MORIANI HOME
The footsteps fall lightly on the
wooden floor of the hallway. They carry softly to the kitchen, whispers
from the slippered feet that are making their way through the darkened
house.
"Hunting around for a midnight snack?"
Ryan asks
from his place at the counter, where he is sitting on a stool
nursing a martini.
"I suppose,"
Nick says, rolling his
eyes at the sight of the martini before he opens the pantry door.
"Katherine
asleep?"
"Mm-hmm." A few more silent seconds
of rummaging produce no promising results and the pantry is closed again.
Nick glances over at the coffeepot and, seeing that there is at least enough
left for another cup, moves to the cupboard.
Ryan inhales the last of his drink.
"How was your night out?"
"Fine." Nick doesn't hesitate with
the answer, but Katherine's questions -- and the subsequent hammering of
his heart -- are back on his mind in an instant. Not that they were ever
far away to begin with, of course. He goes on pouring his coffee. "How
was your night?"
"Oh, freaking wonderful." The declaration
makes his voice jump up to what Nick finds too high a volume, and he wonders
how many drinks Ryan has finished off tonight the way he did that martini.
"I'm sorry we left you alone--"
"You went out with your wife. No
biggie." Ryan picks up the glass and examines it, as if looking for another
drop. "No, I, uh, had a visitor."
Nick puts down the freshly filled
cup of coffee on the counter. "Claire?"
"Oh, no. Although that would have
been just dandy, too ...
No, it was Stan."
The reaction is instantaneous, sharp
as a knife's edge. "What was he doing here?"
"He had news. Wonderful news." Ryan
pauses, affecting some kind of twisted dramatic touch to torture himself.
"He's moving to King's Bay."
"You're kidding."
"Oh, no, I would not lie about such
thrilling news. Apparently he's got some woman in town he wants to be near."
"God help her soul." Nick sips at
the coffee thoughtfully, although Ryan can see him tensing significantly.
"Did you make him leave?"
"Yeah." The answer is more of a choke
than a spoken word. "I can't believe that he keeps coming around like this
-- and now he thinks that I'll want to see him if he's here--"
"You haven't exactly given him reason
to think otherwise, Ryan."
The statement sounds like an accusation,
and it pricks Ryan just like one.
"You've kept up contact with him
all these years," Nick says, his tone unrelenting. "If you don't want to
see him ... Then why haven't you acted like it?"
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