“Hey, kids,” he said, putting their sandwiches on plates. “I have an idea. Let’s do something for Miss Katie.”
“Okay!” Kristen agreed.
Josh, always easygoing, simply nodded.
7
Wind-driven rain blew hard across dark North Carolina skies, sweeping rivers against the kitchen windows.
Earlier that afternoon, while Katie did her laundry in the sink and after she had taped Kristen’s picture to therefrigerator, the ceiling in the living room had begun to leak. She’d placed a pot beneath the drip and had alreadyemptied it twice. In the morning, she planned to call Benson, but she doubted whether he’d get around torepairing the leak right away. If, of course, he ever got around to fixing it at all.
In the kitchen, she sliced small cubes from a block of cheddar cheese, nibbling as she moved about. On ayellow plastic plate were crackers and slices of tomatoes and cucumbers, although she couldn’t arrange them tolook the way she wanted. Nothing looked quite the way she wanted. In her previous home, she’d had a prettywooden serving board and a silver cheese knife with an engraving of a cardinal, and a full set of wineglasses.
She’d had a dining room table made of cherry, and sheer curtains in the windows, but here the table wobbled andthe chairs didn’t match, the windows were bare, and she and Jo would have to drink wine from coffee mugs. Ashorrible as her life had been, she’d loved assembling the pieces of her household, but as with everything she’dleft behind, she now viewed them as enemies that had gone over to the other side.
Through the window, she saw one of Jo’s lights blink out. Katie made her way to the front door. Opening it, shewatched as Jo splashed through puddles on the way to her house, umbrella in one hand and a bottle of wine inthe other. Another couple of stomps and she was on the porch, her yellow slicker dripping wet.
“Now I understand how Noah must have felt. Can you believe this storm? I’ve got puddles all over my kitchen.”
Katie motioned over her shoulder. “My leak is in the living room.”
“Home sweet home, right? Here,” she said, handing over the wine. “Just like I promised. And believe me, I’mgoing to need it.”
“Rough day?”
“Like you couldn’t imagine.”
“Come on in.”
“Let me leave my coat out here or you’re going to have two puddles in your living room,” she said, shimmyingout of her slicker. “I got soaked in the few seconds I was out there.”
Jo tossed her coat on the rocker along with the umbrella and followed Katie inside as she led the way to thekitchen.
Katie immediately set the wine on the counter. As Jo wandered to the table, Katie pulled open the drawer by therefrigerator. From the back of the drawer, she pulled out a rusted Swiss Army knife and readied the opener.
“This is great. I’m starved. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Help yourself. How did it go with the painting?”
“Well, I got the living room done. But after that, it wasn’t such a good day.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. I need wine first. How about you? What did you do?”
“Nothing much. Ran to the store, cleaned up, did my laundry.”
Jo took a seat at the table and reached for a cracker. “In other words, memoir material.”
Katie laughed as she began to twist the corkscrew. “Oh, yeah. Real exciting.”
“Do you want me to get that?” Jo asked.
“I think I’ve got it.”
“Good.” Jo smirked. “Because I’m the guest, and I expect to be pampered.”
Katie propped the bottle between her legs and the cork came out with a pop.
“Seriously, though, thanks for having me over.” Jo sighed. “You have no idea how much I’ve been lookingforward to this.”
“Really?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” Katie asked.
“Act surprised that I wanted to come over. That I wanted to bond over a bottle of wine. That’s what friends do.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and by the way, before you start wondering whether or not we’re actually friends andhow well we know each other, trust me when I say that yes, absolutely. I consider you a friend.” She let that sink inbefore going on. “Now how about some wine?”
The storm finally broke in the early evening, and Katie opened the kitchen window. The temperature had droppedand the air felt cool and clean. While pockets of mist rose from the ground, rolling clouds drifted past the moon,bringing light and shadow in equal measures. Leaves turned from silver to black and silver again as theyshimmered in the evening breeze.
Katie drifted dreamily on the wine, the evening breeze, and Jo’s easy laughter. Katie found herself savoringevery bite of the buttery crackers and sharp, rich cheese, remembering how hungry she once had been. Therewas a time when she’d been as thin as a heated strand of blown glass.
