Kate adored Audra, despite how bullheaded the girl was at times. The reason Kate stuck around was because Audra was passionate in a way that Kate wasn’t. Audra felt things deeply and Kate managed to get a vampiric jolt of passion from it. It was a case of opposites attract, when she thought about it. When Kate watched Audra in one of her many moments of intensity, Kate found herself getting worked up and she started to believe that she could change the world too. She like it that Audra stuck to her guns and that Kate could generally count on her friend to tell her what she thought and what Kate should do. But . . . sometimes . . . sometimes those same traits Kate admired in Audra got oppressive.
“Ha,” Audra laughed, shaking her head in disappointment. “You are such a bad liar.”
They arrived at Amir’s and went inside. There were a few other people seated at the circular tables near the front. Audra and Kate sat down at one of the empty tables. When the server brought them a menu, they ordered their usual—the hummus and taco. They split a goji berry drink.
Kate took a deep breath. It was such a relief to be in there after the smell of exhaust and summer road construction.
“So what are you going to do?” Audra asked.
The server dropped some glasses of water off at their table and Audra took a drink.
“About what?” Kate asked, intentionally not answering.
“Why are you being so evasive today? What’s gotten into you, Kate?” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “It’s the dreams, isn’t it?”
Kate avoided her gaze.
“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” She reached across the table and grabbed Kate’s wrist. “Hey, look at me, girl. Talk to me.”
“Why should I?” Kate asked, finally, surprised to hear a tone of defensiveness in her voice.
“Oh man, I’ve pissed you off, haven’t I?” Audra let go of Kate’s hand and leaned back in her chair, studying Kate’s face. Audra’s lips weren’t even twitching like she was about to smile. She seemed genuine.
“No, no, I’m not pissed,” Kate said, adjusting her shirt and fidgeting with the hem. “I’m just, I don’t know. I don’t feel like talking about this. I know what you’ll say. I know what you think.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You’ve made it clear a few times,” Kate said.
“What do I think? Tell me,” Audra said, tilting her head down.
“You want me to date Ty and have sex with him so the dreams will stop,” Kate said. “You want me to be super confident and realize that I’m hot and that guys want me.”
“Yep, that’s right. I do think all those things. But Kate, you know you can still talk to me. I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want. I couldn’t, even if I tried,” Audra said with clipped laughter.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Kate said.
“What? Forcing people to do my will?” Audra asked guardedly. Kate nodded and Audra laughed. “Damn right. But who wouldn’t? I’d be an awesome dictator and we both know it.”
“I don’t want that,” Kate said.
“What? Really? Liar.”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t believe I know what’s best for everyone else. I barely know what’s best for me,” Kate explained. The serving guy brought out the goji berry drink. Audra unwrapped a straw and took a long sip. “I just want to take care of myself and see if I can get that right.”
“Aw, sweet girl. Well, look, I’ll be the dictator and you can be my spiritual advisor,” Audra said with a laugh.
“Done,” Kate said. “Except I’ll advise you to stop being a dictator and let people run their own lives.”
“Boring. If you do that I’ll fire you,” she laughed. “Speaking of, what will you do if Darryl closes Suga’s?”
Kate shrugged. “Get a new job?”
“Really, getting the business online shouldn’t be that hard and it will bring in sales,” Audra said.
“I know,” Kate answered. “The problem is uploading all our inventory. We’ve been doing it during work, it just takes a lot of time.”
“Have you had any online sales yet?”
“We weren’t uploading them to eBay or Amazon. Just getting them into a store profile using one of those free online store sites.”
“That won’t help much. You have to put your inventory on Amazon and constantly be creating auctions or buy-it-now listings on eBay.”
“Yeah, well we didn’t think of that.”
“You know now,” Audra said, winking.
“Right. And knowing is half the battle.”
“The battle, really.” Their food arrived and as they ate, Kate’s thoughts drifted toward the night, toward seeing Will again.
17: Brawl
Sleep wouldn’t come for a while. Kate had a date with Ty—or a . . . a something; a date? A hang out? Whatever it was, they were scheduled to be in the same area around the same time, and he was picking Kate up.
Luckily, Audra was at work and Kate intentionally didn’t mention the date (not a date) at their lunch. So Audra wouldn’t be nagging Kate to seduce Ty to stop the dreams. Despite what happened in the dreams with Will (they were dreams), Kate wasn’t that confident about what men wanted in bed. Tom was easy. He just wanted to be loved, he was never selfish, and Kate never had to think too hard about what they were doing.
Why did I let him go, again?
Love, maybe? Maybe Kate never loved Tom. He was easy. He liked her. He treated her well. But that wasn’t a great reason to stay with someone, especially committing a lifetime to them. Tom deserved to feel like he was the most important person to Kate. Or whomever he loved. That girl he was marrying. Stupid girl.
She finished reapplying fresh deodorant, spritzed herself with some perfume, and filled up Brody’s bowl with water. Kate hadn’t seen Jill in a few days. She hadn’t asked Kate to watch the dog, but could Kate stand the thought of him without water when the days were so hot? No. She couldn’t.
