(Once) Again

by Theresa Paolo

  I ran my hand down her leg and she rolled to her side, propping her elbow up on my chest to look me in the eye.

  She smiled and I wondered how many times she had smiled since I had left.

  I reached up tucking her hair behind her ear. “I wish you would have asked me to stay. I called you so many times and you didn’t answer. And when I came here and you didn’t open the door, I knew it was time I walked away.”

  Kat looked at me, the skin on the bridge of her nose pinched. “When you came here?”

  “It was about three months after we ended things. I had this urge to see you, and I saw your light on so I knocked on the door and threw pebbles at your window, but you didn’t answer.”

  Kat shook her head. “I wasn’t here. I didn’t see you.”

  Of course she did. And if she didn’t, she had to have heard me. “I saw your light on.”

  “Justin and I switched rooms so I could be closer to Mom if she needed me. Three months after we broke up . . . my mom died. I was probably at the hospital. Justin refused to sit there and watch her die. He was spending a lot of time in his room with his headphones on.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “What about the phone calls?”

  “Justin had my cell because our home phone got turned off. But then he lost it.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “No, I’m not,” she said.

  “I can’t believe this.” All this time I thought she was ignoring me, she wasn’t.

  She sucked in a breath. “There’s something else. I was going to . . . ask you to stay. Our last night after we said goodbye, I came back to find you and tell you.”

  My eyes popped open, and the world as I knew it slipped away.

  “What do you mean? Wh . . . Why? What happened?”

  She sat up, pulling the sheet around her. “I saw you with Kim.”

  Kim. I was never with her when I was with Kat. I wouldn’t. Except—oh no.

  “I went back to our spot and you were there, in the bed of your pickup . . . with her.”

  Oh god, no. All this time she thought . . . I would never. “That wasn’t what you think.”

  “No? Because her tongue was in your mouth.” Kat turned away from me. I couldn’t see if there were tears, but the way her voice cracked there had to be. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Kat . . .”

  She held her finger up, and I would have continued, pleaded my case, but noise came from the front of the house and she hopped out of bed.

  “What was that?” she asked, tugging on her clothes. It was like she had it planned perfectly. The best distraction. I wasn’t letting her walk away. She needed to know the truth.

  “Don’t walk away from me,” I said and pulled on my boxers.

  I grabbed my crutches and stumbled down the hall. By the time I heard the voices it was too late. There, in all my boxer glory, I stood in front of Kat’s little brother.

  “Uh. Hey. Justin right?”

  “Who the hell are you?” His fists balled at his sides. Didn’t he see I was on crutches? Not that I didn’t think I could take him. He was Liz’s age, eighteen, yet he was lanky, with little to no muscle tone. He needed to hit the gym.

  “Josh.” I stuck my hand out in an “I come in peace” gesture. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He stared at my hand for a good, long minute. “No offense, but by the looks of things, I don’t want to touch your hand right now.”

  Kat smacked him upside the head, and I couldn’t help laughing. He made a damn good point.

  “Ow! That hurt.” He rubbed at the dark hair on his head.

  “I don’t care. What are you doing home anyway? Why aren’t you at school?”

  “My psych class was cancelled, so I figured I’d come home for the weekend. Keep my sis company. But by the looks of things, I’m interrupting.”

  “You’re not interrupting anything.” Kat wrapped her arms around her little brother, who wasn’t exactly little anymore, and pulled him against her. “I’m happy to see you. I was just about to heat something up. You hungry?”

  Justin eyed me, taking his time to size me up. Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about what he thought about me, but I loved his sister and I wanted him to accept me. Besides, I had a sister too, and I totally understood where he was coming from.

  “I lost my appetite,” he said and yanked his duffel back onto his shoulder. “I think I’ll head back to school.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Go drop your stuff in your room, and I’ll heat up the leftover ziti I have from the last time you came home.”

  “Fine, but only because cafeteria food sucks and your ziti just happens to be my favorite.”

  I watched Kat, amazed at how quickly she went into mom mode. Justin became her focus and she zeroed in on his needs. And despite the smartass comments from the kid, I could sense there was a mutual respect.

  “Will you still be here when I get back?” Justin asked, giving me another dirty look.

  “Yes.”

  Kat turned the dial on the stove then twisted around. “No. He was just leaving.”

  “Good,” Justin said, and even though he was being an asshole, I respected him.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I love ziti and we still have a few things to discuss.” I moved closer to Kat. Our eyes locked and Justin sighed loudly.

  “Get a freaking room,” Justin said, and about-faced it out of there.

  Kat went to follow him. I fumbled with my crutches and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to me.

  “Please let me explain,” I said.

  This time there were no tears. She threw her hand up, “I don’t need to know,” and turned away from me again. I reached out to her, placing my hand on her cheek and urging her to look at me. The stubborn girl I remembered showed through as she kept her eyes closed, refusing to grant me any satisfaction.

  I ran my thumb across the soft skin below her earlobe, and her eyes shot open. I took that as my opportunity to plead my case. “Yes, you do. Because it was not what you think.”

