by Kim Holden
I don’t open my eyes when Keller pulls me up by my hands to stand. I don’t open my eyes when Keller holds me tightly against his chest. I don’t open my eyes as my tears soak into his T-shirt. I don’t open my eyes as he softly murmurs, “I’m sorry, Katie,” and rubs my lower back with his open palm.
When I feel the weight of the last few months lift a little, I open my eyes. My fingers release the material at the back of his shirt I have balled up in my fists and take a step back, wiping at my eyes with the backs of my hands. I heave out a deep, crippling breath, and look up at him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that.”
The corner of his mouth turns up, but there’s no joy in it. “Actually, I kinda did.”
I think back to our conversation earlier. “You allergic to guilt, too?”
He doesn’t blink. “No. It kills me to see you feeling sad. It’s fundamentally wrong that the universe would allow it. You and sadness … they should never be paired together.” He pulls me into another hug. “You said that you don’t like to talk about it. Is that why you never mentioned her before?”
My hands find his shirt again. I have to hold on before the world tilts and I fall right off the side into oblivion. I suck in a breath and shudder. “It hurts.” I wait. “She was my world. Do you know what it’s like to be blessed with someone so special, to love them so much it hurts, and then have them taken from you forever?”
He rests his chin on the top of my head and squeezes me tighter. “I do.”
I sniff. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain … but it sucks, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” he agrees.
“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but who was it?”
“My girlfriend. Fiancée, actually. It happened close to four years ago. Her name was Lily.” He exhales, but he sounds more relieved than sad to say it out loud.
“You don’t talk about her. Does anyone here know?” I keep my cheek pressed against his chest. I don’t want to make him nervous or uncomfortable by looking at him. Eye contact can shut down honesty quicker than anything else.
“Dunc and Rome. I keep my life at Grant and my life in Chicago very separate.” He shrugs. “And like you said, it hurts. Though not as much as it used to. It’s not that I don’t miss her … but that I’ve learned that the living need to be loved, too. And loving someone else doesn’t diminish the love I had for her. I’d never felt loved before her. My parents are very ... ” he pauses, “driven. Very goal-oriented. They didn’t give me love … they just … gave me expectations. They expected good behavior, and good manners, and good grades, and expected compliance with every demand, and expected me to go to law school or medical school because my mother is a lawyer and my father is a surgeon. My entire life was expectations and I met every one of them … until I met Lily.” He takes a deep breath. “She loved me … with no expectations. That was so freeing. When I lost her, I lost that freedom. The expectations returned, but with a whole new set of rules.”
Now I have to look at him, because this is about more than losing someone you love. This is about losing yourself. “Keller, this is your life. You’re the one in the driver’s seat, dude.”
He half-laughs. “Oh no, I’m not driving. I’m the passenger. That’s okay though. Stella’s quite the driver.”
I smile at the grin emerging on his face. “Stella?” My heart should be breaking because I feel like I’m falling for Keller, but knowing I can’t have him (especially after hearing about what happened with Lily) and knowing that there’s a woman out there who makes him this happy. That makes me happy. To know there’s someone who loves Keller and whom he loves back. All the flirting between us, and whatever happened the night of the concert, was all a misunderstanding or misinterpretation on my part. We are friends. Stella is his fairy tale.
He tilts his head and stares at me like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or not. “What are you doing this weekend?”
I shrug. “Probably studying, why?”
“Would you be opposed to studying in Chicago? I want you to meet Stella.” He’s wearing his crooked smile that I couldn’t resist if I tried.
Thinking back to our trip to Milwaukee and all the prompting I had to do to get him to go with me, I tease, “Are you always this impulsive?”
His grin stretches wide and he shakes his head emphatically. “Never. You’re a terrible influence.”
I smile at his honesty. “Well, I have to admit that I’m curious. I would love to go to Chicago with you and meet the mysterious Stella.”
He hugs me again and it feels different. Friendly. Sure, I think. My feelings for him can be tamped down to friendship. He kisses the top of my head and it reminds me of Gus. “Thank you, Katie. You’re an amazing woman … a terrible influence, but an amazing woman.” He rocks me back and forth for a while.
“That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.” It went straight to my heart. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He laughs. “I’m a jackass, but thanks.”
I release him with a sigh. “You better get some more rest, jackass. No work or school for you today. You still look like hell.”
He shakes his head. “You’re full of compliments this morning.”
I smile. “Sorry Keller, I speak the truth. I realize a woman’s probably never told you that before, given your good looks. But, dude, you battled a fierce competitor last night and it kicked your ass. You need to eat this soup, take a shower, and get lots of sleep.”
He shakes his head and smiles. His eyes look sleepy all of a sudden. “I love it when you talk clinical.”
I roll my eyes, but I love it when being around someone is this easy. Like with Gus. After reheating our soup, we eat, and after Keller showers while I wash the pots and dishes, I get him tucked back in bed. It’s 5:00am. I kiss him on the forehead. “God, you smell so much better. The fever sweats had you smelling pretty rank.”
