Like a Book

by Bette Hawkins

  “She just doesn’t want to get into anything with me. That’s what she says.”

  “I think she doesn’t know what she’s doing. I don’t know, there’s something about her, like she just doesn’t know herself very well, do you see that?”

  “Who knows.” June was becoming tired of discussing it and even more tired of thinking about it. She was prone to melancholy when she was hungover, and thinking about Trish this much was starting to hurt. Why did she want it so much, when she might never have it?

  June poked Ollie in the stomach. “Okay, dude, we need to face the music.”

  They rolled out of bed in unison.

  After she hung up, Trish checked the time. It was past ten and she had no plans for the rest of the day. It was more than a hangover that was making her jittery right now. It was difficult to remember a time that she’d ever been so turned on, and all from just a kiss.

  The contact with June’s body had been like kindling, setting her alight.

  There was an obvious thing that she could do to get some release, but she didn’t want to go there. It would make her think only of June. It would bring back the softness of her mouth, and the muscle under her fingers as she’d moved her hands up June’s arms, toward her throat and into her hair.

  Trish forced herself to get out of bed so she would stop thinking about all of that, and changed into leggings, trainers, and a black hoodie. She jogged down to the nearest dog park and circled it again and again. As her feet pounded on the earth, she ran harder and harder until she was conscious only of the burning sensation in her legs, her chest opening until breathing was easy. Trish needed to use her body like it was a machine, to forget what she really wanted to use it for, how much she wanted June to touch her. She ran for over an hour, sweating out toxins with her thoughts.

  When she arrived home, she wondered if she hadn’t overdone it. She must be hallucinating.

  Katrina sat on her front step. Trish slowed to a walk, ripping her headphones from her ears. Something must have happened. Someone must be sick or dying for Katrina to be here like this without even calling her first.

  “Katrina? What’s going on?”

  Katrina stood up, her arms raised as though she was going to try and hug Trish, but she dropped them when she saw the look on Trish’s face.

  “Hello. Can we talk?”

  Trish put her hands on her hips, still catching her breath. Her face must be beet red, and she was covered in sweat. Katrina had not apologized for the intrusion. Katrina never apologized for anything.

  “You couldn’t call me first?”

  Katrina’s eyes widened. For just as Katrina never apologized, Trish never demanded that she do so.

  “Is this about the house or something?” Trish asked.

  “It’s nothing like that. I honestly just want to talk. Please, can I come in?”

  Trish walked past her, up the steps to the front door. She was too curious to not have this conversation.

  “I’d like to clean up if you don’t mind. You can come in.”

  As they moved inside Katrina looked around. “Wow, you’ve…it looks different.”

  “Made some changes. Maybe you can make a pot of coffee while you wait,” Trish said.

  “Of course.”

  Trish left her in the kitchen. As she stood under the hot needles of water, she thought about the fact that the woman who had lived with her for so many years was a now a guest in the next room. If she knew Katrina at all, her ex would poke around their house for as long as she could hear the shower water running. Her house.

  Let her look, Trish thought. Let her see how different I like things to be when I get to have a say in anything.

  Trish dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, not making any effort. Katrina was always fashionably dressed. Today she was wearing crisp, dark blue designer jeans with a sweater, Italian leather boots, and a very expensive silk scarf. Trish was drying her hair with a towel when she came out to find Katrina in the dining room. There was a pot of coffee and two mugs on the table.

  Before Trish sat down, Katrina looked her up and down. Trish had never been as lean as she was now. After the separation, Trish needed to focus on something that made her feel good, so she’d started running. She had gotten quick results.

  “You’re looking very well, Trish,” Katrina said. “How are you?”

  “Thanks,” Trish said, pouring herself coffee. “I’m a little tired, I was out late last night.”

  “Oh? What were you doing?”

  “I was at a party. What’s this all about?”

  “I was thinking about you.”

  “And?” Trish said.

  “It doesn’t feel right sometimes. That we shared so much of our lives together, and now we’re like strangers.”

  Trish frowned. She had struggled to reconcile that herself, but she always got the impression that Katrina left without looking back. It was heartbreaking that during all their talks, Katrina hadn’t expressed a single doubt about them breaking up. She had laid out the argument methodically like she was in front of a courtroom. She explained that they’d grown apart, that Katrina’s feelings had changed, and that it was the same for Trish even if she couldn’t admit to it. Katrina didn’t want a trial separation or to try to salvage the relationship; she just wanted to end it.

  “I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to be friends. We talked about this. It’s gotten easier for me lately, hasn’t it gotten easier for you too?”

  Katrina was staring down into her mug, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Sometimes. But I still miss you.”

  Katrina reached for her hand, and Trish let her take it for a few seconds. Then she pulled it away and let it rest back on her mug.

  “So, what are you saying, you want to catch up for coffee now and then?”

  “I want to start seeing one another again. We can take it slow but…”

  “What about your girlfriend?” Trish asked.

  “We’ve broken up.”

