When I look up from my plate, Kara is still looking at me, only now, there’s something sad clouding her eyes. I know that look. It’s the same look Ellie gave me this morning when she turned me down. It’s pity, and I can’t stand it. My heart slouches into my stomach. Like mother, like goddamn daughter.
“I, uh. I have to run to the bathroom.” I push back from the table, and my chair stutters against the hardwood, then my head bangs against the bay window behind me, but I don’t even react. I try to maneuver past Ellie, but it’s worse than trying to get to an airplane bathroom from the window seat. She stands up to clear a path, which means Otto has to get up so Ellie can move her chair. It’s a circus of moving parts, and soon we’re all on our feet—except for Kara, who taps her pen against the open notebook.
“We should get back to what we’re thankful for,” she says. “Do you want us to wait for you?”
“No, no, I’ll be fast.”
Ellie is watching me, her lips parted on the verge of saying something, but it’s too late now. I’m already halfway down the hall before the buzzing in my pocket drags me out of my head and into an unsteady reality. Apparently, I’ve missed two calls and a text from Kat.
SOS. emergency. PLEASE call back.
I fixate on the first half of the message.SOS. emergency. I could say the same for myself. How very like us to both be in crisis mode right now. Before I can still my shaky hands enough to respond, my phone rumbles alive with a third call from Kat, and I hurry into the little yellow bathroom and turn the lock just in time to catch the final ring.
thirteen
“An unmitigated disaster.”
That’s Kathryn’s official review of Thanksgiving with Daniel and her grandparents. From the moment I pick up the phone, she’s a faucet of news ranging from bad (the pumpkin pie set off the smoke alarm) to worse (Daniel asked why the stuffing, made with challah bread, “tasted off”). I pace the few steps of off-white tile while she recounts every detail of a conversation between Daniel and her grandmother. “Bubby straight up cornered Daniel and asked what hisintentionswere with me.”
“And?” I bite down on a hangnail. “What did he say?”
“That he and I were havingfun.” Her voice cracks more and more with every word. “Having fun. Can you believe that?”
“And that’s…not true?”
“Of course it’s true!” she shrieks. “But we’re notjusthaving fun! And it’s not what you say to my grandma!”
Personally, I don’t think any of it holds a candle to listeningto your accounting professor and your fake girlfriend argue the merits of your life choices, but we don’t have time for the context that conversation would need. I test the structure of the bathroom vanity with one butt cheek. When it doesn’t budge, I give it my full weight, keeping my back to the mirror so I’m not tempted to squeeze the pores in my nose. “What should he have said? That he wants to marry you? You’ve been dating for like twelve seconds.”
“He should’ve said that he’s, like, serious about me or something.” The raw edge of her voice snags on her throat. “And it’s been two months, Murph. Not twelve seconds.”
“Same thing.”
Kat’s voice shrinks. “Okay, I called for help and you’re actually being pretty unhelpful right now.”
My tongue presses to the roof of my mouth, barricading back everything I would say if I had been honest with her earlier. I need to ask her about the transfer app and if there’s any grace on that deadline. I need to tell her about Ellie and the kiss and the work in progress that is my reputation with Kara Meyers. Mostly, I need to pull myself together, get off the phone, and get back to the table to finish what I started. But as far as Kat is concerned, I’m still on my parents’ couch. I should’ve been honest from the jump.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I’m a little distracted. But you’re right. Daniel shouldn’t have said that. Fuck Daniel.”
“Not fuck Daniel! That’s not the point!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” My voice echoes off the top of the shower, and I pray they can’t hear me down the hall. Just in case, I dial it back to murmur. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me that my family isn’t going to think my boyfriend is a scumbag. That I can fix this.”
“Your family isn’t going to think your boyfriend is a scumbag,” I repeat back to her. “But you don’t have to fix anything. Your Bubby is probably glad her granddaughter is enjoying herself with a boy.”
“It’s Bubby,” Kat says flatly. “She doesn’t think anyone should be enjoying themselves until marriage.”
“I’m sure she didn’t take it that way. And Daniel definitely didn’t mean it that way, right?”
“I don’t care how he meannnnnt it,” Kat whines, drawing her words out with all the drama I should expect. “I care what she hearrrrrd. She’s been looking at me different ever since.”
“Different how? Like bad different?”
“Way bad different. Like I’m the family slut.”
I choke on my laugh. If Bubby knew what I know—that Kat had only allowed Daniel to touch her boobs as of two weeks ago—she wouldn’t be concerned. “Just focus on all Daniel’s Bubby-friendly qualities then. Talk about how smart he is. Talk about his scholarship.”
