Taste: A Love Story

by Tracy Ewens

  Kara, pulled a light cover-up over her tank top and slowly walked over to the half wall of her bedroom. She looked down at Jake who was now violently flipping through the paper.

  “Jake, honey?” she said gently, because she had never seen him so upset.

  He glanced up, tears welling in his eyes. She walked down the stairs, took him into her arms, and he started to cry. She held him until he pulled back, quickly wiping his eyes.

  “This is so stupid. I shouldn’t be crying, but I get so damn tired sometimes.”

  “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Jake sat back down and Kara joined him.

  “The Strickland School, they won’t let Eloise in.”

  “What? I thought she was a shoo-in? References—and her tests. What happened?”

  “Her father and I happened, that’s what happened. We got the rejection letter in the mail yesterday and I called to find out why, you know? What went wrong? The woman in admissions told me on the phone that they didn’t think Eloise was the right ‘fit’ for Strickland and that the children at their school were more ‘traditional.’ She paused before saying ‘traditional.’ The bitch paused, you know how uppity meanies do when they want you to understand that traditional means much more than just the word?”

  “Yes, I do. I’m very familiar with uppity meanies. I’m sorry.” She touched his hand.

  Jake let out a breath of what seemed like resignation. “I’m just so tired of this. I get that we’re not the norm, but we live a life like every other family. We have a house, we raise our daughter who we fought tooth and nail to even get. There’s a whole group of people who would have rather seen Eloise raised in foster care than by two gay men.”

  “I know, but she’s yours, Jake, and no one can take that away.”

  “But there’s always more and more damn hoops. What am I supposed to tell her?” He started to tear up again, but dismissed it with a quick swipe of his hand.

  “Jake, you’re going to tell her what every parent tells their child when the world isn’t fair. You’ll tell her she’s brilliant and wonderful and that sometimes people can’t get out of their own way.”

  “Is that a Nanaism?” He smiled through his tears.

  “Sure is. I’m telling you the woman was brilliant.” She leaned over to hug him. “It’s going to be all right. Not right this minute, but eventually.”

  “I know. Now, what was your fashion question?”

  “Oh, well, it’s not important now.”

  “Yes it is.” He went up the stairs to her bedroom.

  “And for the record, I ask your opinion because you’re a good dresser. Do I even need to say that to you?” Kara asked.

  “Oh, I know. I was just practicing my righteous indignation. Cotton thinks we should sue the damn place. I’m working myself up into the angry gay man.” He laughed as they walked through the glass front door of Kara’s bedroom.

  Kara gestured to the bed. “Well, what do you think?”

  Jake ran his hands along the material. “Silk?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s gorgeous. A bit of a departure for you, but I’ll bet Logan will love it. It’s gorgeous, honey.”

  “Yeah well, it’s not for Logan, it’s for me.”

  “Okay.” He seemed careful not to trip the dangerous wire that was no doubt lurking somewhere in their conversation. “So if this isn’t a ‘let’s make up’ date dress, what’s it for?”

  “Why it’s the spring social, Jake.” Kara batted her eyelashes. “You mean you weren’t invited to the Bradburys’ annual Hop Into Spring Social?”

  Jake laughed. “Aw shit, did you draw the short straw?”

  “Grady took St. Patrick’s. He says it was because he was a family beer expert, but I’m pretty sure it was because I was . . .”

  “A wreck?”

  “Not quite a wreck. Let’s just say I was working remotely from the beach. Indisposed, as my Nana would say.”

  “Whatever you say, sweetie. Eloise is still talking about the beach, so you can invite us up for dinner anytime you’re indisposed.”

  Jake turned his attention back to the dress and shifted his head a little in surprise.

  “The big fancy let’s get the rich and powerful families together on Coronado Island weekend spring social, that one?”

  “Yes, smart-ass. That’s the one. Do you think it’s too casual?”

  “Not at all, it’s nearly floor-length. Perfect for early spring and I love the tie at the back of the halter, but Kara this isn’t the paper doll stuff you normally wear to these family events. Shouldn’t you be down at Bitch and Bitchier, picking out some shapeless frock in sensible raspberry with a pineapple purse?”

  “I probably should. Old Kara would, but I’m sick to death of her. This dress is me. It’s a statement dress.”

  “And you’re looking to make a statement?”

  “I am.”

  “Care to share the statement?”

  “I no longer wear pigtails and it’s about damn time I dressed myself. Oh, and orange is my signature color. Orange, so back your shit up, Momma.”

  “Oh, that’s a statement I can definitely get behind. It’s perfect. Shoes?”

  Kara pointed to the shoes sitting on the lush linen-colored carpet of her room. They were high, multicolored, and strappy. Jake gasped.

  “Yes.” He nodded and turned her to face him. “You will be, well, you will be vibrant, delicious you.” He kissed Kara on her cheek and grew emotional again. “Now, silk is not forgiving, so we best get to yoga so you’re all tight and dewy.”

  Kara laughed. “True. And there’s still the matter of your blocked chi.”