  Kat stepped back. “Seriously, you don’t need to explain. We had a great night, let’s just keep it at that.”

  “No, because all this time you’ve hated me for a crime I’m not guilty of.” I closed the gap and rested my hand on her cheek. “Look, I was upset after we ended things, after you didn’t ask me to stay, and I went there to . . . I don’t know. I just wanted to be near you and that was the only way I knew how. Kim followed me. Parked her car on the main road. I swear I didn’t bring her there. That place was our place. I would never do that.”

  Kat closed her eyes, and when she opened them, all I saw was pain. “Then why’d you kiss her?”

  I ran my hands through my hair. “I didn’t. She kissed me. She was trying to convince me to take her back and I was trying to let her down gently. Avoid the drama she was so good at creating. And then she shoved her tongue down my throat. I swear to you, I pushed her away.”

  By the way her eyebrow cocked, I knew she wasn’t buying my story. “So I just happened to walk up at the exact moment she kissed you?”

  “Yes!”

  She looked me up and down, but whatever she was looking for, she wasn’t going to find it. I wasn’t lying. I was telling the God’s honest truth. I’d wanted nothing to do with Kim, even before I had ended things with her.

  “Did you really come to tell me to stay?”

  She nodded, and I stepped closer to her.

  “You mean to tell me, you didn’t want me to leave?” I asked again, needing to know I didn’t imagine it. Needing to hear her say she wanted me.

  “It was selfish, and when I saw you with Kim, I couldn’t believe you had moved on so quickly. But I had my chance and I was too late. I accepted it . . . but it didn’t make it hurt any less.”

  “I’m so sorry. I wish you would’ve called me. Or even walked up and thrown a rock at me. We could’ve saved so much time.”


  Kat looked up and shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”

  “That I’m not as awful as you thought?”

  “I should’ve given you more credit.”

  “It wasn’t like I had the best track record.”

  “True, but I knew you, and instead of going with my gut, I let my insecurities control me. I’m sorry.”

  “Can we promise each other one thing? Right now.”

  She glanced up at me and in that moment I knew, looking into her eyes, that even with all the time that passed between us, it was like none had passed at all.

  “Can we stop apologizing?” I asked and because it had been too long since I’d touched her, I ran a finger down her jawline.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Come here.” I held my arm out to her and she snuggled up to my chest. I smoothed her hair down and kissed the top of her head.

  “Oh come on. You two are still at it? There’s a bedroom like right there,” Justin said, pulling out a chair and flopping onto it.

  Kat jumped away and went right to the fridge. “I forgot. Ziti.”

  I hobbled over to the cabinets and pointed. “Which one has the plates in it?”

  “Josh, sit down. Actually, go put your shirt on. Justin, get your butt up and set the table.”

  “Josh is volunteering, why do I have to?”

  “Because he’s on crutches, and you’re not.”

  “What’s that about anyway? Trip and fall?”

  I moved towards him. “No. I got shot,” I said. His blue eyes, the only feature that showed he was Kat’s brother, widened.

  “Cool,” he said.

  It wasn’t. Cool would be the last word I’d use to describe any of it. The shooting, the bullet wound, the recovery. The lives lost. But he didn’t need to know the depth of it. I nodded and then headed to the bedroom to get my shirt. I’d let Kat do the explaining for me.

  The bed was a little messy, so I fixed the comforter and made it look a little more presentable. I wasn’t completely inept.

  I grabbed my shirt off the floor and pulled it over my head. My eye caught on a stack of envelopes on the nightstand. Normally, I wasn’t a nosy person . . . who was I fooling? Yes, I was. I looked to the door and heard Kat and Justin’s voices out in the kitchen. When I was sure they were staying there, I moved to the nightstand.

  I picked up envelope after envelope. Electric company. Water company. Mortgage company. Credit card companies. Different names, but the message was all the same.

  Delinquent payment notices.

  Kat would know if they were missing, so I made a mental note of the ones with the biggest balances.

  For so long she had been on her own. Taking on responsibilities she shouldn’t have had, refusing to let people help her. It wasn’t fair. I knew if she found out, she would kill me, but I wanted to take the burden off her shoulders. Help her move on. The only way she could was by emerging from the anchors that were holding her in place.

  I would cut the lines and free her.

  “Hey, ziti’s almost ready,” Kat said, stepping into the room.

  I turned from the nightstand and smiled. “I was just making the bed.”

  She stepped closer, a wicked look flashing through her eyes. “Why would you do that if we’re just going to make a mess of it again later?”

  “Oh really now?” I asked, grabbing her waist and yanking her towards me.

  “Uh huh,” she nodded. There was a new confidence about her, the same confidence that had taken me almost an entire summer to get out of her our first time around.

  I bent, brushing my lips against hers.

  “I told you, it’s been a while.”

  I took her face in my hands. “Then we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  “We do. But first we have ziti to eat.” I pouted my lips out and she kissed me.

  She reached her hand under my shirt and ran her cold fingers across the waistband of my jeans. “To be continued,” she said and walked out of the bedroom.

  I hurried after her, but when I got to the kitchen ready to pounce, I remembered we weren’t alone.

  Justin shoveled ziti in his mouth, sauce dripping from his lip. “Damn, I missed your cooking.”

  “I can see that.” Kat handed Justin a napkin. “Wipe your mouth.”

  He took the napkin and wiped quickly before shoveling more food in his mouth. “You need to get in on this,” Justin said, pointing to the pan of ziti with his fork.

  The ziti must have put him in a better mood, or maybe it had something to do with what Kat had said to him when I left the room. Either way, I was grateful for the invitation and jumped on it. I took the seat across from him and piled the pasta onto my plate. Kat sat between the both of us and poured soda into our glasses.

  I wondered about the nights after their mother had passed away. Did they sit at this very table and eat, talking about their days? Or did they sit in silence, remembering life as it once was? I hated that I hadn’t been there. But there was nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t change the past, but I could make damn sure I was there for them now.

  They didn’t need to do it alone anymore.

  ***

  Two days later blue tape lined the tan wall. The furniture, including the new TV I’d picked up and all six seasons of Dawson’s Creek on dvd, was moved to the middle of the room and covered in tarps. I leaned against the wall and held the paintbrush.

  “You want to outline the perimeter first,” I said to Justin, who was propped against the opposite wall, his arms crossed, paint roller in his hand.

  He held up the paint roller. “Why can’t we just roll the crap out of it?”

  “Because you don’t want to get paint on the molding,”

  “Where’d you learn all this stuff from anyway?”

  “My grandfather and dad.”

  “Pointless crap if you ask me,” Justin said, and I could hear the acid in his tone. He didn’t have a grandfather or a dad to teach him things. Both had been gone before he was out of elementary school.

  “I didn’t ask,” I said with a smile so he knew I was joking. “It’s actually not pointless at all. I started a side business while I was at school. Hunky Handyman.”

  Justin nearly painted the wall with his Coke.

  “Don’t laugh. I made bank. Just took my shirt off and painted and cleaned pools. Or hung pictures, and those housewives tipped me double my price.”

  “So you were like a stripper.”

  “I wasn’t a stripper. I just knew how to work for tips. Nothing other than my shirt ever came off.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Does my sister know about this business venture?”

  “No. She’d never let me live it down.”

  Justin shook his head and started laughing. “No, she wouldn’t. Something to look forward to.”

  “Let’s just get these walls painted before Kat gets home.”

  I leaned down to pick up the paintbrush and a sharp, shooting pain shot through my leg. “Son of a bitch!” I growled and pressed my hand against the wall to keep from crumbling to the floor.

  “Shit, man, you okay?” Justin dropped the roller and rested a hand on my back.

  “Yeah, my pain pill must be wearing off.”

  “How long until you’re . . . you know, normal again?”

  I wished I could say soon, but the truth was I’d never be normal again. My thigh would eventually heal, but the psychological damage was permanent. Nothing I could do would change that.

  Instead I said, “A while.” I pointed to the kitchen. “Your sister has my pain meds in the cabinet. Would you mind getting me one?”

  “Stay right here.”

  “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on moving,” I said through clenched teeth, afraid if I released the pressure I would scream out in pain.

  I balled my hand into a fist and bit down. Slowly the pain started to dissipate. The pain sucked
. But I survived, for whatever reason. And because of that . . . I manned up and dealt with it. The six people who died would never experience pain again. It reminded me I was still alive. I wouldn’t take it away. As long as it wanted to stick around, to remind me of the life I still had, was fine by me.

  “Here you go,” Justin said and dropped the pill in my hand and held out a bottle of water.

  “Thanks.” I stared at the pill. I hated taking them. It made me feel guilty. The least I could do was suffer for those who couldn’t. But sometimes it was too much to bear.

  “How long does it take to kick in?” Justin asked.

  I tossed the pill in my mouth and took a swig of water. “Half hour tops.”

  “Why don’t you sit, and I’ll get started.”

  I raised a curious eye.

  “You gave me enough pointers. I think I got it. Besides, you can sit in the middle of the room and tell me if I’m doing something wrong. Who knows . . . maybe I can start my own side business at school. It’d be nice to have some extra cash.”

  I stood up straight and smacked his stomach with the back of my hand. “You’d need to start working on those abs first.”

  He wasn’t fat—the total opposite, in fact. He needed meat on his bones. Muscles.

  “Ha.” Justin rolled his eyes, just like his sister, then went and picked up a paintbrush.

  The tarp was draped over all the furniture, so I lifted it off the couch and sat. Justin started outlining the corners, and I gave him more pointers. He looked annoyed when I did, but a part of me thought he appreciated it.

  He was a good kid. According to Kat, he was smart as hell too. Just made a bunch of stupid decisions in the past. But could you blame him?

  “You coming home this summer?”

  “Unless something comes up, I’ll be here. Me and a bunch of guys at school are getting a house next semester, but we can’t move in until the end of August.”

  “If I’m off these crutches by then, maybe we can hit the gym.”

  The brush stopped mid-stroke. “Why?”

  “I think it’d be nice.”

  “Look, just because you’re banging my sister doesn’t mean we have to be friends.”