ability for psychology, she probably would have been a professional artist, and a good one. She was standing with a glass of white wine in her hand studying her latest canvas, when Kate let herself in with her key, found her mother, and gave her a hug.
“That’s a nice one, Mom,” Kate said. Her mother’s work had a haunting quality to it, and an interesting tension. She painted every day now. And when she was willing to part with her paintings, a gallery downtown sold her work. Margaret painted for the love of it, not the money. She had worked hard, invested her money sensibly, and her late husband had left her more than comfortable. She could enjoy the fruits of their work now.
“Thank you. I’ve had a strange urge to do something more contemporary. I’ve never done that before, but I think I’m ready for something different.” Margaret smiled at her daughter. Their looks were very similar, except that Margaret had had red hair instead of blond. It had faded to a pale strawberry blond now. Like Kate, she had youthful looks and a well-toned athletic body. She went to yoga twice a week. She didn’t look her age, and her thoughts were often more modern and flexible than her daughter’s. She read voraciously, and was always open to new ideas.
Kate had definite ideas about how things should be done. She was a hard taskmaster with herself, and sometimes with others. A perfectionist. Her mother was comfortable letting things flow more gently. Margaret’s willingness to consider other options and explore different concepts kept her especially close and in tune with her grandchildren. She had been there as a sounding board and a safety net as they were growing up without a father. Margaret brought balance to all their lives, and her training as a psychologist and therapist had been helpful to them all after Tom’s death. Kate had leaned on her heavily then too, not sure how she would survive it in the first extremely painful months. It was Margaret who had encouraged her to go to law school. She had always wanted to, and with Tom gone, and some help with the kids, Kate had the chance. It had been the best advice anyone had ever given her.
“How are things at the office?” Margaret asked, smiling at her daughter, as she perched on a high stool in paint splattered jeans and an old shirt that Kate could tell from the initials had been her father’s. It was battered and well-worn now, unlike the pristine state it must have been in when her father wore it. Her father had been a banker, the head of one of New York’s oldest banks. In contrast to his wife’s modern outlook on life, he had been very old school, an old-fashioned gentleman, in love with his wife until his last breath. Theirs had been a happy, stable home, an example Kate had tried to follow with her own kids.
Margaret had saved a stack of his elegant shirts when her husband died. She loved wearing them when she painted. Kate’s father had passed away ten years before, nine years after Tom had. They were both widows now, which was another common bond.
Kate’s parents had had a remarkable marriage, and her mother’s love for her husband had continued long after he was gone. It was he who had encouraged her to get her PhD in psychology after Kate started school, and later to establish her own practice, which had been a rewarding career for her for more than forty years.
Margaret had never looked at another man and always said she didn’t want to, although she was still very attractive. Kate had had her share of romances after Tom died, though none of them were ever serious. She kept the men she dated separate from her children. None of the men had ever tempted Kate enough to want to marry them. She had never given her heart since Tom, and didn’t want to be married again. She enjoyed male companionship, but she had learned how painful it was when it ended, and the acute agony of losing someone she loved. She had no desire to get too deeply involved. She and her mother had discussed it at length. Margaret understood why she felt the way she did, but was sorry Kate had chosen not to risk her heart again.
For the past six years, Kate had dated a senator from Massachusetts. He was