The Days Between

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Then

Kathryn

On the morning of her college graduation, Kathryn’s parents, Sherry and Henry, made the four-hour drive to sit in the freshly repainted bleachers of the football field, sweating in the sunshine as the dean crawled down the list of graduates. Kathryn searched for her parents’ beaming faces in the crowd as she collected her degree, and after the ceremony, she sat beside Andrew. Her parents treated them to a celebratory lunch on a brick patio at a decadent French bistro beside a bubbling fountain. Then, tipsy on champagne none of them could pronounce, Kathryn watched her mother’s hand wave before their SUV turned the corner and disappeared.

She savored the feeling of her parents’ unabashed pride, of providing them with a memory they could capture in a glossy photo, and promised herself it would be the first of a lifetime of milestones. After all, as an only child, any milestone she failed to reach would rob her lovely parents of a life experience. Kathryn had Andrew by her side, a degree in her hand, and a list of law schools to apply to. She pictured Sherry and Henry beaming as they witnessed Kathryn and Andrew recite their wedding vows, then as they cradled their first grandchild. She was standing at the threshold of her life, and the world was bursting with possibilities.

Kathryn moved her sparse belongings into Andrew’s apartment and, free from the burden of school, they spent their time tangled in one another, the sun of late morning pressing against the curtains. In the evenings, Kathryn waitressed at a pizza restaurant, but when she was off, they spent their nights barhopping with their friends, returning home in the middle of the night, buzzed from a few beers and intoxicated by one another. They talked until the sun rose, mapping their plans to harness the love they shared and chart their course in the world.

“You’ll be the best mom,” Andrew said, wearing a wistful smile. He was sprawled on his bed, one hand resting beneath his head. “And I can’t wait to be a dad. It seems like the coolest thing you could possibly do, like you get to create a whole person and show them the best things in life.”

Kathryn’s heart swelled.

“We have to have at least three.”

“Excuse me? Are you pushing them out of your body?” Kathryn demanded with a laugh, then propped herself up on an elbow. “No more than two. No less than two.”

“Okay, so two.”

“Being an only child was—is—a lot of pressure. I’d never do that to my kid. Thank God for Harper; she’s the sister I never had.”

“I get it.” Andrew rolled onto his side and fingered a loose thread on his bedspread. “That’s how it is with Nick.”

“But you have a brother.”

Andrew pinched the thread, tugged it from the fabric. “Kind of. Timmy’s eight years younger. He and his dad were always busy with his football practices. I was all about my grades.”

“His dad? Your dad?”

Kathryn saw the hardening in Andrew’s face, his jaw set. He shook his head, a quiver in his fingers as he yanked the thread from the bedspread, tearing a hole in the fabric. White fluff spilled out.

“What is it, Drew?”

“My dad.” Andrew’s voice wobbled. “My biological father. He ran off when I was two.”

“Oh wow. I had no idea.”

Andrew met her eyes. “My mom married Craig when I was five. He’s all I know, really. He insisted I call him Dad , and he’s been great to me, always, but ... I always suspected it was more about him and my mom and their perfect image, this nuclear family, you know? He took care of me and Timmy, drove us around, cooked breakfast every weekend, made sure we did well in school. And I’m grateful for it. I saw the way he worked his ass off, and he never complained. He’s the reason I am who I am. But when I found out about my bio dad, my mom just told me, ‘He’s probably passed out on the floor of a bar somewhere.’” Andrew’s breath snagged, and he stuffed the fluff back into the hole in his blanket. “My mom and Craig and Timmy, we had such a normal, uneventful life, but I always wondered what would happen if someday he came back for me. I blamed the booze. They say it’s a disease. So if he got better, he’d want to come back, at least check in on me, right?”

Kathryn didn’t picture this sort of gritty pedigree for Andrew, with his expensive haircut, his gray collegiate crewneck. Andrew covered his face with a hand. “I’ve never told anyone this besides Nick.”

His hand shook, and Kathryn reached out, weaved her fingers into his. “You can tell me anything.”

