Beer was Brian's first priority when he entered his apartment thirty minutes later, hoping to find at least one in the refrigerator. "Disaster!" he groaned, finding nothing but a half-emptied bottle of white wine. He extracted it, pulled the cork and took a long pull. His thirst temporarily satisfied, he wiped his lips and placed the bottle on the counter below the telephone. "Reconciliation time, Brian baby," he declared, then removed Kerri's note from his wallet and dialed the telephone number.
"May I speak to Kerri, please?"
"Who's calling?" Andrea asked, her eyes focused on Kerri, no more than five feet away.
"Brian."
"Please hold for a minute," Andrea said, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "It's your husband," she whispered, frowning and shaking her head, attempting to discourage Kerri from accepting the call.
"I'll take it," Kerri said, reaching for the receiver.
"You want me to leave?" Andrea asked.
Kerri shook her head, then pushed the hair away from her right ear to make room for the receiver. "Hi," she said, already experiencing the shame of being unable to suppress her curiosity.
"Kerri, I need to see you tonight? It's really important."
"Why?"
"There's so much I want to say to you...I want to do it in person."
"Just do it on the telephone."
"I can't. I really want to see you...I miss you."
"Have you been drinking?"
"Not a drop," Brian lied, rolling his eyes. "Please let me see you. I promise I'll behave myself."
"Brian, seeing me won't change a thing. I can't just sweep the past under the..."
"I'm desperate," Brian interrupted. "I'm right on the edge. I don't know what I'll do if I can't see you."
The tone of Brian's voice reminded Kerri of the most romantic time she had ever experienced with him, the night they sat in his car on Mount Seymour, near Vancouver, the loving and incredibly persuasive way he asked her to go to New York with him. The memory softened her resolve. "What do you want to talk about? I can't imagine..."
"Please let me see you, Kerri. I'll tell you when I get there."
Kerri remained silent.
"Please," Brian pleaded. "I can't begin to tell you how important it is to me."
"You can't stay long. I have work to do."
"I'll be there in less than thirty minutes."
"Just ring the doorbell. I'll come out," Kerri said, then hung up and stared forlornly at the telephone.
"I don't believe it," Andrea said, continuing her frown. "You're a masochist."
"I won't let him come in," Kerri promised, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Andrea. "We'll talk on the verandah."
"You know that's not what I meant. What I can't understand is why you agreed to see him. I would have told him to screw himself."
Kerri turned to face Andrea. "Would you understand if I told you I feel sorry for him?"
"How could you possibly feel sorry for a bastard like him? What does he have to do to make you realize he's a loser?"
"Maybe I'm a slow learner, or maybe there's a part of me that just can't let go."