katie porter
- january 30, 2020 -

STRETCHING UNDER THE BLANKET, I rolled onto my side. I barely got my eyes open before a wet nose was in my face. I laughed, grabbing at the dog trying to stop him, but that just started the barking, licking, and nipping like all puppies do.

"Kevin!" I laughed again, finally getting the dog in my arms. I tried to get the puppy to stop wiggling and smacking me in the face, but I had a feeling that would be nearly impossible.

            "Sorry about that." Max smiled over his cup of coffee, "He gets a little crazy in the mornings."

            "Just the mornings?" I joked, putting the dog down and wandering into the kitchen. My head pounded, but not from the night before. There seemed to be too much to simply focus on one thing at a time. So instead, I chose to focus on the smell of fresh coffee.

            I stood next to Max at the kitchen bar, "I talked to the guy who runs the Lonely-Hearts Auction the other day. He says his club has to vote on whether or not the bakery can have a booth there, but I'm almost positive they'll say yes."

            He slowly nodded his head, "That's great. We're incredibly thankful for you, Katie. At least I am."

            "I'm really sorry about all of this."

            Instantly, Max shook his head, "No. It's not your fault. We had all these medical bills piling up that needed to be paid. We just lost focus for a little bit there, but we're finding our way back now, thanks to your help."

            My brows knitted together, "What medical bills?"

            He closed his eyes and sore under his breath, "She's going to kill me. I thought you knew already."

            "Max, what do I not know?"

            "I'm sick. As in really sick, but the doctors... They can't seem to figure out what's wrong. I feel like I've been poked more times than a pincushion, you know?"

            "How can they not know what's wrong? I mean, they're doctors."

            Max chuckled more to himself than to anyone else, "You sound just like Elisha. It's really been taking a toll on her and now all this stuff with the bakery. I think it's just too much."

            I stopped with my cup only centimeters from my lips. The realization finally hit me, "Kevin. You got Kevin. How did I now see this?"

            "I just—" he breathed, "I don't want her to be all alone if something happens to me. Most of my days are good ones, but the bad days are really bad. Elisha's been happier since we got Kevin, but sometimes I wake up and she's crying. And, I don't know how to comfort her without making it worse. I think it's hard knowing your husband is probably dying right in front of you."

            "Caleb and I have been seeing each other," I blurted before I could stop myself. I stood there and waited. Waited for him to say something, maybe I was waiting for him to start yelling at me. I wouldn't be surprised; I wanted to yell at me.

            Max took a deep breath and turned to me. He didn't look mad or irritated. In fact, he looked completely calm and I couldn't tell if that was worse, "What about Melissa?"

            I gulped, "They're still together."

            "Does she know?"

            "No."

            Slowly, as if not to scare me, he placed his hand on my shoulder, "He's a coward. Any man not brave enough to love you out loud and in front of the whole world, he doesn't deserve to be loved by you."

            Tears started to form in my eyes and I couldn't stop them from falling; even if I had wanted to, "What if I'm not? What if I'm not good enough for that?"

            I hated that my voice cracked. I hated that tears fell from my eyes. I wanted to believe that I was better than crying over stupid men. Then that simple little question slipped from the back of my head; 'are you happy or are you dealing?'

            "Those voices are lying to you, Katie." His voice was so comforting. I let him take the cup from my hands and pull me into a hug, "The people who love you. Me and Elisha and Ann-Marie, we all think that you are enough. We think you are worth loving out loud. But our opinions don't matter, it's yours that matters. People will only treat you the way you allow them to and if they leave because of that, then fuck 'em. They don't deserve you. But you're the one who has to believe that. Because the rest of us..."

            Max gave me one more tight squeeze before letting me go, "We already do."

            I whipped away my tears with the back of my hand and let myself release at least one sniffle before punching him in the shoulder as hard as I could. Swearing, he grabbed his arm and gave me a shocked look.

            "That's for not telling me you could possibly be dying."

            "We didn't want to worry anyone until we knew for sure."

            "How are you supposed to know for sure when the doctors don't even know what's wrong with you?"

            Max shook his head, "It was my idea not to say anything. Most of the time I feel fine—"

            "Until you don't!"

            He leaned back against the counter again, "Yeah... Until I don't."