“When I was thirteen, my mom told me he’d been killed in a bar fight.” Kathryn gasped. Andrew’s eyes were pink, glossy with tears. “I mean, yeah, he was a piece of shit. But until that day there was a possibility for him to show he cared. Then it was just gone.” Kathryn was silent as Andrew palmed a single tear from his cheek. “Does this make you rethink having kids with me?”

“God, Andrew, none of that matters.”

“Alcoholism can be genetic.”

Kathryn shook her head. “We’ll raise our kids with all the love in the world. I’m not worried about any of it.” She tugged his hand closer. “Both of them. Three, maybe, as long as we can live on the beach.”

“Near the beach.” Andrew’s smile broke through again. “In the general vicinity.”

“ On. Oceanfront. And I want a pool.” She could see it then, their children licking drippy Popsicles. She could smell the chlorine, see the sparkling wedding band on her hand and the smoke rising from the barbecue. And Andrew. Always Andrew.

“You’re going to have to be a hotshot corporate lawyer if you want oceanfront and a pool.”

“I’m working on it.” Kathryn laughed. “You’d better score a fancy finance job if you want three kids.”

Andrew rolled his weight on top of her, his tongue slipping into her mouth, silencing her giggles. And like that, the cloud of his past dissipated.

Over the phone, Kathryn gushed to Harper. “I can’t wait to bring Andrew to Delray so you and Luke can meet him.” There was a giddiness in her tone Kathryn didn’t recognize.

“He sounds perfect, Kat,” Harper said. “They’ll totally hit it off.”

Hearing Harper’s voice prodded Kathryn with a throb of homesickness. By her junior year, she’d grown weary of the smattering of dive bars in their small college town. She itched for Andrew to complete his final year of school. When she finished law school, they could afford a house in Delray, begin their lives near Lucas and Harper, so they could share a pitcher of strong mojitos at Cabana on Atlantic Avenue, double-date, savor a pan of paella. It was years off, but every day was a step closer.

But it seemed Harper and Lucas were miles ahead of them.

“I have news,” Harper said, her voice wobbly, breathless. “Luke’s dad died a while back. And, well ... he left Luke some money.” Harper’s voice danced across the words. “Luke bought us a house.”

“A house—where?” Harper had grown up with money, more money than Kathryn could comprehend. Maybe if Lucas was financially comfortable Harper’s mother would loosen her grip on her daughter.

“In Delray. Near the beach,” was all Harper offered. “You and Drew will have to stay with us when you visit. But there’s more, Kat.”

Kathryn gripped the receiver. “Tell me.”

“Lucas proposed.”

The words sucked the breath from Kathryn, and she sat up against the pillows. “No. Way. Harper—when— how ? And what did Nora say?”

Harper fell silent for a moment. “She’s livid. She hates Luke. But mostly because ...” Harper’s voice faded. “Well, I’ve been seeing someone ... like a therapist. Since I started dating Luke,” she rushed. “And he helped me see how much control my mom had over me. How that’s not good. So I’ve been spending less time with her. And I’m on some medication, too.”

Wow. It was a lot. No wonder Harper sounded lighter. But for the first time, the pieces clicked. Harper’s ups and downs, the sharp accusations, maybe they’d never been about Kathryn at all. Harper sounded ... free.

“Anyway, we’re going to elope. In Paris. Two days from now.”

“Two days? Paris? Holy shit. Congratulations on the engagement. And the house! I can’t believe I’m not going to be there when you get married.”

“I know, but I just want it to be us. To be romantic.”

“I get it. I’m shocked. But I’m excited. More than excited—you’re so lucky to have found Lucas.”

“And you found Andrew. We’re lucky, Kat. Hurry up. Move back down here, marry this guy, so we can live near each other and our kids can be best friends,” Harper squealed.

Kathryn grinned. “I’m working on it. I just have to chill and work this shitty restaurant job while I fill out law school apps. But it’ll all be worth it. We’ll do it, Harper.” When Kathryn spoke the words, the possibility of it all felt like a blissful dream. Everything she’d ever wanted, so close she could almost touch it.

