You Knew Me When (20 page)

“Go ahead.” Laney motioned with her chin toward the porch.

“What?” Katherine feigned ignorance, which might have worked on anyone but Laney.

“Go talk to him. My brother. You know, the one you used to be madly in love with?”

“I don't know.” Katherine shook her head.

“Don't be such a sissy.”

“I feel like it's disrespectful to Michelle.”

“I didn't say go fuck him. I said go talk to him. It has to happen sooner or later.”

“Maybe.” Katherine's stomach churned.

“Yes.” Laney gave her a little shove. “I'll go in the kitchen and chat up Michelle, if that makes you feel better.”

“Okay.” Katherine inhaled and exhaled twice. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Laney waved her hand at Katherine and set off in the direction of the kitchen, while Katherine walked out onto the porch, where Grant was leaning against the railing, staring out into the darkness.

“Hey.” She spoke softly and he turned around.

“Hey, stranger.” He smiled, and Katherine had to stop her knees from buckling. “Running for the hills yet?”

“Not yet.”

“It's good to see you.” He came toward her, standing only inches away. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, but she couldn't. Not anymore. “And my mom is right. You do look amazing.”

“This old thing?” Katherine laughed nervously.

“It's not just the dress, Kitty. You're a different person.”

“Am I?”

“It sure looks that way.”

“Maybe on the outside.” And the inside too, but for whatever reason, she didn't want Grant to know that, at least not any more than Laney had already told him.

“That all?”

“I don't know.” She couldn't lie. Not to him. “So, how come you don't hate me?”

“Oh, I do.” He laughed, raking his hands through his chestnut brown hair. “Or I did.”

“And now?”

“Like you said, I don't know.”

“I guess
sorry
won't cut it?” Katherine looked down at her Christian Louboutin heels, which seemed so frivolous now, standing on Carol's porch with him. The man she walked away from. The man who'd never done anything but adore her.

“I don't need an apology, Kitty. Life happens.” He cleared his throat.

“Well, I am. Sorry.” She lifted her head, meeting his penetrating blue eyes. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do now.”

“Michelle seems lovely.” Katherine changed the subject, a reliable tactic whenever things were getting uncomfortable.

“She's great.” He nodded. “She cooked everything tonight.”

“And she's still cleaning up?”

“That's Michelle.”

“Sounds like your mom.”

“Funny, I never thought about that.” He laughed again, revealing the dimples Katherine had once said she wanted to slice off and carry around in her backpack while they were apart. Cheesy, but true.

“Grant? Grant?” Carol's voice grew louder as she approached. “There you are. Oh, hi, Kitty.” She looked a little embarrassed. “I hope I didn't interrupt.”

“No, that's okay. I actually have to get back to my hotel anyway.”

“So soon?” Carol frowned. “I've barely had a chance to talk to you. We have so much to catch up on!”

“I know, but I'll be here until Sunday. And then I'll be back next weekend. We still have a good bit of work to do at Luella's house.”

“So Laney tells me. Well, you'll have to promise to visit again.”

“I promise.”
Oh, the irony,
Katherine thought. She'd spent the past twelve years avoiding seeing people. What was the point in getting together if you could pick up the phone or, better yet, send an e-mail? Now all anyone wanted to do was see her, see her, see her. And then see her some more.

“Grant, I need to borrow you. A light's gone out in the dining room.”

“I'll be right there, Mom.” Carol scurried off, and he turned back to Katherine. “That's my cue.”

“Absolutely, go.”

“Let's do this again, okay?”

“Oh, sure. That's fine.”

“You said you'll be here until Sunday?”

“That's the plan.”

“Good. My mom's not the only one who wants to catch up.” Grant smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and headed back into the house, allowing Katherine to breathe.

Minutes later, she walked inside, looking around for Laney to say good-bye, but she found Carol instead.

“Are you all set, sweetheart? Sure I can't send you home with some pie?”

