Calendar Girl

by Georgia Beers

  Addison allotted herself five minutes to sit and…do whatever it was she was doing. Wallowing? Being sad? Feeling self-pity? She didn’t know and she didn’t like it but allowed it to run its course. To combat it, she mentally cataloged everything she had left to get done today and calculated that she’d be in the office until at least 8:00. Fairly typical.

  And then a laugh bubbled up from deep inside her as she recalled the conversation only minutes ago. How the hell was she supposed to find a date in less than three weeks when she worked well past dinner most nights of the week and often on weekends? It would be impossible. Not to mention, she hadn’t had an actual date in, what was it now? Over a year? Closer to two?

  I think it would be good for people to see you with someone on your arm.

  Her mother’s words echoed through her head. That had to mean something. Didn’t it? People were more trusting of somebody with a spouse or partner. That was a fact. It was a big part of why her mother and father had stayed married even though their relationship had dwindled down to just being friends and her father lived in their Florida home year-round, flying back to make appearances when necessary.

  “Goddamnit,” Addison muttered as she put the car in gear and headed back to the office, doing her best to shove all of this out of her head for at least a little while.

  Inside the front door to Fairchild Rentals, three Office Max bags sat in front of Janie’s desk. Janie had her coat on and was gathering her things, and she smiled at Addison.

  “Katie dropped that off. She wasn’t sure where it all went, and I told her I’d take care of it in the morning. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” Addison said, and forced a smile she didn’t feel. Her disappointment at not seeing Katie again today was something she almost tangibly felt, like little unpleasant pinpricks to her skin.

  “Have a good night,” Janie called after her.

  Addison made a conscious effort to smile and actually give a response as she moved past Janie’s desk, recalling her mother’s comment about her being distant. She waved over her shoulder as she walked by and called, “You, too,” but what she really wanted to do was sprint to her office, slam the door shut, and hole up in it for the foreseeable future. Once there, she shed her coat, dropped her purse on the floor, and tried to ignore the fact that she could somehow smell Katie lingering in the air, a mix of citrus—lime?—and something else mouthwatering yet subtle. She flopped into her chair like her body was suddenly boneless as all the air left her lungs. She felt deflated.

  She missed Katie.

  What the hell was she supposed to do about that? Because one thing was clear: she had to do something.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hi, Katie-cat. How was your day?”

  Her father’s words almost brought Katie to tears as she walked through the front door, he sounded so…normal. His blue eyes were clear, he’d been shaved so he looked less unkempt than she was getting used to, and he was smiling at her. Smiling. Like his old self.

  She simply stood in the entryway and blinked at him.

  Thank God her mother was on the ball and breezed into the room to save them from awkward silence. “Hi, honey. How are you?” She took Katie’s coat and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ve had a really good day today.”

  That would have been obvious even without Liz saying so, because even she looked relaxed. She was showered, dressed in jeans and a tank with a flannel shirt over it, hanging open. Her eyes were sparkling, and she looked exceptionally less tense than usual.

  “I see that,” Katie said, then crossed to her father and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad one of us did.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Hi, Daddy.”

  Liz made a sound of sympathy with her tongue and hung Katie’s coat up in the closet. “You’re home earlier than usual.”

  It was true. She’d bailed at 4:30. She shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t handle facing Addison again with her brain as muddled as it was. She needed to time to sit. To absorb. To marinate. Because seriously? That kiss?

  God. That kiss…

  “Did something happen?”

  Katie was yanked back to the present by the concern in her mother’s voice, and she forced a small smile. “It’s fine, Mom. I just needed to come home.” When it looked like her mother might press for more, she smoothly changed the subject by sniffing the air. “What smells so good?”

  “Pot roast,” her father said, still with the smile.

  Katie looked at her mother, who shrugged and said softly, “I know.”

  “Do I have time to change?” Katie asked, looking down at her shirt. “I’ve had strawberry jam on me all day long.”

  “I hope that was one of the twins and not just you.” Her mother winked.

  “Ha ha. I have no trouble finding my mouth, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve been watching you eat for twenty-nine years.” Liz tugged on a hunk of Katie’s hair. “Go change. Dinner’s in about an hour.” She went to sit by her husband, reached out, and took his hand as they watched some show about log cabins. Katie watched them for a beat, her heart warm.

  Allowing herself a few minutes to just bask in her family was something Katie had to do on days like this. She wasn’t fooled, though. She wasn’t delusional. She knew this wouldn’t last, especially now that it was evening. That’s when her dad always went downhill. Sundowning, they called it. He was more lucid in the mornings, and much less so in the evening and at night, so his clarity right now was kind of amazing. She wanted to stay there, to sit in his lap and talk to him, but the image of her parents sitting like they used to before he got sick was too precious. She couldn’t take that from her mother—she saw so much of the bad and so little of the good. Katie smiled at them, then headed upstairs to change into her My Day Was Crap sweats and take off her godforsaken bra.

  Her phone pinged a notification of an incoming text as she pulled her sweats on. It was Sam.

  Hey, you. Home yet?

