Chapter 15 – Kat
FIFTEEN
KAT
As I enter my mom’s house for Thanksgiving break, a wave of anxiety washes over me. I’m unsure what I expect, but my stomach instantly plummets when I see the note on the kitchen counter.
Katarina,
Had to go into work, there is a frozen lasagna in the freezer. Closing, won’t be home until late.
Love you,
Mom
PS: You have mail in the basket by the door.
I let out an exasperated sigh as I toss the crumpled note back onto the cluttered kitchen counter and make my way to the refrigerator. A quick glance reveals a sparse selection of food, but my eyes zero in on the half-empty six-pack of hard cider. With a groan, I grab a bottle and twist off the cap, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat.
It’s not like I expected her to greet me at the door, but tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I can’t imagine she plans on cooking if she’s not going to get home until the wee hours of the morning, but a “Hello” would be nice.
The basket of mail in the entryway is piled high with an assortment of bills, ads, and the occasional package of coupons from the local grocery store. I quickly spot a familiar name written in bold letters on top of a bundle held together by a rubber band—“ Kat .”
Curiosity piqued, I reach for the stack and start sorting through the mail. Most of it is junk—credit card offers, local dealerships wanting me to come in for their “special financing,” a bill from the university, and…
A lump forms in my throat as my fingertips ghost over the last envelope in the stack with a “ Return to Sender ” stamp in bright red ink on the front.
I have no interest in having a relationship with my dad. The man left my mom when I wasn’t even a year old to be with the mistress he’d knocked up. The irony of that is not lost on me—leaving the child you have at home to be a father to the child you don’t know yet.
The sting still lingers almost twenty years later.
His address is printed in my handwriting, the same address he’s lived at since leaving us all those years ago. It’s where I’ve sent letters every fall since I was ten, hoping that he may be intrigued enough about my life to write back. The letters always go unanswered, but I liked to envision him sitting in front of the fireplace while he reads them, his shame holding him back from reaching out rather than an utter lack of interest.
The big red stamp of rejection stares back at me, a clear indicator that he didn’t think me important enough to give his new address.
I drop the envelope back onto the table, take a sip of my cider, pull my phone out, and begin scrolling through Instagram. Everyone is posting about their families and how thankful they are to be home for the holiday. A few people post about “Blackout Wednesday” from their local hometown bar. None of it brings me comfort.
Sinking into the couch, I remember with delight that I’m not the only person from school who lives in the Columbus area.
Kat
Any interest in coming to Dublin?
With a sigh, I switch the smart TV on and navigate to Netflix, where I scroll through potential shows to watch until my phone dings with a notification. I reach for the device.
Tanner
Text me the address
I type out the address before continuing to scroll through Netflix in search of something to watch.
Though I’m not sure where exactly Tanner is from, he shows up fifteen minutes later with a takeout bag in hand and a grin on his face.
“What the hell did you do, teleport here?” I laugh as I open the door, letting him in .
His confused expression makes me chuckle before he realizes what I mean. “Oh, ha. No, I’m from Worthington.”
Worthington is less than ten minutes down the road and now I find myself wondering how I never met him before.
“Wait, where did you go to school?” I ask as he steps across the threshold.
“Kilbourne. You?”
“Scioto.”
“Small world,” he says with a laugh as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter. “I believe we beat you guys in football senior year.”
“We were robbed!” I laugh.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes, trying not to pay his taunts any mind.
“Do you have anything to drink?”
“Hard cider in the fridge, but we also have water.”
I expect it to be more awkward than it is, having Tanner in my space like this. We’re friends at school, but having him at my mom’s house feels…too real. However, he just reaches into the fridge to grab a hard cider before snatching the bag he brought off the counter.
“Did you want to eat in the living room?” he asks as he looks to the TV.
“Sure!” I turn on my heels with him behind me and walk over to the couch. Sinking into the plush red cushions, I sigh with relief.
Tanner begins pulling boxes from the bag and instantly my senses are overwhelmed by the delicious smell of orange chicken.
“How did you know I love Chinese food?” I gape as I reach for the box. He yanks it out of my grasp with a laugh, but quickly yields when I pout up at him.
He just shrugs at my question. “Lucky guess. Everyone likes Chinese food.”
I eagerly plunge my fork into the steaming orange chicken. The tangy scent and succulent pieces of meat explode on my taste buds, sending waves of pleasure through my body.
As I take another bite, I can feel Tanner’s gaze burning holes into me. When I turn to him, his lips are curved in an amused expression.
“What?” I mumble.
He just laughs as he sits down next to me, balancing a box filled with beef and broccoli on his lap. “Nothing.”
“What do you want to watch?” I ask.
Tanner inspects the screen as I display potential options, most of which are comedy shows. “ Community .” He points as I scroll past the unfamiliar TV show.
“I’ve never seen it.”