“Yes, I'm stuffed. Thank you.” Katherine paused before speaking again. She knew she needed to say something and there was no right time. “Carol, I owe you an apology.”

“Whatever for?” She looked instantly worried.

“I should have reached out to you when Andrew died. There's no excuse. He was such a wonderful man and always treated me like his own. The fact that I didn't even take the time to acknowledge his passing makes me, well, shameful.”

“Oh, Kitty. Andrew adored you. He always said you were a fine example for our Laney.” Carol dabbed the inner corners of her eyes with a hand towel she'd tucked into the pocket of her apron. “Don't even think about it. Life goes on. Right?”

“I guess so. I just wanted you to know how important he was to me, and that not calling you or even writing was wrong. I'm sorry.”

“Nonsense. Now go get some beauty sleep. God knows it's been working!”

“Thank you.” Katherine leaned in to hug Carol and spotted Grant across the room, staring directly at her. He winked and waved. She smiled and blushed. “I'll just go say good-bye to Laney and be on my way.”

“I think I just saw her in the kitchen.”

“Perfect.” Or not. She was probably still with Michelle. Katherine reluctantly moved in that direction, pausing outside the kitchen door long enough to overhear a conversation that definitely wasn't meant for her ears.

“She's beautiful. Gorgeous, actually,” Michelle bemoaned. “And that body? Come on.”

“You hate her, don't you?” This was Laney.

“She seems nice enough. Gracious, they say. Right? Isn't that what people like her say?”
People like her.
Katherine didn't know whether to be flattered or stung.

“Don't worry. Kitty's a bigwig in New York City.
She may be sentimental up here for a few days, but she doesn't want Grant.”
Bigwig, huh?
“Remember, he dated Kitty, not Katherine.”
Ouch.

“Do you think he'd want her back? You know, if she didn't live in New York?”

“He loved her. A lot. And it was hard for him to get over her, but he did. He loves you now, Mich. Be secure in that.”

Katherine crept away furtively. She couldn't go in and say good-bye. They'd both suspect, if not know, that she'd overheard them. Instead she made her way toward the front door, slipping out of Carol's new home as she'd slipped out of their lives so many years ago. As soon as she got to the car, instinctively she checked her phone. There was one voice mail.

Katherine, this is Jane. I'm sorry to do this, but I need you back in New York tomorrow. Call me. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

“I
can't believe you came all the way to New York and we've been stuck inside the whole time,” I lamented, snuggling up to Grant and nestling my head into the crook between his arm and naked torso. You really have to like the person you're sleeping with if you're going to share a twin-sized bed, which is what Grant and I have been doing for the past two nights in my hole-in-the-wall—albeit roommate-less—dorm room.

“Remind me what's wrong with that?” He pulled me on top of him with his strong arms and nipped at my earlobe, scattering soft kisses along my jawline and down the front of my neck, which he knows drives me crazy, in a good way.

“I really wanted to show you the city,” I pouted, rolling off Grant and sitting up to face him. “I can't believe you've never been to the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty.”

“Neither had you until last year.” He tried to draw me back toward him, his eyes greedy with lust and clearly apathetic with regard to the Empire State Building. Or any other tourist attraction, for that matter.

“I know! It's disgraceful. And what about MoMA and the Met and the Natural History museum? I had an extensive itinerary typed out for us!” It's not that I don't enjoy spending the whole day and night in bed with Grant; it's just that I never get to show him any of the stuff I tell him about. As it turns out, New York is really awesome. There's an endless list of things to do, from museum exhibitions and sightseeing to amazing restaurants and Broadway shows. And, of course, there's Central Park, with its boundless possibilities. I'm not sure why I thought I wouldn't love it here.

“I guess Mother Nature had something else in mind.” He grinned naughtily, and whatever angst I'd had over my well-laid plan began to melt away. Grant has that affect on me. He always has, but now that we don't get to see each other very often, his powers are even more potent.

