Confessions From A Coffee Shop (22 page)

We arrived at the train station and as I set about getting tickets, Kat wandered off to buy us some snacks for the twenty-minute ride. Neither of us ate much of our brunch, out of fear we would do something to upset her parents. I never felt comfortable around them. Even though I had been trained from a young age to know all my cutlery, glasses, and etiquette, I still panicked whenever I sat down across from Phineas. If I had grown up in his home, I would have died of starvation.

* * *

Standing on the grounds of The House of the Seven Gables, both Kat and I stared at the ocean. It was a stunning day. The azure sky was speckled with sporadic puffy clouds and sunlight sparkled off the Atlantic and illuminated a few boats that bobbed lazily on the horizon. The view was postcard perfect; both of us remained silent, enjoying it.

The tour of the home had been a mixed bag. Our guide was in her mid-forties, and she knew her stuff; however, she acted as though she had late lunch plans and rushed us through the house. It was still wonderful to wander through the old home, even if it wasn’t the exact home Nathaniel Hawthorne had known. Over the years, many changes had been made to attract visitors.

“Do you ever wish we could leave everything behind and start afresh in a new place…‌a new country even?” Kat turned to me, her head cocked as she awaited an answer.

“Funny you should ask. Every time I stare at the ocean, I have a feeling there’s so much out there and that I’ve barely seen any of it. I’ve never lived more than twenty miles from my childhood home. It’s a shame, really.” I kicked some of the pebbles near the water’s edge.

“One day, I want to travel the world.” Kat stood tall, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Her demeanor suggested she had every intention of following through on that desire.

“Deal. I’ll add twenty more dentists and charge them double.”

She looked at me, crestfallen. “I want to help you with the billing. I know my father wants me to stay out of it, but it’s not right. Please, teach me how to do it.”

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. I thought she wouldn’t touch that kind of work with a ten-foot pole. Not to mention that she usually avoided anything that had to do with Phineas.

“It’s easy, really. I’m not sure why your father is so afraid someone might mess it up. Yeah, some claims need some follow-up with the insurance company, but mostly you just punch in the codes and submit them.”

Kat slipped her hand through my arm and directed us back to town. “Do you mind if we visit the memorial for the victims of the witch trials?”

“Not at all. I think I remember the way.”

When I was an elementary student, Salem had been a favorite destination for school administrators. The kids mostly loved it as well. I’d been to the memorial on many occasions, and to some of the witch museums, too. The pirate museum was a joke. All you did was wander through a warehouse featuring sets that resembled Disneyland but without the Walt Disney’s props budget. Even as children, we knew it was hokey. It didn’t stop us from buying hooks and eye-patches from the gift shop and growling like pirates on the bus ride home, though.

Still, there was something about this town. With all the shops catering to witchcraft and to the television show
Bewitched
, I loved Salem’s quirky feel. Kat’s seriousness slowly dissipated as she started to soak in the town’s whimsy. Many of the houses were already decked out with Halloween decorations. Both of us loved the holiday and dressed up every year. Everyone in my family participated, even my stodgy father. Of course, he would normally dress as a doctor or something, but he tried. Phineas doesn’t even hand out candy to trick-or-treaters.

The Witch Trials Memorial was established in 1992, and Elie Wiesel, a holocaust survivor, was present for the dedication during the Tercentenary celebration. The simplicity of it was brilliant: twenty granite benches sitting on the periphery of a small park, each bench inscribed with the name of the accused and the manner in which he or she was killed, along with the date. Twenty people, all ostracized by their friends, family, and neighbors. I didn’t ask Kat why she wanted to see it, but I believed she felt a connection with the victims. With all of her privileges and her stunning looks, Kat still always felt as if she was on the outside looking in; that no one really knew her.

We walked around the perimeter, reading each inscription in silence. A few tourists were milling about, but mostly we had it to ourselves. We slowly made our way through the Burying Point, the cemetery situated right next to the memorial, before making it back to the city center.

“Want to have an early dinner and drinks?” I asked. The cookies we had on the train hadn’t curbed my appetite, and after such a somber stroll, I needed a drink.

