CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The next day, I lie to Lisset.
“Gideon’s sick,” I inform her when we’re stopped at a traffic light on the drive to school. “What he has is contagious, so we have to stay away.”
“Is he going to be okay?” she asks, and I can hear the worry in her tone.
“I’m sure he will be.”
“I want to see him.”
“You can’t, honey.”
“Can I wear a mask and visit him?” she asks.
“I’m afraid not.”
Her face in the rearview mirror is set in determined lines. “What if he wears a mask?”
Oh, he’s been wearing a mask all right.
“I think he needs a lot of sleep so he can recover,” I tell her. “It’s best if we leave him alone.”
Lisset is quiet for a moment. “I’ll make him a card.”
“Okay.”
“Will you give it to him?”
I flick a glance at her earnest face in the mirror, then I look away. “Sure.”
I drop her off at school and head to work. After the events of yesterday, it took every ounce of willpower to drag myself out of bed this morning when all I longed to do was pull the covers over my head and find forgetfulness in sleep. But that’s what I did after Oliver left and I’m determined not to turn into that shell of a person again. Lisset deserves more, I deserve more. I survived heartbreak once and I’ll survive it again.
Tess urged me to take today off, but I don’t want to be known as the food stylist who schedules shoots and then cancels at the last minute. Word travels fast in this industry and I can’t afford to develop a bad reputation.
The minute I walk into the studio for the pizza shoot, Joel seems to sense something is wrong. He tries to delicately probe, but I shake my head. I can’t talk about Gideon. Not to him. He doesn’t push me. Instead, he gives my shoulder a gentle, I’m-here-for-you squeeze, which makes my throat tighten, and then he goes straight into discussing details of the shoot. Work is the best distraction and for the next couple of hours I lose myself in creating the perfect cheese pull for Joel to photograph.
Tess messages me, wanting to know how I’m doing, and I shoot her off a text reassuring her I’m coping. She and Aaron stayed with me the whole of yesterday. Aaron wouldn’t say what happened with Gideon. He was favoring his right hand when he returned and appeared preoccupied, but he told me not to worry. I’ll find out eventually what transpired between the two of them, but at the moment I’m focused on simply getting through the next couple of days. I’m raw and fragile and I’m protecting myself.
My mom dropped Lisset off later that evening, along with an armload of meals that’ll see me through the rest of the week. I know she cooked as much for her sake as mine. It’s how she handles stress, all that chopping, stirring, mixing, and beating helping her to self-soothe.
When I pick Lisset up from school after the pizza shoot, I’m hoping she’s forgotten about the card for Gideon, but as soon as we arrive home, she hurries up to her room to make a card for him.
When she’s finished, she hands it to me. “Please put it in his mailbox.”
“Okay.” The lies I’m telling my daughter. I tell myself it’s not at all the same as the lies Gideon told me.
“You can read it if you want, Mom.”
“Thank you,” I manage to say, although I know I won’t read it, that it will gut me to read her innocent words to him.
I wait until she’s out of sight before I tear the card up and bury it at the bottom of the recycling bag.
And then I retreat to my bedroom to weep, because Gideon’s not only broken my heart, he’ll shatter my daughter’s too when she finds out he’s no longer a part of our life.
The doorbell rings half an hour after Lisset’s gone to bed. My pulse starts racing. He wouldn’t dare. I’m half gearing up for a fight as I check the peephole, but it’s my grandmother standing impatiently on my front porch.
“Open the door, Katherine Anne. I’m freezing out here.”
I open the door with a mix of relief and exasperation. My family, it seems, are determined to smother me with their love and concern. I’m not altogether resentful and I know better than to argue with them.
Grandma steps into the entryway. “Just warning you, your mother’s planning on coming over tomorrow to see you. She wanted to come tonight, but we played Rock, Paper, Scissors and I won, so I get to see you first.” Grandma leans toward me and says conspiratorially, “I asked Google for tips on beating your opponent at Rock, Paper, Scissors and it gave me some good strategies. You should have seen the shock on your mom’s face.”
I’m startled at the laugh that bubbles out of me. I thought it would be a long time before I laughed again.
Grandma nods, satisfied. “Let’s have some tea, shall we?”