For the past three years, Grant's been at UVM, and for two of those years I've been at NYU. It's been virtually impossible for him to visit me or for me to visit him on the weekends, since Burlington is way too far to travel for a weekend trip, and vice versa. Plus I have a job at the student center here on Saturdays, which I can't skip out on. Although yesterday Grant used his powers to convince me otherwise. It's the first time I've called in sick since I took the position the second week of my freshman year. Rolph, my boss, was definitely perturbed, considering it's been snowing hard for a day and a half, which means a lot of people are at the student center. But when Grant begged and pleaded and then unleashed his dimples on me, I finally caved—which, for the record, is very unlike me. Rolph told me I'm the most reliable, organized, and efficient employee he's overseen in his fourteen years of running the student center. He's probably rethinking those accolades now.

I just couldn't say no to Grant. He cut all of his classes on Friday to hitch a ride with a group of guys he doesn't even know, just because they were driving to New York and he wanted to spend forty-eight hours with me. He didn't even tell his parents or Laney, who think he's in Boston. Well, Laney may know better. She did call me on Friday after Grant was already here to grill me about what I was doing this weekend and what Grant was doing in Boston. It was a little hard to maintain my composure while Grant was peeling off my jeans, though somehow I managed. I don't know why he didn't just tell her he was coming here. I encouraged him to, but Grant insisted she'd be jealous and want to come with him, which is probably true. I really do hate lying to Laney, though this seemed like a harmless enough fib and for a worthwhile cause.

“Mother Nature sucks!” I lay back down, nuzzling Grant once again and inhaling the undertones of lavender in his signature cologne—Drakkar Noir—which he's been wearing since before we started dating. It's become an aphrodisiac for me, which can be dangerous, considering it's one of the most popular colognes on the market. Sometimes when I'm riding the subway I'll get a whiff of it and unknowingly migrate toward a random stranger merely so I can transport myself to moments like this, even if only between stops.

I can't lie. It's been challenging being away from Grant. I really struggled with it for the first few months of my freshman year. Sure, he'd already been at college for a year, but it was different when I was still in Manchester. For one, he was coming home every weekend and there was something about knowing he was close by, even if we weren't physically together. Does that make sense? It was like I knew I could get to him at a moment's notice if I needed to, even though I never did. Then, suddenly, my own first year arrived and I was on my own, in a new and entirely intimidating place, where I knew no one, and all at once that security was gone. Because that's what Grant is. He's my security blanket. And when your security blanket is ripped off like a bandage—in one swift motion—well, let's just say it stings. I can't tell you how many times I considered transferring to UVM. The only person I told was Luella, and she said that I couldn't give up on New York until I'd truly experienced it, and if I still wanted to move back after that, she'd support my decision 100 percent.

I wanted to heed Luella's advice and go out and live it up, take a great big, juicy bite out of the Big Apple. But I had no one to go out and live it up with, so instead I immersed myself in classes. Until I met Freya. She sat next to me in Biology 101 and instantly reminded me of Laney—not in appearance, but in personality. She was outgoing, possibly to a fault, and a little full of herself, with her wavy, thick brown hair that fell midway down her five-foot-eight statuesque dancer's body, and her doe-shaped hazel eyes hooded by eyelashes so long they flapped like butterfly wings. Freya was up for any adventure she could conjure. She told me she was from Connecticut, only about an hour or so out of Manhattan, and that she would be my personal tour guide as long as I could help her pass bio. Sounded like a good deal to me.

Freya lived up to her word and then some. Before long, my nights spent pining over Grant in my triple room with my two excruciatingly quiet Korean roommates were a thing of the past. If it was going on at NYU or in the surrounding city, Freya was there, and by association so was I. Phone calls with Grant—which had once been as frequent as three or four times a day—became more sporadic and, eventually, a day or two could pass without us being able to catch each other for more then a few abbreviated minutes—just long enough to remind us how much we loved each other and that we couldn't wait to see each other. I even stopped counting down the days on my UVM calendar. Yes, it's my third one.