            A silence stretched between us and just when I was about to break it, Max rubbed his arm where I'd hit him, "I can't believe you hit me when I told you I could be dying."

            I grabbed my cup and pointed at him, "You're lucky all I did was punch you."

            He laughed, "Oh, come on. What's the worst you could do? Kill me?"

            My jaw dropped as a smile pulled at his lips. Before he could stop me, I landed another punch in the same spot. That time it made him yelp.

            "Too soon?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

            I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, just a little bit there, Pal."

            "Sorry, I've been living with this for a while now." He shrugged, "Humor is kind of how I've been coping. I'm sure Elisha hates it too."

            Still, how could he be smiling and joking right now? I had some pretty dark humor, but this seemed almost too far.

            I caught myself in thought and looked around the house, "Where is Elisha?"

            He rubbed the back of his neck as his lips twitched, "My parents."

            "Yeah, it's something she started after—" He thought for a moment, "I'm pretty sure, the second emergency room visit."

            "I thought they didn't get along."

            He laughed, "So did I, but apparently they've bonded now. It's incredibly weird for me, but she wants to go over there and who am I to stop her. Half of the time she comes home so happy. They're probably the only people who understand on some kind of level what she's going through and I can't take that away. Not with everything that's going on."

            "I agree. Just look out for her?"

            "I will." He washed his cup in the sink, "Listen, I'm taking Kevin to the walking park to burn off some of his energy before I head to the bakery. Do you want to come or you can hang out here or I can give you a ride home? Anything tickling your fancy?"

            I shook my head, "Actually, I need some time to think. I think I'll walk—"

            "You're still not driving, are you?"

            I froze at the kitchen sink. I barely even felt myself move as I rinsed the cup. I placed it on the drying rack before I dared to look at him, "I can't. I mean, I can't even turn the stupid thing on anymore. It just sits there with that ugly ass dent in the door."

            His voice came out soft, "You don't have to, but it wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

            I closed my eyes, trying to block it all out for even one second, "Then why do I feel so damn guilty? I don't trust myself behind that wheel anymore."

            "That's okay. It's okay to give yourself time to heal and process. What happened was terrible, but as terrible as it was, that still doesn't make it your fault."

            I let out a deep breath, "I know. I'm working on it, I promise."

            He patted my shoulder and gave me a small smile, "I have to go, but stay as long as you want."

            I nodded.

            He packed up a dog bag with toys and put a leash on Kevin, who instantly started to attack the yellow fabric. I couldn't help, but laugh when Max simply picked up the dog and excused himself. Their house was too quiet when they were gone, but I had a small feeling that lately either way it's been quiet.

            I only waited long enough for Max to get out of the small suburb before I left. I thought everything was crazy and messed up before. There was no way I couldn't save the bakery now. Now, I had to save the bakery.

            Sometimes, I was thankful that Kensington was so small and other times it was suffocating to say the least. Times like today in particular. I couldn't go back to my apartment. Not yet. Not with all these thoughts swirling around my head. I might actually go crazy then. That wouldn't be a good look for me. I needed to think.

            I felt like I walked around for hours, letting my feet take me wherever they wanted, which was a huge mistake on my part. I'd walked almost all the way across town and when I'd finally taken my time to look, I was standing at one of the few lighted intersections.

            Across the street sat a small 7/11 and next to me was a Mexican restaurant with probably the best burritos in town. Just down the road sat the hospital and fire house. I could practically hear the sirens in my head, see the flashing lights racing towards me.

            My eyes caught the cars that drove past. Not a single one of those people gave a second thought to that light, but there I was. Standing with sweaty palms and my heart beating so loud and so hard it almost hurt.

            I closed my eyes, but that didn't help at all. Someone laid on their horn and I jumped out of my skin. I had to swallow a scream. I could hear the crunching and scraping of metal on metal. My hands automatically went to my forehead. To the spot where there once had been stitches, but they hadn't left a scar.

            I'd walked away while a young woman died. I don't know what happened or why she'd ran the light that day, but she'd been thrown from her car and the only thing I needed were a few damn stitches.

            My breathing sped up. It had been a normal afternoon. I was on my way to practice There was a tiny breeze and the sun was hot. My windows were down, Aerosmith was playing on the radio. I remember my pants covered in soda. There was a fireman asking if I was okay. I could see the blood dripping down the side of my nose.

