Page 74 of Solo

“What? What did I do?” I hold up my hands defensively, trying to figure how I could have possibly pissed her off by bringing her dinner and a gift. But, as it turns out, that’s not what she’s pissed about. It’s the meaning behind the dinner and the gift. And the meaning behind my expression.

“Stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me!” she snaps. “I’m happy. I’m independent. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. Christ, Drew, up until last month, you could barely hide your repulsion when you looked at me. Sometimes I think I preferred that, actually.” She mutters the last bit so softly that I’m not sure I was meant to hear it. But I did.

I stand up and close the distance between us in a single heartbeat, putting my hands on her shoulders so she has to look up into my face. My very serious face.

“I don’t pity you, I’m in awe of you,” I say slowly, softly. “Don’t you ever forget that. And you didn’t repulse me, Katherine, you attracted me. I just—I just didn’t know how to face it. My real feelings scared the hell out of me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Open the present. Please.”

I can already tell I’ve won this particular battle. She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine. If I do, can we be done with this conversation?”

“Sure, I’ll agree to that,” I say, delivering a kiss to the top of her head.

She examines the shiny package suspiciously.

“It’s not a bomb.” I snicker, but she ignores me, taking her time.

At last, she leans over the big box, pulling gently at the huge blue bow. After that, she starts to separate the wrapping paper from the tape so she can pull it off without ripping it.

“What are you doing?” I laugh.

“I’m doing what you asked. I’m opening the present.”

“That’s not how you open a present. You’ve got to get in there and rrrrip it off!” I make a move to yank on a seam but she swats my hand away.

“Hey! My present, right? I can open it with my teeth if I want!”

A smirk crosses my face. “Now that I’d like to see.”

She blushes at my implication and starts to say something, but thinks better of it and returns to opening the gift. Once the paper is off, she grabs it from either side and gently lifts the box, shaking slightly so that the bottom will fall away from the lid. After a couple of seconds, it obliges her by dropping onto the tabletop with a puff of tissue paper.

She glances up at me and I nod for her to continue. Slowly, she peels the gauzy layers apart and gazes down at the material. It’s darker than baby blue, but lighter than navy and softer than cobalt. Cornflower blue, that’s what the saleslady at the fancy store in Charlotte told me.

“Oh my God.” She gasps softly, pulling the parka all the way out and holding it up so that it hangs its entire length.

“You like it?”

She looks up at me like I’ve just asked her if she’d like a million dollars.

“Like it? I love it! Drew, it’s perfect! Look at the length! It’s just long enough to cover my butt and thighs,” she informs me as she smooths the length of the coat. Then she turns it sideways and slips her hands into the pockets. “And I love that the pockets are deep enough for me to stuff my hands into…”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, you’re not going to put your hands in the pockets.”

She’s looking at me like I have three heads. “What are you talking about? How else am I supposed to keep my hands warm?”

“Look in the box,” I suggest.

She moves the tissue paper around to reveal a pair of matching gloves. And hat. And a scarf with big blue and white snowflakes.

Katherine’s face tightens with growing alarm.

“Hey,” I say, my voice full of soft concern. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? I can return it.”