On Front Street, we strolled by a tourist trap that served lobster. “Since we’ll be rolling in dough soon, can I buy you some lobster?”

Kat’s face twisted into a smile. “It’s been awhile.”

The inside wasn’t impressive looking, some tables and a bar, but they had seats outside and even though it was October, it was warm enough to sit outside.

We grabbed a table, noticing that a band was setting up on the opposite side of the sidewalk. Kat ordered a champagne cocktail with gin, sugar, and lemon juice. I got a Harpoon’s Hard Cider. Something about autumn always made me crave cider. Since we were celebrating, I ordered Kat the calamari appetizer and some fries for myself.

“Maybe there’ll be dancing.” Kat’s eyes sparkled, and she stirred her drink with a plastic straw. It was in a plastic cup too. So high class. Phineas would not approve.

“I hope so. I happen to know a beautiful woman I would like to have as my dancing partner.”

“Oooo…‌that wasn’t cheesy at all.” She batted her eyelashes at me.

“Well, maybe it was, but it’s true.” I leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“I don’t believe it! What are you two doing here?”

I turned to find Samantha and Lucy standing outside the rope that blocked off the restaurant’s outdoor seating.

“A little sightseeing, actually. What are you two doing here?” I stood to hug them both. Kat didn’t get up. She smiled, but her annoyance that we had run into them again was obvious and palpable.

“Lucy’s parents live in town. We stayed the weekend, and we wanted some time away from the parental units.” Samantha glanced over her shoulder. “Are they going to have live music? What do you say, Luce, shall we crash their dinner?”

Lucy looked uncomfortable at being put on the spot but was at a loss for words.

“Yes, of course, have a seat.” I dashed off to steal a couple of unoccupied chairs from a nearby table. Kat stayed seated, but she did her best to hide her disappointment with a welcoming smile. I doubted she wanted company tonight at all, but the fact that it was Samantha made it even worse. But what could I do‌—‌send them away?

When they were seated, I motioned for the waiter to bring us more menus and water. Sam shouted for a beer. Lucy fidgeted with the drawstrings on her hoodie.

“Did you grow up in Salem?” I asked, hoping that if I got her talking the awkwardness would fade.

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“Her family has lived around here since the whole witch craze,” said Samantha proudly.

“Really?” Interest erased the tension from Kat’s face.

I felt a change in the atmosphere, and I let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Yeah,” Lucy muttered again before finding other words to say. “One of my family members was found ‘guilty.’” She made quote marks with her fingers.

“Oh, my, how horrible.” Kat covered her mouth with one hand. “I’ve always been fascinated by the history here, but this is my first visit.”

I looked at Kat, amazed. “You didn’t go on any school fieldtrips here?”

“Fieldtrips? Do you think Phineas would allow that?” A flash of anger shot through her eyes. The flame tempered quickly and then extinguished, and she added, “My father is a bit stuffy.”

I choked on my cider. “That’s an understatement.”

Kat playfully tapped my arm. “Not all of us have cool parents like yours.”

“You think my parents are cool? Mom is a nut job and Dad can barely speak in full sentences around other people.”

“Would you trade parents, then?” She pinned me with a glare.

“Not a chance in hell.” I patted her hand.

Realizing we were neglecting our uninvited guests, Kat turned to Samantha and asked, “How in the world did you get Cori to read
Twilight
?”

Samantha giggled. “You held up your end of the bargain, then.” She turned to Kat and said, “Whiskey.”

“On the train here, she had her nose buried in the book, and she didn’t want to get off when we arrived.” Kat ran her hand up my thigh, tickling me. It was good to see her back to her normal self, sort of.

“That’s not entirely true, but”‌—‌I turned to Samantha‌—‌“they’re at the ballet studio and …”

Kat stuck her fingers in her ears. “Don’t say another word. I plan on reading it after you.” She reached for my bag to pull out the book, but it wasn’t
Twilight
‌—‌I could tell by the cover.

It was
Confessions of a Shopaholic.

Kat dropped it like a lead weight, and fished out
Twilight
instead. She flushed and looked troubled, but she continued, “I bet I could get through this in a day.” She flipped through the pages breezily.

Samantha clapped her hands together. “And then it will be your turn, Lucy.”

