30. Chapter 30
30
I ’ve seen what I needed to see of my life without Kara in it.
I love my life, I’m content with what’s in it. Even with the aches and pains of missing her, I could probably do it just fine. Those feelings would eventually fade.
I’m just too stubborn to let them.
“We’re going to get to know each other,” I explain as I get comfortable on Kara’s black, faux leather couch.
She looks at all of the things I’ve sprawled on the glass coffee table, and she’s speechless. I watch her open and close her mouth a couple times, like she wants to give some response but doesn’t know how.
Ten points to Reya.
I went to the store and grabbed all of my comfort snacks, and some I thought she might like. I don’t even know her snack preferences, so that thought alone really solidified my plan to do this.
I haven’t often seen what it looks like when I take her by surprise, but it’s just as stunning as the rest of her looks. She wears bright blue biker shorts, and a tiny white tank top. She’s not wearing a bra, and it’s a miracle that I manage not to stare at her perky breasts, and the pointed nipples poking through the fabric.
Obviously I look a little , but I don’t stare.
Her hair is sitting in a loose bun, her face is free of makeup.
“You think we don’t know each other?” she whispers.
I shake my head.
“I know we don’t. You know I’m naturally blonde, and you know I’m divorced, but you don’t know why I’ve been dying my hair since I was fifteen or why my ex-husband is the person I can stand the least on this earth.”
Her head slowly but surely moves in a nod, before she takes a couple of cautious steps towards me.
“I know you’re a student that hates homework, and loves cheesy reality television,” I continue. “But I’ve asked you a lot more questions than I’ve gotten answers for. There’s more to both of us than we’ve gotten to show over the last couple of months.”
“Do you do this with all of your girlfriends?” I see it for the attempt to be teasing that it is, but it doesn’t work on me. There’s vulnerability in those words.
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’ve never felt serious enough about anyone to need this kind of conversation to happen.”
She inhales a ragged breath that has me certain she’s holding back tears.
“And you–” she clears her throat. “You feel serious about me? Even after everything?”
“Even after everything,” I confirm softly.
It’s what she needed to hear before taking a seat next to me, crossing her legs and holding onto her knees like a kid who’s nervous to be at their first sleepover. In a way, that’s exactly what she is. What both of us are. Just two kids figuring out how to love this intensely for the first time in their lives, and hoping the other might have some idea of what we’re supposed to do.
But it’s kind of beautiful that neither of us do.
Our conversation is a long one, but I don’t realize just how long until I glance at my phone and see the early morning hour. It doesn’t matter, it’s not going to make me stop anytime soon.
I told her about Caleb and every last detail of our frustrating past.
“My parents actually separated for a couple of years when I was in elementary school. I think it was because of me, but they’d never admit it in a million years. I was a difficult kid, acting out for the fun of it. I got really good grades, and loved school, but I’d go and get suspended over the dumbest stuff.”
“Like what?” Kara asks with an interested grin.
“Like pulling things out of the community garden when I thought no one was looking.” I put my hands up in surrender before she can say anything. “I was so fascinated by carrots. It didn’t matter how many of them I pulled out of the ground, it was so exciting every time!”
Her head falls back with her laughter, and I join in.
“I can’t blame you there. I’d probably want to do the same.”
“I haven’t learned my lesson, either. If there was a garden in front of me right now, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“We can be carrot vandals together,” she says.
“Perfect,” I agree.
My mouth is already dry, and my throat is already scratchy from all the talking I’ve been doing. I don’t let it phase me, just feeling good about getting everything out there.
I can’t remember the last time my life felt this hopeful. It’s not that I didn’t have any before Kara. I’ve always been hopeful that Dahlia will continue to get more and more amazing every year. That she’ll do great things. That coparenting will get easier, and I’ll stop worrying every second she’s not with me. Most of it has revolved around her.
She’s always been such a light for me, always made me feel so much excitement for whatever the next day brings.
