[2018] Confessions From the Heart

by TB Markinson

  “Not exactly, but if I promise that, will you stay the night?”

  I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head, not willing to dignify the question with an answer.

  Kat’s expression seemed more intrigued than annoyed. “There are some clothing optional establishments.”

  “Shall I ask if this place will let us strip?” I looked around for Antoine.

  “That’s not the point, exactly. You do it with a group.”

  I blew out some air. “Why would I want to see others naked? Let alone eat with them?”

  “For the experience.”

  “Is that something you want to try?”

  “Maybe. If I asked, would you join me?”

  I swallowed.

  “What happened to the woman who’d walk through fire for me? Or the writer willing to sleep with Brooke for the sake of authenticity?” she teased.

  “What happened to the woman who made it clear if we dated, we only had eyes for each other?”

  “I don’t want to eat naked with others for cheap thrills.”

  I stroked my chin. “I’m having a hard time seeing another angle.”

  Kat laughed. “And you accused me earlier of only seeing things in black and white.”

  “When it comes to parts of you, I am.”

  She leaned on her forearms. “Explain.”

  “I don’t want to share the intimacy we have with anyone. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

  “Good,” she said in a way that suggested the naked dining option was permanently off the table.

  “I’m glad you—wait a minute.” I raised a finger in the air. “Did you set me up?”

  “How so?” Kat bit down on the corner of her bottom lip.

  “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

  Innocently, she said, “Not sure I do.”

  “Play nice or no lobster for you.”

  “What about my allergy?” She made quote marks with two mocking index fingers.

  “Want me to tell you where to put those?”

  She hooked her right one. “Pucker up, baby. You might like to let the sun in.”

  I smothered my eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “What I want you to do.”

  A bark of laughter escaped. “And what’s that?”

  “Love me,” she said with earnest honesty.

  I stared into her dark eyes. “I do.”

  She cupped her ear. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  I covered my heart with both hands. “I, Cori Tisdale, love you”—I gestured giving my heart to her—“Kat Finn. Madly.”

  “Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re not jumping from dinner, to professing your love, to marriage before the main course arrives.”

  “Seriously, I can never win with you.” I laughed, not annoyed at all. Movement caught my eye. “Look over your shoulder.”

  She did, unable to contain a squeal accompanied with a handclap.

  “Your lobster, madam.” Antoine set it down in front of her.

  “You do love me, don’t you?” Kat said.

  Antoine, eyes locked on Kat’s, nearly fumbled my veggie-packed ratatouille, recovering with aplomb and disappearing with more grace than I would have in his situation.

  “I think you made his night,” I said.

  “Timing is everything.” She waved to the lobster on her plate. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Your cruel and barbaric treatment of an innocent creature, you mean? Yes. Enjoy.”

  She did.

  After the dishes were cleared, Kat dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I feel slightly guilty, having such an amazing dinner while you only had vegetables.”

  “I like veggies. Besides, watching you really enjoy a meal was the perfect way to spend an evening.”

  “It’s turning into such a magical night.” Kat squeezed my hand.

  “And we haven’t even had dessert yet.” I winked at her.

  She placed her palms down on the table. “No, don’t slip into Jock Cori.”

  I sucked in a deep breath but didn’t have to defend myself as Antoine reappeared bearing a chocolate soufflé with marshmallow ice cream and lemon-poppy almond cake with coconut crème.

  Kat’s cheeks flushed. Aptly she said, “Color me embarrassed.”

  “I have another surprise for you, but it’s not on the menu.”

  Antoine glanced at Kat and then me, appropriately guessing his presence was no longer required.

  “Are you going to share?” she asked when the coast was clear.

  “Maybe.”

  “Is it bigger than a breadbox?” she asked.

  Antoine appeared with espressos. Were they his idea or the chef’s?

  I hoisted one of the tiny cups to my lips. “Two of the stories I submitted at the end of the summer have been accepted. My agent thinks I should submit them, along with the piece already published in The New Yorker this spring, for the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction. You know, to add more writing credits to help secure a book deal,” I said as flippantly as possible so I wouldn’t psyche myself out.

  Her silent mouth formed an embellished O.

  I passed her a napkin. “You have a bit of spittle.” I pointed to the corner of her mouth.

  She blinked.

  Growing concerned, I asked, “Are you okay?”

  “You have an agent?”

  “I do as of today. Well, we haven’t signed the paperwork yet, but—”

  She let loose the loudest whoop I’d ever heard.

  I grinned.

  “Oh… my… God.”

  “Eat up. I want to take my girl dancing to celebrate the next stage in our lives.”

  “Our?”

  “Yes.”

  On the way out of the restaurant, Kat held my hand tightly. At the exit, a silver-haired man held a coat for his absurdly young dining companion. Panicking, I yanked Kat around into my arms and moved us behind a large floral display.

  “You want your thank you now for the nice dinner?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I motioned for her not to speak as I peered around the flowers.