He laughs. “Is it just in your nature to be so complimentary? You’re crushing my ego.”
“Good night, Keller. Call me later and let me know how you’re doing, okay?”
He smiles. “Okay, Dr. Sedgwick.”
He stops me when my hand’s on the door. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone here that you were a rock star?”
I laugh at the absurdity of the title. “Um, because I’m not. That’s Gus’s job. Not mine.”
“You were unbelievable the other night. You have a beautiful voice. I can’t believe no one knew.”
I shrug. I’ve been dodging stares and questions all week around campus by telling people they must have me confused with someone else. “You know how you said you like to keep your life here separate from your life in Chicago?”
He nods.
“Me too.” Because it really is that simple.
“Thanks for taking care of me, Katie.”
I smile and nod before I duck out the door. The walk back to the dorm feels longer than ever. I have to stop twice and sit down. My body aches. It’s exhausted. By the time I make it to the dorms I drop into bed fully clothed. Sleep holds me captive until after lunchtime. So much for classes today.
Keller calls at 2:45pm as I’m walking to the flower shop for work. He says he’s feeling much better and asks for my email address. I have strict instructions to check my email as soon as I get home.
There’s an email waiting for me after dinner, a confirmation for a flight to Chicago Friday night, returning to Minneapolis Sunday evening. What?! I thought we were driving. He brushes me off when I call to ask about the ticket. I can’t afford $527 to fly to Chicago for the weekend. He tells me it’s a gift for nursing him back to health.
Friday, November 4
(Kate)
I pick Keller up at his place at 4:15 to head to the airport. He’s fighting to bite his tongue; he wanted me here at 4:00. Our flight is at 6:30 and apparently he’s an ar
rive-at-the-airport-two-hours-before-your-flight kind of guy. This fact does not surprise me. I’m more a run-to-the-gate-and-hop-on-the-plane-two-minutes-before-your-flight-departs kind of girl.
Since we don’t need to check bags we’re through security and sitting at the departing gate at 5:15. I could give him a hard time, but I don’t. He’s anal and timely and I can appreciate that in him because it’s something I can’t begin to comprehend let alone attempt. I should commend him.
We grab a snack because he says we’re eating a late dinner with his mother tonight. For some reason that makes me a little nervous, not because she’s a lawyer, and probably a wealthy lawyer at that. I can hang with pretty much anyone ... I’ve met them all. And you know what? They’re people … just like me. That stuff doesn’t impress me. What makes me nervous is the tone of voice Keller used when he talked about his parents the other night. There’s fear and resentment there. And that’s always uncomfortable. Good thing I make an excellent buffer.
After our snack I decide I should call Gus to tell him where I’m headed. I’ve texted him the past few days but haven’t told him about my trip to Chicago yet. I don’t know how available I’ll be this weekend and I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him. I also don’t want to be rude talking in front of Keller, so I ask, “Hey, do you mind if I make a quick phone call?”
“Of course not. Take your time,” Keller says.
Gus picks up on the second ring. “Gus’s mortuary, you kill em’, we chill em’.”
I haven’t heard that one and it catches me off guard. I laugh out loud against my will. “Hey Gus.”
“Bright Side, what’s happening in the land of ten thousand lakes?”
“I think that’s a misnomer, because I haven’t seen one damn lake in three months. I’m at the airport, dude, headed to Chicago for the weekend. How about you, amigo?”
“Soundcheck in about thirty minutes. Just had what may go down in history as the most un-Chinese, Chinese food I’ve ever had. It’s weird that there was corn, sweet potatoes, and green beans in my egg drop soup, right?”
“Yeah, that’s weird. Also, it was probably made with chicken broth. Hope you don’t get the meat shits on stage tonight.”
Keller’s trying to mind his own business but I can’t help but notice he smiled at that last comment. He’s supposed to be reading the textbook in his lap.
“I had the waitress swear on her first born that it was made with vegetable broth.”
“Dude, what if she didn’t have any kids? Or she was an atheist?”
“Huh, I didn’t think of that. I might be screwed. So what’re you going to Chicago for?”
“Keller invited me. He’s from Chicago.”
“That a good idea?” I can hear the admonition in his voice.
I offer a curt, “Yes,” and glance at Keller. He’s shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
He huffs. “Listen, I know you’re a big girl, but you’re my girl and I worry about you. I know you said he’s a good guy and was just wasted last Saturday night, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that the dude was totally fucking out of line.” His voice is rising.
“Dude, I am a big girl. It’s fine.” Keller taps me on the shoulder and motions with his fingers to hand him the phone. I widen my eyes and shake my head. He sighs and motions again. “It’s your funeral,” I mutter as I hand him the phone.
Keller clears his throat and puts my phone to his ear. “Gus? Gus, this is Keller.”
I hear Gus’s voice but can’t make out words. He’s talking very loud. Gus, despite his physical stature, isn’t a violent guy. And it takes a lot for him to verbally spar, but once it’s on … it’s on. He doesn’t back down.
