The Memories Of You (New England Bookkeepers #3)
1. Katrinia
1
Katrinia
“ I brought wine!” Willow calls out from the front door as she stumbles into our apartment. She has various bags slung over her shoulder while carrying a box filled with clinking bottles, of what I can only assume is the wine she’s so enthusiastic about.
Ditching the bags on the floor, she dumps the box on the small island we purchased online. After viewing our apartment, we found it had a lot more historical character than functional counter space.
What can I say? Neither of us cook, anyway. However, the built-in bookshelves and stained glass windows were a must.
Coming into the room, I push up on my tiptoes to peek inside the box.
“Where did you get all this?”
Pulling out a bottle of Pinot Noir I immediately notice the label—a zombie bride with words illustrated in a bloody font. I look at her curiously before picking up another. They are all a bunch of funky, zombie labels.
“That horror wedding I told you about was last night. I guess they left all the booze behind that they didn’t drink, so my boss told us to dig in and take what we wanted.” She shrugs as she unpacks her produce from the organic market on the corner before pulling out two glasses from the cabinet.
“So, who do we drink first: the bride or the groom?” I hold up two bottles and we both try to hold it together before we burst out laughing.
This is such a weird town. Though, I kind of love it. Salem, Massachusetts is a wickedly cool place. The perfect spot for a fresh start. Well, maybe for a recent grad with a double major who has no idea what she wants to do with her life, but for the witches…not so much.
Willow and I’s friendship began when we attended the same university in Chapel Hill, North Carolina even though she’s a couple years younger than me. I eventually got my bachelor’s in finance and master’s in business management from the University of North Carolina after a gap year.
After graduation, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I didn’t want to move into the city and be surrounded by finance bros but I didn’t find any corporate jobs I liked either, so I re-enrolled and just stayed in school.
After my world completely fell apart almost eight years ago now, I pulled myself together and ran as far as I could from my hometown and never looked back. Leaving behind all the drama and chaos of my youth, I realized I may have grown a little too accustomed to the comforts of campus life. The historic halls and collegiate charm became a hideout for me.
A type of security blanket.
Instead of tattered teddy bears, I had rows of books and a mile-high pile of deferred student loan debt.
Regardless of how I got here, here I am starting my first real finance job as a real grown up, in the real world. Even if I still have my emotional support friend by my side.
Willow answered an ad I posted, looking for a roommate, during her sophomore year and we have been inseparable ever since. She was a history major with a minor in occult studies. She has always known exactly what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be. For that, I’ve always envied her.
Willow has always had it all figured out: move to Salem and work anywhere, doing anything with the local history and folklore. She’s always been obsessed with all the witchy, ghostly, demon stuff. I have to say, it makes for an entertaining home atmosphere. She’s never without a tale to tell.
After a laugh, we take our zombie wine into the living room and plop down on our purple, velvet sofa. We picked it up from a local vintage shop we found when we first got to town. If I’m being honest I’m a little surprised we made it all the way here unscathed with Willow behind the wheel of our U-Haul.
Clicking the TV, we dive into our newest show. Binge-watching reruns of cheesy horror TV is kind of our nightly ritual.
“Cheers to getting you out into the real world.” Willow toasts as she raises her glass.
Clinking mine against hers, I mutter, “Gee, thanks,” under my breath.
“You can’t be a scaredy cat forever. You need to put yourself out there. Have you even opened the dating app I set you up with? I bet you have tons of messages of guys dying to go on a date with you.” I just roll my eyes at her pun and take a big, long sip of my wine as I actively try to ignore her.
“Kat! You should at least try. Just go out on one date as practice. I worry about you. I don’t want you wasting your best years heartbroken over some douche bag from a million years ago.” She says as she pets Binx, the black kitten we picked out of a cardboard box outside the supermarket.
“First, I’m not still heartbroken .” I drag out the word like it disgusts me. “Second, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” I tell her for what feels like the zillionth time.
Willow dates. She dates more than anyone I’ve ever known. She is incredibly social and has a way with people that is all natural, Gods-given talent. Me, on the other hand, am not so naturally talented.
Growing up with a drunk for a mother, I learned real quick it was better to keep to myself. To not bother anyone or draw the attention she wanted all to herself. I buried myself inside the pages of books and resided in fantasy worlds that were far more interesting than my own. Anything to make myself small and to help me slip by in life unnoticed.
Until my sophomore year of high school, anyway. I did the stupid, cliche thing all the teenage movies warn you against and fell madly head over heels in love with a boy.
Not just any boy, either.
My best friend’s older brother.
The one person who no matter how much I tried to make myself invisible, always saw me.
“I know you say you’re fine, but you deserve to be great. I don’t want you to settle for fine just because it’s safe.” Willow’s pointed brow mocks me as she looks me over while taking a sip from her glass.
“Well, when I see a Salvatore brother walking down the street I’ll make sure to spark up a conversation. But until then, can we just watch Bonnie save the day…again?” I ask, clicking the button on the remote to play the next episode of The Vampire Diaries .
“OK. OK. I see you’re holding out for perfection. I’ll drop it.” She teases as she snuggles deeper into the sofa—and the lie she just told.
I know for a fact she won’t drop it. She hasn’t dropped it once and I’m not holding my breath now.
“Thank you.” I sigh, snatching up Binx from her lap and cuddling him against my chest as the intro plays.
I start my new bookkeeping job with Jones Financial Group on Monday, so I just want to enjoy my last Saturday night drinking surprisingly good zombie wine and watching vampire drama with my best friend. Even if she is annoyingly digging her nose into my dating life, or lack thereof.