by Lori L. Otto
“She’s a civil rights lawyer,” I fill in the blanks for her. “She gets to do some pretty amazing work.”
“I would imagine so,” Mom says, looking at her with interest. Kiersten just nods and smiles.
This is going to be a long night. I’m not sure where I left my well-spoken, outgoing, confident girlfriend, but I wish I could go find her and bring her here. Now.
About halfway through our appetizer course, Mom gives up trying to pull information out of her. She begins asking questions that are directed solely at me.
“Nathan, you haven’t mentioned Emily lately,” she starts. “How is she doing these days?”
“I’m not sure, Mom,” I say quickly. “Hey, didn’t you say you were doing that cancer walk this weekend? Are you ready for it?” I change the subject with the first thing that comes to mind.
“That was last weekend,” she says with a strange smile. “Remember? You and Emi signed up to walk with me months ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess we forgot to put it on our calendars. Did James go? Or your friends?”
“No,” she answers. “Just Emi. We had a nice talk.”
We glare at one another from across the table. It’s as if Kiersten isn’t even there. Before the dessert course, my date excuses herself to go to the ladies room.
“Mom, why are you doing this? If you talked to Emi, you must know what’s going on.”
“That’s just it, Nate,” my mother says, wrinkling her nose. “I have no idea what’s going on. That’s what I want to find out.”
“No, we’re not discussing this tonight. This night is about Kiersten. You know it took a lot for me to introduce you two.”
“And I’m honored, really, I am,” she says. “But she’s nothing like I imagined she would be.”
“She’s really nervous, for some reason,” I explain. “She really is amazing… she’s all the things I’ve told you. Maybe it just takes her awhile to warm up to people. And all this talk about Emi isn’t helping… ”
She glares at me, her eyes full of worry. “Why do you think she is so threatened by your relationship with her?”
“She’s not threatened,” I tell her, shifting my eyes from hers. “She’s had some really bad relationships in the past. It’s not Emi that bothers her.”
“That’s not how Emi sees it.”
“I’m not talking about this with you. Just give Kiersten a chance. You’ll like her.”
“I don’t know,” she hedges. “Anyone who demands you stay away from your best friend–”
“She isn’t demanding me to,” I correct her. “I’ve chosen this. Emi and I have been drifting apart for months, anyway, and it’s only going to get worse… it’s just complicated.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m going to be so busy with this job, and she’s really busy, too. We’re just going to kind of do our own things for awhile. I think it will be good to put a little distance between us.”
“So it’s just temporary?” she asks.
“Yeah, I guess,” I shrug.
“Well, she seems to think it’s pretty permanent,” she says to me.
“If Kiersten and I stay together… it may be more permanent, I don’t know,” I tell her. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
“Nate, she’s your best friend,” she reminds me. “I find this a little strange.”
I see Kiersten coming back from the restroom. “This is none of your concern. No more talk of Emi in front of Kiersten,” I whisper. Mom raises an eyebrow, seething at me with disappointment. I know she can see right through me.
“Well, then I guess I don’t have much more to say. Honey,” my mother says to Kiersten as she pushes her chair back abruptly and stands up, “it was a pleasure to meet you.” She turns her attention to me. “I’m sorry I have to run, but James is waiting at home.”
“Of course,” I respond, glaring at her in disbelief. It’s one thing for Kiersten to be completely unsocial because her nerves have gotten the best of her. It’s another thing entirely for my mother to so rudely excuse herself before the meal is even complete.
“When do you leave, Nathan?” she asks.
“Two days.”
“Well, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She gives me a peck on the cheek and nods to Kiersten.
“Goodbye.”
“Bye,” Kiersten and I say in unison.
“I am so sorry about my mother,” I tell her. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with her.”
“She didn’t like me,” Kiersten laughs. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.”
“It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” I say. “I don’t think she really got a chance to know you. Really, you had nothing to be so nervous about.”
“She’s very intimidating,” she tells me. “The way she was looking at me… was like she was… I don’t know… judging me.”
I scoff at the idea. “She was just trying to read you, that’s all… she’s not judgmental at all. Besides, there’s nothing about you to judge. You’re perfect.” I lean over to kiss her, but she backs away.
“Can we leave?” she asks, clearly irritated.
“Sure, let me get the check.”
After we get to my apartment, I do my best to persuade her that my mother did, in fact, like her, and that she has nothing to worry about. I know that Mom will eventually grow to like her, and that Kiersten will eventually warm up to her. I’m not worried about it at all. It’s just a matter of time. Once I think I’ve eased her mind, I take her hand and pull her to the bed.
“I’m not really in the mood,” she says stubbornly.
“But we only have two more nights together,” I remind her.
“Really, Nate,” she states firmly. “I’m not.”
“Okay, Kiersten,” I concede. “Tomorrow… ”
“I think I’d like to go home tonight,” she says.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she smiles. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
“Let me get my keys.”
“No, I’ll get a cab, don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay then. I’ll miss you,” I tell her before my lips find hers, my hand on her cheek.
She smiles. “Good night.”