  Roger was nowhere in sight. While Kat knew about the separate bedrooms, I hadn’t intimated a thing concerning Roger’s active social life, knowing she wouldn’t understand. I didn’t either, but my main concern was not being compared to my philandering uncle. Not by Kat. I wanted her in my life, and I feared this could ruin my chances.

  Kat eyed me, her shoulders tense and her expression questioning.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “I don’t know what to think. I’ve never been…”

  Placing a finger on her lips, I said, “If you trust me, you’ll let me explain outside.” I looked over both shoulders to make sure the eagle had left the building.

  She complied without a fight, but her stiff gait wasn’t comforting.

  I surveyed the sidewalk, simultaneously looking for any sign of Roger and a place to explain. There was no sign of my uncle, which was good, but there wasn’t an adequate place for the talk either.

  “What are you looking for? Or who?”

  “Someplace for us to talk.”

  “Why don’t you take me home?” Kat said.

  “What about—?”

  “I’m not in the dancing mood at the moment.” Kat flipped around.

  If I were in a better frame of mind, I would have laughed. Roger, the cheater, wasn’t in hot water. I was.

  Neither of us spoke the entire way home. Outside her apartment, I killed the engine. “So much for celebrating tonight.”

  Kat didn’t speak, let alone smile.

  I got out of the car and ran around to open her door, but she was already halfway to the entrance of her apartment. I trailed, wondering if she’d let me inside to explain.

  Kat unlocked her front door and entered without indi
cating if I should join her. I squeezed inside before she had a chance to slam the door in my face.

  “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

  “Is that your way of saying we’re going to talk until late?”

  “You’re getting quicker. Or have you been playing the dumb jock the entire time so I’ll go easy on you?”

  “You’ve been going easy on me?” I whistled. “I’m not sure I want to see you when being hard.”

  “You’re about to.”

  I ran a hand over my head, sighing. “I really can explain what happened. Please, let me.”

  Kat jerked her head to the table secured to the wall.

  I gathered she wanted me to set it up while she prepped our drinks.

  The coffee didn’t take nearly as long as I wished, and before I was ready, we sat opposite each other.

  “Are you embarrassed of me?” she asked.

  I choked. Coughing behind one hand, I managed to say, “Why would you think that?”

  “Why else would you hide me from whoever was leaving the restaurant the same time as we were? Is that why you reserved the private spot?” Her air quotes came across as menacing.

  I set down the chipped mug. “I wasn’t hiding you.”

  “Seemed like hiding, with the massive flower obstruction.”

  “It was, but I was the one who didn’t want to be seen.”

  “That makes zero sense.” She formed a zero with her index fingers and thumbs.

  “It was Roger.”

  “Your uncle?”

  “I didn’t want him to see me.” I put my fingers to my temple, supporting my head. “I had no idea he’d be there tonight.” Not that he usually let me in about his so-called dates.

  Her face hardened into confusion. “Why in the world not? You adore your family.”

  I slowly released rapid puffs of air.

  Kat gave me time, fortunately, by adding more sugar to her cup.

  “I don’t know how to say this.” I looked at the ceiling. “This isn’t something anyone in the family ever discusses. I mean, even Mom avoids the subject, and that’s saying something.”

  I heard her breathing steady some.

  “Umm…”

  “Would it help if I tried guessing?” she asked in a supportive voice.

  “It may.” I took the cowardly approach by hoisting my mug to hide half of my face.

  “You owe him money?” Her devious smile eased the swirling sensation some.

  I smiled. “Nope.”

  “He owes you money?” She made it sound like this was actually a possibility.

  I scrunched my brow.

  “Right, why would a billionaire borrow money from his niece? Is that it? He’s not a billionaire but a drug dealer or something?”

  “How’d you get to drug dealer?” I laughed.

  “I don’t know. It just doesn’t make any sense. I’m the one who doesn’t get along with family. You dote on yours. So why didn’t you want to bump into Roger on your big night. I mean, it’s like you caught him cheating on Barb or something.” She waved a hand, implying it couldn’t possibly be that. “I know they sleep in separate bedrooms, but they get along so well. I can’t believe Roger would…” She stopped to assess me.

  I had stopped breathing, and I wondered if I was already turning into a blueberry.

  Her relaxed expression slowly dissolved as realization spread across her beautiful face. “Oh my God.”

  I nodded.

  “But he and Barb seem so happy.”

  “They are.” I tossed in, “Mostly.”

  “But… why?” Kat stared down into her coffee as if searching for something to say. “Are you going to tell Barb?”

  “No.”

  “Cori!”

  I expected that response from Kat, who had made it clear from the beginning she didn’t condone cheating. Most didn’t, though. “Again, it’s not what you think.”

  “How can you not tell your aunt that her husband is cheating?”

  “Because that’s Roger. He cheats.” I shrugged, helpless to make her see the way it was with Roger.