Her thoughts were wandering. She remembered her parents, not the hard times but the good ones, when thedemons were sleeping: when her mom made eggs and bacon, the aroma filling the house, and she’d seen herfather glide into the kitchen, toward her mother. He would pull aside her hair and kiss the side of her neck, makingher giggle. Once, she remembered, her dad had brought them to Gettysburg. He’d taken her hand as they walkedaround, and she could still recall the rare sensation of strength and gentleness in his grasp. He was tall andbroad-shouldered with dark brown hair and there was a navy tattoo on his upper arm. He’d served on a destroyerfor four years and had been to Japan, Korea, and Singapore, though he said little else about his experience.
Her mom was petite with blond hair and had once competed in a beauty pageant, finishing as the secondrunner-up. She loved flowers, and in the spring she would plant bulbs in ceramic flowerpots she placed in theyard. Tulips and daffodils, peonies and violets, would explode in colors so bright they almost made Katie’s eyesache. When they moved, the flowerpots would be placed on the backseat and fastened with seat belts. Often,when she cleaned, her mother would sing to herself, melodies from childhood, some of them in Polish, and Katiewould listen secretly from another room, trying to make sense of the words.
The wine Jo and Katie were drinking had hints of oak and apricots, and it tasted wonderful. Katie finished hercup and Jo poured her another. When a moth began to dance around the light above the sink, fluttering withpurpose and confusion, both of them began to giggle. Katie cut more cheese and added more crackers to theplate. They talked about movies and books, and Jo shrieked with pleasure when Katie said her favorite movie was
It’s a Wonderful Life, claiming that it was her favorite movie, too. When she was younger, Katie rememberedasking her mom for a bell, so she could help angels get their wings. Katie finished her second glass of wine,feeling as light as a feather on a summer breeze.
Jo asked few questions. Instead, they stuck to superficial topics, and Katie thought again that she was happyfor Jo’s company. When silver highlighted the world beyond the window, Katie and Jo stepped out onto the frontporch. Katie could feel herself swaying slightly and she took hold of the railing. They sipped their wine as theclouds continued to break, and all at once, the sky was filled with stars. Katie pointed out the Big Dipper andPolaris, the only stars she could name, but Jo began naming dozens of others. Katie stared at the sky in wonder,amazed at how much Jo knew about the constellations, until she noticed the names Jo was reciting. “That one’scalled Elmer Fudd, and over there, right above that pine tree, you can make out Daffy Duck.” When Katie finallyrealized that Jo knew as little about the stars as she did, Jo started to giggle like a mischievous kid.
Back in the kitchen, Katie poured the last of the wine and took a sip. It was warm in Katie’s throat and made herfeel dizzy. The moth continued to dance around the light, though if she tried to focus on it, there seemed to be twoof them. She felt happy and safe and thought again how enjoyable the evening had been.
She had a friend, a real friend, someone who laughed and made jokes about the stars, and she wasn’t sure ifshe wanted to laugh or cry because it had been so long since she’d experienced something so easy and natural.
“Are you okay?” Jo asked.
“I’m fine,” Katie answered. “I was just thinking that I’m glad you came over.”
Jo peered at her. “I think you might be tipsy.”
“I think you might be right,” Katie agreed.
“Well, okay then. What do you want to do? Since you’re obviously tipsy and ready for fun.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you want to do something special? Head into town, find someplace exciting?”
Katie shook her head. “No.”
“You don’t want to meet people?”
“I’m better off alone.”
Jo ran her finger around the rim of the mug before saying anything. “Trust me on this: no one is better offalone.”
“I am.”
Jo thought about Katie’s answer before leaning closer. “So you’re telling me that—assuming you had food,shelter, and clothing and anything else you needed to simply survive—you’d rather be stranded on a desertisland in the middle of nowhere, all alone, forever, for the rest of your life? Be honest.”
Katie blinked, trying to keep Jo in focus. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be honest?”
