it would be to meet people.”
“It must be,” Kit says. “I made all my friends here while I was married, and most of them through the children. We’d meet at the playground, or in playgroups, in preschool. I can’t even imagine how hard it must be.”
“It is, but I like that I’m working out here, rather than in Manhattan. It’s beginning to feel more like home, the more familiar it becomes, and that would never happen if I were getting on a train every morning and coming back late at night.”
“That’s what my husband did,” Kit says and laughs. “As soon as we divorced he started spending more and more time in the city. I’m not sure he ever thought of Highfield as home, but he has to be here now when he has the kids.”
Steve looks at her intently. “It must have been lonely, when you were married, with your husband gone all the time.”
Kit smiles ruefully. “It was, and it wasn’t. It was in the beginning, of course, and then I got used to it, and resented him for coming home and trying to take charge, when he hadn’t been there all week and had no idea how anything was run.”
“So the moral of the story is, if I fall in love with you, I’d better make damn sure not to get a job in New York City? ” Steve laughs, and Kit finds herself blushing furiously, not knowing what to say, where to look.
Did he really just say that, she thinks. And should I be pleased? Or scared?
By the time they have shared a melted-chocolate pudding, Kit is neither pleased nor scared. She is relaxed and happy, and—wonder of wonders—allowing herself to be gently flirted with, and flirting a little in return.
Alice comes over and says hello, then turns, so that Steve cannot see her, and winks at Kit, giving her a swoony look as she places her hand over her heart. Alice thinks he is handsome too, thinks Kit. And he is with me!
Weaving through the restaurant out to her car, Kit stops several times to say quick hellos to people she knows. “This is Steve,” she says proudly, noticing how all the women look at him appraisingly, appreciatively.
“You look great!” people tell her and, for once, she believes them. She feels great tonight. She had forgotten what it was like to feel like this.
In the car park, Steve walks her to her car, and suddenly she feels slightly nauseated with nerves. Is he going to kiss her? Is she ready for this? Part of her wants him to, has spent the better part of this evening trying not to gaze at his lips, trying not to imagine what it would feel like, but she has not kissed anyone other than Adam for almost twenty years.
She is not ready for it.
“Can I call you? ” Steve says, holding the door of her car open as she climbs in.
“I’d like that,” she says.
He leans down and kisses her on the cheek.
“Thank you for a great night,” he says, gently closing the door.
Kit drives off smiling, and smiles all the way home. It couldn’t have been more perfect if she had scripted it herself.
“Hello? ” The lights are blazing and there is the sound of laughter from the kitchen. Male laughter. Is she imagining it? “Edie? Tory? ”
Edie and Tory both look up, as does Adam. They are sitting around the kitchen table playing Life.
“Oh.” Kit is stunned to see Adam there. Looking so comfortable in her home. She is not annoyed, but surprised. Not sure how she should react.
“Dad called,” Tory is keen to explain. “And when I said you were out he asked if he could come over. Is that okay? ” she adds quickly.
Kit rearranges her features. “Of course it is,” she lies. For on one hand, it is. This is the father of her children: there is a part of her that always wants him to be welcomed, that wants them to be able to co-parent effectively; but there is a part of her that wants to say no. Wants to shut him out altogether so she can move on, not have these moments when she has flashes of times they were happy, times when they were a family, a family that worked.
And more, she wants to have been asked permission. Wants to have been given an opportunity to say no. For this is what Adam always did: take charge. It is not his