“Gus? Gus—” Keller says, trying to get a word in. “Can I say something please? I’ll keep it short. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was rude to you. I’m sorry I treated Katie like I did.” He’s looking at me. “I’m so sorry about that. If I could take it back I would. I feel like shit about it—”
Gus interrupts him.
“I know I should, and I do. It will never happen again—”
Gus interrupts again.
“You’re right. She does deserve better than that—”
More Gus. He’s quieter now.
Keller nods his head like Gus can see him. “Yes, I’ll take good care of her. We’re staying at my parents’ house.”
More Gus. Then, “Thanks man. Later Gus.” He hands me the phone.
Why do I feel like I’m fourteen and going out on my first date? I put the phone to my ear. “Dude, or should I say Dad, the fifth degree? Really?”
He huffs; he’s irritated, but knows he shouldn’t be. I can tell. “Bright Side … ” he trails off, but I can hear the click of his lighter and the inhalation of calm.
“You should quit.” I can’t hide my smile, he’ll hear it and he’s on the verge of letting this go. I know it. He can’t hold grudges either. We’re alike that way.
“You make me crazy sometimes, you know that?” He’s smiling. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t help it.
“I know, dude. Sorry, it’s one of the perks of living in my little world of sunshine and rainbows.”
He laughs. “You forgot unicorns.”
I laugh, too. “I did forget unicorns. Thanks for the reminder. Have an awesome show tonight, dude.”
“Thanks, Bright Side. Have a good trip. Call if you need anything. You know where to find me.”
“Ditto. Love you, Gus.”
“I love you, too.”
“Peace.”
“Out.”
Keller looks at me and shakes his head. “That may have been the strangest conversation I’ve both overheard and participated in.”
I shrug and repeat, “It’s one the perks of living in my little world of sunshine and rainbows.”
“And unicorns.”
I smile. “Why do I keep forgetting the damn unicorns?”
He looks at me and the humor drains away. “Gus seems like a good guy.”
I nod solemnly. “He is. He’s my best friend. And being a good person is number one on my list of best friend criteria. Always has been.”
The corner of his mouth rises. “He’s a little protective.”
I cringe. “Sorry about that. From what I overheard, that was Gus at about a six. You don’t want to see him at an eight or nine. My dad’s never been around, so I think he tries to fill that role sometimes.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You think?”
“Sorry.”
He puts his hand on my knee. “I really am sorry, Katie.”
I look at his hand on my knee and then to his eyes. “I know.” And then I take his hand in mine and tug on it as I stand. “Come with me.” I need to change the subject.
He stands and I release his hand. “Where are we going?” he asks.
“To watch the sunset.” I haven’t seen one for a few days. I’m due. I can see it through the bank of windows on the other side of the concourse.
We watch it in silence, which is the best way. By the time we return to our seats, a quiet calm has settled over both of us.
Our flight departs on time and before I know it, Keller is waking me because we’re on the ground. I hadn’t realized I was so tired. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder, which in hindsight feels a little strange knowing I’m going to meet his girlfriend, Stella, in less than an hour.
The cab drops us off in front of a ritzy high rise. These aren’t your average apartments. These are very expensive, very large apartments. Oprah probably lives here. The doorman greets Keller, “Good evening, Mr. Banks.” He responds with an equally formal greeting. It’s like an alternate universe here. Everyone we pass looks professional, and in a hurry, and uptight, all power suits and briefcases. Which is fine. But no one smiles. It’s sad. There’s plenty of life here … but there’s no life. It’s the difference you feel in the pit of your stomach.
We ride the elevator to the thirty-second floor. We’re near
the top. The elevator goes to forty. “Have your parents always lived here?”
He looks nervous. “Yup. Thirty years. I grew up here.”
I want to say I’m sorry, because this is the least kid-friendly environment I’ve ever been in, but that would be judgmental and I need to put the brakes on any preconceived notions. I need to go into this weekend totally open-minded. “How was that?”
We step out of the elevator into a foyer with a white marble floor and dark, rich mahogany wood walls. There’s a large arrangement of fresh flowers on an ornate, antique table next to the only door. Keller fishes a key out of the pocket of his jeans and looks around before he slips it in the lock. “You’re about to find out.”
He opens the door and steps in ahead of me. He cranes his head to look around and then gives me the all-clear and motions for me to come in, like we’re in a war zone and the coast is clear. We take our shoes off and set them next to the door. Keller takes my coat and bag and I follow him through a formal living room and down a hall. He stops in front of a door and peeks in. “Stella, honey, are you in here?” His voice is sweet and soft like I’ve never heard it. It sounds good on him. He shuts the door. “She must be out with Melanie. Let’s put your things in the guest room.”
“Okay.”
The guest room is opulent. A king-size, four poster bed dominates the room. It looks like it belongs in a castle. It’s dressed in a luxurious deep burgundy spread. I’m fairly certain the bedding costs more than my car. He sets my coat and backpack on a plush, antique sofa across the room from the bed.
“Let’s go see who’s here.” He offers his hand. I take it. I know we’re friends and I don’t have a problem holding hands with friends, but it feels inappropriate.
