He sighed. “With a friend.”
The girl looked at me, smiling still.
“Turner. And you’re?” she asked me, reaching out her hand. It felt so formal to handshake in the line at the grocery store, but there I was. Unsure what to do with my body and my mouth.
“This is Karina. She’s Phillip’s wife’s friend,” Kael answered for me, gently pressing her hand down between us so I didn’t have to shake it.
Her chin pointed up. “Oh, the French girl?”
I couldn’t read her. I couldn’t tell if she was being judgmental of my friend or if she was merely stating a fact. She was a blank sheet of paper that I couldn’t read a word from.
“Yeah,” he spoke for me again.
I felt like hiding behind him. I wasn’t usually so easily intimidated, and I tried to reclaim how I felt when I looked in the mirror this morning. That confidence had evaporated and I was collapsing in on myself as the noise around us continued to escalate.
Turner stood there for a few seconds, waiting for one of us to talk. I knew she couldn’t care less if I spoke, she wanted to talk to Kael.
“Well, see you? I’ll call you later. Does everyone else know you’re back?” she asked, leaning toward him. He moved a sly step away from her. At least it wasn’t only me who he kept at a distance.
“No. Don’t tell them,” he said to her.
“I’ll try to keep my mouth shut.” She laughed to herself, flirting with him. If I could see that, he definitely could. And in front of me? How did she know I wasn’t his girlfriend? I guess she must know him well enough to not assume that. The thought rubbed at me, making my lungs burn. I would do anything to be back in the quiet comfort of home.
Neither of them said bye, but she walked away after what felt like an hour.
“Do you know her?” Kael asked me. I blinked out of my unnecessary jealousy and shook my head.
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmm,” he said under his breath.
“You do, though,” I reminded him. If he could ask me if I did, why couldn’t I do the same?
Of course, when I did, he gave me a simple “I do.”
It was finally our turn to load the groceries. He stopped me from lifting the gallon of milk.
“I can lift milk.” I rolled my eyes.
He looked down at my wrists. “You need those hands for work. More than I need mine. I know you’re capable, I’m trying to be a nice guy.”
I glared at him. “I was trying to be nice, too.”
“I know. I’m just fucking with you. Let me put the milk up there.” His voice was lighter than it was a moment ago, a different tone than I had ever heard come from his lips. It made my skin tingle. I looked away.
“Fine,” I teased back.
My throat was aching.
Kael managed to move around me in the small space as I went to the cashier. He knew exactly how to toe that fine line between being open and closed. The music overhead was louder; it had to be. A song from my childhood, one that my mom used to scream out the window as we drove from garage sale to garage sale on the weekends, played through the loudspeakers. With each of these memories, I began to feel more and more unsettled. Why were all my thoughts of her so fond lately? I still should be too pissed to care that she’s gone. When would my mother stop haunting me?
Kael and I didn’t talk again as we checked out separately. We both had to show our ID cards, his active duty and mine a dependent ID. He was a gentleman and helped me load my car and carry the bags into my house, and he even asked if he could help unpack them. I hated that my brain was trying to figure out why he was so nice to me. I mean, he was also sort of rude, but he did thoughtful things. I wish I had a friend to confide in, to talk about this feeling that was distracting me. My mother always warned me that love was the most dangerous thing humans could feel, aside from greed, which would be the cause of the end of the world, but that was another issue for a different day. It wasn’t that I was emotionally unstable, I could say I was attracted to this stranger who I’ve only known for two days, but I was a logical person. It was more the feeling of owing him something for his kindness. I couldn’t accept kind gestures or compliments from people if I didn’t feel worthy of them.
But as much as he made me feel flustered and a little bit paranoid, I was starting to kind of like the way I felt around him. We weren’t doing anything wrong. Nothing. We were grocery shopping, sharing a living space, and talking about nearly every thought I had.
“Everything okay?” he asked, after all the groceries were put away. It took half the time with him helping and I didn’t have to tell him to recycle the paper and plastics. You’d be surprised how many people I knew who didn’t recycle.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just in my own head.” I summoned his words and used them to avoid answering his question. He let out a breath and didn’t look directly at me. My eyes followed his movement from the fridge, to the cabinet to grab a glass, and back to the fridge. He poured himself some water, splashing a little onto the floor. I liked the way he silently used my kitchen as his own. He had become familiar with my little house in such a short time.