In September, Andrew returned for his final two semesters, rising early each morning and shuffling around his bedroom in a rush before he darted out the door. Kathryn woke to the remaining heat of summer and Andrew’s absence. It was like flipping a switch: one day she had all of him, and the next, he ducked into the apartment only to shower and sleep. When Andrew was home, he hunched at his desk, his single light aimed at the pages of his book.

Then his stepfather called. Craig had arranged an internship for Andrew, one that would make Andrew a shoo-in for a position at Craig’s firm after graduation. Andrew grinned, but Kathryn read the strain in his eyes. “If I can make a good impression at the Gainesville branch,” Andrew said, “I can soar at the Charleston firm. I’ll be making bank, and fast.” He pecked Kathryn’s lips.

“But what if I don’t want to move to South Carolina?” she argued. Leaving the state had never crossed her mind.

“Kat.” Andrew locked eyes with her. “If I do this, I can afford our dream life, the kids, the pool, all of it.”

“I want to live in Delray, close to Harper and Luke. And I’m going to be a lawyer; I won’t need you to pay for our life.”

Kathryn thought the matter was settled. But one evening she slipped her hands around Andrew and pressed a kiss against his earlobe, feeling his body stiffen beneath his T-shirt. Kathryn knew him, knew how quickly he responded to her touch, and she leaned in to kiss him in earnest.

Andrew drew back as if she weren’t standing behind him and flung his notebook, the pages fluttering like an injured bird before it struck the wall. “These fucking notes make no sense,” he shouted. “I have one hour to do this before I have to be at my internship.”

Kathryn straightened. She hadn’t expected Andrew’s sudden burst of anger, had never seen him react badly to frustration before. “Calm down, Andrew. It’ll be fine.”

Andrew grimaced. “Kat. Sweetheart. I need to learn all of this. I’m not going to live on your salary.”

“Who said anything about living on my salary?” she demanded.

Andrew jumped up and shoved his textbooks into his backpack. He snatched his notebook off the floor. “I need to get out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

Andrew zipped his bag. “Somewhere I can focus.”

The sting of rejection coursed through her like poison. “Really, Drew?”

A long sigh drained from him, and his shoulders fell. Andrew stepped forward to place a placating kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry. But—do you want to be married to a jobless loser?” He tried to make his voice sound light, but Kathryn could still feel his words, like he’d slapped her. “I’m not going to be like my father. I need to do this right. For us.”

“We don’t need to re-create your mom and Craig’s marriage,” Kathryn said as Andrew closed the door behind him.

Kathryn settled against the headboard. She didn’t like this side of Andrew. She found herself wallowing in his absence, in the long, lonely evening stretching before her, with so many just like it to follow. It was only September, and she’d already slid to the bottom of his list of priorities. They had eight months to navigate before he graduated.

When they’d started dating, it hadn’t taken Kathryn long to notice Nick and the quiet way he watched her. She was familiar with the feeling of a man’s eyes on her, just as she was practiced at ignoring it, but she had to admit there was something about him. His deep eyes were a warm chestnut that seemed to change with his moods, which was ... not unattractive . When she’d moved into their apartment that summer, she’d often passed by Nick’s bedroom door and seen him sprawled across his bed with a book in his hands. Sometimes his hands were spotted with paint, and he hung canvases in his room. With Nick, she found herself wondering what he was thinking, curious about the sides of himself he kept hidden from the world.

Kathryn and Andrew included Nick when they went out, though she sensed Nick’s discomfort when the three of them were together. Nick had a pensive way of taking in everything around him, and occasionally she found she was the subject of his interest, but when she met his eyes, he didn’t drop his gaze.

Kathryn knew Nick had every reason to be jealous of Andrew. Nick was racking up student loan debt while Andrew’s parents seemed to have no issue funding his education and expenses. She’d never seen Andrew stress about rent or gas; on countless occasions she’d seen him put a 2:00 a.m. pizza on his credit card, and he often picked up the tab for friends, and for Nick, who averted his eyes while Andrew scribbled his name beneath a generous tip.

As fall wore on, Andrew spent his evenings at his internship or at the library. Kathryn often came out into the living room in the evening, where Nick sat watching TV. One night she dropped onto the couch next to him. “Can we watch Friends ?”