“What?” Lucy sipped her water through a straw. “I’m not reading that!” Turning scarlet, she added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with it.”

“Oh, get off your high horse. Cori teaches English lit and Kat loves Wilkie Collins‌—‌and they’re reading it.”

Lucy stared at us as if we had termites crawling out our ears.

The waiter approached and all three of them ordered lobster. Being the odd man out, and the only vegetarian, I ordered the mac and cheese with tater tots on the side.

When the waiter asked if I wanted lobster on my mac and cheese, Kat said firmly, “She’s vegetarian.”

Kat didn’t subscribe to my beliefs, but she defended them all of the time. The waiter tapped his pencil and asked if we needed anything else. Kat ordered a bottle of red wine, and for the first time, my heart didn’t skip a beat. I have to admit that knowing my income was going to increase was a relief. Billing wasn’t my choice, but it would be foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth. And if Kat actually helped, that made it even better. It felt like we were in this together. I mean we always had been, but even more so.

Samantha seemed uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the shoe was on the other foot. My money woes were getting under control just as hers were beginning. I saw Lucy comfort her, and I wondered if Samantha had confessed yet. My gut said no, but my heart hoped she had. Going through something like that alone would be tough.

“So, Lucy, how’s Match.com going?” Kat dipped a ring of fried calamari into the lemon aioli sauce.

“Actually, pretty well.” Lucy smiled shyly and squirmed in her chair. “I didn’t think many hopefuls would want to meet up with a nerdy writer, but I’ve had several people ask me to coffee.”

“Several? Do tell.” Kat’s eager face compelled her.

Samantha slurped her beer, and I sat there frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to think of a way to end this conversation.

After Lucy had described some of the women she had been conversing with, she said, “So far, I’m more flattered than interested.”

Samantha’s face lost some of its rigidity.

“Except for this one‌—‌”

“I need to pee!” interrupted Sam, and then she dashed inside.

Neither Kat nor Lucy paused to consider Samantha’s body language. Could Lucy be that cold towards her ex, or was she just completely oblivious that Sam was still heads over heels in love with her? Lucy was book smart. I had checked out her novels on Amazon. She wrote thrillers‌—‌along the lines of the
Da Vinci Code
. From the excerpts I had read, she was quite good. But brilliant people tend to suck at the real world, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

Samantha returned just as Kat and Lucy finished discussing the potential love match.

“So, Sam, have you reconsidered?” Kat asked, eyeing Samantha as soon as she sat down.

“What?” Samantha plunged some calamari into the sauce angrily. Even her fingertips were covered, I noticed. After popping the seafood into her mouth, she licked each finger dismissively.

“Match.com. Sounds like Lucy is having success. It’s a shame we aren’t getting you out there. I’ve had some luck setting people up.” Kat’s tone was upbeat, tempting.

Sam wiggled in her chair, unsure how to proceed. Then her eyes glimmered with something I hadn’t seen before. “Sure, why not?”

I wanted to laugh out loud. Was she going for the jealousy angle? Rub Lucy’s nose in the fact that others might want to be with her.

Looking over at Lucy, I tried to determine if I could detect any hint of hurt. I saw none. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Poor Samantha.

On the other hand, Kat’s mood perked up.

Would this alleviate her fears? She had been joking about
Twilight
earlier, but I’m sure that, in her mind, my reading the book was a confession that I was crushing on Samantha. Was Kat rubbing it in my face? Was this her way of saying hands off? Or of trying to tell me Sam didn’t want me. Women and the games they play. People hate the backstabbing in politics. Try lesbian romances.

I have two rules in life. One is never open a Facebook account. The other is never get in the middle of a girl fight. If necessary, I would break the first rule. But I’ll never break the second.

The band’s guitarist strummed a few cords and everyone at the table fell silent. Thank God. We came to Salem to help Kat relax, and now I was fretting about Samantha’s feelings for Lucy and trying to steer my jealous girlfriend away from dating talk. It would have been more pleasant to walk across hot coals all night long.

The musicians were decent, covering songs from the eighties, but unfortunately there wasn’t any room to dance. Instead, Kat leaned up against me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder.