Back in the bedroom, I went to my dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of briefs and a t-shirt, which I laid on the floor next to Kat’s side of the bed in case she got up and wanted something soft to wear. As I went back to close the drawers, I glanced up at the framed photograph of Erin. The picture used to sit on my bedside table, so that I could look over at her before falling asleep like I used to when she was still alive. I moved it about a month ago, in an attempt to take the next step towards fully moving on from her.
I picked the photo up and stared down at her beautiful, smiling face. She had strawberry blonde hair that she always wore in a French braid that wrapped around the side of her neck. In this photo, she’d put on a little make up so that her cheeks were redder than usual and her lips too. The photo was taken the summer before Vic went to first grade. Erin was freaking out over how quickly our little girl was growing up, and she became fixated on the idea of documenting the occasion with professional photos. I was averse to it, but eventually I gave in and one Saturday we went to a park outside of the city and spent a couple hours posing for a very bossy, overpriced photographer.
But in the end, it was worth it.
Because I ended up with this great photo of my wife, as well as countless other photos of our entire family laughing and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. It was the candid shots I liked the best, and even though Erin was smiling and looking right into the camera for this one, it was still more or less a candid shot. A second before the picture was taken, she was looking the other way, watching me try to help Vic climb up a tree. Vic got her arms over one branch and when I went to make sure she didn’t fall, she kicked me right in the head. I started to laugh, as did Erin, and when she turned her head to make sure the photographer was capturing the moment, he snapped this photo of her.
Remembering that day now, I felt myself getting emotional. I looked over my shoulder at Kat, curled up and sleeping, then back at the photo.
“I’ll always love you, Erin,” I said. I put the frame down and with one last look, turned and crawled back into bed. I fell asleep soon after that.
I’d forgotten how warm a bed could feel when there was someone else in it.
Chapter Thirteen
Kat
My eyes fluttered open, and for a minute, I thought I was still asleep, dreaming.
I was looking at the sleeping face of my boss, and my teenage crush, Jonah Hollis, and I was convinced that none of it was real. I hadn’t come over here last night, I hadn’t seduced the man, and I definitely hadn’t had the most mind-blowing sex of my life. That hadn’t happened.
I’d dreamt it. Obviously.
But then Jonah snored softly in his sleep and turned over on his other side, and reality set in. All of that stuffhadhappened, and I really was there, in his house, in hisbed.
Shit.
I shot up like a rocket and got out from under the covers as quickly and as quietly as I possibly could without waking him up. Then I tiptoed to the bathroom, completely naked still, and tried to take stock of the situation. I went over the whole night in my head.
Okay, so I put my nightgown on, drove over here in the snow, and then—
Scenes from our night together flashed through my mind and I felt butterflies in my stomach and a familiar ache lower down.
Focus!
After the sex, I must’ve fallen asleep. Rookie mistake. I never sleep over after a hook-up, it’s my one rule. Now Jonah was really going to get the wrong idea about me. He was absolutely going to see me as a lovesick girl trying to turn a night of fun into something else. I cursed myself under my breath, then ran my fingers through my hair, splashed some cold water on my face, and snuck back out into the bedroom. My phone told me it was a little after seven, and I knew his alarm would likely go off at any second. I grabbed my nightgown, ignoring the folded-up t-shirt on the floor next to it. I got dressed in what little I had worn over there, making sure to button my coat up all the way, then picked up my shoes and went downstairs.
I was at the base of the staircase, just a few feet away from the door, when a voice from behind startled me and I nearly screamed. “Hello?”
Thankfully, I just yelped, quietly.
“Geez!” I said, spinning around and clutching my chest. “You scared me.”
A teenage girl I assumed was Vic stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal and smiling at me. “Then we’re even, because you scared me first. I thought you were my dad, then I saw those skinny legs coming down the stairs and realized a stranger was in my house.”
I screwed my face up into something between an embarrassed smile and a grimace, and Vic laughed. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m old enough to know what’s going on here, and also old enough not to care. You want some coffee?”
My head was telling me to get the hell out of there, but my body heard the word coffee and took over. My feet carried me against my will into the kitchen and the girl poured the rest of the pot into two mugs. “Just don’t tell my dad I’m drinking the stuff,” she said. “He’s worried it’ll stunt my growth or something.”
I held my cup up to her. “Deal.” I took a long sip and felt my body be warmed by the hot drink and also soothed by the caffeine. This was exactly what I needed. “Thanks,” I said after a few seconds of silence. “And I really am so sorry, I’m sure this isn’t the way you wanted to start your morning.”
She shrugged. “Honesty, it’s fine. I just want my dad to be happy. I worry about him sometimes, especially when I’m not around, like last night. I hate thinking of him sitting in this big house all alone, watching bad TV. Turns out, he wasn’t alone. So that’s good.”
“You’re really mature for your age, you know that?”
She smiled. “So I’ve been told. The guidance counselor at school said that I’ve had to grow up a lot faster than other kids, because my mom died. I’m not sure if she’s right, but I guess it makes sense in a way.”
“Just be thankful you didn’t go the other way.”