While Kate waited for Ty on the old couch in the front room, she scrolled through YouTube clips of LA: Bluefire on her phone, thinking about Will (like a total loser). Ty had tickets to some musical event at the big downtown park. A jazz guitarist.
The sky-blue BMW rolled into the driveway five minutes after six.
“Hey princess,” Ty said when Kate sank into the old leather seat.
“Hey Han.” Kate pulled her seatbelt on. Ty was dressed in a snug dark blue T-shirt and gray shorts that reached his knees.
“Han?”
“Han Solo. You keep calling me princess. Han called Leia princess, well, because she was a princess.” Kate explained.
“Oh right. Well, just don’t go thinking I mean it literally,” he teased.
“I’d never,” she said with mock astonishment.
“So do you have a bike? I should probably know that if we’re going to be hanging out. Riding over would have been fun,” he said as he backed onto the street.
“Yeah, if I had a bike,” Kate answered, finally catching her breath from running out the front door.
“Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know, actually,” Kate laughed. “Maybe I should get one.”
“We could get his and hers bikes—yours could be pink and mine black,” he joked.
“Or vice versa,” Kate said.
“Of course, yes. I could definitely ride a pink bike.” He smiled. “I’m comfortable with my masculinity. I even have a pink T-shirt.”
“Really?” Kate asked, hardly believing him.
“There’s some writing with pink in it. A few stripes. The rest of the shirt is black.”
“Sounds like you’re really comfortable with that masculinity,” Kate joked.
He shrugged and gave Kate a lopsided grin. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the evening light that split through the trees lining the street. “OK, to be honest, I just don’t look good in pink.”
“I doubt there’s any color you don’t look good in,” Kate said. What?
Why’d I say that? He’ll think I’m crushing on him or something. Her stomach did a three-sixty. She glanced at him to see what he was thinking and their gazes collided.
“Well, thank you, Kate. But I wouldn’t know, since I’m more into just wearing the clothes, rather than thinking about them,” he said.
“A likely story.”
He laughed. “You’ll never know, will you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” she teased, surprising herself with her confident verbal sparring.
The city was clogged with evening traffic and it took them longer than usual to get to the downtown venue. Ty parked two blocks away and they hoofed it toward the summer concert. Stretched over the growl of car motors, they heard the blare of music. It echoed in the slot canyons of the city-center buildings, which cast long shadows across the streets and neighboring buildings.
“Sorry we’re late,” Ty said, strolling casually beside her.
“No big deal,” Kate told him.
“I forget that downtown traffic is so gnarly.”
“Me too.”
“Do you?” He asked in disbelief.
They passed a bar as a tipsy couple popped out the swinging door, laughing. The sound of music poured out mixed with the smell of fried food and cigarette smoke.
“Not really. Ha. But don’t worry, I never get annoyed about this kind of stuff.”
“What do you get annoyed about?”
She shrugged. “I won’t know till it happens.”
“I’m not buying it,” he said, grinning sideways at her.
“That annoys me,” she pointed out. “See, I told you I would know it when it happened.
He smiled. “It should. It bugs me when people don’t believe what I say.”
“Right. As though you’re a liar.”
“Not that I wouldn’t lie, from time to time. If the moment called for it.”
“That doesn’t sound like something you should be confessing,” Kate observed, biting the inside of her cheek and wondering if he was playing or using it as a cover to drop in hints of truth.
“You’re telling me you’ve never lied? Or that you wouldn’t if it was for the right reasons?”
They stopped at an intersection. The light was green, but the street running north-south was empty. “We can make it,” Kate announced. Ignoring his question, she stepped off the curb, beginning to cross the street.
Ty grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “Wait a minute. I thought you weren’t in a hurry.”
“I’m not.”
“Then let’s wait till the light changes.”
Kate gaped up at him, shocked at the intensity of his reaction. His brow was furrowed and there was almost a panicked look in his eyes. The corners of his mouth drooped into a frown. Or a scowl. “Ah. OK. I guess I’m just a jaywalker. Thank you sheriff.”
The serious expression was gone, but even as he laughed, he crossed his arms in a defensive posture. “Look, you’re just a body. Those are huge machines of metal and steel. Pedestrian accidents usually result in the pedestrian either being dead or paralyzed.”
She smiled to cover up how weirded out she was by his firm stance on crossing the street. “Fine, no problem. Thank you for preventing me from becoming possible roadkill,” she joked. She tried not to let it bother her, but something about the experience put a bad taste in her mouth. She was silent until they got to the park, which was just half a block more and then up some steep, concrete steps where a crowd of people had decided to sit, smoking and chatting.
It was packed. Kate couldn’t believe that, that many city-folk were this into jazz guitar—Kate never, hardly ever sold jazz guitar albums at Suga’s. Maybe the odd Wes Montgomery or John Scofield album here or there, but nothing else. Who was she kidding? Maybe the people just loved a good open air concert on a weeknight.
Ty handed their tickets to the short, T-shirted lady manning the plastic table at the entrance. She tore their tickets and they slipped between the row of tables that made a barrier around the cement patio. As Ty guided them through the milling mob of sweaty bodies and people carrying plastic cups of beer, Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that a rain cloud had popped over her head after the incident at the intersection. She was embarrassed at her reaction to that moment. She should be flattered that he was worried about her. He did it to protect her, after all. Not to be overbearing and controlling. Right?
