Public Secrets

Watching the way the new Mrs. Ferguson doted on her husband nearly restored Emma’s faith in the possibilities of marriage. Though plump and pregnant, Annabelle had worn a white leather mini to her wedding. P.M. was obviously delighted with her.
Even now they had company. Stevie and Katherine Haynes had arrived the night before. Long after she’d gone to bed, Emma had heard her father and Stevie playing. Like old times, she’d thought. The music had made her wistful for the days during her early childhood, when, as though she had been Cinderella, Brian had come to take her to a never-ending ball.
“Good morning.”
She turned and saw Katherine holding two cups of coffee. “Hello.”
“I saw you out here and thought you might like a cup.”
“Thanks. It’s a beautiful morning.”
“Mmmm. I couldn’t sleep through it.” She chose a chair beside Emma. “Are we the only ones up?”
“Yes.” She sipped at the coffee.
“Traveling makes me restless. I imagine you find a lot here to photograph.”
Emma hadn’t picked up a camera in more than a year, and was sure Katherine was aware of it. “It’s a beautiful spot.”
“A change from New York.”
“Yes.”
“Would you rather I went away?”
“No, I’m sorry.” Emma’s fingers began to tap against her mug. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“But I make you uncomfortable.”
“Your profession does.”

Katherine stretched out her legs to rest her ankles against the bottom rail. “I’m here as a friend, not as a doctor.” She waited, watching a gull soar out to the water. “But I wouldn’t be a good friend, or a good doctor, if I didn’t try to help.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look fine. Not all wounds show though, do they?”
Emma looked at her then, calm and passionless. “Perhaps not, but they say time takes care of that.”
“If that were true, I’d be out of business. Your parents are concerned, Emma.”
“They needn’t be. I don’t want them to be.”
“They love you.”
“Drew’s dead,” Emma said. “He can’t hurt me anymore.”
“He can’t beat you anymore,” Katherine agreed. “But he can still hurt you.” She lapsed into silence, sipping her coffee and watching the waves. “You’re too polite to tell me to go to hell.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
With a light laugh, Katherine turned her head. “One day I’ll tell you about all the rude and revolting things Stevie pulled on me. You might come close, but I doubt you could match him.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
Thrown a bit off stride, Katherine lifted one shoulder. “Ask me again in six months. Bev tells me you’re seeing someone named Michael.”
“He’s a friend.”
I love you, Emma .
“A friend,” she repeated as she set the coffee aside.
“A detective, isn’t he? The son of the man who investigated your brother’s murdér.” Taking Emma’s silence in stride, Katherine continued. “It’s strange how life runs in circles, isn’t it? Makes us feel a bit like a puppy chasing his own tail. I’d just finished a miserable divorce when I met Stevie. My ego was belly-down, and my opinion of men…Well, let’s just say I found certain varieties of slugs more attractive. I detested Stevie on sight. That was personal. Professionally I was determined to help him, and get him out of my hair. Now here we are.”
Though she no longer wanted it, Emma picked up the mug again and sipped the cooling coffee. “Did you feel as though you’d failed?”

“With my marriage?” Katherine kept her tone easy. It was a question she’d wondered if Emma would ask. “Yes. And I had. But then people fail all the time. The hard part isn’t even admitting it, it’s accepting it.”
“I failed with Drew, I accept that. Is that what you want me to say?”
“No. I don’t want you to say anything unless you need to.”
“I failed myself.” She sprang up, slamming her mug on the little redwood table. “All those months, I failed myself. Is that the right answer?”
“Is it?”
On an oath, Emma turned to the rail. “I don’t want to do this. If I’d wanted a psychiatrist, I could have had a dozen by now.”
“You know, you made quite an impression on me the first time I saw you. You were about to storm out of Stcvie’s hospital room after giving him the dressing-down I’d been dying to give him. He didn’t want help, either.”
“I’m not Stevie.”
“No, you’re not.” Katherine rose then. She wasn’t as tall