48. Katy
Chapter forty-eight
Katy
A n instrumental homage to Taylor Swift plays softly from the corner of Ruth’s living room. It looks and smells the way it always has—neutral, stylish decor, vanilla with a hint of coffee and something savoury. Just the way it did last week when I ran here. But it feels different, somehow. It’s an unsettling contrast of familiarity and coldness. I feel safe here, but I don’t quite feel at home anymore, and I’m all at once devastated and terrified that I might never get that feeling back.
I lean into Jay lightly as he rests one arm against my back, rubbing tiny circles against my hip with his thumb. It’s subtle, but Ruth catches it anyway, eyeing his hand placement for just a moment, before breaking away with a barely imperceptible twitch of her lips. Anyone else might have missed it, but I know Ruth. She invited us all over, promising she was okay with my relationship with her brother, but she still can’t quite look either of us in the eye.
Behind me, Jay leans across to take the phone Cam offers, grinning at something on the screen before handing it back. I shift against him, trying to get comfortable again.
“I’m just glad you’re not hiding anymore. Nice to see you both smiling for real.” Cam takes a long drink from a beer bottle before dangling it casually between his fingers.
“Yeah, I mean, thinking about it, you have been different lately. Smilier.” Paloma shoots me a wink. I smile back. It hasn’t been easy to keep a secret. It never is. Especially one I know will hurt people, like this one has. And especially when it’s one I’m desperate to share with my best friends… like this one.
“It’s never easy to lie to people you love,” Jay says carefully. I can sense the delicate, tactful way he’s trying to choose the right words. “And it just… became a habit for us to not say anything. With Roo working away so much lately, too, it was too easy. We should’ve said something much sooner.” He leans forward to grab his beer from the table, pressing his chest against my back as he does so. My skin prickles with anticipation at the contact.
Annoyance flashes across Ruth’s face for a split second. Just when I think she’s about to protest, she does the opposite.
“I’ve been busy ,” she insists, a haughty air to the way she tosses her hair over one shoulder. It’s very Ruth .
“Busy getting dicked by Cowboy Boo,” Paloma grins cheekily. Jay splutters on a mouthful of beer and Ruth glares. Cam slaps lightly between Jay’s shoulder blades. It’s a fine to-do; all of my favourite people getting involved in everyone else’s personal business. Just the way it’s always been.
“Something you want to tell me, Roofus?” Jay quirks an eyebrow in his sister’s direction after recovering from his minor choking fit. Even before their fight, I know Ruth was trying to keep her situationship—relationship—whatever-it-is-ship—with Everett quiet. I know she had no plans to say anything to Jay. Not yet, at least.
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Ruth says drily, before downing half a glass of wine like a shot.
Amie walks back in with her shoulders slumped.
“I stole a tampon, Roo,” she announces quietly. “You need to stock up. And your soap is getting low.” Ruth’s face softens as Amie plops herself down on the sofa and cuddles into Cam’s chest. From my seat beside him, I hear the words he whispers as he presses soft kisses into her hair.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says quietly. “It’ll happen when it’s meant to.”
“ If it’s meant to,” Amie sighs in response.
I lean harder into Jay and he tightens his hold on me, dropping his lips to the top of my head. I squeeze his hand at my waist as a flash of red streaks across the room. The cushion beside me dips as Paloma squeezes herself in the space between me and Cam, lightly slapping at his hands until he relinquishes his hold on Amie so Paloma can wrap her long arms around her. Ruth follows, crouching in front of the sofa on Amie’s other side, and I join them, kneeling at Amie’s knees, resting my upper body in her lap as the four of us hold each other.
Over our heads, Cam and Jay exchange a look. I feel a hand on my arm, and when I look over, it’s Ruth. She looks me right in the eye and shuffles closer, leaning her head against mine. I find her other hand in the tangle of our limbs and squeeze it. She threads her fingers between mine and slowly, what’s left of the ice begins to thaw.
Four days later, I slip my cool hand into Jay’s warm one as we make the short walk from the bus stop to the intimidating, white-walled building that houses our favourite cocktail bar. A lot has happened in the last few days. I’ve spent a lot of time with Ruth and Paloma, catching up on their lives and all I’ve missed since fighting with Ruth. Ruth and I aren’t quite back to the way we were, but we’re getting closer every day, and my heart is growing a little bigger, a little stronger, every time Ruth texts me a dumb joke or silly selfie. I had no idea how much I really missed her until I didn’t have to anymore, and I hope to god I never have to miss her like that again.
I feel Jay stiffen beside me as the loud music and heavy bass spills through the walls and the closed doors of Pacifica. Flashes of the last time we were here play in my mind; his haunted expression, the smile that never quite reached his eyes. The warmth of his body as I linked my arm with his to stay close in the crowd. I grip his hand tighter.