  “Let’s go beat the asshole into submission.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The following afternoon, Kara arrived at the Bradburys’ house right on time. The silk of her orange dress swished past her legs and her sandals were not nearly as uncomfortable as they appeared. She felt great and even though it had taken her a while, she was on her own terms. Sure, it wasn’t as simple as finally choosing her own dress, but it was a start.

  The Bradburys had a large green yard complete with the longest white picket fence Kara had ever seen. She went to high school with one of their daughters and as she rounded the side of the house toward the entrance where the band was playing, Kara remembered when she fell off the golf cart at Crystal Bradbury’s thirteenth birthday party. There had been too many of them in Mr. Bradbury’s cart and when they took a sharp turn in the circular driveway, Kara had gone flying. She could still see the scar on her knee some days and especially when her legs started to tan in the summer. That was years ago, she thought, as she was now greeted by Crystal’s parents. Kara exchanged niceties and was ushered over to the refreshment area while the Bradburys greeted their other guests. So much had changed since that birthday party. She wondered if Crystal still wore lavender; if she remembered correctly, that was her signature color. Christ, they really had been paper dolls for their mothers to play with.

  Kara took a seat on one of the white chairs placed in little clusters around the yard. She sipped her lemonade.

  “Where’s Logan?” Grady asked thumping down in the seat next to her.

  Kara stiffened at the mention of Logan’s name and her brother, of course, noticed.

  “I’m not sure. I thought you were sitting this one out. Why are you here?”

  “I was all prepared to throw you to the bunnies here at the Hop Into Hell Social, but Kate thought you might need me. Crazy right? Maybe you’ll tell me what happened now?”

  She sighed. Her brother was relentless. “A lot of things have happened, Grade.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  She could tell he was being careful, trying not to push too hard.

  “I’m good. I love him, but he won’t let me in, so it’s not going to work out. Turns out Paris was about as close as he was ever going to let me get. Oh, and his mother didn’t die.” Kara tried to g
et it all out in one swoop.

  “Excuse me?” Grady asked crossing his legs and leaning in closer.

  “She left them, ran away with some rich guy. She isn’t dead, she’s just gone.”

  “How’d you find that out?”

  “Makenna. When I interviewed her. I mentioned something about their mother dying and she looked at me like I was nuts.”

  “Oh wow, that’s rough. Is that all you’re fighting over?”

  “You know, I think I liked you better when you were sad, alone, and hiding. Being in love and finally running your foundation in the open has made you a little annoying.”

  Grady laughed.

  “At what point do you start acting like my brother and defending me?” Kara asked.

  “Um, okay well he should not be giving you such a hard time about your games, when he’s playing one himself. Is that better?”

  “Yes, much.”

  “However you want to look at it, this is all just garbage getting in the way, Kara. You two need to figure it out and clear this stuff up.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. The last part of the article is due to Olivia at the end of next week. I finished the light fixture for the dining room at The Yard. I guess I’ll have it couriered over next week.”

  “Have you gone down to the restaurant?”

  “No. I’m finished. There’s no need.”

  “Make up an excuse. What the hell, you’re all Honest Abe now?”

  Kara smiled at him. “Nana?”

  Grady smiled back. “Yup, Nana. I can’t stop. Kate thinks she’s taken over my body.”

  “She always did like you better.”

  “True.”

  Kara shoved him.

  “Deliver the light fixture yourself. Maybe he needs a little push. We’re men, not the smartest of the species, you know?”

  She nodded. “True, but I already tried pushing. He obviously knows what he’s doing.”

  “Kara, you can’t just let this go, can you?”

  “I guess we should join everyone else and mingle.” Kara grabbed her purse before her heart jumped out of her chest.

  Grady seemed to pick up on her change of subject. He was a great brother, she thought as he offered his arm and Kara held on to him. They made their way across the moist spring grass toward their parents who were currently in animated conversation with another couple. Kara and Grady held back, sipping their drinks.

  “We’re quite a pair, you and I. A little bit hard to love, maybe.”

  Kara smiled. “We probably can’t blame that on our parents for much longer. Time to grow up, eh?”

  “We should have run away that night. You screwed the whole thing up with that damn cat of yours.”

  Kara laughed and Grady returned the wave of some guy in seersucker.

  “I mean, just think, we could be seasoned circus performers by now,” Grady said through his senator’s son perm-a-grin.

  “I thought we already were circus performers.” She bumped his shoulder.

  Grady put his arm around her.

  “That we are, sis.” He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “You okay?”

  Kara let out a breath and snuggled into her brother’s shoulder. He was so happy, so in love, and she was becoming her genuine self. Long overdue, but standing there with him, she really had nothing to complain about.

  “You need a haircut.”

  Grady laughed.

  “Well played. I’ve taught you well. Dodge and evade.” He looked at her, all that big brother magic in his eyes. “Make sure you figure it out, okay? Don’t go back to raspberry again.”

  “Not a chance. Now go find a lemonade for that gorgeous woman walking toward us, before she wakes up or Mom gets ahold of her.”

  Grady laughed. “I love you.” He left her side and headed toward Kate who looked fantastic in a green sundress.

  Just as Kara was sure she’d stayed long enough to make her exit at any minute, her mother and father sauntered over in all their linen finery.

