Because I Said So

by Karin Kallmaker

  Kesa was the one reckless enough to put it into words first. Even now, Shannon wondered if she’d said it first, would it have scared her less?

  The leather-covered box felt as if it had a heartbeat of its own, taking hers over. Finally, she opened it and looked at the ring she had bought for Kesa four years ago. The simple gold band was inset with sapphire chips that matched Kesa’s eyes.

  The guilt she felt at ghosting Kesa had layers, and this was the heaviest. Swinging wildly back and forth between an uncharted, unforeseen future she didn’t know how to trust and the familiar shores of an entire life spent clinging to safety, she’d woken up that Monday morning paralyzed with fear. How could she be in love? Love at first sight was a fool’s dream, and it would be crushed.

  By lunchtime she was euphorically sure their feelings were forever and had rushed out to buy the ring to add to her apology for not saying “I love you” back. By dinner the heavy, insistent voice of her aunt had kept her from returning Kesa’s first call, though her finger had hovered over the phone icon repeatedly.

  By nightfall several text messages were unanswered. She couldn’t answer them at night, she told herself. It would seem like a booty call, that she’d waited so they could have phone sex or something. Kesa’s sister would be back from her school trip anyway. Kesa would soon realize that she couldn’t fit a relationship into her busy, responsibility-laden life and all this hope she felt would be wasted.

  Love was real.

  Love was madness. It wasn’t safe to feel this way.

  The messages and voice mails stacked up like a wall, leaving Shannon on her side with fear and embarrassment as her best friends.

  Kesa’s words had only been a moment of wild abandon, Shannon told herself again. Or so she had been able to think, until today. The woman whose workshop she’d seen this afternoon was not reckless. Careful and precise. Tenacious. A builder, step-by-step.

  Which made that impetuous declaration of love an anomaly and therefore not something to be trusted.

  That or Shannon was an expert at rationalizing away what she didn’t want to confront—her own fears. She’d hoped by leaving love untended it would die and she would be safe from the risk of the truth.

  It hadn’t worked.

  Did it ever pay off to bet against love?

  Idiot. She was absolutely, without doubt, the biggest chicken in the room. She’d chopped off an arm to make sure she never got a hangnail. Four years without the woman she’d fallen so hard for in her life, and now she looked back on lonely hours, lost conversations, a thousand kisses never shared. The ache she’d hidden in deep, dark places throbbed inside her bones and she snapped the ring box shut again.

  You chose to feel this way, she reminded herself, and you didn’t give Kesa a choice. Was it any wonder Kesa had pushed her away with such finality?

  Calling it impossibly insane hadn’t fixed anything. Her heart was still not her own. She was still crazy and even more so because somehow she had thought Kesa would forgive her and that somehow they would find a fresh start.

  She heard Paz’s footsteps heading toward the kitchen. She wrapped herself in her robe and followed the sound of rummaging.

  Mouth full of Cheerios, he asked, “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I’m having trouble sleeping is all. Say, did you tell Josie I was moving to Seattle?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t think it was a secret. That’s what scared her into wanting to elope. That and fighting with her sister.”

  “Does her sister know?”

  “Josie may have told her.” He popped another fistful of circular oaty goodness into his mouth. “Actually, I think I mentioned it in passing.”

  You stand there like a block of stone. Go ahead and leave.

  Shannon ignored his puzzled expression and took herself back to bed.

  1000. Maybe… 999. Maybe not… 998. Maybe…

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Josie was gone to school the next morning by the time Kesa was making her own breakfast and noticed that two dress sketches, front and back, were on the table, complete in pastel pencils. Had Josie even slept if she’d finished these already? There was nothing hurried about them.

  She’d caught the line of the dress, the complex bodice, and the suggestion of the branches and flowers against the rich, lustrous blue. She’d even added a general outline of a tall, curvaceous brunette with long curls of hair pulled over one shoulder.

