“That works for me,” I easily replied. We divided up the soup and made tea before sitting down to eat together.
When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “I hate being sick.”
“Most people do,” I agreed, leaning back to look at her.
She shifted again, fingers worrying the edge of her sleeve. “Last night, when we talked about you discussing the music shop with Lydia… I reacted badly.”
“You reacted honestly.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t about Lydia. Not really.”
I waited patiently to hear what Kitty would say next.
“It’s just… it happens a lot,” she said, stirring what was left of her soup. Her voice wavered, then steadied “Being the last one to know what’s going on, the one who finds out after the decision’s already been made. I know no one means to do it, but knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less.”
This wasn’t just about not letting her know I had talked to her sister about social media for the music shop, I realized. This was an accumulation of hurt that had happened over time with her family. “I’m sorry. Going forward, I will make sure to do mybest to keep you aware of what’s happening. I don’t want you to ever feel excluded and if I happen to do something that hurts you, please call me out on it.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” Kitty’s voice wobbled as she blinked rapidly.
I got up, moved my chair next to hers, sat down again and wrapped my arms around her, letting her lean on me.
“I’m going to make you sick,” she warned with a sniff.
“That’s okay. I’m here for the long term germ sharing,” I told her.
She had a hoarse laugh.
I reached for the honey and poured a small spoonful into a mug of tea, sliding it across the table toward her. “You should drink this. I know I heard somewhere that honey is good for the throat.”
She smiled faintly and cradled the mug in one hand, still leaning against me.
I cleared my throat. “When I heard that you talked to Dave, I defended you. I believed that you wouldn’t make a deal with him behind my back. I told Eva that you would call me and tell me about what happened. I knew you were busy, so I waited.”
“Then I didn’t call,” Kitty murmured.
“You have a lot on your mind with the Winter Carnival events. When I didn’t hear back from you, I thought I would just come and talk to you about it. Maybe I used the wrong words to explain that I was disappointed that you didn’t tell me right away. Yet, maybe that was too much to expect,” I mused.
“I should have told you right away. I just got busy and I thought since I told him that I wasn’t getting involved, it wasn’t a big deal. I was wrong. I should have known that Dave had probably tried to manipulate you through people close to you in the past,” Kitty replied.
“We both need to be more open with each other. I know we’re new in this relationship, but I think it will be better if we just tell each other what’s happening right away so neither of us gets upset,” I suggested.
“I agree,” Kitty said. Her gaze dropped to the mug again. “I don’t need to be the center of attention all the time. I just don’t want to feel invisible.”
“I don’t want that either,” I said.
She was quiet for a moment, absorbing that, then exhaled slowly. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I just needed you to understand why it hurt.”
“I do now.”
That seemed to matter more to her than an apology would have. Her shoulders eased, and she gave me a smile.
“There was something else about the social media,” I said, easing back into the chair so I could see her reaction better.
Her eyes flickered with interest. “Oh?”
“I talked to Lydia because she was there,” I continued. “Because she had a million ideas and no filter, and because I needed to make a decision quickly. That was on me.” I paused. “But I should have talked to you too.”
Kitty didn’t interrupt, which I took as permission to keep going.
