by Kit Harlow
David extended his hand and they shook on it. "Well," he started, "that alone makes tonight worth it! I'll buy the next round to seal the deal." He started to walk towards the main bar. Katie sent Melissa after him to help carry the drinks, leaving the two of us alone.
We looked at each other and I sighed. "He seems nice," she said.
"He is," I replied and we fell into an awkward staring contest with the floor, neither of us wanting to look up. "Melissa's—pretty." It was the only nice thing I could think to say. Why did I have a hard time with this, I wondered. If I was being honest, I was embarrassed.
Katie snorted. "She's a bitch." Then we laughed. Katie looked at me and studied my face for a long moment. I fought the urge to squirm. It was uncomfortable, but only because I was afraid of what she might see.
"Does he really make you happy?" The question was so quiet I almost didn't hear her.
My eyes stung. She still cared and I wished she didn't. I wished I didn't. It made this so much harder. "Yes," I replied simply. It was all I could say.
"I'm glad," she replied, slight smile on her face. It was sad, but genuine. "You deserve it," she said like it was the hardest statement she'd ever uttered. My heart broke. I never wanted to cause her this much pain, this much anguish. Now that we worked together, the last thing I wanted or needed was more awkwardness in the office. And this—this took the cake.
"Katie—" I started, but she shook her head and transformed her face from serious to happy as David and Melissa walked back over carrying drinks. I struggled to regain my composure as David pulled me close and we toasted the deal. Katie promised to bring the print by in the next couple of days. David gave her our address and wrote a check on the spot. I hadn't ever seen him that excited over artwork. We spent the rest of the night mingling with other coworkers, but I kept Katie in my line of sight, watching her out of the corner of my eyes for the rest of the evening. She never looked at me, almost like she made a conscious effort to avoid me, though I knew, without seeing, that she was always aware of where I was, whether or not I was smiling, if I was watching her. I contented myself with being with David.
We left the party soon after and both of us crashed on the sofa once we were back in our apartment. David was tipsy, but I was still stone-cold sober. I didn't want to be. He unbuttoned his collar and tossed his shoes into the middle of the living room. I curled up next to him wanting to shake the lingering emotions from the evening. I wanted to forget Katie completely, so I tried. I nuzzled David's neck, kissing the soft flesh behind his ear and nibbling his earlobe. He sighed and groaned. My hand found his thigh and I felt the hardness building. In one smooth motion, David pinned me to the couch gently and proceeded to kiss me, driving all thoughts from my mind. What followed was an intense and passionate night. We fell asleep in each other's arms.
◆◆◆
Before I knew it, David had returned to Chicago, citing the need to prepare for a winter term that I didn’t know existed. He wouldn’t stay for Christmas, though he promised to be back in time for New Year’s. The whole situation made me surly and sour towards the holidays. But I did what I could. I threw myself into work, writing as many articles and taking as many assignments as I could. On Christmas Eve, I stayed late at the office, huddled at my desk. It was easier than being home. Katie walked past my desk and doubled back when she realized I was still there.
"Hey," she said, getting my attention. "Merry Christmas."
"You, too," I said, turning my attention back to my work almost immediately. I didn't trust myself not to cry, I felt so alone.
"Any plans?"
I took a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in my throat. It was the first time I'd be alone for the holidays in my life. I could go back home, but the thought of spending time with my dysfunctional family left me colder than the Boston winter.
"I'm staying here, binge-watching Netflix, and pretending I have a life. You?"
"Em is coming for a few days," she said, unable to hide the excitement in her eyes. Kate's family had disowned her shortly after high school and the only person who still spoke to her was her kid sister, Emily. When Katie and I were together, Em and I had been friends. She was younger, but wicked smart and had the fastest wit I'd ever experienced.
"Is David out of town again?" she asked.