But she’s depended on me all these years, and I’ve depended on… no one. Caleb tried for a couple months. My best friends have the capacity for it a few times a year, and I’m not ungrateful for that. They’ve helped me through a lot.
But I want this everyday. I want to end my long days of being in charge, and being needed, with someone I can need without feeling guilty. Without feeling like a burden. I want someone I can laugh and cry with every single day and know that they’re happy to do it, because they’re my person. I’m their person.
“Tell me about your childhood,” I say cautiously.
“Oh boy,” she says on a sigh. But the wall that’s usually placed between us at any mention isn’t there now. “What do you want to know?”
I blink away my surprise, and grab a handful of potato chips while I think. If I only get one answer out of her, what is it that I’d want?
It comes to me quickly.
“You never… explained about the scars.”
Her head hangs low at that, but still no wall. It’s a miraculous and curious thing, and I’m on the edge of my seat to know what drove her to that. To know if there’s someone responsible.
“My depression was a lot worse when I was a teenager. My home life, mixed with puberty, and a school full of assholes was a recipe for disaster.” She gives me a look that seems to ask if it’s necessary to continue, and I give her an encouraging nod. I have a feeling it’s the first time she’s talking about any of this with someone besides her therapist, and I want her to feel the relief that comes with confiding in someone she can trust. “My parents were together, but weren’t. We had two houses, and they weren’t often in the same one at the same time. My mom was busy with a lot of work here, so my dad was out of town a lot. I couldn’t go with him, but I tried all the time. I’d sneak into his truck with a backpack, but he always found me and told me to go back inside. I don’t think he would’ve if he’d known back then how bad she was,” she says, thoughtfully. “She had such bad anger problems. She’s always been angry at everything , especially at me. She only ever lost it far enough to hit me once, but it’s a day I’ll never forget. The rest of the time she was throwing things, or hitting things, or slamming doors.”
“That’s horrible,” I whisper. I didn’t want to interrupt her, but it slipped out in my shock.
“She shattered a mirror one time, and I remember waiting and waiting for her bad luck to kick in. I was so sad when it never did, I wanted her to have some sort of consequence for the way she treated me. I told the school counselor when I was thirteen, and they sent a social worker to our house. My mom was so nice and smiley to that woman, I don’t blame her for buying the act. She made her believe silly little Kara just needed some attention. I didn’t have bruises, I wasn’t being neglected as far as they could see. That’s when I first got thrown into therapy, but it couldn’t help me as long as I was living with her.” Her voice cracks on the last word, not from emotion, but overuse. She cracks open one of the cans of Pepsi I brought us, and takes a few sips. “She wanted me to know I was a burden, a waste of space, a waste of food . That was a big one. I was either a pig for finishing my meals, or an ungrateful shit for not finishing them. I still struggle with eating sometimes, hearing her voice in the back of my mind.”
“I hate her,” I blurt out. “I hate that she got away with doing that to you.”
Kara nods like she’s heard the words before, but it is what it is.
It shouldn’t be the way it is.
I should invent time travel to protect the younger version of this woman in front of me. Of course she’s complicated, and cold, and confrontational. I’m not surprised at all that the Kara I first met was the way she was. I’d be mad at the world, and hate everyone if I’d been cursed with a mother like hers.
“She’d have me do the most random chores, clean the most random things. It was all very Cinderella with the wicked step-mother, except I wished I wasn’t actually related to her.” I reach out to hold her hand, and she clutches mine back tightly. “I only dealt with that by shutting down. If I was quiet, and stayed out of her way, I wouldn’t have to face her as often. But I took that to school with me. It was easier if I didn’t talk, didn’t try. I had bullies didn’t like that very much. What good was someone who wouldn’t react? They took it pretty far in their attempt to get me to do something .”
She wipes under her eyes, and I feel like kissing her for sharing this vulnerable piece with me. I can’t imagine how hard it is to think about, let alone speak about.