“Bye.”
~ * ~
I’ve got a ton of last-minute things to take care of today. My flight is at ten-thirty tomorrow morning, so everything has to get wrapped up this afternoon. As I’m doing laundry and packing a few last things, someone knocks on my door.
“Honey, it’s me,” my mother says. I sigh heavily.
“Hello, Mom,” I open the door to greet her, my teeth clenched.
“Nathan,” she starts. “I don’t get a good feeling about her.”
“Mom, she’s amazing. I’ve told you that. She was just nervous.”
“Well,” she continues, not skipping a beat, “what’s going on with Emi?”
“I told you–”
“You told me we can’t discuss it. Emi told me you were ordered to stay away from her.”
“It really wasn’t Emi’s place to tell you anything,” I roll my eyes, resenting my friend for getting my mother involved in our fight.
“So you were then?”
“No, Mom,” I stutter. If my flawed speech doesn’t give me away, the lack of eye-contact does. “It’s for the best, okay?”
“Do you really believe that, Nate? You feel good enough about Kiersten to leave Emi behind forever?”
“You don’t know her, Mom,” I warn.
“Is she insecure because she senses that there is something more to your relationship with Emi?”
“Mom, you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think I have more of an idea than you want to admit. I hate to think that you’re dumping your best friend for this woman.”
; “I really like this woman, Mom.”
“But you don’t love her, do you, Nathan?” she asks me, in a soothing tone that only a caring mother can deliver. Strangely enough, it’s the first time I’ve realized I’ve never told Kiersten I loved her outside of my typical, uncontrolled outburst at the height of passion. And she’s never said it to me, either. Do we love one another?
“You love Emi.” My mother’s words shock me. My heart skips a beat as I stop breathing. I just stare at her, searching for something… an answer, maybe. An explanation for her assumption. I just shake my head. “You do.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her as I begin to lose my composure. I pace the room, throwing items into boxes haphazardly. “I can’t. I can’t let myself feel that way. She doesn’t love me. She will never love me. I can’t keep holding out for her. I’ve got to move on. I have moved on.” It feels strangely cathartic to admit this aloud, feelings I’ve kept bottled up for too long.
“Nate… ”
“Mom, just stop!” I shout. “Kiersten will warm up to you. You’ll love her once she lets her guard down. She’s good for me, you have to trust my judgment… my decision.”
“Why would I love her when you don’t?” she asks.
“It’s not that I don’t. I just… ” I don’t know what to say.
“Just think about it, Nathan,” she insists. “That’s all I’m asking. Think about what you’re doing to Emily. Think about what you’re doing to yourself, honey. You just admitted–”
“I admitted nothing. I said I’ve moved on. My future is with Kiersten.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “Emi is my past.” The statement sounds foreign coming out of my mouth. I turn around to hide my watering eyes and swallow the lump in my throat.
“I love her,” I sigh, defeated.
“You love who?” she whispers.
I love her. I love her. When I think those words, what image do I see? Who is the “her” in that sentence? It’s her. It’s always been her. It’s not possible for it to be love for anyone else, because any form of “love” I’ve felt for other women has been a mere fraction of how I feel about Emi.
I love Emi. And apparently I’m fooling no one but myself.
My mother stands silently behind me. I feel suddenly weak, dizzy. I find the nearest chair and sit down, putting my head between my knees to breathe heavily.
“Nathan, I think you two could make it work.”
“Mom, please go.”
“Just think about it. And call me when you get to LA.” I nod my head again before allowing it to fall in my hands. Mom wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. I squeeze her hands in mine before she leaves. Once the door closes behind her, I blink the lingering tears from my eyes.
What does she mean, she thinks we could make it work? Has Emi told her something?
My last night in New York, and I’m planning to spend it with Kiersten. With a woman I’ve chosen over the girl I love. It doesn’t make sense to me. It shouldn’t be this way.
But at this point, it is this way. There are so many changes happening in my life that I don’t know if tonight is the night to make any more big decisions. I decide to just go with my original plans, and let the night unfold how it will. Why hurt her tonight? The long distance will naturally erode what little relationship we really have.
Picking up the meal we had ordered, I walk the rest of the way to Kiersten’s place. I had earlier called my usual florist and cancelled the arrangement I had requested yesterday, but I pick up a simple bouquet of flowers from a street vender a block away from her apartment and carry it with me. She meets me downstairs, graciously taking the flowers from me and guiding me upstairs. She’s dressed up for our last night together and her mood is nothing like it was after our disastrous dinner date with Mom.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her once we’re behind closed doors.
“You like this?” she asks, showing off the short dress.
“I do,” I smile, gathering the hem of her skirt in my hands and pulling her to me. Her fingers scraping my scalp, relaxing me, we kiss slowly. I sigh into her embrace. It does feel good to be with her, I can’t deny that.
“I bought it for you,” she whispers. “I want tonight to be memorable for us. It’s got to last awhile, right?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Let’s put our salads in the fridge for now, and start out with a different kind of appetizer. How’s that sound?” She takes slow, deliberate steps into the kitchen. I walk up behind her as she leans into the refrigerator, wrapping my arms around her.
