Bitter Sweet Revenge

by Donna Jay

  “Speaking of attitudes, I admire yours.”

  “How so?” Gillian sipped on her strawberry milkshake.

  While pondering how to word what she wanted to say, Katie took a swig of her caramel shake. Damn, it tasted good. Too good.

  She could go for another one but wouldn’t. She had binged for weeks after the attack and never wanted to go down that road of self-hatred again.

  She took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t offend Gillian. “You yourself said you know what it’s like to be teased, yet you seem so confident. Always smiling and joking. I admire that. I still find it hard at times to like myself.”

  A small smile crinkled the corners of Gillian’s eyes. “You know, Katie. I had the best parents a girl could ask for. When my mum gave birth to a wee girl with tufts of hair the colour of a fireball, apparently the entire birthing unit gasped in shock.”

  Mesmerized, Katie sat up straighter. “Why?” She wiggled to the left when a knot in the tree trunk stabbed her between the shoulder blades.

  “Neither of my parents have red hair. Mum’s is dark blonde, similar to the colour of yours. Dad’s is dark brown. My brothers, who came along years later, were born with blond hair which has darkened over the years. I’ve been assured I’m not adopted.”

  The implications of what she said made Katie’s eyebrows shoot up.

  Gillian chuckled. “Yeah that’s another one I had to endure, ‘Are you adopted? Did your mother shag someone else?’”

  “But neither applied?” Katie searched Gillian’s eyes, praying she was right.

  “Correct. After going back three or four generations, my parents discovered my red hair was a throwback.” She curled a lock of said red hair around her finger, and Katie wished she was that finger.

  She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to shut out images of Gillian’s fiery red hair caressing her skin. When she opened them again, Gillian was eyeing her curiously.

  “You look a little flushed, are you okay?”

  Katie smiled. “I’m fine. Tell me the rest.” She could listen to Gillian all day. The woman fascinated her.

  “My parents don’t suffer fools lightly. If I ever went home upset, they propped me back up, told me I was beautiful inside and out, that I was blessed with a big heart, two arms and legs, eyes and ears that worked, and hair people were envious of. Anyone who said otherwise was jealous. Something clicked, comments bounced off me, and I became ‘that girl.’” She finger quoted the words.

  Rather than take a stab at what that meant, Katie asked, “What girl?”

  “The girl who friended those less fortunate and shunned those who didn’t deserve my friendship.”

  “Wow, that takes guts.”

  Grinning, Gillian uncrossed her ankles and spread her legs ever so slightly. “Having brass balls helped.”

  “Touché.” Katie chuckled, in awe of Gillian’s ability to turn what could’ve been taken as a slur into a joke…one put right back on the person who tossed out the comment.

  “Tell me more,” Katie said, mesmerised.

  Gillian’s expression turned thoughtful. She stared straight ahead as if searching her memory bank.

  “I friended every so-called uncool kid that I could. But every one of them was beautiful to me. Special. Not a bad bone in their bodies. Not in the literal sense anyway. Tom was wheelchair bound. Everyone gave him a wide berth, and not because of the chair. People called him the cripple like he didn’t know.”

  “That’s awful,” Katie said, her heart going out to a boy she’d never met.

  “It never got to Tom. He used to zoom down the corridor shouting ‘make way for the cripple’ and people would jump out of his way. When the boys had to get in the pool in their speedos, he’d sit in his chair mocking them that it wasn’t that cold, so they must have really small…”

  Katie held up her hands. “Don’t say it.”

  “Minds,” Gillian finished, as if that was what she’d been going to say all along.

  Chuckling, Katie shook her head. “Go on.”

  “Then there was Andrea. She was the sweetest wee thing. My best friend.”

  Was? Did she die? Katie was too scared to ask.

  “She was a little person,” Gillian continued. “I remember her first day at intermediate. She walked into the classroom, barely three-feet-tall and larger than life. She couldn’t hide who she was, so she owned it. She introduced herself, stating ‘My name is Andrea and I have dwarfism.

