14. Katy
Katy
I ’d surprised Andrew and myself both by admitting that the ‘make Katy fall in love with Andrew’ campaign was working. I’d told him last night I had feelings for him, and now I was intimating that they could evolve into love. Usually I did my best to avoid strong emotions of any kind, but the longer I spent with Andrew, the harder it was to deny what I was feeling.
Steph had picked a terrible time to go out of the country on vacation. I was desperate to text her and pick her brain, but I couldn’t reach her until she came back. I could talk to Carmen, but even though we’d been good friends for years, she didn’t know too much about my background. Explaining my reservations about being in a relationship wouldn’t make as much sense without knowing where those reservations came from.
To his credit, Andrew didn’t press me on my little confession. He just squeezed my hand a little tighter and led me over to his mother’s house. I was grateful for a few minutes of quiet to get my head together.
True to her word, Marianne had cooked us an enormous roast. She paired it with mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots, and biscuits. Patrick’s contribution to dinner was a growler of delicious beer that he’d picked up from the brewery a couple of towns over. By the time we were finished eating, we were all too stuffed to touch the little red velvet cake that Andrew and I brought.
“How about a game of Monopoly before dessert?” Marianne suggested. “Then Katy and Andrew can do the dishes.”
Andrew and I exchanged a look but neither of us commented. I wanted to laugh at Marianne trying to maneuver us into working on the dishes together when I was already staying at the man’s house.
We spent the next ninety minutes playing Monopoly . I hadn’t played in years, but it wasn’t hard to pick back up. It turned out that all three of the Lawsons were ruthlessly competitive, and I couldn’t stop laughing as they all tried to one up each other. Their trash talking was next level.
“You should see them on the basketball court, it’s quite a scene, especially when all the boys are playing,” Marianne told me, as if she wasn’t just as cutthroat about Monopoly as her sons were. “They get that competitiveness from their father, God rest his soul.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to Mr. Lawson? He passed away, right?”
Patrick and Andrew stilled, watching their mother, and I realized that I’d brought up a sore subject. I immediately regretted it.
“Oh, I’m sorry to be so nosy. It’s really none of my business.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Marianne reassured me. “My husband was walking across the living room one night after dinner, ready to watch a basketball game, and suddenly he just fell over right there.”
Marianne pointed to a spot in the center of the living room and all of us looked in that direction. When I glanced back at the Lawsons, every one of them had a look of such profound sadness on their faces.
“I called the paramedics and then started CPR, but it was too late,” Marianne continued, her eyes turning a little glassy. “My husband had always been super healthy, he exercised and ate right, but that didn’t save him. The doctor said it was a widow maker heart attack, the worst kind. He never had a chance.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful.”
I thought back to the day I heard that my mother had died. The hospital called me since I was listed as next of kin. I remember staring at her cold body in the hospital bed and feeling incredibly sad. Not that she was dead, I was numb to that. No, I felt sad because once she was gone, I knew I’d never have the kind of mother that I needed. Before that, there was always some part of me that hoped someday she’d make amends and try to have a relationship with me.
I’d been alone for years -- Mom and I had only occasionally talked or seen each other once I moved out to go to college – but that was the day I knew I was truly alone in this world. My throat suddenly felt tight thinking about it.
“Let’s work on those dishes,” Andrew said, pushing back his chair.
Marianne gave me a sympathetic look that told me that I looked as sad as I felt right now, and somehow she knew it had nothing to do with her dead husband. The woman was incredibly perceptive.
“Why don’t you kids head home?” she suggested, throwing her arm around my shoulders and giving me a tight squeeze. “Patrick and I will get the dishes.”
I didn’t say much on the walk back to Andrew’s house, memories of my mother flitting unbidden through my mind. It was weird. I hadn’t thought about her for a few years, but somehow seeing the pain on the Lawson family’s faces over the loss of their patriarch reopened my own wounds about my mother and her death.
When we got back home, well, to Andrew’s home as I kept reminding myself, I was loathe to be alone, which wasn’t like me at all. I loved being alone. Preferred it, even.
Andrew must have picked up on my melancholy mood because he said, “Would it be crazy if I suggested we sleep together in my bed again? I swear I slept better with you there.”
I sent him a grateful look. “To be honest, so did I.”
“Well then, put on your jammies young lady and I’ll meet you there.”
I laughed at his over the top tone, like he was selling me something on a late night infomercial.
“I’ll be right there.”
When I got to Andrew’s bed we started making out again, but it felt different from the other times. Instead of being rough and passionate, this time our kisses were sweet and soft. No less devastating though. Then Andrew pulled me into his chest, and I snuggled in close and fell asleep.
A few hours later I awoke with a start. My heart was racing, my body filled with adrenaline. Looking around and remembering where I was, I realized that I’d had a nightmare.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked sleepily.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me. Even in the darkness I felt the weight of his penetrating gaze.
“That seemed like some nightmare,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t remember it,” I lied.
He stared at me for a long, weighted moment before deciding to let me off the hook.
“I’m here for you any time you want to talk,” he said as he pulled me into his arms. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, baby.”
Then he rubbed my back until I fell back asleep.
When I woke up Sunday Andrew was still asleep. I crept out of the room to use the bathroom and start the coffee pot, then surprised myself by going back to his bedroom.
“There’s my girl,” Andrew said, wagging his eyebrows comically. “Come give us a snuggle.”
I laughed at his antics but slipped back into bed with him, where we made out leisurely until the coffee was done.
The next week Andrew and I fell into a routine. We’d go for a run in the mornings, then he’d go to work, and then I’d either go help Marianne or I’d entertain myself at home until it was time to make dinner. After eating dinner together we’d read or watch TV, then we’d go to bed. Together.
We were surprisingly compatible. And despite my natural seriousness, Andrew had a unique ability to make me laugh.
He also had a unique ability to make me horny. Over the course of the week our make out sessions were getting hotter, with lots of heavy petting, but no actual getting off. No sex, oral or otherwise. We did everything but have sex though. I was pretty sure Andrew was trying to get me to commit to him by making me so sexually frustrated that I’d agree to anything.
Friday afternoon I got the text I was waiting for. Steph and Christopher were finally back from their vacation.
Katy: I need to talk to you. Privately. Call me when you’re alone and can talk.
Steph: I’ll send Christopher to the grocery store and call you in a few minutes.
Five minutes later the phone rang.
“I’m alone for at least an hour,” Steph said without preamble. “Christopher is a slow shopper. He feels the need to analyze the price differences in every single product. What’s up?”
I walked to my bedroom and closed the door, even though Andrew was still at work.
“I’m sleeping with Andrew.”
Steph squealed like a teenaged girl with Taylor Swift tickets. “Oh my God! That’s great! Is he good? He’s good, isn’t he?”
“You misunderstand me. I’m sleeping with him, not having sex with him.”
“Huh?”
“I slept in his bed one night and then I… just kept doing it. We cuddle and make out and stuff, but we haven’t actually had sex yet,” I explained. “Well, actually the very first time he went down on me, but other than some dry humping it’s been mostly PG-13 since then.”
“Okay, I’m going to need you to start from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”