  Meaning every word, she texted Josie, “Beautiful, perfect, you did great. Thank you!” She followed it up by sending her the money she’d promised. She didn’t add, “Please don’t run away and get married,” but she held her phone against her forehead for a moment and prayed.

  She had enough skill with a pen to add an artful rendition of her logo and a copyright mark alongside the sketch. At her workshop she took careful, well-lit photos of the sketches and sent them to Jennifer’s assistant. Life with Josie might be at its rockiest point ever, but Friday at work was looking good.

  I get a grip on one thing and everything else slips through my fingers.

  Unfortunately, the simple final embellishments and hemming for her latest suit-kini order left her brain free to think about Shannon. She tried to be philosophical. Nothing had really changed, had it? If you hadn’t met up with her again she would still be out of your life, right? She had to start counting the days all over again until it didn’t hurt, that’s all.

  Sure, that’s all.

  Lunch was a warm, delectable and highly comforting meat pie from the bakery. It helped settle the too many cups of coffee and anxious nerves she felt every time her phone chimed and she thought, “This is it, a photo of Josie and Paz in Vegas.”

  One more fitting for a suit-kini completed and cash in the bank, she checked her messages after she closed the door behind the departing client. Jennifer’s P.A. had written back.

  Kesa whooped as she read, “JL LOVES LOVES LOVES this. Scheduling details back to you in a few.”

  She had enough time to text Josie that her sketches had sold the deal, and then the promised follow-up to schedule Jennifer Lamont’s fittings arrived.

  She plunked down so hard onto her work chair that she reflexively rubbed her butt. “Travel plans upended. Is there any way at all she can do a prelim fitting on Monday? Final ten days later? We know this is a big ask.”

  Monday? She wanted to say it was impossible. One did not say that word to clients, though, and certainly not to this client.

  Her gaze fell on her existing store of the cheap polyester fabric she stocked up for experiments and first drafts. Lamont and her people were reasonable to work with and they understood that garments were built in multiple stages. She already knew Lamont’s measurements to a certainty. Using a fabric she didn’t care got ruined by the inevitable mistakes, she could have the component pieces ready if she worked all weekend. Stitching them together into a prototype garment Lamont could try on was possibly achievable by late Monday. There would be no embellishments, but she could make a few of the flowers to get them the way she envisioned and mark the prototype with the line she was going to follow. That part would be easier with Lamont in the dress.

  She sent the gist of her thoughts to the assistant and got back a promise for a five thirty p.m. fitting on Monday. Recognizing that Kesa was pulling off a minor miracle, Lamont agreed to come to Kesa, saving Kesa another hour.

  Small blessings—there would be no time to maunder over Shannon, she thought. She sent Josie another text, telling her not to expect her for most of the weekend and why.

  To her relief she finally got an answer back. “Got it. Congrats.”

  She would have to be content with that. Whatever Josie and Paz decided to do, it was out of her hands.

  The gentle scent from the mimosa tree seemed to wrap around her as she steadied herself against her worktable. Was this seeping sense of loss, like a tide going out, what it felt like to let go?

  Glad she had already eaten enough to get her through
the rest of the day and long through the evening, she unfurled the roll of pattern paper across her drafting table, got out her master ruler and sharp 4H pencils, and settled down to work.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When Paz didn’t come home Friday night and didn’t send a text letting her know his whereabouts, Shannon fully expected to hear about a wedding in Vegas. She’d messed up big time by eavesdropping and then telling Kesa about it.

  To her relief, he breezed in Saturday afternoon as she was unsuccessfully trying to focus on the case reading she’d brought home.

  “I spent the night at Josie’s. I probably will tonight too.” He didn’t seem upset, only distracted as he disappeared into his room. “I’m looking all over for one of my textbooks. I owe it back to Lucio.”

  “Look in the laundry room,” Shannon called. “There’s a stack of something on the dryer. It’s been there since Wednesday.”

