Testing Kate (9 page)

But then Jen grinned at me. “Don’t pay any attention to me,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”

I studied her pale face—the high forehead, the keen eyes, the snub nose, the wide mouth. She might not have been a traditional beauty, but Jen was really quite pretty in her own way. I even liked the slight gap in her front teeth; it gave her a witty, offbeat look.

“Come on, let’s walk,” Jen said, standing suddenly.

“I thought we were running.”

“God, are you trying to kill me? And I can’t smoke if we run,” Jen said, pulling a pack of Marlboro Lights and a plastic banana-yellow lighter out of her pocket. “Hey, watch where you step, there’s a pile of dog shit right there.”

Chapter Twelve

O
kay, this is it. Our last official study group before finals,” Nick announced.

Addison hummed the theme music to
Jaws
.

“I thought we were meeting next weekend,” Lexi said.

“Only informally,” Nick replied.

“As opposed to what?” I asked. “It’s not like our study groups have been run with military efficiency up until now.”

“This is the last time we’re going to go over the reading assignments,” Dana explained. “Next Sunday we’re going to exchange outlines, and then we’re all on our own.”

“When was this decided?” I asked.

“We took a vote while you were in the bathroom,” Jen told me.

“Oh, okay, then. As long as it was decided democratically,” I said.

“And, as an initial matter of business, don’t forget you’re all invited over to my house for Thanksgiving,” Jen said.

Finals started eleven days after Thanksgiving, so almost everyone was staying in New Orleans for the long weekend. Everyone but me, that was. Graham and I were spending the holiday with my aunt and her family in suburban Philadelphia. And although I was looking forward to seeing everyone and getting away for a few days, I was starting to regret my decision to travel.

Up until now it had seemed like our first year would drag on forever (a truly twisted version of the fabled fairy-tale curse where instead of being able to sleep for one hundred years like lucky Sleeping Beauty, I’d spent what felt like the same amount of time stuck in a library cubicle). But now that finals were just a little over two weeks away—just two weeks!—I really didn’t have the time to spare for holiday festivities.

“Are you cooking?” Lexi asked.

“As if. Sean’s going to do all of it while I lock myself away to study. But don’t worry, he’s a pretty good cook,” Jen said.

“I’m in,” Nick said.

“I never pass up a free meal,” Addison said.

“I can’t,” I said. “I’m going to Philadelphia, remember?”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you’re leaving,” Jen said.

“I wish I wasn’t,” I said. No matter how much studying I tried to fit in while I was away, there was no way it would be as much as if I just stayed in town. Panic flared, causing a tight, unpleasant pinching in my stomach. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this. It’s a crazy time to go away.”

“At least you’ll get to see Graham,” Lexi said.

I flew into Philly on the day before Thanksgiving and met Graham at the airport. He didn’t seem at all pleased to see me. In fact, he looked pretty pissed off.

“Jesus, Kate, I’ve been waiting for hours,” he said. “You were supposed to be here at two.”

“Sorry. The plane’s air-conditioning system broke. We were delayed leaving New Orleans,” I apologized. I kissed him hello, and he hesitated for a minute—not yet ready to forgive me—but finally he relented and kissed me back.

“I’ve never met anyone who runs into as many problems flying as you do. Every time it’s something new,” he said as we made our way to baggage claim.

“I know,” I said ruefully. It was the bad luck. When Graham and I were on our way back from Italy a few years earlier, I’d been detained at the airport and strip-searched. It turned out that they were on the lookout for an infamous drug courier who just happened to match my exact description. Just the sight of rubber gloves still gives me the heebie-jeebies.

“Mom locked herself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine,” Jenna announced when she opened the door.

“She’s mad at Jenna,” Christy added from behind her.

Jenna, nineteen, was two years older than Christy, but the two looked almost like twins. They were both tall and rangy, and both had a tumble of blonde-streaked hair, although Christy’s chin was squarer, and Jenna’s eyes were hazel rather than blue.

“She is not,” Jenna retorted. “You’re the one who got her upset.”

Christy snorted. “Yeah, like your getting a tramp stamp was my fault.”

What the hell is a tramp stamp? I wondered. I wasn’t that much older than my cousins, but sometimes it seemed like they were talking a different language.

“You’re the one who told her!” Jenna huffed.

