The Strings That Hold Us Together

by Kendra Mase

  “You didn’t have to buy me any.”

  “Well, this way, in case you conveniently forget to tell anyone next year, you’ll at least have some of this.”

  Squinting at him, Katherine glanced down at the canister. Birthday Tea. Black tea infused with vanilla, rosehip, berries, and marigold. “Thank you.”

  Smiling at it, she set it next to the other, tucked between the umbrella Emilie insisted on taking before she left and emergency sewing supplies she had zipped up in an embroidered pouch.

  “Do you always carry that bag?”

  “Not always, but I didn’t know what we were doing today,” Katherine explained. Plus, it was perfect for carrying her latest purchase. “Was that the truth? Is it my turn now?”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  “Only fair.”

  “Go on.”

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  She dipped her chin. “What did you want to do with your photography? Or going to do?”

  He gave her a look as she fixed her question, interested as his hand went back to his head. It was like a twitch. The question made Jack, of all people, uncomfortable.

  About to take it back, Jack answered.

  “You know those photos in magazines? A lot of them are bought off contract photographers. They basically can go and live anywhere as long as they are taking great photos to send back. For the longest time, that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to travel over the world and see everything, I would take photos of everything even if it meant climbing mountains and waiting for that single moment for the sun to peak.” Peeking at Kit, his smile curved only the one side of his mouth, soft before looking forward again.

  Somehow, as she listened to him, Katherine could almost forget that Jack did anything else but the thing she just found out he loved.

  “You should still.”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “Maybe in another life.”

  Looking at him with disbelief, he didn’t look, but she knew he could feel it burning into his cheek. There was a single freckle right there on his jawline.

  “It’s my turn now. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  His lips twitched as if he knew why she kept choosing that one. “Strangest place you’ve ever had sex.”

  She knew he was asking to catch her off guard, his entire demeanor now looming over her. Katherine, however, held his gaze, unwilling for him to see the sudden flush as she thought of her answer. She’d already thought of them asking eventually, like someone at the bar demanding a driver’s license where she didn’t have the correct age listed.

  She’d be labeled a phony in a world uniquely ideal, even if she’d started to look the part ever since the other day, rummaging through Emilie’s old clothes and finding more than enough vintage skirts and dresses for any occasion—for once the pack-rat tendencies coming through for Kit.

  The hem swung back and forth against her calves as if in subtle confidence. “My head.”

  Pouting his bottom lip, he only nodded. “Must be a real mind fuck in there.”

  Katherine breathed a relatively loud laugh. “You have no idea.”

  For one thing, she was almost certain that the last time anything interesting happened there, he had the leading role. She turned away, looking forward as they started to walk again back up onto the main road. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.”

  Katherine’s lips parted and closed as she tried to think.

  “Didn’t have one ready, huh?”

  “I’ll think of one.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it on a tab. For now, truth.”

  They paused before an entrance she almost thought was to the metro for a moment, a small group climbing back up the stairs.

  “Ever seen a dead body?”

  Chapter Ten

  “What is this place?”

  “The Ashton catacombs.”

  “Like the ones in Paris?”

  Jack shook his head. “Much less impressive. No, Ashton’s catacombs are more metaphorical due to the positive note of the city never being closely involved with any death causing wars or surviving the debilitating plague.”

  “So, what is this place?” Katherine asked.

  “Ashton’s roots.” Jack paused as they came up to a name engraved into the side of the wall. Gretchen Lou. “Ashton was created on the river in the very beginning as a creative commune. Now, to remember them, their names are down here. It is a crypt though too. If you do something good for the city, you can still request a spot down here, so you’ll always be a part of Ashton.”

  “That’s kind of beautiful.”

  Jack gave a thoughtful nod as they continued to walk through the narrow tunnel. It was even colder than the breeze outside. Katherine curled her arms around herself, pausing when she caught a name that stood out to her. Some were marked with different symbols, whether it be from the original commune, art implements pressed into metal, or simple stars etched. Katherine gently touched one. Her finger trailed over another design, a thin, almost shimmering red line that twisted and turned before connecting to another section, another name.

  “What is this line?”

  Jack paused, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Have you ever heard of the strings of fate? There’s a legend that says that those connected by the red string are destined to meet.”

  “Like soul mates,” Katherine whispered, looking at the two names next to each other.

  Jack nodded.

  Only a few others were also walking over the compacted dirt floor, either for a shortcut or to read each line of the people who made Ashton what it was.

  “Why did the commune stop?”

  Jack shrugged. “Progress, like all things I imagine. There are still marks where they impacted, though, and people still carry on the tradition of Ashton being a creative place for dreamers. There is a whole road, maybe we’ll pass later if you’d like.”

  Katherine glanced up at him in the shadowy darkness only broken through by recessed lights. “I’d like that.”

  For a long moment, Jack looked down at her, clearing his throat. “Oh, look here. See? Leeson Modiste.”

  Squinting, Katherine knew the name sounded familiar.