Nick glanced over at her. “For the love of God, no. I’m not watching that crap.”

“Please?” she begged, reaching out for the TV remote.

Nick rolled his eyes and handed it to her, and she flicked between channels. For a while they watched the show in silence, and she felt his presence, the palpable sensation of sharing a space with a relative stranger. Nick sipped his beer and kept his eyes on the screen until ten minutes into the show, when a sudden laugh burst from him. Kathryn’s eyes shot to the other end of the couch, and she jutted a finger. “See? Friends is hilarious .”

A smile cracked across his face. “Fine, it’s clever.” He drained the remainder of his beer.

Kathryn rose and pulled two bottles from the fridge, handing Nick a fresh beer as she took a seat again, this time a few feet closer to him. They clinked their bottles together.

On their evenings off, she and Nick watched Friends while Andrew studied at the library. Sometimes, Kathryn looked to the other side of the couch and found him looking at her instead of the television, but she brushed it aside. Andrew was everything she’d imagined her college boyfriend to be: he was confident and good looking, and he came from a stable family. He was focused and studied hard, and her parents adored him. All summer she’d felt a magic with him she’d never felt with anyone, but, as fall wore on, she realized no matter how much she longed for the Andrew she’d known in the summer, Andrew didn’t look at her the way Nick did.

One quiet evening alone in Andrew’s bedroom, a crash from the other side of the wall jerked her attention from the novel in her hands. She rapped on Nick’s bedroom door, and his voice called out from the other side. “It’s open.”

Nick sat in the middle of his bedroom between towering stacks of books. His bookshelves were empty. “Did I wake you?” He glanced up. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were home.”

But she was always home. Always there to collect the mail, her law school rejections stacking up by the day. She’d brought them up to Andrew, and he’d offered an infuriating, “Don’t stress about it, babe.”

Kathryn leaned against Nick’s doorframe. “What are you doing?”

“I found this bookcase outside by the trash.” It was a cheap-looking particleboard piece, placed against Nick’s wall. “I’m rearranging my collection.”

“Need help?” Before he could respond, Kathryn took a seat beside him on the rug and pulled a book from the top of the stack. “Yuck. So many classics. I only read them when they were required.”

Nick didn’t answer. With an old T-shirt, he dusted each book before he sorted them into stacks around him. Kathryn plucked another book from a pile and let the pages run between her fingers. “Robert Frost. I always liked this one.”

Nick glanced up from his work.

“We discussed it in ninth-grade English. ‘ Two roads diverged in the woods. ’”

“‘ In a yellow wood, ’” Nick corrected gently.

Kathryn nodded, pulling the book close to her. “‘ I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference, ’” she finished. “I love that the difference isn’t explained. We don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

Nick frowned and nodded, considering her words.

“That’s what I told my ninth-grade teacher, anyway, and she gave me an A.” Kathryn shrugged and set the worn book back where she’d found it.

“Don’t do that,” Nick said.

“Do what?”

“Don’t dumb yourself down. Ever.” It was the first time she’d heard Nick speak so assertively, and the flash in his deep eyes stirred something in her belly. “You’re going to be a lawyer, Kat.”

“I’ll only be a lawyer if they let me in, and it’s not looking promising.”

“You’ll find the right school.” Nick said it with such confidence, while Andrew seemed concerned only with his career. Without looking up, Nick asked, “Are you going to marry him?”

The abrupt question silenced all of Kathryn’s thoughts, and she pulled her knees to her chest. “Andrew? I don’t know.” But the thought was there. Sparkling. “We’ve only been together seven months.”

“Do you want to marry him?” Nick asked. “Or someone like him? Have a couple of kids and a house in the burbs.”

It was exactly what she’d planned. She balked. “Why do you ask like it’s a bad thing?”

Nick shrugged. “It’s not. It just doesn’t seem like you. You shouldn’t settle.” He went back to his book stacks. “You’re too smart.”

“Life with Drew isn’t settling.”