  “Really?” There was a slight pause, then, “There it is! And the other one too. And my notes from Comp Stat.”

  “That’s right, my two X chromosomes combine to make a tracking device,” she said, not loud enough for him to hear.

  He reappeared, books under one arm and phone in the other. His mouth was literally hanging open.

  “What’s up?”

  He peered more closely at his phone. “I got the internship! Letter will be in the mail.”

  Shannon bounded to her feet with a shout of victory. “You did it!”

  They met in the middle of the room for a rib-cracking hug.

  “I don’t believe it! I have to tell Josie.”

  He spun away in a vortex of happiness, his voice several tones higher than usual as he delivered the great news. Josie’s excited voice was audible even from a distance.

  “Can I take you guys out to dinner?” she called after him. “To celebrate?”

  He gave her a thumbs-up and she tried very hard not to listen in on his side of a rapidly shmoopy-goopy conversation full of “No, you are,” and “I’ll hang up if you’ll hang up.”

  Her legs felt a little wobbly and she settled into the sofa again to sort out the flood of emotions. A corporate internship meant a probable sponsorship to do his master’s degree in return for a commitment to work for them after graduation. The next four or five years of his life could be safely settled, and he’d be doing something he really enjoyed. Between the money for the summer and part-time jobs when school resumed, the kids might be able to come up with enough bank to make rent as a couple.

  Another life-changing moment, she thought. That horrible night, in the wrong place at the wrong time, had nearly destroyed this future, but now the scales had balanced. It felt like a little bit of justice.

  She was startled by Paz’s return. He was still bouncing up and down on his toes. “Josie’s at campus, but she can meet us at the Korean barbecue off Olympic in about an hour.”

  “Sounds great. You drive and I’ll catch a bus back.”

  Today we’ll celebrate, she told herself as he drove them through the clogged weekend streets. It was a bright, hot day that promised summer would be there any minute, and he turned on the air conditioning as the sun warmed his little hatchback. As they bounced around ideas about how the internship might proceed, she decided her best plan for Paz and Josie going forward would be to shut up and listen to them talk about the future. She wasn’t sure there had ever been another option—she’d just wanted to think so.

  Josie was waiting for them in the parking lot. She flung her arms around Paz, exclaiming, “I’m so proud of you!”

  He lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. “It changes everything.”

  She let them smooch in private while she went inside to ask for a table. She felt hungry for the first time all day. The heavy, delicious scents of orange and pepper and roasted garlic sent her stomach into one long growl. When the two of them joined her at the table, they quickly agreed on a starter of gyeran mari while they decided on their entrees.

  “So we’re here to celebrate, but I also truly want to apologize for eavesdropping. I’m ashamed of myself, and as I told Paz, I really did not know what to do. I hope you’ll accept my apology, both of you.” There, that wasn’t so hard, she thought. You can say something to someone instead of thinking it and wondering why nothing gets better.

  Josie took a philosophical tone. “It’s not as if we are super serious. I mean we were kind of serious but not super serious. I talked about some stuff with my sister and maybe that helped.”

  “Nevertheless, I won’t make a habit of it.”

  “Thank you.” Paz nodded along with Josie and Shannon relaxed. All might not be forgotten, but it was mostly forgiven. “Have whatever you want,” Shannon told Josie. “Enough for some leftovers later.”

  “That’s so awesome. Kesa is working at her shop all weekend—a really huge deal commission that’s a big rush. So I’m on my own.”

  Paz bestowed a look of pure adoration on Josie. “Your sketches turned out? That’s great!”

  “They did, and I already got the paycheck. Here.” Josie fished out her phone and turned it toward Paz next to her. “I took pictures of them, see?”

  Paz duly admired them, then she tipped the display toward Shannon.

  The tall figure and blue dress were beautifully rendered. Shannon hadn’t realized how talented Josie was. And the dress itself was stylish and fun—a piece of walking art. “Is this for that actress whose name I swear I’ve completely forgotten?”

