Read Confessions From A Coffee Shop Online
Authors: T. B. Markinson
In honor of the Red Sox, the band played “Sweet Caroline”—the song that is played at every Sox home game during the eighth inning. Many of the patrons stood to join in the singing, including Samantha and me.
Kat was slightly amused by us making asses out of ourselves in public.
Lucy was shocked. How in the world had Sam fallen for such a straight-laced gal? Then again, Sam had told me Lucy was kinkier in bed. It was humorous to observe their differences, but I guess the same could be said about Kat and me. From the shocked look on many faces when they learned Kat was with me, I guessed most people thought we’d be a flash in the pan. So far, we’d been together three years, and my grandmother’s ring was at the jewelers being resized.
When the song finished, I sat back down and kissed Kat on the lips. Samantha cheered, to my surprise. The beers were going straight to her head. Even Lucy tipped her glass in our honor.
The lobsters arrived, along with my mac and cheese. Both Kat and Samantha stole a tater tot as soon as the bowl hit the table.
“Ladies, hands off!”
“Why, Cori, I don’t think you’ve ever said that to me before?” Kat faked a Southern belle accent.
“When it comes to my tots, hands off.”
Kat waved me off and grabbed another one. I reached for my knife, brandishing it in her face with mock menace. The waiter chuckled as I requested two more orders of tater tots. He smiled and said that often happened. Here we were, grownups, fighting over tater tots.
“You can order me my own, but I still prefer your tots any day.” Kat winked.
“How come you never say that to me?” asked Samantha.
At first, I thought she directed the question to Kat, but when I turned, I saw Lucy’s face redden.
“Ah …” was all she could get out.
Luckily, the band started a new song. Kat flashed me a quizzical look, and I shrugged innocently. Clueless, Lucy grabbed one of my tots and handed it to Sam. I was pretty sure she had missed the point completely.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The singer tapped the microphone to get our attention. “We appreciate all of you listening to us this evening, even though the Sox are playing. I wanted to let you know that just moments ago”—he stopped abruptly to get everyone’s attention. “The Sox are going to the World Series!”
Samantha and I jumped up and hugged enthusiastically. Instantly, I knew I was in trouble. Turning quickly, I grabbed Kat’s arm and pulled her to her feet before planting a kiss on her lips—a kiss I hoped would save me from an awkward conversation later. Lucy stayed in her chair while Samantha hugged some strangers at a nearby table.
For the rest of the evening, I dreaded the impending talk. Kat acted normal, playful even, but I knew the shoe was about to drop. I just didn’t know when.
* * *
The train ride home started pleasantly. Kat nestled up against my shoulder and nodded off to sleep. I read
Twilight
. The train cruised through a few stops and neared Boston.
Then the train halted in between two stops. An announcement over the PA system informed us there was a small fire on the tracks. Great. Just great.
Kat roused herself, and looked around, confused. “Are we there?” Her voice was groggy.
“Not yet, sweetheart. There’s a fire on the track up ahead.”
“Why aren’t you reading the other book?” she asked testily. At first, I thought she was kidding.
“What’s wrong with shiny vampires?” I teased, not sensing any doom.
“Does one of them have a shopping addiction?”
Alarm bells clanged in my head. “Hey, what are you implying?”
“Me? What are
you
implying? You left that book in your bag for me to find it.” The sleepiness faded from her voice. Now, it was just full of anger.
“Do you really think I would do that?”
“I didn’t—until I went into your bag tonight and saw it.” She leaned away from me and crossed her arms.
“Samantha mentioned the book when she suggested
Twilight
. She said it was funny and lighthearted. I’ve been reading George Eliot—I need fun and lighthearted. There’s no hidden message. How did I know you would go into my bag?”
She harrumphed. “Yeah, right.”
“Listen, Kat, I would never buy anything to make you mad or to rub your face in it. I got the book because I heard it was funny. End of story.”
“Why didn’t you read it first? Why
Twilight
?”
I wanted to bang my head against the window. Was she seriously upset because I’d bought a book? I’ve never even called her a shopaholic. Never so much as implied it. As a matter of fact, I never complained about her shopping. No, instead, I worked out a way to get us out of debt without saying a word, and this was my thanks.