“I can’t argue with that,” I tell her. I push her hair aside as she stands tall in front of me and place a kiss on her neck; another on her shoulder. She grips the counter as I press her against it, letting my lips travel down her back as I unbutton the dress. She picks up her skirt to reveal a string bikini. “Is that for me, too?” I run my hands over her warm skin.
“It’s for you to take off,” she confirms.
“Mmmm, sexy,” I hum against her skin. On any other occasion– hell, every other occasion– I would have taken that string in my fist and snapped the garment off of her, but for some reason, I’m not quite as ready to go as I typically am. I slow down and concentrate more on Kiersten.
“I want you to take me like this,” she whispers over her shoulder.
“I have other ideas,” I explain, turning her around and making my way down her body. When I reach my destination, she doesn’t object. She braces herself with her elbows on the countertop and her hands holding on tightly to my hair. Her legs weaken, shake, her voice needy as she calls out my name.
“Oh, god, Nate,” she gasps as she pulls on my jacket, signaling for me to stand up.
“You liked that, huh?” I ask, my fingers lingering. She holds one of her hands against mine as her other one finds its way to the front of my pants. I can feel my cheeks blush. I close my eyes and look down, embarrassed and not quite sure what to say.
“You’ve got a lot going on,” Kiersten breaks the silence kindly. “It’s understandable. I bet I can make things better.” I lean my forehead against hers and pull her skirt back down, kissing her sweetly.
“Let’s have dinner,” I suggest instead. “My head is just swimming in details. We’ll get back to that.”
She runs her hand down my body once more before agreeing to my plan.
We grab the salads out of the refrigerator and Kiersten pours us both some Italian soda. After I sit down, Kiersten rearranges the plates so that she’s in the seat next to me instead of across from me. Her foot plays with mine. I lean down to kiss her before eating. She props herself on her elbow, watching me with a smile while she takes a few bites of her salad. She runs her hand through my hair.
“So, Donna talks to Emi a lot, huh?” she asks. Emi’s the last person I want to think about right now.
“She’s like the daughter she never had. They have their own relationship that doesn’t really involve me.”
“Well,” Kiersten says, spearing a cherry tomato with her fork and feeding it to me. “It seems like Emi’s trying to make your mom choose sides, if you ask me.”
“No,” I assure her, blowing off the accusation. “Mom just likes to be involved in my life. She gets a lot of the scoop from Em, that’s all. They talk, I can’t stop that,” I laugh. They’d been friends on their own accord for so long, I never considered how their relationship would suffer. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to ask them to stop. “I can’t make them not talk.”
“I think if Donna knew how much it bothered you, she would stop talking to her.”
That’s going on the assumption that it bothers me. It doesn’t. I shrug my shoulders in response.
“I mean, if she was a good mother… ”
“She is,” I assert. “You’re right,” I concede. I’m sure my mother would stop, but I would never ask that of her.
“Well maybe you can talk to her once you get settled in LA.” She kisses m
y chin, then pulls my face to hers to kiss my lips. Her hand wanders to my lap. I drop my fork loudly, wrapping my arms around her and trying to put all of my energy into our embrace. I’m relieved when her fingers find their way back to my hair, since another part of me doesn’t seem to want to cooperate right now.
“Come to bed,” she says, standing and taking my hand in hers. “Let me make you forget everything.”
“I’m not sure what’s happening,” I apologize to her.
“Shhhh,” she says soothingly. “Just lie down.” I willingly comply, allowing her to unfasten the buttons on my shirt. I watch as she makes a production out of each of them, one by one. Her knees on either side of my legs, I trace circles in her skin just beneath her skirt. She leans into me and kisses my temple, then playfully sucks on my earlobe. Typically, this one little move arouses me instantly, but it doesn’t tonight. Kiersten undoubtedly notices as she shifts above me, pulling her dress over her head.
Her hands make their way down my bare chest. She undoes my pants and allows her hand to travel beneath my clothing, even though I nervously try to stop her. “It’s okay,” she assures me as she begins to rub gently. Moving her hands to unclasp her bra, her hips continue to move over me. There is still no reaction.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, leaning up to caress her breasts, attempting to coerce something to happen… and hiding what isn’t.
“Lay back,” she says as she hovers over me on her hands and knees. She kisses my lips, then my neck, chest… her hands remove my pants first. She leans in, kisses my navel.
Still nothing. Clearly, this isn’t working.
“This is embarrassing,” I finally say out loud.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind,” she reminds me. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Why don’t we talk about things?” She stays positioned on top of me, ready to feel something happen– if and when it does.
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
She tries to be subtle in her attempt to arouse me, her hips moving slowly against me. Her eyes lock with mine, her expression perplexed.
“Emi,” she answers, her head cocked slightly. She leans over me again, her breasts touching my chest, her tongue tracing my jawline, then my lips. I close my eyes, imagine her, the last time I saw her. The anger in her eyes… fueled by passion… the sadness. She was on the verge of tears. Her eyes grew greener.