At Any Price. Margaret Allison
focused on the doors as they shut.
This was a mistake, said the voice in her head. I can’t even make small talk with him anymore. How can I ask him for a million dollars?
“So,” he said finally, “what business brings you to town?”
“Meetings with advertisers,” she said, the lie just popping out of her mouth. The doors opened and several people came inside. All nodded and said hello to Jack.
“How is the paper doing?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said, staring straight ahead. It wasn’t exactly a lie. The reporting had never been stronger. It was the circulation that was suffering.
The elevator stopped at another floor and several more people crowded in, pushing her and Jack to the back. They were so close, their arms touching, she could smell his musky scent. She closed her eyes. For a moment she was back at the creek and Jack was on top of her, his hand caressing her breast. She could feel his tongue inside her mouth….
“Here we are,” Jack said as the door opened. He put his hand on her back as he steered her out of the elevator. “I’m not sure what you had planned, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time. There’s a little Italian restaurant down the street, if that’s all right with you.”
Katie agreed. She was glad she didn’t have the responsibility of picking a restaurant in a city she knew little about. They walked down the street without talking. Jack led her to a small gray building with red shutters. “This is it,” he said.
They walked in and were greeted effusively by the manager, who seemed to know Jack very well. He showed them to a cozy booth in the corner. As they perused the menu, Jack said, “The chicken piccata is very good.”
But Katie preferred more basic food. “How’s the spaghetti and meatballs?”
“Some of the best in the city,” he said. “That’s what I’m getting.”
“Me, too,” she said, setting down her menu. As the waiter approached, Katie wondered if conversation with her old friend was doomed to be shallow and superficial. Perhaps they no longer had anything in common but their choice of entrée.
“So,” Jack said, after they had ordered, “how is everything in Newport Falls?”
“Fine,” she said.
“I was so sorry to hear about your mom, Katie. She was a great person.”
She wasn’t expecting him to mention her mother, who had died nearly ten years ago. She had adored both Jack and Matt, and had long predicted Katie would marry one of them. When she found out she had a fatal illness, she encouraged Katie to marry quickly, so that she could attend her wedding. It was one of the main reasons Katie had agreed to marry Matt.
Fortunately, her mother had not been there to witness the demise of the marriage she had inspired. But Katie and her mother had been extremely close, and her death had left a hole in Katie’s heart that would never heal. “Thank you for the flowers you sent.”
“Of course,” he said. He glanced away. At first she had been devastated when Jack didn’t call after her mother died. But slowly the pain had given way to curiosity. Matt had a theory for Jack’s disappearance from their lives. Jack had recreated himself. He didn’t want anyone around who remembered him for who he was and how he had grown up.
The waitress arrived with their lunch and placed it in front of them. Plates laden with spaghetti and meatballs and the most delicious-looking garlic bread Katie had ever seen.
She picked up her fork, wondering how she was going to eat without splashing marinara sauce all over herself.
But it hadn’t seemed to bother Jack. He was swirling his spaghetti on his fork and chomping away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you want something else?”
“No,” she said. She stabbed her fork into the mountain of spaghetti and popped it in her mouth. One of the noodles fell out and, with a rather loud noise, she slurped it back in.
Jack was grinning. “No one eats like you, Devonworth.”
She doubted the women Jack dated ate much of anything. Those pictured with him in the newspapers and magazines all looked willow thin and perfectly coiffed. Well, thought Katie. I’m a real woman and proud of it. She broke her garlic bread in half and took a big bite.
“Do you like it?” Jack asked, pointing toward her plate.
She nodded.
“There’s a lot of great restaurants in the city, but there’s something about this place. It kind of reminds me of Macaroni’s back home.”
“It’s good,” she said, her mouth only half-full.
Jack grinned again.
She finished chewing and said, “But Macaroni’s isn’t there anymore. They went out of business a couple of years ago.” Macaroni’s wasn’t the only business to fall victim to Newport Falls’ economy. Jack wouldn’t recognize the once-vibrant Main Street. Many of the stores that had been there since Katie could remember were gone or leaving.
“Oh?” Jack said. “That’s hard to believe. They’d been there forever, hadn’t they?”
“It sure seemed that way,” Katie said.
Neither said anything for a while, focusing on their lunch. But Katie couldn’t relax. She knew she had to ask Jack for money. And she had to do it soon.
Finally Jack said, “Do you ever hear from Matt?”
So Jack knew about her divorce. It didn’t surprise her. The Newport Falls grapevine ran far beyond the borders of the city.
“Every now and then,” she said. “I spoke to him last week. He thinks he might come home soon.”
“Come home?”
“He lives in the Bahamas.” A marriage devoid of passion had not been what Matt had bargained for. She hadn’t loved him, truly loved him, and he’d sensed that. She blamed herself for his philandering, blamed herself when he left town with a secretary from the bank. Their divorce had been fairly amicable. There were no property or children to dispute. They simply left the marriage with whatever they brought into it. She got the newspaper and her parents’ house. He got his freedom.
Jack glanced away. “I meant, well, you said he was coming home. Does that mean returning to you?”
Katie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She didn’t want to discuss this with Jack. Not now. Not ever. “No,” she said. “It means he’s returning to Newport Falls. We’ve been divorced for almost three years now.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, his eyes meeting hers.
“Thanks. But I’m not here to discuss the failure of my marriage or my personal life.” Immediately, Katie regretted her words and the tone of her voice. She didn’t mean to sound so nasty. Jack had been friends with both of them. She had expected him to mention the divorce. But her feelings toward Jack and her reactions to him had never been rational.
He leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms. She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “All right, Devonworth,” he said. “Or should I call you O’Malley?” he asked, referring to Matt’s last name.
“I kept my last name. But you can call me Katie.” He and Matt had always referred to each other, and her, by their last names. But they were kids then. Things had changed.
“Okay, Katie,” he said. “Why are you here?” He wiped his mouth and put down his napkin.
She shifted her gaze. “I, uh, well, I have wondered about you. Wondered how you were doing, what you were up to…” She stumbled.
“Really?” Jack said. “You haven’t asked me one question about what I’ve been doing. And you’re doing that thing