“Well, shiny vampires are cooler than shopping, in my book.” I smiled to cajole her, to get her to realize she was acting like an idiot.
It didn’t work.
“Return the book,” she demanded.
“What? Why? I haven’t read it yet.”
“I don’t want it in my house.”
Her
house? What about
my
house—I mean
our
house?
“Let’s talk about this later. You’ve obviously had too much to drink.” I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn’t take it back.
“Too much to drink! You sucked down ciders like they were water. And how many times can you make eyes at Samantha and think you’ll get away with it?”
“Make eyes at Samantha? So now I’m a cheater AND a passive-aggressive asshole. Am I following your gist completely?”
Kat’s expression suggested she didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. “Glad to see we’re on the same page.”
There weren’t many passengers on the train, but some people were eavesdropping on our fight, and I was embarrassed. “Can we just talk about it later?”
“Everything’s always later with you. Later we’ll talk. Later you’ll write your book. Later, later, later!” She slammed her hands down onto her legs.
I’d had it. Standing up, I grabbed my bag and my copy of
Twilight
from her hands. She held on tight to the book, so when I finally pried it from her hands, it popped free and hit me on my chin.
“See you at home,” I sputtered, and then barged through the train and sat two cars away. Seething, I took a seat and stared out the window. If there hadn’t been that stupid fire, Kat and I wouldn’t have fought—not yet, at least. We would be home by now, probably in bed.
Chapter Twelve
The next night, when I approached the front door after class, the house was dark. I wondered if Kat decided to stay at my aunt’s. By the time we got home from Salem the night before, neither of us were speaking, and I had spent the night on the couch. I had never done that before.
As soon as I opened the front door, I saw Kat sitting in the dark, drinking wine. The only light was from the fireplace.
Not knowing what to do, I stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. Kat eyed me and then motioned for me to have a seat. I obeyed.
“What’s up with Samantha?” She peered over her glass as she sipped her red wine. The glass had several lipstick smudges on it already, and I wondered if she was on her first or second bottle.
“What? Why?”
“Is there a reason you won’t answer the question?”
Her accusatory tone stunned me. “No, I’m just baffled why you want to know what’s up with Sam—shouldn’t we talk about last night?”
“I am. What’s up with you two?” Kat tapped her wineglass with a fingernail.
“Kat, we’re just friends. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Funny, because she only popped into your life recently, and now all of a sudden you two are BFFs. And she has a habit of always being around, such as the gay bar, Clammy’s, Red Sox games, Salem—and God knows how many other times I haven’t caught you.” She didn’t slur any of her words, but her eyes were foggy.
“Caught me! You make it sound like I’m having an affair.”
“Are you?” Her voice was steady.
“Do you really think I suggested Salem yesterday so I could spend time with Samantha?” I deflected.
Kat sighed deeply. “My head says no. But… there is a part of me that worries.”
“About what? Kat, you are totally off-base with this. Trust me. You have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s not how I see it, Cori. In fact, I’m wondering if I should just leave and not come back.”
I pulled back as if I’d just been punched in the jaw. “You can’t be serious.” I glanced around to see if she had any bags packed. Was this the end? “Kat, you know me. I’m loyal to you, and to my friends.”
“I also know your history.”
“History—what do you mean history? I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life, including now.” I tried to keep my voice under control, but it was hard to erase any hint of anger.
“What about your family?”
“So that’s it! Roger is a cheater, so I must be, too. You’re starting to sound like my mother,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
“Your mother never had any proof.”
“And you do?” I stared at her, incredulous.
She pulled out some papers I recognized as my cell phone records. She had printed out a record of all the text messages. Most were to and from Sam. I rubbed my face with both hands, hard. There was no way I wanted to end the conversation with Kat still doubting me, questioning us. But I had promised Samantha I wouldn’t share her secret. Fuck! This was bad.
“Okay, I admit this looks bad—but it’s not what you think. I just can’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Her tone was shrill.
I took the wineglass out of her hand and placed it on the coffee table. Taking both of her hands in mine I looked my girlfriend in the eyes. “Kat, I promise you, Samantha and I are just friends. Besides …” My voice trailed off. I had vowed I wouldn’t tell a soul.