“How about a hello?” I asked my cousins. While they bickered, Graham and I were still standing on the front step, shivering against the frigid wind. I’d forgotten how freaking cold it got up here.

“Sorry,” they chorused sheepishly, and stepped aside to let us in. My cousins hugged me hello, and I noticed that when Graham kissed them each on the cheek, Christy blushed. She’d always had a crush on him.

“Your mom’s in the bathroom?” I asked, once the door was closed and we’d shrugged out of our coats.

My cousins nodded.

“She’s been up there for ages,” Jenna said.

“Although maybe she’ll come out now that you’re here,” Christy added.

“I’ll go find her,” I said. I glanced at Graham.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll deal with our luggage.”

I went upstairs, crossed the master bedroom, and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Go away,” my aunt called out.

“It’s me. Kate,” I said.

“Kate!”

The door swung open a moment later, and then my aunt was there, folding me into her arms. Tears blurred in my eyes, surprising me.

“I’m so glad you came,” my aunt said. She pulled back and grinned at me. The girls had taken after her—she had the same blonde hair and athletic build. A faint cobweb of lines was fanning out from her blue eyes, but other than that she looked younger than her forty-seven years. “Is Graham with you?”

I nodded. “He’s downstairs.”

“Did you hear about Jenna’s tattoo?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “Christy said something about a ‘tramp stamp,’ but I didn’t know what she was talking about.”

“A tramp stamp? Is that what it’s called? Oh, dear God.” Caroline shut her eyes and shook her head slowly. “Give me strength.”

“I take it you’re not pleased?”

Just then we heard a stampede of footsteps thundering up the stairs. My aunt frowned, pulled me into the bathroom, and locked the door behind us.

“Mom!” Christy’s voice was muffled through the door. “Let us in!”

“We want to see Kate too!” Jenna yelled.

“Go away!” Caroline bellowed. She collapsed back on a Lucite vanity stool in a dramatic swoon and took a swig of wine. “Here’s some advice, Kate: Never have a teenage girl.”

“I heard that,” Jenna called out.

“And what exactly is a ‘tramp stamp,’ young lady?” Caroline called back.

There was a pause, which Christy filled by giggling. “A tattoo on your lower back,” she said.

“Shut up!” Jenna said.

“Ow, don’t push me,” Christy complained. “Mom, Jenna just pushed me.”

“They’re seventeen and nineteen years old,” Caroline said, widening her eyes with dismay.

But the familiarity of their bickering warmed me. Some things never changed.

“Go downstairs and keep Graham company,” Caroline yelled through the door at her daughters. The girls protested but eventually could be heard padding away and thumping down the stairs. Caroline had a half-empty bottle of wine on the edge of the sink. She poured some into a glass tumbler and handed it to me. She held her glass up in a toast. “Here’s to being home for the holidays.”

“Cheers,” I replied.

We clinked glasses together.

“So, what’s the deal with the tattoo?” I asked.

Caroline’s lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. “She didn’t show it to you?”

“Not yet,” I said.

“It’s a butterfly. Or it’s supposed to be a butterfly. But it hurt so much that she stopped the tattoo guy halfway through,” Caroline said. “So there’s the outline of a butterfly, but only part of one wing is colored in. It looks awful.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Why’d she do it?”

“I have no idea. Why do teenagers do anything? I just can’t believe my daughter has something called a ‘tramp stamp’ permanently affixed to her body,” Caroline groaned. She tipped her head back and downed the last of her wine. Then she fixed her gaze on me. Uh-oh. I knew that look. It was the same one my mother had perfected during my teen years. I was about to be interrogated.

“How’s school?” Caroline asked.

“Fine. You know…hard. But it’s supposed to get better after the first year.”

“You look thin,” she said.

“I do?” I asked, pleased.

“Too thin,” she said. “You’re not eating enough.”

“I’m eating just fine.” I nudged her with my foot. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know. I’m a big girl.”

“Yes, I do. If it had been the other way around…If it had been me who…” Caroline pinched her lips together and swallowed. “Your mother would have worried about Jenna and Christy.”

I nodded, and looked down at my tumbler of wine, and tried to ignore the lump in my throat.

“I know she would have,” I said softly.

After Thanksgiving dinner, Jenna and Christy wanted to go see a local Christmas light display.

“Christmas lights?” Graham asked dubiously.