"Yeah. We celebrated early this year. He has a bunch of work to prepare for next semester, so he had to go back..." I knew my tone was sour, but I didn't care. Our marriage was taking a backseat to his career and I had the eerie feeling I was repeating my own history.
Katie looked sympathetic. "Do you want to come to my place for Christmas? Emily would love to see you," Kate offered.
"No, I wouldn't want to intrude. Thanks, though."
Kate shook her head. "You shouldn't be alone for the holidays. The offer stands," she insisted.
At least someone out here cared about me and my loneliness. Even if that someone was my ex...my ex that I told myself I wanted to hate.
"Tell Em I said hi," I requested as she hiked her bag over her shoulder and turned to leave.
Katie nodded. "Have a good night," she said softly.
"Merry Christmas," I whispered as she walked out of the office. I hunkered down in my desk, wishing I could wake up and be home in Northampton. The lingering question was home with whom?
Chapter 8
At home, I decorated my Christmas tree alone, heart heavy and feeling pathetic. David had Skyped with me earlier, but it just wasn't the same. I wanted physical contact. I wanted our old traditions. In that moment, if he had been there, I would have begged to move back to Northampton where we were at least able to see each other daily and were never separated by hundreds of miles. But life was what it was. To make matters worse, he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to make it to Boston. One of his friends was going on a dig for the first two weeks in January and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I'd be spending my winter holidays utterly and completely alone. I told him that it was fine and that I would be fine, but in all honesty, I was angry and felt abandoned.
The sun glinted though the windows of my bedroom, pulling me out of a fitful night's sleep. I glanced at my clock. It was already 9. I sighed. Christmas morning and I was alone. I tried calling David, but there was no answer, so I started my morning ritual of making a large pot of coffee. By the time the first cup had brewed, I was angry—I wasn’t supposed to be alone. David used to be the type of husband that would do anything and everything to be home for the holidays. That included losing one or two jobs during college, or so the story went. He’d even driven home in a U-Haul our second Christmas when his flight was canceled.
I sipped my coffee in anger, wondering just what had happened. Why he’d decided to leave for Chicago not more than a week after he’d gotten home. I understood why he wouldn’t be here for New Year’s, but Christmas? Really? Could he have someone on the side? I was slow to dismiss the possibility.
My phone chimed. I quickly picked it up, thinking it was David.
The screen flashed the message. "The offer still stands."
I closed my eyes and sighed. I shouldn't do it. But I quickly typed into my phone, “Half or full dozen?” It had been our tradition for years.
“We’re 32…” the reply came.
I smiled. “So, full dozen then?”
“:)”
I pulled on my shoes, grabbed my wallet, and headed out into the winter air, choosing to take my bike rather than rely on the spotty public transit system during a holiday. I stopped off at Dunkin' Donuts, picking up a dozen of Katie's favorites, and booked it to her apartment, pausing only at the liquor store to buy a bottle of scotch. I stared at the row of bottles, grabbed the Glen Livet 18 year and a gift bag. I wouldn't come empty handed.
I stood outside her apartment building struggling to catch my breath. I could do this. Up the four flights of stairs to her door, I knocked, waiting anxiously.
The door flung open, revealing a slightly older Emily.
>
"Hey, kid," I said, genuinely glad to see her.
"What the fuck took you so long?" she asked with a grin, pulling me into the warm apartment. It was the warmest greeting I could have hoped for. The last time I'd seen Emily, she threw a plate at my head. I guess years of maturity had improved her attitude towards me.
Katie was in the kitchen, from the sounds of it, making coffee. I put the donuts on the dining table and turned to Emily. She laughed and rushed in for a hug. It felt like coming home.
"Sorry about the last time," she said sheepishly. Nice to know she hadn't forgotten.
I shrugged. "I deserved it," I replied, ready and willing to admit my guilt.
She shook her head. "Well, at least the family's back together, even if it's just a temporary thing," she said with a wink and smiled genuinely.