  “The street you live on. Modiste.” Jack filled in, noting her trying to work it out in her head. Was that because she didn’t know her own address yet? She hadn’t needed to when she never left. Now though?

  Katherine nodded twice. Modiste. A fitting name for a lingerie shop.

  “When the commune disbanded, the city was basically up for grabs. That’s why there are so many streets with people’s names. Most of them you’ll catch down here.”

  Taking deep breaths, Katherine looked up through the silence while the city streamed loud and screaming above them.

  “Truth or dare?”

  Jack turned, but fast enough.

  “Truth,” Katherine answered. “Thank you for inviting me out today.”

  A soft look spread over his face. “The day isn’t over yet, Kitten.”

  Katherine wasn’t surprised that the catacombs opened beside a bookstore where all the other stories were kept.

  They milled in the aisles, Katherine picking out favorites while Jack pointed to the few he actually managed to read for school. There was a surprisingly decent assortment of them, including Catcher in the Rye and Jane Austen.

  “Don’t judge my tender heart.”

  Katherine wouldn’t dream of it.

  Next door in the park, each of them got a crepe from the vendor, much better than any hot dog stand. Katherine got a Nutella one while Jack got a crepe with savory cheese inside. They traded a few bites before digging in, setting up camp on a formation of rocks where others were also picnicking, wrapped in warm sweatshirts and baseball caps.

  “You have a little chocolate there.” With his thumb, Jack touched her face. Sweeping up the blob of Nutella, he neatly deposited it into his own mouth. He sucked his thumb
before it came away from his lips with a pop. “You’re right, the sweet ones are good.”

  Katherine’s mouth turned dry. She vigorously nodded. She had never been so jealous of a thumb. Pointers when she was on the other end, and fourth ring figure when there was a ring there for more than just decoration—but never a thumb.

  Looking elsewhere, Katherine watched children toss a frisbee back and forth, throwing pebbles at it when it got caught in the tree. On the other side of them, a few people laughed as one of them got up from their blanket where a woman was leisurely sitting back up from what looked to be a nap.

  “What’s going on over there?”

  Jack turned to follow her gaze. “An old joke. It’s a statue people visit. They say it gives luck.”

  Leaning around the corner, Katherine watched as the guy walked up the bronze statue and immediately cup the figure right between stiff thighs. Her eyes widened, more so when she saw after he pulled away that the spot had been rubbed shiny after so many others doing the same.

  “Isn’t there something like that in France?”

  “Aren’t you a Francophile?” Jack teased.

  “I always wanted to go. When I was little, I used to check out books from the library.” Katherine explained. For some reason, France was always France, some magical place where all the fairy tales were set.

  “And read up on the most frequently rubbed statues?” Jack shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? Unlike the statue of Victor Noir—don’t be so surprised, I know what you are talking about—here you feel this guy up because it’s said that he had the biggest balls in all of Ashton. Stealing wives, leading empires that turned the west side into a financial dream.”

  “Did he really?”

  Jack shrugged. Maybe.

  Pushing up from the boulder they sat on, Katherine made her way over to the statue. She could use a little luck. If she was ever going to get the website passed Emilie with a name and everything so the shop could continue to thrive, she was going to need a lot of it. If that came from her rubbing her hand against a dead man’s statute, well, so be it.

  Pausing in front of the guy, the statue was a lot larger than she thought it was from where she was sitting. Still, she slapped her hand right against the man’s memorialized junk.

  “Look here!” Lifting his phone, Jack grinned widely as he snapped a photo. “Oh yeah, that’ll be making the album.”

  Katherine laughed, still holding her hand against the statue’s groin.

  He twisted the screen for her, even though she was too far away to see. “And that excitement.”

  “Be quiet.”

  “I was talking about the Ro Bro here,” Jack said. “Who wouldn’t be over the moon to have your hands on them?”

  Slowly, Katherine’s laughter dwindled as she walked away from the statue. She sniffed, leaning into Jack’s side. “So, what’s next? Skydiving? A bus tour?”

  “We have reached the end of the preliminaries, unfortunately. Now it’s time for the main event.”

  “I passed?”

  Jack stared at her for a long moment before rolling his eyes. His arm wrapped around her shoulders as they moved back to the park’s entrance. “With flying colors.”

  On their way back to pick up Jack’s camera and equipment, they first walked through the street Jack spoke of earlier in the crypts. The moment they came close to it, the area seemed to pulse with a sort of imaginative energy that made Katherine take a deep breath. For a long street, the ground and buildings on either side were coated in paint, chalk, and anything in between.

  They walked over words of encouragement and faces of important people depicted with vivid velocity.

  Turning around, Katherine stared at Jack. It didn’t even feel like they were in the same city anymore. It was more of a dream she walked into, filled with light and color and people adding to it wherever there were empty spaces. “This is amazing. Ashton is…”

  She couldn’t find the words, not because she couldn’t think of the right one this time, but because there were too many.

  “Ashton likes you too,” Jack said, extending a hand with a light purple piece of chalk. “Want to add your own mark?”