  Trish crossed her arms. Katrina had been dumped, and now she was seeking comfort in the familiar. Trish was someone she assumed would be there whenever Katrina felt like picking her up again.

  “Why are you looking at me like that? I broke up with her, I’m not rebounding back to you, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

  “You left me. I’ve moved on. And so have you. I think you’re just feeling lonely. I’m not here just to make you feel better.”

  “Trish, it’s not like that. I miss you. All I can think about is that I made the biggest mistake when I left you. Left us, left this house.”

  Katrina’s voice wavered, tears spilling from her eyes. She had barely cried during the breakup, and was never one to cry during fights. It had always gotten under Trish’s skin to see Katrina cry, rare as it was. She quickly moved to get some tissues.

  She put the tissues in front of Katrina and sat back down. Trish didn’t trust herself to hold her, afraid of the feelings that it might bring up. Even a month ago, this would have felt like a beautiful dream. Recently she had ceased imagining it, and had ceased even wanting it to happen. She’d missed the point where it had ticked over, because somewhere along the way she had finally stopped paying attention to any thoughts about Katrina. Yet Trish could not deny the fact that this was affecting her.

  “Are you seeing someone?”

  Trish shook her head, cutting her eyes away.

  “Has there been anyone else, since me?”

  Trish didn’t answer. She didn’t want Katrina to know that she was the last person that Trish had so much as kissed, but then she corrected herself. Last night Trish had kissed someone else, and it had been the kind of earth-shattering kiss that she had never shared with Katrina.

  “Maybe we could just date for a while. I could take you out for dinner and we could just see how it felt?” Katrina said.

  “I don’t know. I really need to think about all of this. This is so out of the blue for me.”

  “Of cou
rse, you need to think about it. I understand completely. Let’s just make a date for next Friday night, and you can let me know if you don’t want to come.”

  It was such a transparent negotiating technique, making Trish agree to something so that it would take more effort to back out. Still, she might as well say yes, if only so that Katrina would leave her alone for now. She needed time to herself to think about everything that had happened, not just today but last night with June as well.

  Trish nodded, then got up to clean up their mugs so that she wouldn’t have to see the satisfied look on Katrina’s face.

  That evening, Trish prepared for their regular family dinner. Since their parents’ divorce three years earlier, Leigh and Trish took turns hosting the meal. The schedule gave equal time to each parent, and tonight was their dad’s turn.

  Leigh arrived first, carrying a boxed cake. “Is he here yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. I wanted to ask about your date!” Leigh said, putting the cake down on the kitchen table and rubbing her hands together.

  “It wasn’t a date. I told you I was just going to watch her play roller derby.”

  “And was that it?”

  “I went to a party at her house, afterward.”

  The bell rang, and Trish bolted for the door. She didn’t know how much longer she could spend around Leigh without spilling everything. Although it was tempting, Trish wasn’t ready to deal with her reaction. Leigh would be livid about Katrina showing up on her doorstep like that. It was for the best if she avoided talking about June. She was still trying to work out how she felt, which was hard enough without Leigh pushing her agenda.

  “Hey, Dad,” Trish said, opening the door wider to let him in.

  He shook rain from his umbrella and laid it on the ground, rubbing a hand over his graying hair. A retired high school English teacher, he still looked the part in his V-neck woolen sweater worn over a collared shirt.

  “Hello sweetheart,” he said, kissing her cheek and passing her a bottle of wine. “Is your sister here yet?”

  “Yes, she just got here,” Trish said.

  Trish had set everything up on the dining table and they sat around, tucking into their steak and vegetables.

  “So, Dad, has Trish told you about the hot young thing she’s been hanging out with lately?” asked Leigh.

  Their father’s eyes sparkled while he looked at Trish. He had always been very comfortable about Trish’s sexuality, and often asked about her romantic life. Sometimes he was just as incorrigible as Leigh, although their opinions differed. Each of Trish’s parents thought that Katrina had hung the moon, and had been devastated when they’d split up.

  “And who is the lucky young lady?” he asked.

  “We’re just friends. There’s nothing to talk about,” Trish said. Images of June and her sweet-tasting mouth ran through her mind even as she issued the denial.

  Leigh shook her head at their father. “Don’t bother. But mark my words, they’re not going to be just friends for long.”

  Trish rose to refill their water glasses, hoping they’d get the hint and change the subject.

  “I’d love to see you in a new relationship, honey. Look at Leigh, she’s settling down. You’re going to have to think about it one of these days yourself.”

  “Why do I have to do that? I haven’t even been single for a year. I don’t have to be with anyone if I don’t meet the right woman. You are two peas in a pod, honestly.”

  Trish rolled her eyes when Leigh and their father exchanged a knowing look.

  “I just wish you’d tried harder with Katrina. She was so perfect. You shouldn’t have let her go,” he said. He shook his head wistfully, as though the break-up belonged in one of the Shakespearean tragedies he’d spent his life teaching.

  Leigh was silent, but she was obviously itching to offer a conflicting point of view. Normally Trish would bite her dad’s head off for a comment like that, but it was different after seeing Katrina.