  But that’s not who I am. I like to read and write and do all the same things as you guys. I might be short in stature, but I’m not short on feelings. If anyone has anything to say, now’s your chance.’

  “The entire class just looked at her. I put my hand up and said, ‘what’s your favourite colour?’ She eyed me up and down and replied ‘ginger.’ From that day on we were thick as thieves. My folks adored her. Two years later, her parents up and moved. She had to go through the same routine every time she changed schools. Her dad worked on the railways, so they moved about a lot.”

  Unable to even begin to imagine the strength it took to stand up and address an entire class of peers, Katie stared at Gillian in wide-eyed wonder. “Was she ever picked on?”

  “No, not really. Some kids tittered behind her back, but it was as if putting them on the spot from day one took away their need to, I don’t know, taunt her? Ask lame questions?”

  “Do you keep in touch?”

  “Of course. She’s my number one penfriend.” Gillian’s eyes lit up. “But enough about me. Tell me about your friends?”

  Not wanting to sound like a total outcast, Katie stuck to the facts. “My best friend at school was my brother. I hung out with him and his friends. Played bull-rush and tag with the best of them.”

  “Ooh, a tomboy.”

  “Something like that.” Katie chuckled. “Don’t go getting too big for your britches or I’ll tackle you and pin you to the ground.”

  Desire flashed in Gillian’s eyes. She held Katie’s gaze but didn’t utter a word.

  A heady combination of arousal and embarrassment heated Katie from head to toe. Having no idea what to do next, she pointed to a rubbish bin. “Let’s ditch our empty milkshake containers.”

  She pictured the big L shining on her forehead again, blinking back and forth between lesbian and loser.

  “Good idea. I need to get home anyway.”

  Disappointment shot through Katie, but then what should she expect? She’d made an unintentional innuendo, and then shot Gillian down. Talk about sending the poor woman mixed signals.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, my grandpa’s not well. I want to go and spend some time with him while I can. He’s in a hospice.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Sounds serious.”

  “It is.” Gillian wrung her hands together.

  Katie wanted to wipe the pained look from Gillian’s face. “Thank you for today, I hope you enjoyed yourself, and you know… um, maybe we could do it again sometime?”

  “I’d like that.” Gillian’s smile was back.

  “Better.” Katie chuckled. “Now go tell your Grandpa all about the movie.”

  “And you.” Gillian ran her hand along Katie’s arm and goosebumps chased each other up and down her spine. Her touch was electric.

  “‘til next time.”

  Gillian gave her a finger wave.

  Savouring the feel of her touch, Katie rubbed the spot on her arm and watched Gillian walk away, hips swaying, lime-green dress clinging to her curves.

  Any lingering doubts Katie had about her sexual orientation vanished in that moment. She was a goner. Shaking her head, she resolved to stop dancing around Gillian with two left feet and ask her on a date, one that lasted into the evening and ended in a goodnight kiss.

  When she turned, her gaze landed on Anita. Fuck! The woman turned, and Katie exhaled a relieved breath. Not Anita, just a dead ringer.

  That split second of panic gave her a reality check. How was
she supposed to date Gillian when Gillian’s favourite cousin was dating Katie’s worst nightmare?

  With her mind all over the place, Katie strolled back to her car and drove home in a blur.

  Chapter 19

  The second five o’clock rolled around, Katie flicked the phones over to night service and pushed back from her desk. “See ya at the gym.” She didn’t wait for Janet’s reply.

  After changing, Katie headed for the rowing machines, scanning the room for Gillian as she went.

  An elderly gentleman on the machine next to her glanced across and smiled. He smelled of sweat and aftershave, and his face was red as a beetroot.

  Five minutes later, Janet wandered out of the changing rooms. She gave Katie a wave and stepped onto a stair climber. Katie’s calf muscles screamed in protest, she hated climbing stairs at the best of times.

  After twenty minutes of not spotting Gillian, disappointment and self-doubt crept in. Had something held her up? Or worse, did Katie make such an idiot of herself Gillian was avoiding her?