  “Kara dear, this is certainly an interesting choice.” Her mother touched her dress and somehow made it feel less luxurious than it did when she’d slipped into it earlier.

  “Thank you, Mother.” She kissed her on the cheek.

  “You look great, honey.” Her father squeezed her from the side.

  “I wasn’t aware you liked orange,” her mother continued, still surveying. “It’s actually not a bad color on you. I guess that’s more of a burnt orange. Patrick, what color would you say that is?”

  “I have no idea, my love. It’s a great dress, we are at a party, could we please stop inspecting for a few minutes?” her father said playfully, but with purpose. He kissed his wife and then smiled at Kara.

  Her mother raised her eyebrows, but softened at her father’s kiss and once the microscope lifted, Kara started thinking about her exit strategy. She did want to talk to her father quickly before she left, so while her mother was rambling with two other women, Kara pulled him aside.

  “Eloise starts school in August.” She held his arm and walked with him toward the back of the yard.

  “That’s great news.”

  “Yeah, at first Strickland School wasn’t going to let her in and then just last week they called apologizing and offered her a spot. Weird, huh?”

  “Well, maybe something opened up.”

  “Dad.” She stopped and turned to look at him.

  “Yes, darling daughter.”

  “It was you or it was Grady. He says no, so that leaves only one person who loves me enough to help my friend deal with morons.”

  “It was your mother.” He looked over at the children playing with Hula-Hoops.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, your mother called the school and, well, she’s your mother. When she was done with them they felt exactly the way they should have felt.”

  “About as small as ants at a picnic? Huh, those skills are helpful in certain situations.”

  “She loves you, honey, and she wanted to help.”

  Kara looked at her father sideways, as if there must be more.

  “Oh, all right, it didn’t hurt that Mrs. Crenshaw, the admissions director, was one of your mother’s sorority sisters. She never liked her, so she laid on the whole, ‘What would the sisters think? Is this how we make the world a better place?’ thing. Cootie caved once your mother said she was seriously thinking of contacting the chapter and that she would not be invited to our open house next year.”

  “Cootie? The woman’s name is Cootie.”

  Her father laughed. “It’s a nickname, I think. I hope.”

  “Hmm, well I’m grateful. And it’s nice to see Mother using her powers for good instead of evil.”

  “Kara, your mother is—”

  “Oh, Dad, like you said, this is a lovely party. Leave it. I’m thrilled she helped Jake and Cotton. Eloise deserves the very best. Like Nana used to say, ‘Let’s let sleeping dogs, lie.’”

  They both laughed and her father did just that. They started walking again and he moved on talking about his first few months of work, the trip he and her mother took to Greece last month, and his next speech. The senator liked to discuss his life, which was fine with Kara because at the moment, her life was a bit of a jumbled mess.

  “So, how are you?”

  Damn, Kara thought.

  “I’m good. Working and . . . just planted an herb garden.”

  “Really?” Her father waved to someone in the distance. “Logan help you with that?” he asked as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

  “No.”

  “Huh.” They started walking back because Kara’s mother was looking over at them. “You know, I’m sorry your life has been a bit of a mess.” Her father slowed down.

  Kara was shocked and a little relieved at his candor, especially among the spring social set.

  “We probably could have done some things dif
ferently.”

  Kara said nothing.

  “Feel free to disagree.” Her father’s brow furrowed, but Kara just laughed and kept walking.

  “I just think we’ve ruined your happy a couple of times with our . . . well, with my needs or the campaign’s needs,” he said. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Kara could feel her eyes filling so she glanced back toward where they’d come and quickly wiped a tear that managed to escape.

  “It hasn’t been that bad, Dad.”

  “Well, if you need anything . . .”

  “Dad, I’m fine. I’m working on a life for myself, so if you and Mom could sit tight, I’d like to have my own happy for a while.”

  Her father nodded and put his arm around her. She couldn’t look at him without breaking her no crying in public rule.

  “I think we can do that. You go be happy, honey,” he said and swallowed back what seemed like a lump in his throat.

  And then before either of them could say another word, her brother in shining armor approached.

  “My son!” Their mother walked over to Grady.

  “My mother!” he mocked. Kara laughed.

  “Run.” Grady leaned in, pretending to greet her again. “I’ll hold them off.”

  Kara laughed, kissed her father and mother good-bye, and did just that.

  She had packed up her things from Nana’s place before the party, so she drove home to her current reality and was working on a new lamp in her studio by sunset.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kara turned in the last of the feature articles. It was good work, she was proud of it, and then she resigned. Olivia had a good cry, but Kara decided she wasn’t cut out to be in the media. It was always sort of ironic that she ended up there in the first place. She’d learned a lot about herself over the past few months: most important was that she needed to be creative, not correct. She no longer wanted to pick other people apart; she wanted to be happy. Happy in her own skin and making something instead of tearing something down.

  She drove past The Yard for the third time that week, but this time she pulled in. She felt powerful about her solution and had decided to take Grady’s advice. The light fixture she’d made for the restaurant’s private dining room had been wrapped up and in her car all week. It was time to give it to Logan.