She was quiet, coughing a couple of times. My panic raced harder. “Birdy, do you have a cough?”
“No, it’s just a throat tickle.”
I broke down. It was like all my worst fears were coming true. “Kitty, I’m going to drive to see you, okay? I’ll stay in a tent in your yard if I have to, but I . . . I need you.”
“In West Virginia? Guy, you can’t. I’m taking a risk traveling as far as I am. You can’t cross the whole damn country.”
I couldn’t even get words out. The days of loneliness, fear, and handwashing had gotten to me.
“Why don’t we make a plan to FaceTime whenever we can? Then we can see each other.” She coughed again.
“Kitty, are you sick?”
“Guy, seriously. Hang on.”
She hung up, then I got a FaceTime request. I answered right away, wiping my face with the bottom of my shirt. Kitty’s face filled my screen. She was wearing sweats, her hair in a messy pile on her head. She lifted her phone so I could see her whole body.
“Hi. See? I’m alive and well. All my parts. Breathing. I’m fine. I’m worried about you now.”
I had to laugh. “I guess I got a little irrational.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. Shit’s weird out there. How have you been keeping yourself busy? Make any crumbly meat pies?”
Talking to her made me realize just how stark the loneliness had been. It reminded me to call Frank, too. I needed people in my life. I almost always had someone around me, whether it was a teammate or yeah, a hookup. All the stress melted away as we got caught up. Violet passed through her background and said hi at one point.
“Is Violet why you’re not freaking out right now?”
“Yeah. We have each other,” Kitty said. “It’s probably hard for you being alone.”
We talked until my phone was hot in my hand and warning me of its imminent death.
“When’s Mark coming for you?”
“Two days. Wanna talk again tomorrow?”
And that’s how we passed those early days of the pandemic. Heather let the camera roll when they did Kitty’s at-home graduation ceremony. Kitty practiced her SNL audition tape on me. We learned stupid TikTok dances together and did pushup challenges. I won. She didn’t even try. We synched movies together. The vibe was something like we were in high school and college before we officially got together: really good, really affectionate friends. I think we were both afraid to venture into something more because the problem between us still wasn’t resolved. We still couldn’t physically be together.
In late July, it all came to an end. The NHL figured out a way to “bubble” teams together, so I had to go back to practice. And Kitty was off to New York, having landed that SNL spot. Even though most recording was remote, she still needed to be closeto the studio. I was so fucking proud of her. And in the back of my mind, I felt a little glad she’d said no to my proposal. She made it, just like she knew she could. By August, we were back to occasional stray texts, memes, and jokes. We were back to our distance keeping us apart.
Chapter 30
Guy
The day I’d long dreaded finally came. It was over three years after we broke up.
Kitty was thriving. She was acting and writing for SNL. I was genuinely so proud of my Kitty. We were both doing the things we’d wanted to do our whole lives. At least we’d accomplished the objective for us breaking up.
That’s who she still was to me. My Kitty.
I had her few seconds on the SNL intro memorized. She looked over her shoulder, flicking her long, dark hair with a silly look on her face, then laughing and showing her true smile. It was a smile I knew well. It was the one she gave when she was truly happy and comfortable. But the best part was that she wore the bird necklace I’d sent her all those years before in the shot. I wondered if she meant it as a sign to me.
That first summer after she was cast, she went on a standup tour called Wannabe Pop Star. She dressed like a pop star, in a sparkly bodysuit with tall glittering boots, showing off thoseincredible legs of hers.
I bought a front-row seat for every single show as my weird way of showing support, but I never got up the nerve to go. Part of me said I’d just distract her. Another part of me was just plain scared. What if she didn’t still love me the way I loved her? I didn’t think my heart could survive the rejection.
Still, I kept my options open. Would she take me back if I could play for New York or New Jersey? I had my agent look into it, to start putting feelers out. I wouldn’t be able to move out of my entry-level contract until I was twenty-seven. These were what-ifs for years in the future.
Mostly, I was really dedicated to not distracting her. I had a burner social media account to watch her standup posts. I didn’t want her to see my face in her followers, so @funnyfan96 I was. I left nice comments about how funny she was. If someone was mean to her, I turned into a bulldog defending her viciously.
