A sad story, especially when Jane considered the children and how confused they must have felt. Still, she was reassured to hear that the Grays’ marital problems went back so far. It relieved some of her guilt. Not all. But some.
“Gillian resented my long hours at work. At the same time, she pressured me for money for home renovations and a family vacation in Europe. I guess I took the easy way out, opting to spend more hours at the office rather than deal with her moods at home. I figured once I had my promotion to partnership life would get easier.”
“But it didn’t.”
He shook his head. “As you know, they only pile on more cases once you make partner.”
“That’s true. But you can set boundaries,” she added gently. She’d never heard of Matthew turning down a case or refusing to work on a weekend.
“Gillian had legitimate complaints,” Matthew acknowledged.
“Did you guys consider counseling?”
“I was willing. She wasn’t.”
Jane grimaced.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the kids.” He skated his glass over the slick surface of the table.
He kept a photograph of his son and daughter on his desk. Jane had noticed it this morning as she’d passed by his office on her way to the supply room, which she no longer avoided.
“How are Derrick and Violet doing now?”
“Violet’s fine. She’s young and the new situation hasn’t upset her routine very much, since she always sleeps in her own room. But Derrick’s pretty angry.”
“At you?”
“Yeah. He definitely views me as the culprit. He rolls his eyes every time I mention anything to do with work. I’m struggling to achieve a better balance in my life, but sometimes my efforts seem futile. Especially when my son makes it obvious he’d rather be with his mother.”
“Matt…” It wasn’t like him to be so negative.
“Sorry. We’ve been talking about this too long.” He leaned over the table. “What’s new with you?”
She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn so quickly. “I joined a health club,” she offered weakly.
“So you said. Anything else? Are you dating anyone?”
The question was thrown in as if meant very casually, but to Jane Matt’s eyes burned as he waited for her response.
“Not right now.” She met a lot of men in her line of work, so there were always opportunities for dating. None of the men she’d gone out with this year had held her interest, though. They all fell short compared with Matt.
The truth was there had never been a man who affected her the way Matthew did. Not even her first love, in university; or the man she’d almost married five years ago. Even now she felt like a nervous teenager on a date rather than a competent professional sharing a drink with a colleague.
“We haven’t discussed the case yet,” she realized.
“We aren’t here to discuss the case.”
“We aren’t?”
“No, Jane, I hope—”
He stopped talking when his BlackBerry buzzed loudly.
“I thought I’d switched this off,” he muttered as he reached for the thing.
Jane assumed that was what he was about to do now, but a glance at the number changed his mind.
“It’s my son,” he said, rising from his seat as he spoke. “I have to talk to him. Can you give me a minute?”
“Sure.” Her lips felt stiff, but she forced a smile, averting her gaze rather than watching him walk away from the table.
She couldn’t help but think back to that other time over a year ago. This interruption was far less dramatic, but it was an equally effective reminder that where Matthew Gray was concerned, she had to guard her emotions very carefully.
MATTHEW WOULD HAVE interrupted his conversation with Jane for only two people in the world. Since Violet was too young to use the phone, that left Derrick.
“Hey, son. What’s up?” He strode through the pub and out the door. Lingering by the stairs, he plugged his free ear to block the traffic noise.
“I’m calling about the game on Friday.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Pardon?”
“We still don’t have a coach.”
So none of the other parents had volunteered. As the silence stretched out between his son and him, Matthew tried to think of some way he could volunteer himself. But to commit to practices, as well as games, was more than he could manage.
Surely saying no was better than promising something he couldn’t deliver.
“I wish I could help you out, son. But—”
“Yeah. You have to work. I get it.”
He sounded so jaded. Matthew felt both defensive and guilty. “It costs a lot of money to send you to Mountain View Academy. And to buy you and your sister all the latest—”
“I said I got it, Dad. You probably don’t know enough about soccer to coach it, anyway.”
That was true, which only made him more frustrated. “I’m sure I could learn.”
“What’s the point? You’re too busy, remember?”
Matthew inhaled deeply. Reminded himself he was the adult here. “I’m sure you must be disappointed, but the soccer association will find you a new coach soon. Hopefully, one who actually understands the strategy behind the game.”
“Yeah. Right.” Clearly, Derrick wasn’t holding out any hopes.
Matthew longed to say something that would make his son feel better. But there was no quick fix to this situation. Not for any of them.