  “That’s the one.” Josie tucked the phone away. “Whose name I don’t know, nope.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paz deadpanned.

  “Kesa makes that kind of dress? No wonder she’s a successful couturière.”

  “You know, I think she’s just getting started.” Josie took a last look at the phone. “I’m proud of her.”

  Something Kesa might like to hear, Shannon thought, but give it time.

  The omelet roulade was delivered and they all tucked in. Shannon’s favorite thing was dipping the edge of a slice in a little bit of sweet chili sauce. Bell peppers, carrots, and eggs were meant to be together, she thought. Her stomach definitely agreed and the growling went away. She was equally pleased with her heaping bibimbap that arrived shortly thereafter. The bowl of savory seasoned rice, heaped with veggies, chicken, and egg, was usually more than she could finish, but today she scraped the bottom. Josie and Paz shared halfsies of their two choices, a fragrant seafood pancake and sizzling, barbecue bulgogi.

  The bus journey was convoluted on a weekend, but she reached home without incident. She decided to take her work outside to enjoy the late afternoon sun before the warmth left the backyard.

  All the while the knowledge that Kesa was at her workshop played in the back of her mind, and an imp of distraction constructed any number of stupid excuses to drop by. Maybe sit in the parking lot for a while. As if that wouldn’t be a hundred percent childish move. Stalker, much? Not to mention there was no proof Kesa wanted to hear anything she had to say. Certainly not now, with a lot riding on a big commission.

  When the loss of sunlight drove her back inside, she indulged in a very loud viewing of Wonder Woman and then returned to the reading she’d brought home. She’d reached the bottom of the stack of unclassified printouts and realized she’d finally made her way into genuine backlog from the government shutdown at the beginning of the year. A quick glance indicated it was probably inconsequential chatter that had not been anyone’s priority when they’d returned from furlough.

  She was glad she took the time to read it, because it was a fairly amusing summary of a fugitive trying to get himself captured, quite literally, because he thought custody was safer than what would happen if his angry ex-confederates in bank robbery found him first. The analyst who’d written it up had done so with a dry, ironic flair that such summaries rarely had. Standing in banks hoping to be questioned, running out on his tab at cop bars, even walking back and forth in front of ATM
s. Finally, he’d joked at an airport about having a bomb and was now happily behind bars.

  It might have been the second glass of wine that made falling asleep so easy for once. But when she snapped awake at five a.m., heart pounding, she knew instantly why.

  That summary—a fugitive who wanted to get caught.

  She made coffee and sat down to think while the sun rose.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Parking was simple on a Sunday, and Shannon found a space near the marshals’ office. There was no line for the security screening, but the elevator was being worked on. The journey up the stairs made her glad she’d worn sneakers instead of her usual business heels.

  From chatter on the second-floor landing she gathered there had been an incident at the courthouse late Friday, easily contained. The third and fourth floors seemed deserted, but they were mostly occupied by administrative workers who kept the usual M-F 9-5 schedule.

  The fifth floor was quieter than on a weekday, but there were deputies at desks and a group gathered in the small conference room where street maps were up on the television display.

  Tau, the usual keymaster, wasn’t at work on a Sunday, and she hunted down the person listed for weekend coverage. Once her desk and computer were unlocked she opened up her summary of the known movements of Seychelles, a.k.a. “Henry Lymon” and several other aliases, along with the raw intel behind each sighting.

  Hanging around a police station. Walking through security in a courthouse. Caught in Toronto by CCTV cameras that he had to know were there.

  People did not do anything for no reason at all.

  Seychelles had been a playboy miscreant brother of an Eastern European head of state, then turned asset for the CIA. What if he wanted back into the CIA’s good graces? Even more worrisome, what if he wasn’t rogue at all and was trying to signal that he needed discreet contact? Had she missed anything that would have claimed him as an active asset?