"KitKat!" She shouted. "Company!" I smiled at the nickname. Em was the only one who could use it without Katie cringing or grumbling about why everyone should use her proper nickname.
Katie came out carrying three mugs of coffee. She was dressed in her usual Christmas morning outfit—sweatpants, an ancient college hoodie that I vaguely recognized as mine, and her favorite fluffy bunny slippers. I smiled as memories of Christmases popped up in my mind.
"Morning," she said gently, handing me a cup of coffee which I took gratefully.
"Thanks for the invite," I said, meeting her eyes. Her cheeks colored and she dropped my gaze.
"I'm glad you came." It was little more than a whisper.
Em giggled. "Just like old times," she said, breaking the awkwardness. "Now get your asses over here before I eat all the Boston Cremes."
We passed the morning watching old horror movies. It was how we'd always celebrated Christmas and I hadn't realized how much I missed it until that moment. My first year with David, I'd tried to celebrate the same way, but he thought it was weird and switched the TV off.
"So you're married, huh?" Emily asked, curled up on the couch while I sat on the floor by the coffee table.
"Yeah, to a guy, no less!" Katie chimed in. There was still a hint of bitterness in her voice, but I could ignore it.
"It doesn't feel like I'm married at the moment," I said more to myself than them. In truth, I wasn't upset, I was just lonely. That's what forced me to seek out Katie's company, or so I told myself.
The mantle of awkwardness settled on our shoulders again. This time, Em caught on.
"Whatever. Fuck him. There's this drive-thru divorce practice I can refer you to. A few of my friends have used it and they're much happier now. Besides, if you play your cards right, I might know a certain woman who would be interested in keeping you company..." She said conspiratorially, casting a sidelong look full of mischief at Kate.
Katie glared at Emily and kicked her across the couch.
"What? It's Liz! She's gayer than you are!"
"Emily!" Kate shouted, embarrassed.
"You think I'm kidding? Look at her? Can you even picture yourself with your husband, Liz?"
I blushed. I could picture myself with him, but not another man. I was a gay woman who happened to fall in love with one exceptional man.
"Emily Hannah Masterson!" Katie said firmly.
"No, it's fine," I said with a pained smile. I met Kate's eyes and saw the apology written on her face. "Divorce is a bit extreme right now, but if it gets worse, I'll get that information from you."
Emily nodded once and stood to head to the balcony. "Anyone care to join me?" she asked, waving a very large joint in front of us. College me would have jumped on the opportunity, but at the moment, all I wanted was to revel in the fact that I was sitting on the couch, next to Katie, almost like nothing had happened.
Katie shook her head. Em shrugged and shut the sliding glass door behind her, leaving me and Kate alone together.
She slid from the couch to the floor. "Sorry about that," she whispered.
I shook my head. "She just cares about you and doesn't want me to hurt you again," I speculated. "And, hey! She didn't throw a plate at me this time!" I added with a laugh.
Katie's eyes went wide. "She did what?"
I chuckled. "About two months after you moved to New York, I bumped into Em at the grocery store. I stupidly tried to say hi and she threw a plate at my head in response. Never have I been more thankful for my reflexes!"
Katie buried her head in her hands. "Oh God, I am so sorry!"
"It's fine! No harm done," I replied, still finding it amusing.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. "Why did you invite me?" I stared at my hands, almost afraid to meet her eyes. It confused me more than why I said yes.
I felt her shrug. "Because it's Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas." We stared at the TV screen for a few minutes, watching the monster from the black lagoon go after yet another victim.
"This feels more like Christmas than the last five years have," I said more to myself than anyone else. Kate leaned into me, shoulder to shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked, nervously.
I sighed and stared at her. “Are we being honest right now?”
She smiled. “I think we owe each other that much at least.” She sighed. “Besides—there’s no one here to wear a mask for.” A smile played at the corners of her lips.
“No. I’m not okay. My husband doesn’t seem to want to spend time at home anymore. I work with you,” I said pointedly.
