I followed him slowly and quickly came to the realization that it was none of my business. If Jay wasn’t willing to share with me his reasons for disappearing for two days, then that was his business. We hadn’t had time to reach the point in our relationship where it was a requirement to know each other’s whereabouts. And besides Kathleen, I asked myself, who said he disappeared? It dawned on me that the rebuff I had given Jay the other night when I didn’t invite him back to my place had backfired. As usual, my mother would say, I had been thinking of only myself. I had been tired and depressed and wanted my personal space to myself. And in my usual, selfish fashion, I had neglected to share that with Jay.
I turned on the Tiffany lamp on my desk and closed the drapes in the living room, all the while feeling more and more uncomfortable with the situation. Jay was sitting on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table. I watched him as he picked up his coffee cup and took a slow sip. He stared at me over the rim of the cup. The silence between us was deafening and for once I had no smart remarks to make.
I picked up my coffee where Jay had placed it on the table and sat on the chair at my desk facing Jay.
I finally broke the silence.
"I apologize," I said quietly. "My behaviour was uncalled for."
Jay shrugged. "You reacted as expected."
I thought about that and wasn’t surprised. Jay knew me better than I gave him credit for.
"The message I left the other day. About explaining." I looked at him expectantly wanting a pardon before I made the not-guilty plea.
I faltered when he didn’t respond. "I needed to be alone. I’m sorry if you took that the wrong way. I understand now why you haven’t called me in a couple of days."
"I understood Kate. But it made me angry. I’ll admit that. When you’re involved with someone, you expect them to be open. And honest. So, do you mind if I make the first stab at honesty here?"
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear this but I nodded mutely anyway. Jay put his coffee cup on the table and stood up. He ran his hand repeatedly through his hair and paced behind the sofa.
"You’re a very emotional person Kate," he told me, as if I didn’t know. "You say what you mean and you mean what you say. Some people appreciate that. It’s a characteristic I admire." He paused. "But what gets in the way of you being an emotional person is your inability to see other people’s emotions. I mean, understand their emotions."
Very succinct. He had just told me in a roundabout way that I was selfish. I sat silently and swallowed and felt a blush rise to my face.
"What was that you said to Harold the other day? Something about sympathy and where it was in the dictionary?"
My face was beet red now and I straightened my back and looked straight at him. The lyrics from some long-forgotten song played in the back of my head. Hit me with your best shot. Fire away! Jay’s pistol was cocked and I steadied myself for the shot.
"Sympathy and empathy go a long way, you know. You never seem to take other people’s feelings into consideration. You’re not the only one who has suffered this last week. You’re not the only one who lost a friend. And, just in case you need reminding, there’ve been traumatic things happening to the people around you." He took a deep breath and sat down heavily.
I had been told, in no uncertain terms, and I felt about six inches high. I was speechless and for good reason. I didn’t know what to say.
"I’ve known you all my life, Kate. I’ve always admired your toughness, your strength. But if we’re going to have any sort of relationship, be it together as a couple, or just friends, you need to... " he trailed off without completing the thought. He held up his hand like he was stopping traffic.
"Forget it. I’m not about to dictate how you should behave. I’m a big boy and I accept you the way you are."
I was glad he stopped because I didn’t need any more hints. I had been selfish and I admitted it. My failure to acknowledge what Jay had been through hit me in the face.
"I’m sorry," I told him. I lit a cigarette and wandered around the living room. My hand caressed the fabric of the drapes and I pulled them apart and stared out at the street. If he could be a big boy, I could be a big girl and face reality. When you live alone you become the center of the universe. The reality was that I was the center of my universe and I grudgingly acknowledged to myself that I was self-centered. Was it any wonder that I was still living alone at the mature age of thirty-four?
Jay was standing beside me now and I admitted to myself that I liked the feeling of him being there. He tentatively put his arm around my shoulder and I knew I was forgiven.
Jay woke me early next morning and tossed my sweat pants in my face.
"Put them on," he ordered. "We’re going for a walk."
When I groaned and tried to roll over, he pulled the duvet off me and tossed it to the end of the bed.
"I’ll allow you one cup of coffee and we’re off."
"Walk? I already walked once this week," I protested.
He laughed. "You should walk every day Kathleen. Get some exercise. Take your frustrations out on the pavement instead of everyone around you. It’s good for the attitude."
It was a cool spring morning and I practically had to skip to keep up with him as we headed towards the park. He finally slowed down around the pond and I took this as a sign. I grabbed the first empty bench and sat down.
"Who said you could stop?" he said and grinned at me. "We’re just getting our heart rate up. You have to sustain that rate for at least twenty minutes for the workout to have any effect."
"I’ll wait here for you. My heart rate’s been up since we left the house. Go on." He put his hands on his hips. "Seriously," I told him. "You need it more than I do," I teased him.
"Wait here then," he said as he jogged off.
I leaned back on the bench and stretched my legs out in front of me and thought about lighting a cigarette. I breathed deeply instead and enjoyed the feeling of the fresh air in my lungs. It was surprisingly quiet in the park and I looked around me. Up the slight incline in front of where I was sitting I saw a newspaper box. Digging in the pocket of my sweatpants for change I ran up the little hill and dropped the coins in the slot.
The article I was looking for was below the fold. "Toronto Executive Found Dead". There was a small picture of Rick Cox in the middle of the story and I recognized the photo as the one that appeared in our last annual report. With the paper tucked under my arm I returned to the bench to carefully read the story.
Richard Cox, who earlier this week resigned as chief financial officer of TechniGroup Consulting Inc., was found dead yesterday in his Rosedale home of an apparently self-inflicted gunshot wound. Cox is survived by his wife and two daughters.
One securities analyst interviewed for this report, speculated that there was more to Cox’s resignation than was disclosed to the public and TechniGroup’s shareholders. An employee of the company, who asked that his name be withheld, told the writer that it was common knowledge at TechniGroup that Cox’s leaving was not a resignation. When asked if Cox had recently exhibited signs of depression, the employee was unable to comment.
Police report that Cox was found by an employee of TechniGroup who was delivering some papers to his home. Police declined to release the employee’s name.
The story went on to recount the recent slide in TechniGroup’s stock price and the reporter, who obviously didn’t hold any stock, speculated that this latest turn of events would not bode well for TechniGroup’s shareholders.
The report finished by reminding the readers that Cox had been questioned by the police regarding the mysterious death of a TechniGroup employee.
I wasn’t surprised that they had interviewed a securities analyst for the story because it was the analysts who ultimately drove the price of publicly-traded stocks. Securities analysts were the barometer of the stock market
. What surprised me though was the fact that the analysts on the street knew that Cox hadn’t resigned. Someone had been talking in their sleep.