Bound

Kate & Ryke

Kate

I stared at the door, the coffee bean grinder still in my hands.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"No." Mimi looked up from the sink and smiled. "He can be a little moody sometimes. When he gets back this afternoon, he'll be fine. Hard exercise always winds him down."

"How long have you worked for him?"

"I started right after he moved in, about a year-and-a-half ago."

I sat the bean grinder on the counter and plugged it in. "So you never knew . . .?"

"His wife? No, I didn't."

She reached under the counter for glass cleaner to make the stainless sink and long gooseneck faucet sparkle. Mimi reminded me of my mom. She was a little older, maybe 50, her short black hair spotted with gray. I was sure my mom would color hers blonde to her dying day. It wasn't their looks that were the same, but their warmth.

I filled the grinder with beans from the canister Mimi had shown me on the counter. "Well, you and I will have to try my experiment in coffee making, then."

"He likes this dark kind best, but he also likes trying new kinds sometimes," she said. "Nothing too fancy, though."

There was something sad in her tone that made me turn to her. "You know I'm not replacing you or anything, right? I want to help out by making his coffee for you, but he has other plans for me, like keeping his schedule."

She smiled. "I know. I've just gotten used to being the one who takes care of him. He's the same age as my son, and I'm fond of him."

"Well, I'm not good at cooking, cleaning or anything else domestic, so don't worry. He'll probably figure out soon that I'm a flighty disaster and fire me anyway."

Mimi laughed as she gathered cleaning supplies. "He's pretty laid back. Don't worry about that. I'll be cleaning the guest rooms."

"I'll bring you some coffee when it's ready." I followed the instructions she'd given me, letting my mind wander as I waited for it to brew.

It'd been almost a year since I'd met Quinn. How young and carefree I was that day. My giddiness over him was my world for the brief time we were together.

I was more than two weeks late before it even dawned on me that I could be pregnant. Two hours and three pregnancy tests later, I wasn't carefree anymore. I squeezed my eyes against the memory of my tears, my stupid 21-year-old self sure getting pregnant was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I'd find out it wasn't. I should have celebrated that moment; cried tears of joy for the baby growing inside of me. God, how I wished I could do it over.

The drip-drip-drip of dark coffee trickling into the pot broke my stare of concentration into space. I squared my shoulders, pulling two mugs down from an open shelf. This kitchen and everything in it was more lavish than any I'd ever been in. I'd have to bring over my chipped Ryan Gosling mug, because these heavy white ones with fancy handles made me nervous.

I carried two mugs carefully down the dark wood hallway, looking for Mimi. I stuck my head through the door of an all-white guest room I hadn't been in yet. The sound of running water told me I was in the right place, and I headed for the bathroom.

"God, this place is amazing," I said, looking around at a claw foot bathtub, black and white tile and a wide black vanity. "It's like a fancy hotel."

"I know. Where are you from?" Mimi got up from the floor and rubbed her knees.

"Westchester. What about you?"