“Is that all right with you, Katherine?” Blaine was asking.
     Katherine shifted her gaze over to the end of the boardroom table.  “I’m sorry?”  She shook her head and concentrated.
     “Your schedule for fund raising.  We’re down for the Sunday morning.  You don’t have a problem with that.”  He said it as a statement rather than a question.
     She glanced down at the schedule on the piece of paper in front of her.  On-air fundraising began on a Sunday morning, and she and Blaine were teamed up for the first time slot.  “No problem.  That’s just fine.”  Being paired with Blaine was not even an unpleasant surprise.  It had been that kind of a week.
     As the others around the table discussed fundraising strategy, Katherine’s mind drifted again.  She couldn’t seem to stop the scenes from replaying over and over.
     “We’ve put so much work into the house,” she had ventured over dinner at the Mill Wheel, “and we haven’t finished it.”
     Rick was pouring red wine into his glass.  “We’ve done enough to show its potential, without sinking a lot of money in it.  Just enough to sell it at a good price.”
     It’s been mostly my money, she thought, but brushed that aside to pursue the more pressing point.  “So the idea is really to sell it and build a new house.”
     Rick swallowed his sip of wine.  “I think so.  Don’t you?  Of course we can keep it until the new house is finished.  But it’ll make a nice sort of original gate house at one of the main arteries of the development, don’t you think?  Someone will like living in an original little local farm house.”
     Someone like me, Katherine thought, picking at her salad.  ”What was that you just said — main artery of the development?  What does that mean?” I hate when he talks like a developer. I’m not going to let him.
     “That’s a technical term for a main access road.  Look — I’ll draw a map.  Have you got a piece of paper?”  When Katherine shook her head, indicating her small evening bag, Rick fingered the white linen napkin but then waved a hand at a waiter.  “Could you bring me a sheet of paper?”  He turned back to Katherine.  “Don’t worry.  You’ll soon learn all these terms.”  He began clicking his pen in excitement.
     “We have several corporate donations again,” Blaine’s voice broke through Katherine’s remembering, “which we’ll announce throughout the campaign to boost interest and build momentum, as we always do…”
     Katherine had watched Rick move aside his plates and cutlery to make room to sketch his plan.  Swift, sure strokes of his pen on the paper.  She loved watching his hand move.  “From your driveway, clear to the woods,” he was saying.  “Of course the barn will have to go.  If we can, we’ll keep some of the woods, skirt around it.  What do you think?  Should add to property values…”
     “So your idea is that my house will be at the corner of one of the roads leading into the…” she paused with distaste at the word, “development.”
     “The subdivision, yeah.  You’re going to have to learn the terminology,” he said, playfully wagging his pen at her.
     Katherine picked up her wine glass, held the liquid in her mouth, studying Rick.  This is my lover, she thought.  I know so much about him.  How his crotch is warm and smells of salt.  How far into my mouth his tongue can reach.  Just thinking of this made something inside her flip with longing.  How is it possible that we can be so far apart on the question of how to live?
     “Let’s hope that Katherine and I make a good start together,” Blaine said, smiling down the table at her.  She nodded with a confidence she didn’t feel.
      “Because with a short campaign like this, we have to start building the momentum right away,” someone from the accounting department was saying. 
     Another voice picked up.  “We’d better get all the hosts talking it up again the week before, don’t you think?  To get the listeners prepared to open their cheque books.” 
     General chuckles, murmurs.  Enthusiasm building.
     It all felt like a nightmare to her, unreal.  She didn’t believe that Rick’s plans could actually be implemented.  He must have misunderstood something.  She felt no need to make any decisions.  Yet it was nice to dwell on the pleasant things he had said.  About wanting to live together.  That he loved her.  Still, doing the dishes a few days ago and looking out her kitchen window, she had suddenly imagined cars going past her on a road where her driveway was, toward other houses in a subdivision, with roofs and backyard fences and streetlights visible, and she caught her breath in shock.
     The meeting was breaking up.  Chairs were scraping back, a few people were clustering.  Katherine tried to slip out the door but Blaine’s fleshy hand reached out and fastened onto her upper arm.  “Could you wait a sec?” he asked her before resuming his conversation with the fellow from accounting.
     Caught, Katherine could only stand there smiling as people wandered out of the boardroom.  She wanted to have Rick live with her.  Have him move his things in with hers.  Find a place for Goldie’s big wicker basket which they’d buy together.  A full-time buddy for Noodle.  To be accepted in Rick’s life.  To get to know his sons.  She wouldn’t try to be a mother to them.  “Call me Katherine,” she would say.  “Or Kate, if you prefer.  That’s what your father calls me.”  And Rick would smile at her and his boys would see how much he loves her.
     It seemed as if Blaine was deliberately going over routine details that weren’t necessary, until the others all left.  Finally, the accountant said “I’ll get on it right away,” and disappeared.  Blaine turned to Katherine.  They were alone.
     “Have you got a moment to go over our strategy for starting the campaign?” he asked.  “I thought we’d go to my office where we’ll be a little more comfortable.”
     “Actually, I still need to wrap a show,” Katherine lied.
     “This won’t take any time at all.  And you can wrap in a few minutes, can’t you?  You’re that good.  That’s why I want you to open the campaign with me.  But come.  Let’s continue this in my office.”  He stood sideways in the doorway, inviting her to go first, and Katherine had no choice but to smile and squeeze past him.  Her blazer brushed his suit jacket; she felt him looking down on her as she passed close by.
     “It’s good to go over our approach ahead of time, don’t you think?  That way we can be thinking about it, getting it firm in our minds.”
     ”That’s fine.”  It was hard to find the enthusiasm.
     His office door was open, but he reached an arm over her shoulder to make the gesture of opening it for her.  She headed for the chair in front of his desk, but he steered her to the sofa and armchair in the corner. 
     “We’ll relax a bit.  Better while we can, right?  Once fundraising starts, it’s the old marathon again.”  He sounded cheerful, as if happy to anticipate the long hours, the laborious progress, the stream of volunteers coming and going to staff the phones.  He was rattling his credenza doors, and drew out two small glasses and a bottle.  Katherine’s heart sank further.

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