“What’s up, guys!” A familiar voice called. Kate stifled a groan.
“Hey Mal,” Ty answered.
“Hi Malcolm,” Kate said, noticing that her voice sounded surprisingly cheery.
“Kate, what’s up!” Malcolm said, slapping her on the back. In one hand he was gripping a red Dixie cup full of beer and the other was waving above his head as he tried to jam to the jazz guitarist up on stage.
Kate peeked through the crowd and caught sight of a shaggy-haired man in his late-forties dressed entirely in black. Black should be slimming and possibly flattering, but somehow this artist brought out the worst traits of the color. Perhaps it was the worn out plain black T, and the faded black denim of his pants. Or maybe it was the 90s black basketball shoes. Whatever it was, he was oblivious, a musical genius bent over his Les Paul, eyes closed, as though he felt the music and channeled it from his mind to his guitar.
Kate shook her head and focused back on the people nearest her. Malcolm was surrounded by other climbers, partying and drinking beer as well. She recognized a few of them from the climbing trip up the canyon. She smiled and they grinned back. Friendly enough. Maybe they could be her friends. If she wanted something—a future, a friendship, anything—with Ty, she should get to know them.
Ty turned to Kate. “You want a beer?”
She shook her head.
“Me neither.” He laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Cool band.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Who is it?” She should probably recognize every musician in the world, working in a music store like she did, even the obscure jazz musicians, but she didn’t.
Ty fished a ticket stub out of his pocket and showed one to Kate. Jack Stark. Jack Stark. Jack Stark. Jack Stark? She drew a blank, which made her feel like a failure as a music expert.
Kate stared at the stage between the writhing bodies blocking her view, only catching snippets here and there of what happened. Malcolm kept undulating like a squid trying to mate with a submarine in an attempt to look cool or dance or something. Kate averted her gaze, feeling awkward just at the sight of him. He turned and flashed the devil-horn hand gesture at her just as Jack’s drummer launched into a mad solo.
“Great band!” Malcolm yelled, grinning hugely.
Kate smiled at him. Conversing during a live performance was never worth the effort.
“You heard them before?” Malcolm asked.
“No,” she yelled back. “You?”
“Nah, but I love it,” he said, swinging his hips, getting into his dancing even more, as though to demonstrate how much he loved it.
“Cool,” she said.
“Hey, you remember Mike, Jason, Lisa, Greta, and Mags, right?” He asked, gesturing to the others dancing and milling about around him.
“Sure.”
Greta turned and smiled and Kate flashed her best grin back. Today Greta had her Oreo cookie-sized ear plugs in, and her dreads were pulled up in a ponytail.
“Fantastic,” Malcolm said.
“Who’s watching the gym?” Ty asked, just as the music stopped.
“Koji,” Malcolm answered.
“Anyone else? That’s kind of a tall order for a week night just for one dude,” Ty observed.
“Casey was going to show up to climb, so they’ll both have it under control. They’ll set a few new routes, too,” Malcolm answered with a nonchalant shrug, as though managing a business was no big thing. He looked into his Dixie cup, tilted it upside down and a few amber drops rolled out. “You guys want a beer? I need a refill.”
“No thanks,” Kate answered.
Ty shook his head.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Sorry Ty,” Malcolm said, his face softening and his brow darkening. “Sorry man.” He said, clapping Ty on the shoulder in a surprisingly tender move as he walked away, pushing through the crowd toward the beer table at the edge of the square.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kate heard Ty say in a quiet voice.
The band dove into a new song with a crash of drums, bass, and guitar beginning all at once, but Kate wasn’t paying attention. She stared at Ty’s face, wondering what that weirdness was.
Ty’s gaze shifted toward her. She’d turned fully toward him, her back to the stage. A smile crept up his cheeks. “What?” he asked, lowering his gaze and blinking.
“Why is Malcolm so sorry for offering you a beer?” Kate was suddenly thinking that maybe Ty was an alcoholic. Maybe he’d done time for drunk driving. Maybe he was in juvie for under-age drinking. Her mind ran wild.
Ty laughed. “He’s just a little drunk already and he’s one of those loving, gushing drunks.” He inhaled through his teeth, shook his head and swung his arms in a casual way. There wasn’t much room and his hands bumped into Kate’s stomach. “Oops, sorry.” He laughed.
Kate shrugged and grinned widely. Probably too wide, but she didn’t want him to read what she was thinking. I guess I do lie, she thought. But so? Ty wouldn’t tell her. He was lying, about whatever it was that made Malcolm apologize about the beer. Must have been really bad. Kate’s eyes narrowed, watching him enough that he began to blush.
Twilight had deepened. Beneath the shadow of the downtown high-rises, the evening took on a mystical quality. The crowd throbbed around them. They were drunk. The music could have been pan-flutes played by a junior high pan-flute club and the audience would have been giddy over it. Ty laughed beneath Kate’s smiling-scrutiny.
A Boat Made of Bone (The Chthonic Saga) Page 20