“We don’t have to do this, love. We can go home instead. Make an excuse.”
“Princess, as long as the night ends with my face buried between your legs and you saying yes, sir , I don’t care what we do. We’ll do whatever you want. I’m okay. If you want to stay, we’ll stay. It’s girls’ night, after all.”
I shudder involuntarily as my body reminds me of the sensation of having Jay between my legs. His mouth on my pussy, his fingers playing me expertly until I come apart. The way we both loved it when I called him s ir , even though I’d never done it before, and it surprised both of us. Just the thought of it is enough to have my pulse racing and my underwear damp, and we haven’t even walked into the club yet. My lips turn up in a smile.
“Girls’ night—with the guys,” I say with a smirk. Cam and Jay are joining us, gatecrashing the regular night out we’ve enjoyed at Pacifica every other month since Maisy was a year old and Amie no longer had to be on hand to breastfeed her. “But, if that’s how you want the night to end, then I should probably tell you I’m planning on a little midnight snack myself,” I whisper, stretching up on my toes to bring my lips to his ear. I flick out my tongue to touch his earlobe and he shudders.
“Are you sure you want to stay, Princess? Because we could—”
I grip his hand in mine and pull him towards the door, laughing as we go. We flash our IDs at the bouncer at the door and he waves us in. Paloma and Ruth are already there, holding court at a table in the corner beneath one of Pacifica’s signature purple downlights. Lo’s hair glows an eerie shade as Ruth waves us over with a dramatic arm motion.
“Hey, bro,” she says shyly, reaching up for a hesitant hug. “Hi Katy.”
I hang onto her for a moment longer than necessary when she hugs me. Our friendship is still tentative, but I’ll do whatever it takes to show her I’m still Katy, and she’s still my Roo. Paloma squeals from the table and I look around to see Amie and Cam arrive, hand in hand. Cam and Jay share a handshake and a manly back-slap before Cam kisses us girls on the cheek in greeting, and I hug Amie tightly.
“You okay, love?” I whisper-yell into her ear as I squeeze her.
“Yeah. No. Yeah, I’m okay.” She pulls away and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re dull and lifeless, and I’ve only ever seen them that way twice in the twenty years we’ve been friends. I skim my hand down her arm and grab her hand, waving to Roo and Lo with the other as I drag Amie in the direction of the bathrooms.
It’s loud in there, but not as loud as it is out in the bar. There’s enough of a reprieve that we can hear ourselves think and hold a conversation with only slightly raised voices, rather than yelling at the tops of our lungs.
“Talk,” Ruth demands as soon as the door closes behind us. Surprisingly, we’re the only ones in here, and we huddle together by a sink. Lo pulls a lipstick from her clutch and reapplies it in the mirror.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“We got that much, Sweet Thing,” Roo says kindly. “What else?”
“And… I’m not pregnant. That’s it. That’s the tweet. I’m not fucking pregnant.”
“Amie…” I wrap my arms around her torso, clinging to my best friend from the side. She returns my embrace immediately with a quiet sniffle.
“I know it’ll happen when it’s supposed to, blah blah, but I got pregnant with Maisy through a fucking condom, and now we’re rawdogging it constantly and I can’t do it? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you, love,” I whisper into her hair.
“You’re perfect, Sweet Thing. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Ruth agrees.
“You know all those stories about people getting knocked up when they stop trying and stressing about it? Just let ol’ Hey-Zeus take the wheel for a bit.” Paloma pouts at her reflection, smacking her lips together before she finally turns back to us, lips plump, glossy, and violently red. “And in the meantime, we’re here for you.”
“I just want to give him that. He missed it all with Maisy and he wants it so badly. I want it for him. I want to do it all with him.” A tear tracks down her face, and Paloma reaches up to brush it away as more begin to fall. Within seconds, the four of us are tangled in a tight embrace, and at least three of us are crying.
“We’ve got you, love. Whatever it takes. Whenever it happens.”
Another moment passes before we break apart.
“I need a wee,” Ruth announces, breaking the tension as she flounces off into a cubicle. Paloma follows into the next one, and Amie and I lock eyes, shrug, and do the same. Might as well. A few minutes later, we finally return to our table, where Cam and Jay are slouched in chairs, legs outstretched and spread wide, trading phones with photos of old cars on the screens.
“Thought you’d fallen in.” Jay looks up and follows Ruth with his eyes as she passes behind him to an empty chair and drops into it. She slaps him lightly. It’s playful. It’s not quite as easy as their relationship was before, but it’s getting there.
We’re all getting there.