Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

"Morbid curiosity."

"Funny."

"I'm not laughing."

For a moment she sat frozen, then a ghost of a smile touched her mouth. "You always were brutally honest."

"I'm thirsty," he said, standing. "You want anything?"

"A coffee refill. Thanks."

He went to the counter, got Kate's coffee and a Coke for himself, then returned to the table. She had burped her baby and was carefully transferring the now sleeping infant to the car carrier. That done, she snapped the child's harness into place, then tucked a soft-looking blanket around her.

"She's beautiful," he said, setting the drinks on the table. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Kate's lips lifted. "Her name's Emma."

"Motherhood suits you." Though he said the words easily, he felt like he would choke on them, they were so bitter, so grudging. "Richard must be…pleased." More like, so puffed up with pride he resembled one of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloons.

She hesitated. "Of course he is."

"In that chatty Christmas letter you sent, you didn't mention being pregnant." "I wasn't." She paused. "Emma's adopted." The words landed between them, begging an explanation, begging for him to ask what had led her and Richard to adoption. Instead, he looked her dead in the eyes. "What do you want, Kate?"

"To see you. Is that so strange? We were once the best of friends." "Years ago. A lifetime ago. We're not a part of each other's world anymore." "I know. I-" She bit the words off and fussed with her baby a moment, smoothing and retucking the blanket.

Then she met his gaze once more. "I regret that. I miss you, Luke. I miss our friendship."

He felt her words like a kick to his gut. "Stop it, Kate."

"It's true. You don't know. You-" She drew in a deep, shaky breath. "I wanted to see you. I wanted to try to make you understand how it was. What happened."

"I know what happened. I was there, Kate." He flexed his fingers, furious suddenly. So angry he shook. "Or have you forgotten?"

She swallowed hard but didn't look away. "I haven't forgotten anything, Luke. Not one moment."

Her words stung. As did the rush of hope. He hated that she could still affect him this way, after all these years.

"What are you telling me?" he asked, his voice hard, insulting. "Richard's not enough anymore? That you need a good screw with somebody else?" He leaned toward her, shaking with anger. "That you feel like repeating the past?"

She recoiled at his words, her expression wounded. "You know better than that. You know me better than that."

"Do I?"

"I'm sorry, Luke. I'm sorry I hurt you." Her eyes flooded with tears. "I'm sorry I killed our friendship."

"I'm sorry, too." He stood. "But you did. And it's too late to go back."

"Wait! Please!" She caught his hand. "That night…when we were together…it wasn't a ruse. I was devastated. Richard had broken up with me again. I'd vowed it would be for the last time. I'd vowed that I wouldn't take him back, not again, no matter how many flowers he sent. We were through, I believed that. I turned to you because-"

"You used me. To make Richard jealous. To get back at him for the blonde. The many blondes." He shook off her hand. "Well, it worked. I hope you're happy with the life you angled for."

"That's not true! None of it." She lifted her face to his. "Please, Luke, just hear me out."

Emma stirred and released a small, whimpering cry. Luke sank back to the booth and nodded tersely. "Say your piece, but do it quick."

"The next morning, Richard came to see me. The way he always did, tail tucked between his legs. I told him we were through, that I'd had enough. He begged me to forgive him, Luke. Begged me. And he cried. He loved me, he said. He wanted to marry me. He wanted us to be together forever."

"And you crumbled?" Luke snapped his fingers. "Just like that?"

"I loved him, had loved him for years. Marrying him was what I'd dreamed of for so long. How could I not forgive him?"

"How?" The word roared past Luke's lips. "By remembering where you'd spent the night before. By remembering the promises you made to me."

"I didn't make you any promises. I-"

"That's bullshit, Kate. You slept with me. That meant something. To a girl like you, it meant something. We talked about Richard. The past, our future."

"I'm sorry." She clasped her hands together. "If I could take that night back, I would. Don't you know how often I've wished I could? I wasn't thinking clearly-I acted irresponsibly. I hurt you, our friendship. Richard."

Luke made a sound of fury. "Don't tell me how you hurt Richard. Did it ever occur to you that Richard knew where you were that night? That he knew about us? Didn't you ever wonder why he asked you to marry him that morning?"

"What are you saying? That Richard proposed to me to spite you? To beat you?"

"Think about it. Richard was obsessed with winning. He couldn't bear to lose, not ever. But particularly to me."

"No." Kate shook her head, the color draining from her face. "That's not the way it was. He proposed because he loved me. Because, just like he said, he didn't want to… to…"

Her words trailed off; Luke smiled. "He didn't want to lose you. Isn't that what you had been about to say?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Think back to the times Richard and I almost came to blows over things as inconsequential as tennis matches or hands of poker-to the competition over grades. He was not about to be bested by me, poor scholarship student, worthless dreamer. I know how he laughed about my dreams of being a novelist." Luke leaned across the table, eyes narrowed. "Who's laughing now?"

"It's not true," she whispered, eyes bright with tears. "That's the way you might have felt, but not Richard."

"How can you look me in the eye and lie this way?"

"He's my husband. We have a good marriage. A happy one. Marrying me had nothing to do with some adolescent competition with you."

"Whatever gets you through the night, babe."

This time it was Kate who stood, who prepared to leave. And Luke who grabbed her hand, stopping her. He looked her dead in the eyes. "And what about you, Kate? Did you say yes to Richard because you loved him? Or because you loved the cushy future you would have with him?"

"Let me go."

"Not until you answer me."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You wanted honesty, sweetheart. You wanted to dredge up the past. Well, here it is, in all its glory."

For a moment she simply stared at him. In her eyes he saw her hurt, that he had wounded her deeply. He felt a moment of regret. In that moment he wished he could take it back, all of it, every word.

Then he reminded himself of the way she had used him, and he firmed his resolve. He dropped his hand. "See, sometimes the past is better left alone."

"Yes," she whispered, "I do see now. I won't trouble you again." She collected her things, then lifted her baby carrier. She met his eyes once more. "You never used to be mean, Luke. You are now. I'm sorry about that."

"Haven't you heard? Nice guys finish last."

"You were never last in my book, Luke. Never. "

And then she walked away, out of his life, head held high. Luke watched her go, ignoring the feeling of loss that settled over him, the urge to chase after her.

Kate Ryan was now a permanent part of his past.

Late that afternoon, exhausted and heartsick, Kate arrived home. Richard was still out, thank goodness. She didn't know what she was going to say to him about today, about her meeting with Luke.

She sighed and dropped her keys onto the entryway table, shifting her sleeping daughter in her arms. Richard had assumed she was going into The Bean; she hadn't told him otherwise. If he had known about her plans, he would have been angry and jealous, he would have insisted she not go.