            Spinning on my heels, I went the other way. I started out in a quick walk and before I knew it, I was running away. Even when I got to my apartment complex, I didn't stop. If I kept going, I'd make it just in time.

            Just before the bridge out of town, I cut down a gravel road towards the cemetery. In the far distance, I could hear the train coming my way. I moved off the road, taking the faster route to the tracks through the cheatgrass and tumbleweeds. I stopped at least two yards away. I was barely able to catch my breath when the train started to whip by me.

            Max couldn't die. He couldn't. He was a good man. All he ever did was help others. He never asked for anything in return. He loved Elisha. He loved her. Why do we even fight for love if it's never enough.

            Love is never enough to save you.

            I sucked in as much air into my lungs as they could hold and then I screamed. I screamed until my entire body ached and my lungs burned. Love was supposed to be the answer. Love was something we fought for. We searched the entire world for. Love was... Love was supposed to heal you.

            You're not supposed to hurt. Love doesn't hurt you. You're supposed to be the best version of you, for you. Because of love. If love didn't save you, why was it here? Why did it hurt so damn much? Why did loving people hurt so fucking much?

            Tears raced down my cheeks, "Fucking coward!"

            I could barely yell. I could barely breathe, but I tried anyway. My body choked back sobs as I went, "You're a coward! I'm a coward. How could I not see this? Why didn't I see this?" Covering my mouth with my hands, I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating.

            I pulled out my phone and dialed Caleb. Listening to the phone ring, my heart sank. The longer it went on the more tears fell. Why wasn't he answering. I needed him. The call went to voicemail and I hung up.

            Once again, I screamed. I clutched the phone in my hands. I'd been the coward the entire time and I hadn't even noticed. I didn't notice Max or Caleb... How was I supposed to stay above water when I wasn't even trying to swim?

            I'd let the current pull me under. I was selfish and lonely. This wasn't love. It was so far from love and I hadn't even noticed. I knew what love was. I'd been loved by so many people. I'd loved so many people and I couldn't even tell that I'd been living a lie. Elisha loved me and Max loved me... Max loved me...

            "You can't do this! You can't! Why, him? You can't take him. You don't get to take him!" I crumbled into the weeds. They pricked through my jeans. Looking up at the sky, completely defeated, I panted. There was nothing more for me to give.

            I whispered to the midday clouds, "Don't let him die. Please, he can't die. He's a good—" Another sob crashed straight through my ribcage, "He's a good person. He's good. Please..."

            My hands dropped to the ground, thorns digging into my palms. I dug my fingers into the soil and grabbed fist fulls, only to throw them back down, "Please..."

            My cries were mixed with an almost choking sound. My shoulders shook. I dug the back of my hands into my eyes as I began to rock back and forth in the dirt. I moved my hands to look at my palms, but it was hard to see. They shook too bad and the tears made my vision blurry.

            A hand grabbed my shoulder and I launched myself forward. Scrambling to my feet, I striked a fighter's pose; not that I was in any position to be fighting anyone right now. The blurry form put their hands up.

            "Wow, slow down there, Texas."

            I knew that voice, but I couldn't place where it was from. I whipped my eyes with the back of my hands multiple times, trying to clear my vision, "Jackson?"

            He kept his hands up as if proof that he wouldn't try to touch me again, "I called your name a couple of times, but between the train and you... Well, it was too loud."

            My hands shook, but I still managed to wrap my arms around myself, "I'm sorry. I'm... I'm sorry."

            Closing my eyes, I tightened my arms, but that didn't stop me from crying. I stumbled forward, my feet trying to find some kind of solid ground beneath them, but my legs felt like puddy. Jackson moved quickly to help keep me up and standing.

            "Can I take you home?" He asked so softly that I almost missed it entirely. I shook in his hands, but I still nodded my head. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he guided me back to the road one step at a time.

            After a bit of coaxing, Jackson got me on his motorcycle. My apartment wasn't far, but after the day I had, I wasn't really up for being on such a vehicle. We managed to get through the traffic and all the way to my apartment without any problems.

            He parked his bike behind my car and I let us into my apartment. When I stepped inside, I looked around and started to laugh. It looked exactly like it had when I left the day before. My notebook was even still sitting next to the couch and so was the empty water bottle.

