Out of Grief (9 page)

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Authors: EA Kafkalas

BOOK: Out of Grief
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“I don’t know how you do that.”

 

“You know I hate shopping. Barely escaped my mother the other day.”

 

“That would have been fun.”

 

“Oh, yeah. She thinks my wardrobe needs color.”

 

“I think you look hot in black.”

 

“Well, my mother hates the … wait. What did you just say?”

 

“I said I think you look ah … good in black.”

 

“Really? I don’t think that’s what I heard.”

 

“Don’t pay any attention to me. It’s the …”

 

“Hormones,” we said together. I wanted to tell her the excuse was getting old. But I didn’t want to fight again. And then there was the whole idea that she thought I was hot.

 

What did that mean? I mean, I thought Hugh Jackman was hot, but it didn’t mean I wanted to sleep with him. Was it like that? Or was there more to it? Or was it really those fucking hormones?

 

“Are you still there?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You have to know you’re attractive, Nikki. I’m certainly not the first person to say it.”

 

This is why I hated the phone. You could never see the person’s face, read her tells. Was she just being nice? This was another conversation best left adrift.

 

“You haven’t said much about how your presentation went,” I said, to steer the conversation into safer waters.

 

“I think they liked it. The one board member is a bit tricky. He’s as old as dirt and thinks we should still be living in the 1950s. Which I guess means he was picturing me barefoot, since I’m already pregnant.”

 

“Well, at least he wasn’t picturing you naked.”
Filter, Nikki, filter!

 

“Thank God. I’m not much to look at these days.”

 

And we’re back in the deep end!
“Please. Covered in mud you’d still turn heads.”

 

“You always were my biggest fan.”

 

“So if the money comes through, will you be the one in charge of putting everything together? It sounds like a pretty big deal.”

 

“I already have the people lined up that I want to work with. Mark has written great pieces before for us, and his wife Linda is a wiz with the camera. I think they’ll be perfect for the job. It’s just a short narrative book, with lots of pictures.”

 

“You don’t want people to have to read too much these days.”

 

“Which is why I thought of turning the whole thing into a CD with narrative. It’s just lining up the right person to do the voice overs.”

 

“Yeah, the wrong voice could really make it miserable.”

 

“You should do it.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Remember when you used to read to me in high school?”

 

How could I forget? It was always an excuse to have her close to me.

 

“I loved that time,” she said softly. “Sometimes I wish we could do it all over again.”

 

“Really? Why?”

 

“Don’t you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you had made different choices?”

 

“Sometimes, but not too often. Something got you down?”

 

“No. I just really miss you, I think. I’m just feeling nostalgic for simpler times. Maybe getting nervous about the baby. That’s all.”

 

“You’re going to be a great mother, Quinn.”

 

“I wonder. My mom was never that great. What makes you think I’ll be any better?”

 

“You’re nothing like her. You’re sweet and kind and intelligent, and you know better. Why would you even think you’d be anything like her?”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

“I know I am.”

 

“Will you be the godmother?”

 

Wow. Wasn’t expecting that. It’s not like I went to church on a regular basis. “You know I’m not that religious.”

 

“You’re the only person I would trust.”

 

I didn’t even get to be her maid of honor. Her mother made her bump me as her maid of honor in lieu of her sister. “That should send your mother over the edge.”

 

“It’s my baby and I want to know if anything happens to me—”

 

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

 

“But if it does. I don’t want my baby to grow up with my mother. You said it yourself. I’m nothing like her.”

 

“Sometimes I think the doctor switched you at birth, but then I remember how totally awesome your dad was. So, I know you weren’t.”

 

“You didn’t say yes, yet.”

 

“Yes. Of course, yes. There’s nothing I would like more than to be your child’s fairy godmother.”

 

She laughed. “Keeping her away from the evil grandmother.”

 

“If need be.”

 

“That’s funny; I’ve always thought of you more like my champion. Like my knight in—” She stopped herself. “Well, I can’t really picture you in a poufy skirt, or any skirt, for that matter.”

 

“That’s true.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I settled onto the black leather sofa at Think Spa, waiting for Emily to finish work. I wasn’t sure if she would see me, but I figured if I caught her in person, she might.

 

The receptionist was very accommodating, offering to tell Emily I was there, but I told her I didn’t want to disturb her, I would just wait. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t Kat, and who didn’t know my history with Quinn. I knew it was a long shot, but Emily had seen right through the situation that night. Maybe she would have some insight now.

 

“Goodnight, Susie,” Emily called as she passed by the receptionist desk.

 

“You have a visitor, Emily,” Susie informed her.

 

She looked up from her phone and stopped. “Nikki?”

 

“I took a chance that you might have some time to talk,” I said, standing up to follow her out.

 

“Look, if it’s about that night…”

 

“It is, but not how you think,” I told her. “Look, I get it if you don’t want to see me again. But really, I could use a fresh ear, and I’ll buy you dinner. Anywhere you want.”

 

She looked skeptical. “Anywhere?”

 

“You name it. As long as we can talk.”

 

“It’s short notice to go anywhere fancy. So let’s just go to the Korean place down the block.”

 

“Okay, but I can take you someplace nice another night, if you want.”

 

“Let’s see how this goes, Nikki. I’m usually not one to hang out with people I’ve wanted to sleep with.”

 

“I respect that. So, thank you for breaking your rule tonight.”

 

“Well, you caught me by surprise.”