“The music,” she adds. “That was her fault, too. That I got used to it. She’d have men over, and things would get… noisy. I had to drown it out somehow.”
“Of course you did,” I say softly. “You could have just told me right away. I would’ve understood, and been more eager to come up with a compromise.”
Her cheeks turn a darker shade, and I watch her nervously.
“About that…” she says. “I was going to. I actually–-I spoke with everyone else that first week to explain. Followed up with gift cards a little later to thank them for understanding. ”
My jaw drops.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I feel residual anger rise up in me, and try to tamp it down quickly. It was such a hard time for me, and it’s even harder to hear that it all could’ve been avoided. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“You weren’t home.”
I wave my hand, insisting she explain more.
“And then you left that note, and I was feeling petty. It had been a particularly bad night, and I wasn’t in a good headspace. I wanted the world to revolve around me,” she says, her tone apologetic. Ashamed.
“But you got four gift cards,” I realized.
Her eyes widen.
“How the hell do you know how many gift cards I bought?”
“I saw you. At the ice cream shop.” The image of it comes rushing back to me, along with how appalled I was at her attitude. “You really need to be nicer to customer service workers.”
She grimaces.
“Yeah, I do,” she admits plainly. “I’m working on it. Not taking my emotions out on others has been a recurring topic in therapy.”
I swear I love her a little more every single time she mentions therapy.
“Moving on now,” she says with a nervous laugh. “I want to know how you met Autumn and… him.”
A knot forms in my stomach.
“Can you tell me what he did?” I ask, scared of the answer.
She places a hand over mine, and gives me a soft smile.
“Don’t panic, I don’t have any devastating news about his character or anything.” I instantly take a relieved breath. “He just wasn’t willing to deal with me like my husband should have. He tried at first, I guess. Until I stopped trying, and he couldn’t figure it out anymore. It was hard. I was really mean in my attempt to… I don’t know what it was. I think I was testing him, proving further that I’m better off alone.” She sighs.
“I hate the way I treated him, honestly. I try to forget it, to pretend that time in my life never happened. I know it sounds pretty pathetic, not wanting to face my own actions.” Her eyes glue to mine before she speaks her last sentence. “He proved me right in a way, and I didn’t want to live with that. With thinking everyone would.”
I won’t.
I grab her chin, and force her to face me. She doesn’t get to hide from what I’m about to say.
“Kara, you are a fighter. Despite all the bullshit you’ve had to put up with in your life, despite all of the shitty people you’ve come across, you fought to keep going. You did what you had to do in order to keep going. I’m so fucking proud of you for that. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about it, or about the person you are. That just sucks for them, because they’re too lazy to look any deeper. Even I’m a little guilty. You did give me plenty of reasons to write you off, to hate you even, at first. But thank goodness you couldn’t get enough of all of this,” I motion to my body, resulting in a laugh through her tears.
“I say all of that, while also acknowledging that Miles is one of my best friends, and—really sorry if you don’t want to hear this—he’s great for Autumn.” She narrows her eyes, but nods. “As much as I wish the memory of your marriage wasn’t this burden you carry with you, I’m glad it happened the way it did. If you had been meant for each other, we wouldn’t have ended up here,” I say.
Her head falls to my shoulder, and my head lands on hers. It’s a comfortable silence.
“It still pisses me off that he made you think you weren’t worth trying harder for. I promise I’ll keep trying, until the day you genuinely don’t want me to anymore. You just need to let me know.”
“I don’t think that day is going to come,” she whispers.
I hope she’s right.
We stay up so late, continuing to talk. I feel like I could start writing Kara’s very own encyclopedia by the time she starts to yawn between her words, and the silence between our sentences grows longer and longer. She goes from sitting up to slowly sliding down and down until she’s laying on her side. I do the same, just wanting to be on her level.
She gently kisses my cheek, and it’s the last thing she does before falling asleep right there.