“Because everybody lies. It’s part of living in society. Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s necessary. The last thinganyone wants is to live in a society where total honesty prevails. Can you imagine the conversations? You’re
short and fat, one person might say, and the other might answer, I know. But you smell bad . It just wouldn’t work.
So people lie by omission all the time. People will tell you most of the story… and I’ve learned that the part theyneglect to tell you is often the most important part. People hide the truth because they’re afraid.”
With Jo’s words, Katie felt a finger touch her heart. All at once, it seemed hard to breathe.
“Are you talking about me?” she finally croaked out.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
Katie felt herself pale slightly, but before she could respond, Jo smiled.
“Actually, I was thinking about my day today. I told you it was hard, right? Well, what I just told you is part of theproblem. It gets frustrating when people won’t tell the truth. I mean, how am I supposed to help people if they holdthings back? If I don’t really know what’s going on?”
Katie could feel something twisting and tightening in her chest. “Maybe they want to talk about it but they knowthere’s nothing you can do to help,” she whispered.
“There’s always something I can do.”
In the moonlight shining through the kitchen window, Jo’s skin glowed a luminous white, and Katie had thesense that she never went out in the sun. The wine made the room move, the walls buckle. Katie could feel tearsbeginning to form in her eyes and it was all she could do to blink them back. Her mouth was dry.
“Not always,” Katie whispered. She turned to face the window. Beyond the glass, the moon hung low over thetrees. Katie swallowed, suddenly feeling as if she were observing herself from across the room. She could seeherself sitting at the table with Jo, and when she began to speak, her voice didn’t seem to be her own. “I had afriend once. She was in a terrible marriage and she couldn’t talk to anyone. He used to hit her, and in thebeginning, she told him that if it ever happened again, she would leave him. He swore that it wouldn’t and shebelieved him. But it only got worse after that, like when his dinner was cold, or when she mentioned that she’dvisited with one of the neighbors who was walking by with his dog. She just chatted with him, but that night, herhusband threw her into a mirror.”
Katie stared at the floor. Linoleum was peeling up in the corners, but she hadn’t known how to fix it. She’d triedto glue it, but the glue hadn’t worked and the corners had curled again.
“He always apologized, and sometimes he would even cry because of the bruises he’d made on her arms orlegs or her back. He would say that he hated what he’d done, but in the next breath tell her she’d deserved it. Thatif she’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have happened. That if she’d been paying attention or hadn’t been sostupid, he wouldn’t have lost his temper. She tried to change. She worked hard at trying to be a better wife and todo things the way he wanted, but it was never enough.”
Katie could feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes and though she tried again to stop them, she felt themsliding down her cheek. Jo was motionless across the table, watching her without moving.
“And she loved him! In the beginning, he was so sweet to her. He made her feel safe. On the night they met,she’d been working, and after she finished her shift, two men were following her. When she went around thecorner, one of them grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth, and even though she tried to get away,the men were so much stronger and she didn’t know what would have happened except that her future husbandcame around the corner and hit one of them hard on the back of the neck and he fell to the ground. And then hegrabbed the other one and threw him into the wall, and it was over. Just like that. He helped her up and walked herhome and the next day he took her out for coffee. He was kind and he treated her like a princess, right up until shewas on her honeymoon.”
Katie knew she shouldn’t be telling Jo any of this, but she couldn’t stop. “My friend tried to get away twice. Onetime, she came back on her own because she had nowhere else to go. And the second time she ran away, shethought she was finally free. But he hunted her down and dragged her back to the house. At home, he beat herand put a gun to her head and told her that if she ever ran away again, he’d kill her. He’d kill any man she caredfor. And she believed him, because by then, she knew he was crazy. But she was trapped. He never gave her anymoney, he never allowed her to leave the house. He used to drive by the house when he was supposed to beworking, just to make sure she was there. He monitored the phone records and called all the time, and he wouldn’tlet her get a driver’s license. One time, when she woke up in the middle of the night, she found him standing overthe bed, just staring at her. He’d been drinking and holding the gun again and she was too scared to say anythingother than to ask him to come to bed. But that was when she knew that if she stayed, the husband wouldeventually kill her.”