  Craning her neck to see around a group of guys pumping weights, she scanned the gym once again. Dread shot through her when her gaze landed on a woman sporting a Lady Diana hair do.

  Fucking Anita!

  Gillian had obviously succeeded in talking her into joining the gym. A blessing and a curse. Focusing on the positive—she might shed some light on where Gillian was—Katie took a deep breath, forced a smile onto her lips, and made her way from the exercise machines to where a group of ladies were milling around waiting for the next jazzercise class.

  Trying not to squint against the glare of Anita’s teal-blue tights and techno coloured leotard, Katie acted as casually as she could. “Hey, ya. You look good.”

  The lie tasted like poison on Katie’s tongue.

  “Thanks. And thanks for not…you know.”

  Just because Katie hadn’t outed her as a ruthless bitch didn’t mean she’d been absolved. She’d keep.

  “No problem. We were kids. Shit happens, right?”

  The look of relief on Anita’s face was laughable.

  “I’ve grown up. You have too. Well, not up. You’ve slimmed down.”

  What a fucking twat. The compliment meant nothing to Katie. Keeping up the façade of letting bygones be bygones, Katie did a wee twirl, relieved when she didn’t fall flat on her arse.

  “I love coming here. Wakes up the muscles after pushing a pen all day.”

  “I’m supposed to do weights but thought I’d try out a jazzercise class first,” Anita said.

  “I guess Gillian will help you with your weights routine.” Katie hoped it wasn’t too obvious she was fishing for information.

  “Oh, her grandpa’s taken a turn for the worse. Not expected to survive the night.”

  Katie’s stomach clenched. Gillian must be grief-stricken. Death of a loved one was never easy. Even though her nana could be an old bag, Katie hated the thought of her being gone.

  “I told Paul to call me when it’s over. I didn’t sign up for that shit. Like literally, I hear he has bowel cancer.”

  Still a self-centred nasty bitch, I see.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean, we just want the fun stuff right.” Katie winked.

  “Oh, you have changed. I like it.”

  Anita held up her fist for a fist-pump and Katie had a mental fight with her hand to connect with her knuckles and not her face. The image of blood pouring out of Anita’s nose was enough to keep her smile plastered in place.

  She mentally kicked herself for not asking Gillian for her phone number, much less her last name so she could look it up in the phonebook. Chances of her having the same surname as Paul were slim to none but worth a shot.

  “So, what’s hunky Paul’s last name?” Before Anita could reply, Katie held up a hand. “Wait, let me guess. Atwell. Oh, yes, that would be perfect. Anita Atwell.”

  “Nice try.” Anita chuckled. “But it’s Slade.”

  “Anita Slade.” Katie nodded slowly. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  “If we get married, I’ll be Anita Samantha Slade.”

  “Lovely,” Katie replied.

  Your initials couldn’t be more fitting. ASS!

  ***

  Wednesday night, Katie picked up the phonebook, turned to the name Slade, and started dialling. Five calls later, she struck gold.

  “Hi, can I speak to Paul please?”

  “Sure, I’ll just get him.”

  After a long wait, and a lot of chatter in the background, the same voice came back down the line. “Sorry, he’s busy right now. We’ve got a bit of a houseful. Can I take a message?”

  “No, that’s fine. I just wanted to let him know I’m thinking of him.”

  “That’s very sweet. Who is this?”

  “Katie, I’m a friend. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve only met him once, at the movies…with Gillian.”

  “Speak of the devil, would you like to talk to her?”

  “Oh, wow.” Katie’s breath caught. “Is Gillian there?”

  “Well, of course. Her father’s my brother, and there are funeral arrangements to make.”

  Katie’s glee from seconds before fled. “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “He’s at rest now,” Mrs Slade replied, and Katie wished she could reach down the phone and hug a woman she’d never met.

  “It’s for you, Gill.”

  The term of endearment made Katie smile.

  “Hello,” Gillian sounded wary.

  “Hi, it’s me. Katie.”