 

Once we were seated, Emily said, “So is this about your, and forgive me for doing this,” she made little air quotes, “best friend?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She took a large sip of her Diet Coke and looked at me. “I’d say you have a lot of nerve, but I can see she has you all twisted up. I could tell that the other night. So spill.”

 

“We grew up together. We’ve known each other since, well, kindergarten. And I knew in high school exactly how I felt, and I thought that maybe she felt the same way too. But she said she didn’t. And still we were friends, through tons of stuff, and then her husband killed himself about six months ago.”

 

“Did he know she was pregnant?”

 

“No. She found out after.”

 

“That sucks!”

 

“I don’t know if it’s hormones, or her dealing with his death, or what, but I keep getting mixed signals. Sometimes I feel like she’s flirting with me. She calls practically every day, and she says things that have my mind on overdrive.”

 

“You think she’s in to you?”

 

“She made it clear she wasn’t, when we were younger.”

 

“Well, you were teenagers. Maybe now …”

 

“See, I can’t wrap my head around that.”

 

“Because you want it too much, and if it’s not real, you’ll be crushed.”

 

“Are you sure we can’t be friends? You seem to really get me.”

 

She laughed. “Well, right now we’re in the same boat, don’t you think?”

 

I recognized the look in her eyes. I saw that same look in the mirror. And I knew that I didn’t want to be the source of her pain. “This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you now.” I took some money out of my pocket and left it on the table to pay for dinner. “I should go.”

 

“Nikki.” She touched my hand. “Sit down.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Thank you, Emily, I’m really—“

 

She squeezed my hand. “Shh. Tell me what she’s done to get you so twisted up.”

 

“She wanted me to hold her every night when I was there after the funeral. Her mother wanted me gone, but she made me stay in an inn in town for two days while she got rid of her mother. She calls me all the time now; she says … I don’t know. I’m probably just being silly.”

 

“The night we had dinner …did she know you were going on a date?”

 

“Yeah. I told her all about you.”

 

“And she still called, Nikki. What kind of friend does that?”

 

“A needy one?”

 

“Before you hung up, you looked like a deer in headlights, and you said, ‘ditto.’ Which anyone born before 1975 knows is a reference to
Ghost
and another way of saying, ‘I love you.’ Which she said to you before she hung up? Right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“She’s good. I’ll give her that. Please don’t introduce me though, because I may just want to tear her eyes out.”

 

“So, you’re saying she totally fucked up our date on purpose?”

 

“Well, what does the writer in you have to say about that?”

 

She did. She totally sabotaged our date. “Fuck it.”

 

“That ship has sailed, my friend.”

 

“No, I meant—”

 

“I know what you meant, Nikki.” She laughed.

 

“Oh.” I liked Emily. Really liked her, and this was ridiculous. “How could I be so stupid? That’s why she was asking me about making sure you were … I am so sorry, Emily.”

 

“Making sure I was what?”

 

“Tested.”

 

“Wow. Now I really want to take her out back.”

 

“Take a number.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I didn’t answer that night when she called. I was afraid I might say something I couldn’t take back. If I was going to confront her about her feelings, I wasn’t going to do it on the phone. I needed to see her face for that conversation.

 

There was a lot to think about after my conversation with Emily. Including my lack of ability to really identify what was right in front of me. I don’t know if Emily and I could have had a future, but I do know the more time I spent with her, the more I grew to like her. She was a good person with a good heart, and I spent my share of time dating some real jerks. I was hoping that eventually we could be good friends, if nothing else.

 

By the following evening, Quinn had left two messages and texted several times. So I answered, deciding to let it go. There was no point. Besides, she was clearly scratching her itch, as she so delicately put it, with men.

 

And still, I couldn’t help myself; I heard the question come out of my mouth, before I could stop it. “So no more spotting?”

 

“You really mean, no more sex with men on the first date, don’t you?”

 

“No. I really mean, are you having any more spotting? But thank you for that visual image,” I said, hoping to cover my misstep.

 

“Who would you like me to have sex with, Nikki?”

 

I bit my lip, before I could give her the honest reply. “You can have sex with anyone you want, Quinn. I have no hold over you.”

“But you would like to, wouldn’t you?”

 

“You want to go there, let’s go there. My feelings have never been a mystery. I told you how I felt, you told me you didn’t feel the same way, and I have respected that. None of that has changed. You, however, blur the lines, or maybe you just exploit my feelings for you. But calling in the middle of a date; that was just wrong, and you know it. And I would hate to think that you did it on purpose, because you didn’t want me to be with anyone else. That’s not why you did it, is it?” I stopped to catch my breath, and try to slow down some of the things spilling out of my mouth.

 

“I don’t know why you’re so upset. You said you weren’t that in to her.”

 

“I said it wasn’t love at first sight, Quinn. But she was intelligent and funny and caring and there was a chemistry. And I was …”
Craving human contact.
“You know what, none of that matters. Because now she’ll only look at me as a friend. I want something more than this life of solitude. I want to be out of my head and in to my body for a change. Is that too much to ask for?”

 

It was quiet on the other end of the line. I had gone too far, I knew; but it had to be said. Whatever this game was, I didn’t want any part of it.

 

I finally asked, “Are you still there?”

 

“I’m here.” Her voice was soft, timid in a way I rarely heard. She was deep in thought, I could tell from her manner.

 

“Look, maybe we should just take a little break from talking every day.”

 

That got her attention. “Is that what you really want?”

 

“What I want and what I can have are two very different things, Quinn. I know that. Look, why don’t we just talk in a couple days. If there’s something dire, you know you can call me. But let’s try to give it a week or so.”

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