It isn’t until I glance up at the clock on the wall opposite my desk that I realize I’m late for lunch with Liv. “Shit,” I mutter to myself as I quickly hit save on the draft I’m working on and rush out of my office building.
I practically ran down the street to the restaurant where we were supposed to meet 10 minutes ago. I know she’ll understand, but I still hate being late to our lunches.
Olivia and I have been friends since we were kids, and I was over-the-moon excited when she moved to Columbia with me. Her office, where she works as an interior designer, is a couple of blocks from mine. Even though we live together, we meet for lunch whenever we can.
I remind myself to slow down as I approach the restaurant. Walking in, I immediately spot Liv at a table and see she’s already ordered drinks for us—her long, blonde hair glistens in the sun shining through the window. I used to wish my light brown hair looked more like hers. But I’ve learned to love my uniqueness.
Liv is wearing a funky, burnt orange, boho-style shirt with long sleeves shaped like bells. Her outfit starkly contrasts with my simple black A-line dress and gray suit jacket. I laugh at myself as I think about how perfectly our respective outfits match our personalities.
“Liv,” I say, a little out of breath.
“You went into hyperfocus mode again, didn’t you, Katherine?” Her vivid blue eyes gleam with laughter I know she’s trying tohold back. Ugh, I know I’m in trouble when she uses my full first name.
“I’m so sorry! I’ve been working on this motion all morning, and I was just in the groove and lost track of time.” The words come out too fast as I sit down across from her.
“No biggie. I get it.” She shrugs, eyes still gleaming. “But that’s why I ordered you unsweetened tea, ya bitch!” A grin spreads across her face as she gestures at the drink on the table in front of me. I groan internally. I hate unsweetened anything.
“I deserve that. I would say it won’t happen again, but you and I both know that would be a lie.” I give her a contrite expression and stare at the offending unsweetened tea.
“So,” I begin slowly, “how did dinner go last night? You got home late.” I take a sip of my tea and grimace. Placing the glass back on the table, I search for a packet of sugar and sigh, resigned, when I don’t find any. I settle for putting my hands in my lap.
Liv blows out a breath. “Fuck, dinner was rough. I swear, Talia’s dad hates me. Or maybe notme, but the concept of me. I’m the first girlfriend she’s brought home, and I think her dad was… I don’t know… shocked? That I’m a woman.” Liv audibly breathes and spins her glass on the table. “I know she talked to her family beforehand, but I think her dad seeing me made everything more real to him. I don’t think he’s handling the fact that hisbaby girlis gay very well.”
“Yikes. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well, we both knew going into this that there would be challenges.” She sips on her drink, “I really like her. I want this to work, but sometimes I worry about our families accepting us. Because… fuck everyone else that judges us for who we are. But not having our families on our side? I think that would crush us both.”
The server takes this moment to ask us if we know what we want to order. We’ve been here more times than I can count, so Idon’t have to look at the menu. Once we place our orders, the server leaves us to our conversation.
“Do you think your parents wouldn’t accept Talia?”
She shakes her head, her hair swaying with the movement. “No. They’ve known for a while who I like. It’s really about her family accepting her, and then accepting me. She’s kept that side hidden from her family for a long time, even though she’s dated other women.”
“I guess the bright side is that she obviously cares about you since she’s ready to share this part of herself with her family. If you have strong feelings for her, just give them time to accept herandyou.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She spins her glass on the table again. “You know, Sam called me yesterday afternoon.” Liv’s voice is tentative. The last thing I want to do is talk about Sam. But she continues before I can stop her. “Do you think you’ll ever let him back in?”
Frowning at her words, I fiddle with my hands under the table, nervous and a little upset with the turn of conversation. “Liv, please.”
Samuel Harris is my brother Ethan’s best friend. We all grew up together. Ethan and Sam are the same age, two years older than me. When we were kids, Ethan, Sam, Liv, and I were inseparable. We would frequently come up with wild schemes. When we weren’t scheming, we were out riding our bikes through the neighborhood.
“Come on, Kat. It’s been years,” she scolds me, making me feel like a berated child.
“Yeah,” I lean back in my chair, “and I still don’t know how to have a relationship with him when I still—I don’t know how—I don’t want to talk about this.” I glare at the glass of unsweetened tea again, avoiding Liv’s attention.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“I know.” It comes out softer than before. I know she means well. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.
I’m saved from talking about Sam when our food comes, matching grilled chicken, spinach, and strawberry salads with balsamic vinaigrette dressing. We quickly eat our food, partly because I was late for lunch and partly because she has a client meeting to get to, and I have a document I need to finish writing.
***
I'm back at the office and deep into the draft again when my phone starts ringing, interrupting the music playing through my earbuds.
Looking around my desk, I realize that, distracted, I left my phone in my purse after lunch. Sam… I shove the thought into the recesses of my mind, just as I open the drawer in my desk and pull out my phone.
Glancing at my phone’s screen, I see that Dad is calling. He doesn’t usually call during working hours. He’s an attorney, too, and understands the grind.