  “Wow. This is a nice surprise. How’d you know I was here? Hang on a minute, how’d you get this number?”

  “I didn’t know you were there, and I’ve been going through the phonebook trying to find Paul’s number, so I could get your number.” She sighed, aware she was rambling.

  “Okay, I’m a little lost.”

  “I’ll fill you in when we see each other. I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you and I’m really sorry to hear your grandpa passed over.”

  “Yay, it was tough, but beautiful too. We were all there with him.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you get back to your family. Tell Paul that I said hi.”

  “Will do. Bye.”

  Katie clutched the phone. She didn’t want to be the first to hang up.

  “Hey,” Gillian said, “You still there.”

  “Yes.”

  “What was Anita like at school?”

  Shit. Where did that come from? Katie’s mind raced.

  Holding her cards close to her chest—she wouldn’t show her hand until she was ready—Katie answered the question with a question. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, but one minute she’s sweet as pie and the next cold as ice.”

  An image of Anita with her arm around Katie’s shoulder flicked through her mind, followed by one of her pinning Katie to the ground. “Yeah, she can be like that.”

  “Gillian Baines,” a booming voice echoed down the phone. “Come give your uncle a hug.”

  A muffled sound was followed by, “I’m on the phone.”

  “Well get off it. I came all this way to see my favourite niece.”

  A chuckle. “You came all this way to pay your respects.”

  “Gillian,” Katie said, smiling. Although Gillian was going through a tough time, it was clear she was surrounded by love.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll see you at the gym next Tuesday.” Katie figured the funeral would be on Saturday, and Gillian wouldn’t be worrying about working out between now and then.

  “Wait. What’s your number? I’ll ring you on Sunday.” Gillian paused. “If that’s okay.”

  “I’d like that.” Unable to wipe the silly grin off her face, Katie gave Gillian her number. After hanging up, she practically floated back to her room.

  Chapter 20

  Halfway through her workout on Saturday, glee shot through Katie when her gaze landed on Anita. She’d thought about he
r so much over the last few days, she would’ve been disappointed not to see her.

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Sore.” Anita flexed her arm and rubbed her bicep. “No pain no gain, right?”

  “You said it.” Katie smiled. “I’m sure Paul will massage out the knots. I guess you’re seeing him later today?”

  “Nope.” She tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder.

  When Katie caught a whiff of BO, she crinkled her nose and breathed through her mouth.

  “Your hair used to be shorter. It suited you.”

  Annoyance flickered in Anita’s eyes. “Are you saying long hair doesn’t suit me?” She folded her arms across her chest. “If you came over here just to insult me, you can go away.”

  “Whoa.” Katie held up her hands. “I’d never do that. You could have no hair and you’d still be the prettiest girl in town.” The lie rolled off Katie’s tongue.

  Placated, Anita’s expression softened. “Thanks. But the day I got asked if I was a dyke is the day I grew my hair out.”

  “No way.” Katie feigned shock. “Someone thought you were gay because you had short hair? Sheesh.” She shook her head.

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Look at Gillian with hair down to her arse. It’s not as if any guy is ever going to want to run his hands through it. Not only is the colour repugnant, but she’s a lesbo.”

  Reining in her anger, Katie spoke in a low voice. “I’m well aware of that.”

  The colour in Anita’s cheeks went from workout pink to red. “Oops, I forgot who I was talking to for a minute there. You just seem so…normal. Pretty even, I forget you’re a…a…” she coughed as if she couldn’t force herself to say the word.

  “A lesbian,” Katie supplied.

  “Are you?”

  “The jury’s still out on that one,” Katie forced some cheer into her voice. She wasn’t about to admit anything to Anita. For the time being, she needed her in her corner.

  She’d waited for this day. If she played her cards right, minutes from now victory would be hers. A lot could go wrong though, which was why her stomach was in knots.

  “I have to get going, or I’ll miss the bus. Paul was supposed to pick me up. But, oh no, he has a funeral to go to.” Anita rolled her eyes.