  Katie typed back. Yep.

  Good day?

  Katie stood topless in her room as her fingers poked out a response. Meh.

  Crap sweats?

  Katie sent back a smiley and a thumbs up. You know me so well.

  Time to chat?

  She loved talking to Sam. She really did. But right then, she didn’t want to miss any more time with her dad while he was actually…there. Not at the moment. Dad time. She knew Sam would get it. Maybe later or in the a.m.?

  Sam agreed, and Katie tossed her phone onto her nightstand to charge, then headed back downstairs.

  The almost-normal lasted for a good forty-five minutes longer before her father began to show signs of fading. They weren’t drastic, which Katie thanked God for. They were just that—a fading, like he was slowly disappearing. He got quieter. His eyes seemed less sharply focused. He blinked a lot. Still, Katie and her mother were able to enjoy dinner with him just like old times. He ate and smiled and tossed a roll at Katie like he always used to.

  And they laughed.

  God, how long had it been since they’d laughed?

  Katie cleaned up the kitchen when it was time to take her father upstairs to wash up and get him settled into his room. Forcing herself to embrace the positive aspects of the evening rather than rail against the unfairness of the disease, she let herself bask. And remember. And smile. And…breathe. She was going to lose her father completely. But not tonight.

  It was almost an hour later when her mother came down and blew out a breath of relief. Katie had brewed a pot of coffee and was pouring two mugs as Liz pulled out a kitchen chair and dropped into it.

  “Thanks for cleaning up,” she said.

  “Of course. How is he?”

  “Watching some fishing show on TV. He never watched that kind of thing before.”

  “Fishing shows?” Katie set the mugs on the table and took a seat opposite her mom.

  “Fishing shows. Hunting shows. Poker tournaments. Old kung-fu movies.”


  “And hockey.” Katie chuckled.

  “Right. Can’t forget the hockey.”

  “He’s a man’s man.”

  “He is now.” They laughed and then Liz took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving Katie’s face. She set her mug down, propped her chin in her hand, and studied her. Katie shifted under the gaze, unable to stop herself. “What’s up?” Liz asked softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  Tipping her head to one side, Liz raised an eyebrow.

  Katie sighed. “I hate it when you do that.”

  “Do what?” Feigned innocence and a smothered grin.

  “See right through me like I’m made of Plexiglas.”

  “I’m your mother. It’s my job.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “So? You gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or just sigh some more?”

  Katie sighed again.

  “Funny. You’ve been a little off since you got home, and I don’t think it’s because of your father.”

  Katie didn’t hide things from her mother. Never in her life. Not even her sexuality. Her mom had always made a safe, loving space for her to be honest and open, and just the thought of not telling her something important made Katie’s insides churn unpleasantly, like she’d had too much lemonade on an empty stomach. “It was a weird day,” she finally said.

  “How so? The twins?”

  “No. No, the twins were the twins, strawberry jam aside.”

  “Your afternoon job, then?”

  Katie nodded.

  “With the boss lady?” When Katie gave her a wide-eyed look of surprise, Liz said, “Allow me to point out once again that I am your mother and I know you like nobody ever will. Also, I can read you like a book and I’ve always known when you’ve found a woman attractive.” She began to tick off on her fingers. “Your freshman English teacher. Your volleyball coach. That camp counselor. Your RA in college…”

  Katie groaned and dropped her head down onto the table with a thud.

  Liz chuckled quietly and reached across to tousle Katie’s hair. “Listen. I’m stuck here all day with a man who sometimes knows me and other times is a nine-year-old. Let me live vicariously. Tell me the story.”

  Turning her head slightly so she could squint up at her mother from the surface of the kitchen table, Katie wrinkled her nose. “Fine.” She stood up and went to the cupboard above the refrigerator. “I’m gonna need something more than cream in my coffee.” Pulling down a bottle of Baileys, she opened it and poured some into her mug. Eyebrows raised in question, she held it up.

  “Gimme.”

  Katie sat back down and they both sipped their much stronger coffees, Katie looking at hers as fortification. Then she met her mother’s gaze and held it for a beat. Two beats. Three, before she simply blurted it out. Said the words out loud for the first time. “Addison kissed me. Addison kissed me today.”

  Liz stopped with her mug halfway to her lips. She blinked. Stared. Stayed perfectly still for several long seconds before saying very softly, “Oh, my.”

  “Right?”

  “Well. That is…unexpected.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Liz cleared her throat and looked at Katie. “Like…a quick peck? On the cheek? Or the lips?”

  “Oh, it was on the lips and there was nothing quick peckish about it.”

  “I see.” Liz sipped again. “And? How did this transpire?”

  Katie wet her lips and then told her mother about the shift in Addison’s demeanor from last week to this, how she seemed to go back and forth in the mood department, friendly and almost warm one day, cold and distant the next. Smiling as she recalled working on the couch at Addison’s loft, she told her mother how much they’d gotten done those few days, how easy they’d been with each other. The smile slid off her face as she talked about the first few moments with Addison that afternoon. “And…I blew up at her.” Katie wrinkled her nose.