Graham had been in a difficult mood all day. He wasn’t outright rude to anyone, but he wasn’t going out of his way to be chatty either. He’d spent most of the afternoon sacked out in front of the television with my uncle Jim, not making any effort to help with dinner preparations. It was what he always did on Thanksgiving, and it had always irritated me. And I’d expected more from him. I thought that part of our getting back together would mean that he’d try harder, that we’d
both
try harder, to change things, to improve our relationship. But instead, we’d slid right back into the same patterns, only instead of living under the same roof and never having sex, we lived several states apart and never had sex.

And we certainly weren’t going to be having any sex this weekend. One of Caroline’s house rules was that Graham slept on the couch, while I bunked in the guest room.

“We always go see the Christmas lights,” Jenna said. “It’s a tradition.”

“You all go ahead. I think I’ll just watch the end of the game,” Graham said.

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” I said. I pulled on Graham’s sleeve, and he got up and followed me out of the dining room and into the front hall.

“What?” he asked.

“You
know
what,” I snapped.

“Oh, God. I hate this conversation,” Graham said. He rolled his eyes.

“What conversation? Why are you acting like this?”

“Yep, this is the one.”

“You’re acting like a jerk,” I said. “You know, I really should have stayed in New Orleans this weekend and studied, but you said it was important to you that we spend Thanksgiving together.”

“It was. I mean, it is.”

“Then why are you spending the whole weekend sitting in the living room watching television?” I asked.

“One afternoon doesn’t constitute the whole weekend,” Graham said. “And I’ve been working hard too.”

“We all have. But that didn’t stop the rest of us from cooking all day.”

“I thought it was a woman thing. I figured you all wanted to talk about girl stuff,” Graham said.

I cocked an eyebrow at this. “Girl stuff?”

“Yeah, girl stuff. Shopping and shoes and things.”

“Caroline’s a pediatrician. I’m in law school. Jenna’s majoring in business. We are capable of talking about something other than shoes,” I said, nettled at his generalization.

“So what were you talking about?”

I thought back. Actually, we’d spent much of the day discussing what stores were having sales on the day after Thanksgiving and if any of the advertised specials were really worth waiting in line for. And then Christy had showed off the new sequin-covered flats she’d just purchased.

“Politics,” I said loftily. “We were talking politics.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” I stopped to think of something that he’d believe, although I hadn’t even watched the news in months. “I don’t know. Why are you interrogating me?” I asked crankily.

A smile twitched at Graham’s lips. “Politics, huh?” he said.

I sputtered, trying to think of a comeback. But before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me.

“Okay,” Graham murmured. “Let’s go see the Christmas lights.”

“Hey,” Graham said. He stepped into the guest room and closed the door quietly behind him. “What are you doing?”

It was late on Saturday night, but I was still sitting up in bed, an afghan wrapped around me to ward off the cold, reading my Contracts casebook.

“Studying,” I said. “And you’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Everyone’s in bed. Except for your uncle. He fell asleep in front of the TV,” he said, as he crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Graham reached for my hand, curling his fingers around it. I immediately recognized the glint in his eye.

“Oh, no. No way,” I said, pulling my hand back.

“But you look sexy in your flannel pajamas,” Graham said, plucking at the plaid fabric.

“No, I don’t. And my aunt would kill us both if she knew you were in here.”

“We lived together for three years. I think she’s aware that we’ve had sex.”

“It’s not my virtue she’s worried about. She doesn’t want the girls to think she’s a hypocrite. Telling them to wait, while letting us stay here together,” I explained. Graham un-buttoned the top button of my pajama top. “Stop that!”

Graham popped open the next button. “Make me,” he said, and he leaned forward and nuzzled against my neck. His lips felt warm and dry against my skin, and for some reason the sensation was more annoying than it was sensual.

I hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do. On the one hand, Graham and I hadn’t seen each other in months. Even during our driest of dry spells, we’d never gone this long without sleeping together. But I didn’t want to purposely break my aunt’s rules while I was staying in her house. And even if she didn’t find out, I really just wasn’t in the mood. I don’t know if it was stress or lingering irritation at Graham, but all I wanted to do was finish my reading assignment and then go to sleep.

“Stop,” I said. I gently pressed the palm of my hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Kate. We’re flying out tomorrow, and then we won’t see each other until Christmas break,” Graham murmured against the side of my throat. He slid his hand up my pajama top and pinched one of my nipples. Hard.