Destiny. Fate. The universe.Kate and her lola are the quirky kind of people who believe in that stuff. For a long time, I thought it was idiotic. But there’s something about their faith in the future that sends a flutter through my chest.
Hope. They have hope for things unseen. And as crazy as that sounds to some, over time I’ve realized that all we can do is hope. Plotting and planning gets us nowhere when things go wrong. A vague picture of desert sand and orange flames flashes across my mind, mixing with the colored lights on the Christmas tree. Planning can get us killed.
I shake off the memory and help Lola make her way around the kitchen counter where Benny can lead her to the couch. The family bickers at her for walking too much, an uncle mimics her slow pace, an aunt swats at him, and a few cousins giggle. I scan over the group, noting who’s here and who’s missing, reminding myself to call Uncle Jerry back and find time to fix Auntie Dawn’s faucet.
My eyes land on a set of dark-brown ones with hints of auburn. Eyes swirling like a fresh cup of coffee, sparkling with warmth under the Christmas lights. Eyes that dance when they laugh at her own jokes, twitch in the corners when they’re angry, and squint to hold back tears when they’re sad. Eyes I would die for.
Kate’s eyes stay pinned on me as she mouths,“Help me.”I shrug at her and take another drink. A silent plea with a pout is shot my way. I hold up my finger,just a minute,and take an extra-long and slow chug of my drink. I watch her groan out at my snail’s pace, a dribble of brandy leaving my mouth as I laugh.“Fine,”I mouth.
I finish my glass and make my way into the living room. Christmas charades has morphed into another game about a bowl or something. I take a seat on the floor near the couch. Lola is on the far end, winking at me. Aunt Edna is next to her, talking Nick’s ear off, who is seated right next to Kate. The proximity of his knee to hers sends a jolt up my spine. He’s practically in her lap.
Kate waves at the open spot on the floor next to her feet.
I pat the seat on the floor next to me.
She waves again.
I pat again.
Then we stare at each other in a standoff, her date completely oblivious to what’s happening a foot away from him. Kate caves, huffing as she scoots her feet across the carpet to where I’m sitting.
“Care to join me?” I rest my arms behind my head and lean against the wall.
Kate towers over me, her small frame swallowed by a colossal Christmas sweater. It’s hideous. It looks like she lost a fight with an elf in a tinsel factory. I wonder why she wore something so ugly when underneath that sweater is a figure so beautiful it could send a man to the moon. Is it possible Kate didn’t wantNick to gawk at her? Because I’m confident if she was wearing something else, ole Nicky Poo wouldn’t be so engrossed in his conversation with Edna.
Kate groans, plopping down on the carpet beside me. We watch everyone play games in silence. She taps her fingers against her thigh to the Christmas music, each nail a different shade of red, looking at everyone in the room but me.
“You’re off beat.” I chuckle.
She stops tapping then puffs her cheeks out, red splotches forming like they always do when she does that.
I lean over and whisper, “What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?” She leans in, a piece of her curly hair getting caught on my beard. “Oh, nothing. I don’t know. I just…” Taking a breath, she finally looks at me. “Are you mad?”
“About what?”
“This whole”—she waves a hand as if to present the living room onThe Price is Right—“dating situation.”
“Dating situation?” I muse.
“I just don’t want you upset that I didn’t tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, we watch the chatter across the room. Holiday cheer in all its glory. I used to hate this holiday—growing up in a broken home with separate holidays and all. The holidays at the Divata home are always a highlight for me. Kate’s family has been nothing but welcoming to me the last five years.
A part of me, much bigger than I will admit to anyone, hopes I never lose it.
“I didn’t want you to feel alone.” Her voice is a whisper. “We’ve been buddies for so long, and eventually, I’ll have someone, and I won’t be able to be justyourbuddy anymore.”
“Because you’ll have two buddies.” I nod in understanding.
“Not what I mean!” Shoving me in the shoulder, she giggles. It’s a sweet sound, and I hate myself for how I let it make me feel. All warm and fuzzy and ridiculous. “I just mean…” Nick turns around and waves at us. She pauses and waves back. I don’t. “I just mean—” She focuses back on me, but her face is sadder than when her dog Hilda died. “I won’t see you as much if I’m dating someone. You’ll have to…share me.”
Her words hit me like a blow in the stomach.Shareher. I try to not focus on the sentiment sounding like she’s a possession and focus on the reality that she won’t just be my curly-headed firecracker anymore. She could become someone else’s.
Everything around me goes silent as the reality of the situation starts to sink in. The moment slows as I watch a slow breath leave her lips. They start to draw me into a serene mental space when, out of nowhere, a deafening clang shatters the silence, reverberating up my spine and into my ears.