  Liz made that face she’d always made when Katie did something she’d known better than to do. “Katie.”

  “I know, I know. But I couldn’t help it.” With a grimace, Katie shifted her gaze to the back door, gazed out the window even though the darkness had settled in and she could only see the kitchen reflected back at her. “We had such a bad night with Dad, and I got very little sleep and the twins were fine, but they can still be exhausting, and then I got to Addison’s office and she could barely look at me and then rattled off all these mundane chores for me and I couldn’t take it. I just couldn’t. I let her have it.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her I didn’t understand her.”

  “And then?”

  “And then she marched across the room, grabbed my face, and kissed me.” Katie was completely comfortable talking about intimate things with her mother; they’d always had a great, very open relationship. But this felt…different somehow. The way Addison’s kiss had made her feel, the longing it had stirred in her, the way she’d wanted it to go on and on, how it had felt to put her own hands on Addison and pull her closer. It all felt so…intimate. So private. Something Katie wanted to hold close for a while, guard, keep possession of, so she didn’t go into more detail.

  “Wow.” Liz sipped her coffee, and Katie could tell she was sifting through all the things she wanted to say. She’d always been one to think carefully before she spoke. Unlike her daughter. “Rather…inappropriate.”

  Katie tipped her head to one side, then the other. She hadn’t really thought about that aspect of it. But she quickly dismissed it. “Yeah, I guess it would’ve been if I hadn’t kissed her back.”

  “Ah.” Another sip. Another moment of silence. “What are you going to do now?”

  Katie sighed loudly and shook her head, remembering how badly she’d needed to get out of Addison’s office, away from her before it was impossible. But she also remembered how much she’d wanted to stay, to explore that warm, soft mouth some more, to let her hands wander the peaks and valleys of what lay beneath those very expensive, very professional business clothes. “I don’t know. I don’t want to lose this job. The pay is ridiculous and we need it.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Liz set her mug down and looked pointedly at Katie. “I noticed a couple of bills missing.”

  Katie lifted her mug to her lips and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” before taking a sip.

  Liz’s expression softened. “Honey. I don’t need you to do that.”

  “Mom. I love you. I do. But yes, you do need me to do that. I want to help where I can. Let me. That’s why I took this job. Okay?”

  Liz didn’t look happy about the situation and she didn’t nod or say anything in the affirmative. Instead she inhaled slowly, then exhaled at the same speed before she spoke again. “I think I’m going to hire a home health aide.” She said it quietly, her gaze fixed on her coffee. Then she grabbed the bottle of Baileys and splashed more into her mug.

  Liz’s face made it very clear it wasn’t a decision she liked. She was fiercely independent and liked to think of herself as able to handle a lot more than she actually could. Or should. So Katie knew she had to step carefully, even if she thought this was a fabulous idea. Which she did.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Mom.” Katie kept her voice low, kept most of the enthusiasm out of it, as she reached across the table and covered her mother’s hand with her own. “His insurance should cover at least some of that, right?”

  “A good chunk of it, yes.”

  “Good. Good.” As if on cue, they could suddenly hear footsteps clomping around above them, then a slamming door. When their tandem gazes shifted from the ceiling back down to each other, Katie said, “I think it will be good for you to get a break every now and then. You can’t do this twenty-four hours a day, Mom. It’ll wreck you.” They were hard words to say, as Katie realized she was basically telling her mother to let go of the love of her life a little bit. And they both knew that a little bit of letting go could very w
ell lead to a little bit more. And a little bit more. And a little bit more, especially as David became less and less himself and more and more of a stranger.

  A crash sounded from above. Liz sat up straight as if bolstering herself.

  “I got it,” Katie said.

  “No, honey—” Liz held out a hand, but Katie stood.

  “Mom. You’ve been here all day. Just sit here and drink your Baileys.” She winked to try to lighten the mood. “I got this.”

  Upstairs, Katie could feel herself mentally bracing, her usual routine and automatic preparation for dealing with her father. “Dad?” she called quietly. His room was empty, the television still on and showing a ball-capped man pulling a swordfish out of the ocean with his fishing rod. Down the hall a bit more, the bathroom door was closed, and a sliver of light shone under it. “Dad?” She knocked lightly on the door, then pressed her ear against it to listen.

  The door opened so quickly that it startled a little yelp out of Katie. Her father shoved past her, literally, and her back hit the wall of the hallway with a thud. With determined steps, he marched down the hall and back into his room.

  Katie caught her breath, swallowed the surprise, and followed him. When she reached the doorway to his room, he was back in bed and seemingly riveted to the TV “Everything okay?” she asked him.

  He turned to look at her, his blue eyes utterly blank. Katie felt the lump form in her throat.

  “It’s Katie-cat, Dad.”

  He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but she’d take it. “Katie-cat.”

  “You okay?”

  He nodded once, then turned back to the fisherman.

  Katie watched him for another moment before turning away and heading to her own room. She needed a minute. She also needed this day to be over. She’d had so much more than enough.