Tanner looks at me, pure shock mixed with what appears to be horror invading his face. “You’ve never seen Community ? Has Childish Gambino in it? Only the funniest show on the face of the planet?” As I stare at him with a blank expression, his shock only grows in intensity. “Damn.”
We settle into a comfortable silence as we watch Community , Tanner pausing it every so often to offer me more context.
With eager ears, I listen to every word he spills about his favorite show. How Jeff relentlessly pursues Brita, how he eventually has a period where he pursues Annie, Annie’s crush on Troy in the earlier seasons. All of it. He breaks each scene down as if he’s memorized the plot of the entire show .
“So, Jeff used to be a lawyer…but now he’s not?” I ask, confused.
“Well…” Tanner grabs the remote and pauses the show once more, no doubt prepared to give me a full summary of Jeff’s demise. “He was never technically qualified. He was practicing law, but his law degree was fake. So, he had to go back to school to get the required education before actually going to law school.”
“So, he’s a fraud.”
“Basically.”
“And we’re supposed to root for this guy?” The shock that seeps into my words makes him laugh.
“Not necessarily. He’s supposed to suck—it’s part of his appeal. Like Dennis from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia . Except…slightly less of a bad person.”
I stare at him blankly.
He reels with shock again. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia …”
“I…have never seen It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia .”
“Remind me when we’re back on campus, I need to get you on a stern regimen of comedy TV education.”
I grab the nearest throw pillow and launch it at his face. Tanner’s loud laughter fills the room as he dodges the pillow with ease. His amusement is infectious and I let out a chuckle.
“Thank you for coming over tonight,” I say, my tone far more serious than moments before.
For a moment, I think he isn’t going to respond. Then, when his eyes meet my own, a faint smile paints his lips, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Of course…I’ll always show up for you.” Tanner looks do wn, wringing his hands with such force that I wonder if it hurts. “Was Elijah not able to?”
A lump forms in my throat at the question. “I…hadn’t even thought to call Elijah. He’s…busy.”
“Too busy for you?” Tanner asks, but there is no jest or judgment in his voice.
“His family has high expectations. He warned me that he wouldn’t be particularly reachable this weekend. I guess they do this big party at his parents’ house in the city.”
“And he didn’t invite you?”
“We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.”
“Still,” he says, “he should have at least asked. I would have invited you.”
Silence lingers, the weight of his words not lost on either of us. He doesn’t backtrack, doesn’t back off; he just looks at me, his eyes fixed resolutely on my own. It should be uncomfortable—the implication should have me jumping out of my seat—yet as he looks at me, I feel nothing but comfort at his honesty.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“For what?”
“For coming.” The moment the words leave my mouth, he quirks a brow. I throw the other accent pillow at him, and this time it smacks against his cheek.
“Oh, you’re going to get it,” he laughs as he stands up and gathers an armful of the pillows.
I quickly dart away, placing the kitchen island between us as he adopts what I can only describe as a fighting pose, preparing to strike.
At the exact moment he moves to lift a pillow, the sound of a key turning in the lock alerts us both to the front door opening. Tanner lowers the pillow to his side.
My mom steps into the room with little spatial awareness, looking down into her purse, searching for something. “Katarina?” she says loudly before looking up to make eye contact with me.
“Hey.”
“Sorry I’m home so late—one of the cooks called in sick, so it got a bit hectic.”
I look at the clock and realize it’s well past 1:00 AM. My gaze darts to Tanner, who has since set the pillows gently on the couch and is now standing tall, ready to be introduced to my mom.
Oh, shit. I guess I should do that.
“Mom, this is my friend Tanner from school.”
Her head jerks as she notices him standing there, a flush coloring her cheeks. “Where are my manners? I’m sorry, Tanner, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Kat’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. M—” He pauses, no doubt realizing the flaw in his thinking. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You may call me Julie.” She gives him a reassuring smile before stepping into the kitchen. She inspects the freezer, clearly noticing the uneaten frozen lasagna. “Did you eat?”
“Yeah, uh—Tanner brought food.”
She nods, peering down at her watch. “Well, I need to get to bed. Randy called off tomorrow, so I have to work a double.”
And there it is, the words I was anticipating.
She’s bailing on Thanksgiving again.
She disappears into her bedroom and I stand in complete shock, though I shouldn’t be surprised .
“Are you okay?” Tanner asks as he approaches and rests his hand against the small of my back.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I wave my hand in an attempt to feign indifference and force out a laugh. My voice cracks as I do.
“Come to my house tomorrow,” he whispers so quietly I can barely hear him.
“I can’t do that. That would be rude.”
“It’s not rude, because I’m inviting you. Come tomorrow—my mom loves meeting new people.”
I dwell on the thought for a moment before turning to him. His eyes are so sincere that I quickly come to a decision.
“Okay.”