We busy ourselves making the tea, chamomile for me, since I’m avoiding caffeine that will spike my already jangled nerves. While Grandma heads to the living room, I quickly check on Lisset. She’s fast asleep.
“Tess filled me in,” Grandma says as soon as I sit down. “No need for you to dredge up all the disturbing details.” Her face creases into a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. No, I’m not okay. But I’m afraid to let go, I’m afraid of who will be swept away in the ensuing tidal wave of grief. I can’t do that to my frail grandmother.
When she levels me a look, however, I realize I’ve underestimated her. Hidden in that delicate body is a spine of steel that’s seen her through three miscarriages, the loss of her siblings, and the death of her husband. She’s made of stern stuff, my grandmother, and this is what she offers me now. A safe sanctuary to let go.
“Don’t hold back on my account,” she tells me firmly. “I’ve been through some things, and I can handle your pain.”
I’ve spent the better part of today trying not to cry, but sometimes the fighting feels harder than the letting go.
“It’s okay, sweet girl,” Grandma says softly. “Just let it out.”
And I do. I cry and cry and cry.
I cry for the hope I had of a healthy, loving relationship. I cry for all the times Gideon held me and comforted me and told me how much he loved me. I cry for Lisset and the devastation she’ll feel at Gideon’s absence. I cry for the torment playing out on Gideon’s face when he confessed to knowing Oliver. It wasn’t the look of a man taking pleasure in some sadistic game; instead, he looked wretched and guilty and broken. I can acknowledge that much, but I can’t get past his lies.
I remember his words to me: “Kate, listen to me very carefully, I will never, ever physically harm you.”
He promised not to physically hurt me, but it’s as though he knew one day he’d end up hurting me emotionally . Gideon might never have raised a hand to me, but he’s hurt me far more than Oliver ever did.
The strange thing is, despite everything he’s done, I miss him. I miss him so much it makes my bones ache. How do I stop myself from caring about him?
“You’re in a deep season of grief right now, but that’s all it is,” Grandma tells me. “A season. It’ll pass and so will your pain. It won’t go away, mind you, but it’ll get easier to carry.”
Two days later, Aaron and Tess insist I come over for dinner. I agree, knowing if I say no, they’ll probably pitch up at my house anyway. Lisset, predictably, is delighted, if not a little confused by all this unusual social activity.
At dinner, we make an effort for Lisset, keeping the conversation light and centered on all the gossip at her school. After dinner, Aaron helps Lisset with her math homework while Tess and I clean up and talk in the kitchen.
“I’m just struggling to reconcile the Gideon who did so much for us to the Gideon who lied to us for so long,” I say to her as I stack the dishwasher. “It seems inconceivable to me that it was all an act. I mean, what did he hope to gain?”
Tess pauses in her wiping of the counter. “The only one who has the answer to that question is Gideon.”
“I know.”
“Will you be satisfied with never knowing why?”
“No.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to speak to him at some point.”
“I will, but I’m not ready to face him yet.” Because what if I’m so desperate to be with him again that I’ll believe whatever explanation he gives me, even if I suspect it’s a lie?
Tess nods. “I get it. It feels too soon.”
“I think he tried to tell me once, but I shut him down.”
“Only once?”
“That I can remember.”
“He could have tried again,” she points out.
“He could have.”
We finish cleaning up in silence. It took four seasons for me to fall in love with Gideon. How many seasons will it take for me to fall out of love? Or is there just one long, endless winter ahead of me?
Lisset and I are in the car, ready to leave, when she tells me she left her sweater in the living room. Aaron and Tess have already gone back inside. I leave Lisset in the car while I quickly make my way to their front door. I’m about to knock when I overhear Aaron talking to Tess on the other side of the door. I freeze when I hear Gideon’s name mentioned.
“I still can’t get over how Gideon never fought back,” Aaron says. “I punched him and he just took it, like he knew he deserved it.”
Tess murmurs something I can’t make out.
“And there’s something else...” Aaron continues, but his voice fades as they move away and I don’t find out what the something else is.
I turn and head back to the car, not bothering to retrieve Lisset’s sweater.
As I drive home, Aaron’s words— he never fought back —haunt me. When I turn into my street, my eyes involuntarily dart to Gideon’s house. His Jeep is gone from his driveway.