Nick responded with a soft grunt and continued with his project, but Kathryn’s mind circled back to the picture of the life that stretched out ahead of her. Some might consider it predictable, she conceded, but it was a life some people could only dream of. For her, for Andrew, it was attainable. “You don’t want a family?”

“Someone to share my life with? Sure. Kids? No.”

“Never?”

Nick shook his head.

“Why?”

“My dad remarried. My mom was ... a less-than-ideal parent. I was shuffled between their houses like a piece of luggage.” She saw his shoulders tense. “It felt like they had to tolerate me until I turned eighteen and moved out. I never even had my own room.”

“So you don’t want better for your kids?”

“I want to enjoy my freedom. To travel, to explore the best of life: food, books, music. Sex.” Nick dropped his tone, low, husky. Sexy. “I want to live for myself, not go through the motions, acting out commercial holidays.”

Kathryn considered this. “I’ve always wanted a family.” She thumbed through a book absentmindedly. “I’m all my parents have, so there’s this immense pressure to give them the white wedding and the grandkids. My childhood was so ... lonely. That’s the only word I have for it. Holidays were boring. I opened my gifts alone. I got exactly what I asked for, but I had no one to share it with, you know?”

Nick kneeled and began sliding books onto shelves. “Wait until you go to Drew’s house for Christmas. They all wear matching pajamas.” Nick scowled. “They have brunch with cloth napkins. His mom buys a new cardigan for the occasion each year. It’s like a goddamn magazine.”

“It sounds nice.” Kathryn imagined her children, a boy and a girl—and maybe the third Andrew teased her about—gathering for Christmas with their grandparents, she and Andrew watching them tear open gifts. Maybe living in South Carolina wouldn’t be so awful. But if she and Andrew lived in Delray, visiting Andrew’s family once or twice a year in South Carolina would be special, a place where they’d paint memories. The picture wasn’t generic; it was warm and welcoming, happy, and secure. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Or were she and Andrew sketching a life they were conditioned to desire?

The freedom Nick spoke of, the indulgence in music, food, carnal pleasures ... something stirred in Kathryn. She’d always derived joy from these things. Why deny herself?

“There are studies on only children, you know?” Nick said. “Like you, like me. They’re often overachievers, stubborn, independent. But, also, they’re not afraid to take risks, to challenge stereotypes, to live for themselves.”

“Huh.” How would it feel to skip out on law school? If she didn’t get accepted to the schools she’d applied to, would she find a measure of relief? Could she surprise everyone and live a wild, indulgent life like the one Nick desired? Could she throw the duty to please her parents aside, live without any burdens? Spend her time exploring the world, making love to men who looked ... like Nick?

Nick motioned for her to hand him the last few books spread on the rug. Kathryn wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts before she did, and he worked them onto the shelves. “Done.”

They regarded their work: the spines organized by color. “Wait, check this out.” Nick jumped to his feet and flipped his light switch, plunging them into darkness, revealing hundreds of glow stars smattering the ceiling and walls. He settled onto his back on the rug, and Kathryn followed his lead, letting her eyes adjust. Nick’s room fell away, leaving a vast expanse of stars, like a clear summer night. She dropped her head to the side and found Nick looking back at her, his eyes soft. And she pictured the lush life he had planned for himself, long hours in bed with a book or writing in the weathered leather journal she’d seen on his nightstand. She imagined rainy days, lattes, travels to the castles of Ireland.

Then she saw it, bright, visceral: her body wrapped in a sea of blankets beside him, one bare foot brushing her leg. She saw his strong body above hers, tipping her head back to meet her mouth. Time didn’t matter; the pressures of the outside world didn’t exist there. It was just the two of them, sharing the hours, the years, as they came. Nick held her gaze. He was close, and she could feel his breath on her skin, which sent a ripple through her, to the deepest part of her belly. In the darkness she thought she saw him tilt his head toward her, a movement so slight she was sure she’d imagined it, and wondered how his full lips would feel on hers when they parted.

Nick sat up and flicked the light switch, returning the world around them to reality. “Thanks for helping me,” he mumbled, then walked into the hallway, leaving her to wonder if he, too, had imagined a life together.