“Besides, what?” Kat’s body stiffened, and she pulled her hands out of mine.
“Listen, I can’t tell you. I promised.”
“And she means more to you than me.”
“What? Kat you know that’s not true, and it’s not fair.” I pinned her with a look.
“So you won’t tell me. Is she not into you but you’re into her?”
“Listen, you wouldn’t want me to break a promise to you, would you?”
Her look said, “Knock it off and act like a grown-up.”
“You’re right, Samantha is not into me—” I raised my hand to silence her accusation—“and I’m not into her. She’s going through a lot right now, and …”
“What’s Miss Perfect going through?”
Wow! Kat’s jealousy was shining through in full force tonight. Part of me found it amusing. I probably would have laughed if our relationship wasn’t on the line over it. I had never done a thing to make her question me, or had I? I admit that the papers in front of us did not look good.
I bowed my head in defeat. “She doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“What? Was she passed over for a promotion? Harold is always talking about how well she does at work. How she’ll take over the company someday. How she tips him more than anyone else. How she—”
“She was let go.”
“What?”
“Sam was laid off. Do you remember that day I got drunk with her—that was the day it happened. She needed a friend, and that’s all I am to her. That’s all I’ve ever been to her, and that’s all that I want. I love you, Kat. And only you.”
Kat covered her mouth in shame. “Oh, Cori. I had no idea.”
“That’s what I was telling you—that you didn’t know the full story. She’s ashamed, and she doesn’t want anyone to know.” I thought for a moment and decided to drop a hint. “Especially Lucy.’
“Lucy, why does she…oh.” Kat scratched her chin. “Now I feel like an ass.”
“I’m not saying another word. I feel shitty enough.”
Kat rubbed my back. “Do you have feelings for her? I mean you spend so much time …”
I sighed. “That’s not it, Kat. It’s easier talking to her.”
This caused her eyes to well up, and she pulled her hand off my back as if she’d just been stung by a bee.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, we can relate to each other. Once, I was on top of the world: basketball star, budding author, and people respected me. Now I serve coffee to a bunch of rich snobs who can’t even take a second to say hello or thank you. Samantha has more wiggle room financially, but she can’t stay unemployed forever. We both know what it feels like to be at the top and then to fall flat on our faces. It’s humiliating.”
Kat nodded, trying to understand. “Why can’t you talk to me?”
“Everyone else has lost respect for me, even my own mother, and she’s a loon running around hiring PIs and talking to psychics. I don’t want to lose your respect. I mean, not more than I already have.”
“What does that mean, ‘more than I already have’?” Kat crossed her arms and leveled her stare so I couldn’t escape.
“Come on, Kat. You can’t be proud seeing me in a Beantown Café apron.” I felt my own eyes well up.
“You could be a garbage collector and I would still respect and love you.”
The thought made me smile. “Would you make me sleep in a different room, though? I imagine it’s hard to get the stink off.”
Crinkling her nose, Kat slapped my shoulder. “That’s what perfume is for. Gallons of it.” She laid her hand on my thigh. “I want you to open up to me more. I’m not saying you have to tell me everything you say to Samantha, but just don’t give me the cold shoulder because of your stupid pride.”
Kat flicked the phone bill off the table. A tear dribbled slowly down her cheek. “I’m a mess. A hot mess.”
I wrapped one arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. “That may be the case, but you’re
my
hot mess. And no matter what, I love you.”
She made a half-giggle, half-sob sound. Placing her hand over my heart and gripping my shirt tightly, she said, “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.”
“Honey, if that’s true, I’m more of an asshole than I thought. I love you, no matter what. I’m sorry our night was ruined yesterday. I swear to God I didn’t know Samantha and Lucy would crash our dinner. Can I make it up to you and take you to dinner tomorrow night?” A thought crossed my mind. “Or better yet, I’ll borrow Mom’s car next Sunday and I’ll take you to Lexington. I know you want to tour the Louisa May Alcott house. We can make a day of it, and have a nice romantic dinner, just the two of us. And we can even see her grave if you want.”