“Of course.” He rolled his length out of the chair and sauntered from the room.
Another silence followed while Kathleen plucked at a loose thread on her sleeve. At last, when she felt that she would burst if Seth didn’t yell at her for her abominable behavior, she said, “I’m sorry. I know I embarrassed you in front of your associate and I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything and she was forced to look at him. There was no reproach or anger in his eyes, only worry. “Kathleen, what’s wrong?” His voice was like velvet, quiet and soothing. Had he been condemning, she would have fought back, but that compelling voice punctured her haughtiness and she sagged in defeat.
“I don’t know.”
“Come here,” he said. She didn’t argue with him. She went to his wheelchair and let him pull her down onto his lap much as he had done the day she had told him she was pregnant. “Are you sure you don’t know what’s the matter? You haven’t been yourself for a while now. If there’s something wrong, I want to know about it. Can I help you in any way?”
“Oh, Seth,” she groaned into his neck, and welcomed the feel of his arms around her. He was so kind. If she confessed to him now that she loved his friend, that Erik was Theron’s father, she knew that he would forgive her. His love was unconditional. But she would never hurt him that way. She adored him too much.
“What’s bothering you? Is it Erik?”
Her heart stopped. Did Seth already know? Had she been too careless with the longing looks she gave Erik each time they were in the same room? Did Seth discern the similarity between Theron and Erik, which became more noticeable each day?
She had to say something. “Why would Erik bother me?” She laughed lightly, but it had a brittle sound.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think the two of you really like each other. Other times, I think you’re squaring off for combat.”
She put her arm around Seth’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, trying to keep her relief from showing. “The only thing I’m worried about right now is not getting those clothes on time.”
He was too intelligent to be put off so easily. “Kathleen.” He cupped her face with both his hands and waited until she had raised her eyes to his before he spoke. “I told you once that if you ever wanted anything—anything—all you need do is ask. If it’s within my limited power to give it to you, I will. I love you. Do you know how much?”
Tears had flooded her eyes now and she read the love that had always been so evident in his glowing brown eyes. She nodded her head slowly. She had an idea of how much he must love her. He was plagued by an unfulfilled, gnawing love that couldn’t be nurtured or ignored. She also knew, in this case, that it was an undeserved love and, therefore, that much more precious.
She collapsed against him and cried in racking sobs. Finally, after several minutes, she sat up and accepted his handkerchief. “I think maybe you have too much to do,” Seth said. “Tears like that are often the product of extreme exhaustion.”
“No. I’m fine now. Maybe all I needed was a good cry.” She smiled. “I must get busy now. As you know, I’ve got to put through several dozen calls to New York and make lifetime enemies of overworked cutters and seamstresses.”
He laughed, but was serious when he said, “If anyone can work the miracle, you can. Just don’t wear yourself out doing it. Nothing is as important to me as you are.”
“I know,” she whispered, and kissed him gently on the mouth. She eased out of his lap and noticed the boniness of his knees through the cloth of his pants.
“Seth,” she broached the subject warily, for she knew he was sensitive about it, “are you feeling well? You seem so tired lately. When did you last see your doctor?”
He tossed back his head in feigned exasperation. “What is this? Turn about, fair play? Of course I’m feeling well. George would be offended if he knew you didn’t think he was taking proper care of me. He watches me like an old mother hen.” He took her hand and pressed it between his own. “Promise me, Kathleen, that you’ll never worry unduly about me. I’ll be fine. I promise you that.”
She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t want to nag him with her own concerns. “Then get back to work!” she commanded as she put on a falsely cheerful air and sashayed toward the door. “I’ll tell Claire to bring you some coffee.” She waved goodbye to him and went out through the secretary’s office.
Thankfully, Erik had left.
* * *
Late in the morning of Thanksgiving Day, Kathleen came bounding down the stairs with the intention of joining Seth on the driveway. He had already gone out to wait for Erik, who was coming over for one of their basketball-shooting bouts. Since Erik had had the hoop installed, they spent several hours a week at the exercise.
Kathleen had worriedly asked George if he thought it was too strenuous a workout for Seth.
“No,” he answered. “Don’t discourage it, Kathleen. He enjoys it, more for the competition than for the exercise. Leave him alone. He needs to share something like this with other men his age.”
So she said nothing, though she often thought Seth looked completely undone by the time he and Erik finished their games. Now she watched from the patio door as Seth dribbled the ball beside the wheel of his chair. It got beyond his reach and he lost control. The ball bounced and rolled into some bushes. Seth glanced around, apparently looking for George, but he found himself alone.
He wheeled toward the bushes and tried to lean over them to retrieve the ball. Sweat popped out on his forehead as the muscles of his neck and arm strained to reach it. Concerned that he was going to fall out of the chair, Kathleen was just about to go through the door to help him when he doubled up his fists and pounded the arms of his chair.
“Goddammit! I hate being a cripple!” Tears of frustration had mingled with the perspiration that poured down his lean cheeks. His voice was only a hoarse whisper, yet she could hear it from that distance. His face was contorted into an angry mask and he continued to pound on the arms of the chair, cursing it and himself. “Dammit all to hell. Why? Why me?”
Kathleen was stunned. Never, since she had known him, had she heard Seth curse his condition. He was always joking about the paralysis. This visible evidence of the anguish he must constantly live with was too pitiable to watch. She momentarily closed her eyes, drawing strength, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound patronizing.