convince her they could live happily ever after without a marriage license. She’d have none of it, arguing their kidneys matching was proof they belonged together. With her parents and first husband deceased, no one stood in their way. Marriage would fulfill their college dreams, and it would be good for Chris to have his parents married.

  “He’s in his forties, a grown man for Chrissakes! He’s had loving parents all his life. And now that he knows who his real mother and father are, the circle’s been closed. For him that should be enough. For me it is. It should be for you too.”

  But apparently it wasn’t enough for Karen. Mike recalled how she shrugged off his counterargument.

  “I can take care of you for the rest of your life,” Karen said, as she massaged an area below her belly button where she wore the surgical scar like a badge of entitlement.

  He figured she had a point. He was alive because of her. Because of her kidney. Granting her wish was the least he could do. And to be perfectly honest, living out the rest of his life al
one was not the future Mike saw for himself.

  But Karen wasn’t Kassie, and he couldn’t expect Karen to replace her. Despite their relationship going completely south over the last six years or so, he’d grown comfortable with Kassie. And dependent on her. She was like a Duracell battery, or maybe it was a Timex watch. Whatever. She kept the marriage ticking through thick or thin, allowing him to do his own thing, whenever and whatever that was.

  Whether it was when he started the business or branched out and expanded it, Kassie supported him and didn’t interfere. Smart, savvy, and spunky, Kassie became successful in her own right, right in front of his eyes. An intelligent, independent, ambitious woman. He figured many men would’ve swapped places with him in an instant.

  Mike wasn’t surprised Chris was attracted to her. Looking back, he could kick himself for being the worse part of for-better-or-for-worse. For lying about Karen and about having a son. Oh, and the vasectomy. He’d never forget her reaction to that revelation. The straw that broke the marriage, or any possibility for reconciliation, for good.

  His kidney disease and the divorce forced him to admit he’d been a shit all their years together. He took all that Kassie had done for him for granted and never gave her the credit and attention she deserved. If he had been a better man, perhaps he would’ve happily joined her on that trip to Italy six years ago, and there would’ve been no Chris in the picture. Of course, that would’ve meant he would’ve had to chart a different path to finding a donor. Too late now. Mike rationalized he made his past a prologue for whatever was to come.

  Over the last year, what-ifs crept easily into Mike’s thoughts, perhaps driven by the prospect of his demise or the finality of the end of his marriage. To say he had doubts about the path he’d chosen would be a gross understatement. He’d found it impossible to get Kassie off his mind and had sunk into an impractical habit of comparing the wife he was losing with the one he’d be gaining.

  Take selflessness: Kassie one point, Karen almost zero. Their reactions to his chronic kidney disease were a perfect example. Though she was ready to leave him for Chris, Kassie put that on the back burner and hung in there with him, making sure he got to his doctors’ appointments, ate the right foods, took his meds. And then she made the ultimate sacrifice: When she discovered the Mike-Karen-Chris connection, she gave up her relationship with Chris forever, introduced Mike to his son, who could’ve been a donor but wasn’t, and then arranged for him and Karen to reunite. After all that, their divorce was inevitable. Yet, if it weren’t for Kassie, he could’ve been dead and buried instead of lying next to a redhead. Kassie didn’t have to put his needs ahead of her happiness. But she did. He’d be indebted to her forever.