  In front of them, on the brick wall, a little girl ran away, back into her mother’s arms as Katherine and Jack approached.

  At the very top in puffed letters, I Dream…

  Taking the piece of chalk from Jack, he picked up a blue from the ground and stood next to her, already slicing color onto the building.

  I Dream…

  Katherine wrote down the first thing that came to mind.

  Jack nodded at what she wrote. “Seems reasonable.”

  I dream to find home.

  “Come on. Let’s go or else we are really going to be late.” Taking her chalk from her hand, he dropped both pieces into the wicker bin as he walked them away toward the rainbow road leading them back to civilization.

  Peeking over his shoulder, Katherine caught what Jack wrote.

  I dream to find what I need to.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jack never saw as much of the city as he did today. He set out with a minor task when he showed up at Emilie’s. Show Kit the city. Now, he couldn’t stop smiling all the way back to the castle. He dropped Kit off to get changed, though he thought she looked fine and then headed back to the townhouse to do so himself. No one was home, the space oddly quiet as he pulled on his average wedding shoot uniform of a button-down and dress pants.

  He smiled at her as she climbed back into the Jeep and beamed right back through a coat of reapplied lipstick that matched the color of tiny flower pins in her hair, swept back on the one side.

  “I was worried you were going to forget about me,” said Kit.

  “Pshaw.”

  “Pshaw,” Kit sounded back.

  She was ridiculous. “Never. I did promise a grand finale, and I followed through. Are you ready to head to your first Ashton wedding?”

  “First wedding.”

  “Really?”

  She bit her bottom lip as she made herself comfortable. “Truth.”

  “Damn, then we really need to make it on time though I can’t promise that it’ll be anything special.” He grinned wider and he noted the tinge of red that spread from her cheeks. “You clean up nice.”

  “I should say the same to you. You look good, all corporate in a suit.” Katherine looked down at herself, swinging the light pink tulle side to side. “Emilie has quite the collection.”

  “Of suits?”

  “Frilly dresses. Though you can certainly stop over and try a few on.”

  He shook his head. Her wit somehow continued to surprise him. “Wouldn’t want you to be overcome with how good I’d look in that number you have on.”

  She only kept smiling, taking a deep breath.

  “You good?”

  “Wedding shoot and then Rosin?” she confirmed.

  “Yep. With little time to spare. What, are you tired already?”

  He could tell from the set of her eyes, forcing them to stay open behind her glasses that she was, still, she shook her head, and for once the silence didn’t bother Jack. They made their way to the hotel, sprinting by the time they got to the elevator to take them to the top floor. They were really cutting it close.

  Guests were shoved into the enclosed space with the two of them. Jack squatted down, letting himself droop with his camera equipment about his neck.

  Like a piece of machinery, he knew where every piece was. Each fit into his hand with ease. Camera and lens, an extra battery was shoved in his back pocket.

  Glancing up, Kit watched him.

  “Do I see that you’re impressed, Kit?” Jack asked, coming back up to stand again. He lifted the camera and kicked the button toward her face.

  She blinked a few times along with the others in the elevator before the doors opened, looking around for the source of the flash. Then her gaze was caught on the view.

  The sunset petering downward a
gainst the tall buildings. Oranges and pinks streaked through the aisle where the groom already stood, waiting.

  Stepping out, Jack guided her to the side. “If you can, find a chair near the back. The ceremony, from what I was told, isn’t going to be too long. I have to go and get a few snaps of the bride before she walks. All right?”

  Still struck by the view, Kit nodded.

  “Good. See you in a bit.”

  Turning around the curve into the side rooms, it wasn’t hard for Jack to find where the bridal party was. Popular music played as girls slipped into dresses at the last minute. They threw curls over their shoulders. Jack quickly angled, finding light as he shot the photos of everyone, some more candid than others, as he came to expect at most weddings when people noticed that he was there, when really, he should’ve been invisible.

  Behind him, the bride was just stepping into her own white monstrosity. She shed her silken robe as she stepped into the dress layered in sequins and tulle.

  “Suck it in.” What looked like her mother encouraged.

  “I am.”

  “Well, do it some more, the zipper is—”

  The bridesmaid on the other side froze in utmost horror. Lips parted, she stared at the piece of plastic-covered metal now caught between her fingertips, and no sucking in would ever fix that. “Oh my god.”

  The mother of the bride had similar sentiments, walking away altogether out the door.

  “What? What just happened?”

  From behind him, someone jostled his shoulder. Doing a double take, it was Kit that passed him, moving toward the stunned bridesmaid before anyone could utter another word. She waved a hand for the zipper holder to take a step back, visible in the mirror’s hazy reflection.

  “Hi,” Kit breathed, taking in the broken situation. “Don’t panic.”

  “And who the hell are you?”

  Jack almost couldn’t help himself as his camera dropped, coming into contact with his sternum. He took a step forward, but it didn’t look like he needed to.

  Kit rounded the front of the bell-shaped dress, they were eye to eye.