  Her mouth opened and closed without any words escaping. She rose and stood on the other side of the room.

  I tapped my fingertips against my coffee mug. “They have an agreement, I think. No one really talks about it, but it’s known. He probably doesn’t see it as cheating. I have no idea what Barbara really thinks. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said this is even taboo for Mom.”

  “Wait? It’s known. In their social circles or in the family?” she asked in a flat voice.

  “Family.”

  “Your parents?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t cheat.”

  “I see. All this time I’ve been trying to figure out why Barb and Roger sleep in separate bedrooms. Yet, the most obvious reason never entered my mind.” She looked to the ceiling.

  I nodded. “And to answer the question you don’t want to ask, I don’t either. Cheat, I mean. Never have and I won’t, Kat. I will never be like Roger. Not like that.”

  “That’s because you run before you can,” she spat out with venom. “Is that how you justify not being a cheater? Not getting embroiled to avoid becoming like Roger?”

  The words stung.

  “I…”

  She crossed her arms, shivering.

  “You’re cold.” I started to rise to go to her but wasn’t sure that was the best action to take.

  “I’m a lot of things right now.” Kat hugged her stomach.

  I nodded, staying put. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “You’ve always known this? About Roger?”

  “Yes,” I said in barely a whisper.

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “I love Roger. I do. But I don’t understand how or why he does it.” I supported my head with my palm.

  “What am I supposed to do with this information?” She patted the top of her head. “I just don’t know what to say or think.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  She hugged her chest tightly, looking at the painting we made the first time I was in her apartment. “I don’t know.”

  That answer was unacceptable, drawing me out of my seat so I could go to Kat and wrap her in my arms. “I’m not Roger.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “I know, but I think he’s part of your problem. All this time, I never realized why you have such a hard time committing to someone. You’re terrified.”

  I kissed the top of her head, my lips quivering.

  She threaded her arms around my waist. “I hate this.”

  “Which part? Knowing about Roger or my running problem, as you put it?”

  “Both.”

  “I can’t change Roger, but…”

  “Yes?” There was a hint of hope.

  “If you let me stay here, right now, I’ll be here in the morning. I will never leave you again.”

  She groaned, unconvinced. “Don’t promise that unless you truly mean it.”

  I gripped her hand and led us to where her bed should be. She yanked it down with her left hand, not letting me go with her other.

  “Not that I don’t trust you, but would you mind taking off all your clothes and handing them over along with your shoes?”

  “Do you want the car keys as well?” I joked, undoing my belt.

  Kat unfurled her hand. “Great idea.”

  “You really think I’ll do a runner? After all this?”

  “Not if you don’t have any clothes or mode of transportation. Give me your phone as well.”

  I examined her face for signs of guilt. There was none. “Will you get naked with me?”

  “I don’t run.” She placed a hand on her chest.

  “True, but that’s not my reason for wanting you naked.” I handed her my trousers.

  She motioned I wasn’t done getting undressed. “I’m not sure I’m i
n the mood tonight.”

  “That hurts.” I unbuttoned my blouse.

  “Can you blame me?” Her voice hit a crescendo I’d never heard from her or anyone.

  “I don’t want sex—”

  She interrupted, “Since when?”

  “I want to know what it feels like to have your body against mine when I fall asleep and when I wake.”

  “Have you ever woken with a woman before?” Kat slipped off a red stiletto heel.

  “Not one I was in love with.” I flung my bra on her head.

  “My, aren’t you a sweet talker? And don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t answer the question.” She flicked my bra off her face.

  “Stop jawing. Get naked. Now.” I added, “I want to know everything I’ve been missing with you.”

  The next morning, I woke with a smile on my face. Wanting to surprise Kat, I quietly got out of bed and rummaged in the kitchen for ingredients to make breakfast. What, though? The woman didn’t have any cereal, which was about the only meal I could manage, along with sliced fruit and yogurt.

  “What are you doing?” She sat up on the bed, the covers still over the lower half of her body.

  “Making you breakfast,” I said as boldly as I could, considering I had nothing to show for my efforts. “Do you have a cookbook or something?” My eyes scanned the spotless counter.

  “You don’t know how to make pancakes?”

  “Do you have the add water, shake, and pour type?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then, no.”

  “French toast?”

  “Never tried. I’m a breakfast bar on the train kind of gal. Sometimes I treat myself to a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

  “Interesting for a former athlete.” Kat motioned with her finger for me to come back to bed. “You’re cute, you know that?”

  “Because I’m hopeless in the kitchen?” I slinked onto the bed.

  “I’ve never known a grown woman to admit to eating Lucky Charms.” She tapped my forehead with a finger.

  “Seriously. The little marshmallow things are the bomb as long as you don’t let them get soggy. That’s the key to their magical deliciousness.” I snuggled into her open arms.

  “Do you like French toast?”

  “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”

  She started to get up.

  “Wait.” I pulled her arm gently. “Why don’t I take us out for breakfast?”