“Really? I think Mother Nature knew exactly what she was doing.” Grant kissed me tenderly on the lips, tracing the outline of my face with his index finger, and my whole body ached for him, even though he was still there.

“I don't want you to go.” I kissed him back and he pulled me closer, until I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine.

“I don't want to go.” He nibbled at my ear.

“I miss you so much when we're apart.” My eyes burned, threatening to mist, and I squeezed them shut in protest.

“Let's not think about it. I'm here now.” He lifted my tank top over my head to expose my bare breasts and began working his way down to my nipples—grazing, caressing, stroking.

“I know, but . . .”

“Shhh.” He pressed his finger to my lips, trailing gentle kisses from my nipples to my navel and back up to my mouth, urgently exploring every inch of my body, until I couldn't hold back anymore.

•   •   •

Four
hours later, I was alone. It never gets easier. Learning to exist separately is one thing, but the actual extrication itself continues to be that special brand of tear-you-up-on-the-inside painful. Like when you lose your appetite and just want to lie in the dark alone, listening to cheesy eighties ballads. I felt a little sick and started calculating how long it would take to get to Bennington by bus the following weekend. Unfortunately, I knew the answer. Long. Too long. Not to mention that I'd lose my job.

Before I could become completely mired in self-pity, the phone rang. I sprang for it, despite being the only one in my single room, with the hopes that it would be Grant. Maybe he'd pulled over to call me from a gas station, unable to endure the six-hour drive without one more profession of love.

“How's my favorite girl?” Luella's voice came clearly and cleanly through the receiver.

“I'm okay. He left a few hours ago.” I'd told Luella that Grant was coming. She knew she couldn't tell the Drakes, which she didn't appreciate, insisting repeatedly, “I will not get in the habit of fibbing for you kids.” I swore it would only be this one time, so she relented, against her better judgment—her words, not mine. I thought about pointing out that we're not kids anymore, but seeing as I was asking her to lie, I figured it might not be the best approach.

“I get that it's hard, but you're really thriving there, so I hope you won't let it get you down for too long. Your father is so proud of you, Kitty; he tells everyone in town that his brilliant daughter goes to New York University in the big city. Your mother would have been very proud too.”

“Maybe.” Luella's always saying things like that about my mom, even though she never met her. I think she feels like it's her responsibility to make sure I don't hate a ghost. “She never seemed all that proud when she was alive, so let's not give her too much credit.”

“Don't be silly, Kitty. I know for a fact that she loved you more than anything, and she's smiling down on you from heaven.”

“Then why was she so critical of me all the time?”

“Sometimes people have a strange way of expressing love.” Luella cleared her throat, and I decided to leave it at that. I didn't have the wherewithal to combat even her standard defense of my dead mother. “Now let's talk about when I can come for my next visit. I was thinking mid-March, when the weather will be a bit nicer. Perhaps a walk around Central Park if it's a warm day.”

“That sounds good. Remember, you promised to try one of the hot dogs from the cart.” The mere thought of it made me giggle. Luella Hancock did not do street food.

“Yeah, yeah.” I could picture her waving her hand dismissively in the air. “All right, then, my dear. I'll book my room at the St. Regis. And in the meantime, don't sulk all day long. You've got a whole city to explore right outside your door.”

“I won't.”
I might.
“Thanks, Luella. Love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

I knew she was right. I also knew that by the time next weekend rolled around, the pit in my stomach would be replenished with whatever exploits Freya had in store for us post-Grant, as she likes to call it. In fact, in a few weeks, I may be wondering once again, even if only for an instant, what it would be like to kiss Ben, the unbelievably hot guy in my English lit class. Not that I'd ever act on it.

Ben could never be Grant. No one could ever be Grant. I just have to keep reminding myself.