Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate
“One down and thousands left to go, Kate or should I say Katie?” Natalie asks as she walks into my office.
“Kate.” I sigh. “One down and thousands of what left to go?”
“Days.” She taps her watch. “You successfully avoided your old flame for today. What’s the approach we’re taking tomorrow? Are you going to be busy washing your hair? Or did your dog eat all the invoices?”
“I don’t own a dog,” I point out with a smile. “I thought dogs were partial to homework. That’s what I remember from middle school.”
“They’ll eat anything as long as it keeps their owners occupied.” She narrows her eyes. “You can borrow my dog.”
“I’m good.” I close the appointment calendar on my computer. “I don’t think he’ll be back tomorrow.”
“He’ll be back.”
I rub a hand over my forehead. “Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to.” She shakes her head. “He’s eager to talk to you. I have no idea what went down between you two, but I know from experience sometimes it’s best to put the past to rest by having one last conversation with an ex.”
I’ve never talked to Natalie about Gage. Our relationship borders on friendship, but we’re not close.
“Sometimes, it’s best to avoid the ex,” I counter. “He’ll give up eventually.”
Just like he did five years ago.
I don’t say those words even though they’re playing on the tip of my tongue.
“You can’t hide back here forever, Kate.”
She’s right.
When I finally came in at noon, I ducked into my office to take care of a few calls. Natalie followed on my heel to tell me that Gage was waiting at the door when the boutique opened. He promised her he’d be back after lunch.
By the time he arrived just before two o’clock, I was knee deep in a delivery problem and told Natalie to show him the door.
He left forty-five minutes later.
I pulled up the security camera on my computer and watched him stroll out of the boutique.
The video was grainy, but I could tell that he showed up here in a pair of jeans and a white V-neck sweater. He was dressed the same way on the day we met eight years ago.
I was only nineteen-years-old.
He was twenty-one.
Time has been kind to his body. The cut of his expensive suit showcased that.
The last time I saw him he wasn’t as muscular as he is now. His hips and waist weren’t as trim.
“I’m going to go home and make my husband dinner.” Natalie studies me for a minute. “I know Gage hurt you, Kate. I can see it. I want you to know that I’ll run interference for as long as it takes but facing pain can be cathartic.”
Or it can be debilitating.
I won’t let Gage’s sudden appearance in my life undo all the strides I’ve made.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Nat.”
“You bet, Katie.” She winks. “I’ll be here bright and early.”
I can’t promise the same.
Mom: What’s the what?
I laugh as I read my mom’s text message.
Kate: I’m making dinner.
Her reply is instant, which is surprising since my mom is always telling me texting is her least favorite way to communicate with me. She prefers phone calls or very long emails.
I like text messages because we can get to the point in no time flat.
Mom: Making dinner or putting take-out on a plate?
I look down at the sushi I picked up on my way home.
Kate: Busted.
As she types back a reply, I pop a spicy salmon roll in my mouth. I tap the chopstick on the side of the take-out container as I chew.
Mom: Invite me to NYC and I’ll cook all your favorites. You must miss my meatloaf.
I miss sitting on the wooden stool in her kitchen watching her make it. It was our regular Wednesday afternoon routine when I was in grade school. I’d do my homework by the table and she’d gather together all the ingredients for the best meatloaf I’ve ever had.
Kate: I miss the meatloaf and you.
I know my mom. Her eyes are misting with tears as she reads the text message I just sent.
Both of her kids have set out to live their own lives. My older brother, Eldred, and his wife settled in California. They’re a two-hour drive from my folks’ house. I’m a five-hour plane ride away.
Mom: Say the word and I’ll buy a ticket for the meatloaf and me.
My mom would know exactly what I should do about Gage. She’d coach me through all of it, but I’m not the same twenty-two-year-old woman who was left by her fiancé just days before their wedding.
I can do this. I need to do this on my own.
Taking a sip of lemon water, my gaze drops when another text message pops up on the screen of my phone.
Mom: I’m there if you need me.
I smile at the offer.
Kate: I always need you, but let’s save the trip for your birthday.
It’s months away and by then, I’ll have put my past with Gage to rest and my mom will never have to know that he stumbled back into my life.
Our break-up was hard on me, but I saw the impact it had on my parents.
They gave Gage their blessing when he asked for my hand in marriage. My dad tried to hide the tears in his eyes when I told him that there would be no walk down the aisle. My mom wept when we donated my wedding dress.
Mom: This year I’ll turn 40 for the 15th time, so a trip to New York is the perfect way to celebrate. Eat all your take-out and brush your teeth. Love you.
Laughing, I shake my head.
Kate: Love you too.