“Ouch,” she laughed.
“You know what I mean. It’s hard. And I still can’t seem to shake the felling that I’m not the person I’m supposed to be.”
Katie sighed and leaned back against the sofa, arms around her knees, and thought. She was quiet for a few minutes and I mentally kicked myself for making her uncomfortable.
“I understand that,” she said gently. “I mean, not the husband bit,” she added with a laugh, “but the not feeling like you’re who you’re supposed to be.”
Katie glanced at me and smirked. “I haven’t felt like I knew who I was since Northampton.” She leaned forward and sighed. “And working with you hasn’t exactly been the easiest thing in the world.”
My chest tightened as I saw the sadness in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I repeated her question.
She shrugged. “I’m…surviving. I guess I’m still struggling to figure out who I am as Kate Masterson, professional photographer,” she said, using air quotes with her title.
“I’m going to say something and hope that it doesn’t piss you off.”
She smirked. “Okay, that’s promising,” she chuckled nervously.
I forced a smile, feeling my heart grow heavier by the minute. “I keep looking for the you I know, but every time I try, I realize that I barely know who you are now,” I whispered. Katie’s face turned guarded, but I continued. “Your office is impersonal. You spend most of your time there—more time than at home, I’m guessing—and there are no decorations, no signs that it’s yours.” I struggled to find the words. “You used to decorate your study carrel in the library even though other people used it, for Christ’s sake. I mean, how many times did you have to replace that damned Yoshi doll? This,” I said meeting her eyes firmly. “It’s weird,” I settled. “I look at you and see a hint of the same Katie I knew, but I don’t know how much to say, when to say it, or how to interact with you because the woman I knew and the woman I work with are two completely different people.”
She kept her eyes fixed on her slippers.
“I guess I’m just wondering what changed.”
She barked out a laugh. “You know the answer to that,” she said bitterly.
I closed my eyes. “I know…I know. But the Katie I knew wouldn’t have let a breakup define her life. Not like this.”
She grimaced. “It was never just a breakup,” she whispered.
I sighed, ignoring the sudden lump in my throat. “No, it wasn’t.” When I let her walk away, I’d felt like I lost everything. This was my first confirmation tha
t she felt the same.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “It’s easier for you. You found someone. You moved on. You were never as invested as I was anyway.”
“How can you say that?”
She glared. “Easy. You turned me down. You walked away. You fucking married a man! It was, what? Two months before you started dating him?”
“It was five,” I hissed.
“Fine then…five whole months and you’d recovered enough to decide to try something completely new and different!”
“Christ, Katie,” I said angrily. “I didn’t leave the house for two weeks after you left. Your sister was the one to get me out of our fucking living room!” I spun and faced her. “If you think I took the breakup well, moved on quickly—then you obviously didn’t know me as well as you thought.”
She paused. “Em went to the house?”
“She used her spare key. You can ask her how she found me—it wasn’t pretty,” I added remembering the day. Em had found me passed out on the living room floor, surrounded by not one but four empty bottles of whiskey. I hadn’t moved or done anything more than drink the pain away for at least a week.
Katie’s face grew shadowed. “Yeah, right,” she said bitterly.
I scoffed. “I’m guessing she never told you about me showing up in New York either,” I spat, immediately regretting the outburst.
Katie looked sad. “She told me you stopped by the gallery,” she squeaked.
I sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Yes, and I thought I’d be able to get you back. That was an utter failure. “I only stayed for a few minutes.” Those few minutes were long enough to see Katie hooking up with another woman in the back room. I’d left immediately. It was clear I wasn’t wanted, so why bother staying?
She blinked rapidly, but didn’t press the topic further. Instead, she sighed and stared at her hands folded in her lap. “It’s easier to just be a mystery,” she whispered. “I try to keep my personal life out of the office.” She paused and laughed. “Well, I did, anyway.”