  “Why do you think she was perfect, Dad? What exactly was it about her, and us, that makes you think that?”

  He put down his knife and fork and took a long draw of water. “Well, it’s nice to know you want my opinion about this for once. You two have the same values. Katrina’s a hard worker, she’s great with money. She knows what’s important in life. There was always something so steady about her.”

  Was it steadiness that made someone a great partner? Did it not matter to him that Trish and Katrina just fundamentally didn’t get along? Sometimes she realized that she and Katrina had been better at putting on a show than she had even realized.

  “So, to be clear, you would be happy if Katrina and I were to get back together.”

  “Over the damn moon,” he said. “Why, is there a chance that might happen?”

  Trish looked at her father and then her sister, each of them sitting frozen with their knives and forks in the air. To frighten the latter, Trish shrugged. “You really never know.”

  Chapter Eleven

  June woke up from a dream that was full of flaxen hair brushing against her face, and the sensation of a kiss upon her lips. June stretched her arms over her head with it all fresh in her mind, her toes curling. It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed about Trish, but this one had reached a whole new level of vividness.

  The first semester at Holt was over, which meant a two-week break from her class, not that a break meant that much to her. It wasn’t a vacation because she would still have to write and work at the bar. At least her schedule was slightly less crazy when she didn’t have to tutor on top of everything else. Today she didn’t have to work at all, and she planned to devote the entire day to writing.

  When she arrived, Trish was already waiting for her at the coffee cart. June wasn’t sure what things would be like after their kiss. They had worked so hard to get to this point in their friendship and she didn’t want to blow it now.

  “Hey. Did you enjoy the rest of your weekend?” Trish asked, playing with a piece of hair that had escaped from her bun. June considered reaching out to push it behind her ear. She knew now what it felt like to touch Trish’s hair, how soft it felt under her fingers.

  Screw it, June decided. There was hardly anyone around. She reached forward and let her hand linger on the side of Trish’s face once she’d moved the hair. Trish’s breath caught.

  “I did, thanks. I was a little tired doing my shift at the bar on Sunday. How about you?”

  “Oh…nothing to report, really. My dad and Leigh came over for dinner.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  They drank their cups of coffee slowly on the steps, neither of them in a rush to go inside.

  “Wow, it’s like a ghost town around here,” June said when they finally walked into the library together.

  “It is. We’re on a skeleton staff. Not many students are as dedicated as you are about your writing.”

  “Or maybe they’re just not as dedicated to being around good-looking librarians as I am,” June said, raising her eyebrows at Trish. Trish grinned back at her.

  “That was very cheesy,” Trish said.

  “I agree. And you loved it.”

  June arranged her things on the desk, enjoying the ritual of laying everything down on the table before she uncapped her pen and smoothed out the page of her notebook. There was only a handful of students scattered around the room. The quiet should be helping her to concentrate, but her mind was too occupied today. It was impossible to measure how many minutes she’d wasted in the time since Trish had started working here. So many hours had been used up on Trish, so many whispered conversations and a thousand daydreams.

  Today, she didn’t feel guilty about it. Today it seemed reasonable to pine for a woman who could kiss her the way that Trish had kissed her. She could indulge herself for this moment, and then go back to trying to push it all down tomorrow. It was exhausting at times, and she needed a break from it.

  Trish climbed the s
mall ladder that helped her reach the top shelf, the outline of the muscles in her calves standing out as she moved.

  Trish was watching her today too. During some of the rare occasions that June had actually been working, she glanced up to catch Trish in the act of averting her eyes.

  June looked back down at her work. She was proofing a hard copy of one of her chapters and scribbling notes in the margins.

  “You’re doing some corrections?” Trish asked.

  June nodded. They didn’t often speak while they were at the library, but it wasn’t surprising that Trish was talking to her today. It was so quiet that there mustn’t be much for her to do.

  “I think this chapter is nearly done, but you know when you’ve looked at something for so long you just can’t tell if it’s any good anymore? I don’t know if it’s even at the stage I’d be comfortable giving it to Anne to read.”

  “I’m no expert when it comes to editing, but if you just need a second set of eyes for grammar and things like that, I’d be happy to look it over?”

  June eagerly handed the papers over to her. “Please, just take it. I could use the help. And be kind.”

  Trish sat on the edge of the desk, close enough that June could reach out and touch her. June looked at Trish’s knee, and at the edge of her skirt just above it. She was near enough that she could slide her hand up Trish’s skirt and along her thigh, if she wanted to. And she did want to.

  Of course, it was far beyond the boundaries of what they had decided. Hugs and hand holding were one thing, something like that was entirely another.

  June drummed her fingers on the desk. This would be much easier if Trish had sat in the chair across from her, and June wondered why she hadn’t. Moments later, as though hearing her thoughts, Trish moved over there. Trish gestured for June to hand her a pen so that she could alter the position of an apostrophe.

  When she was done, Trish looked up at June and smiled.

  “This is a really amazing piece of work. You’re a great writer. It’s just that one thing I corrected, I wouldn’t change anything else.”