            For some reason in my head, I thought it would be different. Feel different or something like that, but it didn't. The white countertop was still spotless and there was cold coffee waiting in the pot next to the refrigerator.

            "I thought it would be different for some reason." I slowly turned to see every inch of the walls and the floor, "I feel different, but this place. It's exactly the same."

            "It's a building," Jackson shrugged. "This place can't change. Not unless you tear it down and build something new. Even then, it's not really changing. That would make it something new entirely. But people aren't like that. We keep the same shell, but we're constantly evolving. Our personalities, our looks, sometimes even our values."

            Before I could even comment on his little bit of philosophy, his eyes went down to my hands. I'd been careful not to smack them against anything, "Can I take a look at your hands?"

            I let out an airy laugh, "Don't tell me you're also a doctor?"

            He laughed, gently turning over my hands to survey the damage I'd done, "I do have a doctorate, but no. I have had emergency aid training though. You'd be surprised how much it comes in handy. Even if I am only a simple literature professor."

            "Silly, author," I tried my best to deepen my voice, "that's not how you're supposed to tie a tourniquet."

            He smiled, "At least you're making jokes. That's a good sign."

            I clicked my tongue, "And, here I was hoping for a brain aneurysm. What kind of doctor are you?"

            "The Shakespearian kind."

            Rolling my eyes playfully, I smiled, "Of course you are."

            I showed Jackson to the first aid kit, but apparently it was lacking some important and necessary items. You know, like rubbing alcohol. After a few lonely moments of banter and a brow raise from Jackson, I told him where to find the bottle of Everclear in the pantry. From my parent's perspective probably not my proudest moment, but from the recently turned 21-year-old living alone, it definitely was.

            He wrapped up my hands slowly, making sure the bandages weren't too tight or uncomfortable. The last time I had my hands bandaged like that was the last time I was allowed to box under my parent's roof. I'd won the match, but that didn't matter to them.

            I was fifteen and the baby of the family. I was supposed to enjoy ice skating, not throwing punches at other teenage girls. But have you ever met other teenage girls?

            It was a lot more fun punching them than it was spinning around on ice skates with about a pound of hairspray on your ass cheeks so the suit doesn't ride up. However, I'd almost broken my hand and that was the final straw. No more boxing. Or, anything even remotely dangerous for their baby girl. I was to be a proper young lady from then on out.

            If only why could see me now... Neither proper nor a lady by societal standards.

            "There," Jackson flattened down the medical tape to keep the clasps in place with his thumb. His fingers slipped down the back of my hand and we both looked up. I could see the panic flash in the back of his eyes. They were so bright; I could see every emotion that went through them.

            He took in a sharp breath and pulled his hand from mine. Straightening up, he leaned away from me just enough for both of us to notice the space.

            "Anyways, how about I go and pick up something to eat? You must be starving." Jackson sent me a warm smile, "You like pasta?"

            I nodded, "I love pasta. That sounds so good."

            He slipped a leather jacket over his shoulders and grabbed his helmet from the kitchen counter, "Okay. I'll be right back."

            He opened the door, but stopped and I could hear him talking, "Yeah, no. She's here. I don't she's up for seeing anyone, but I can ask. What's the name? Yeah, okay."

            Jackson returned to the kitchen, pointing over his shoulder, "There's a Caleb here for you. Do you want me to send him away?"

            My heart sank in my chest and my voice barely left me, "No."

            "Okay, then I'll be back with the food." I followed him and waved as he backed out of the parking spot on his bike. He waved with a single gloved hand before taking off.

            Caleb watched him go with his jaw clenched. Turning to me, his brows pulled together, "Who was that?"

            "Who was that?" My hands formed into fists and I huffed trying to keep my cool, "Who was that! He's my friend and he helped me when I needed it. Where were you?"

            Stepping forward, I jabbed a finger into his chest, "Where were you when I needed you? I needed you! And, you were nowhere to be found. I called you! I called and you didn't answer! You didn't answer!"

            I took a deep breath, "You don't get to come here and ask about who I bring over. You don't deserve to know that. You don't deserve me. Not as a friend and definitely not as anything more than that."

            His face fell. I could tell that for him this was coming out of nowhere, but it wasn't. If he had only been paying attention, he'd know it wasn't, "Katie, please. I'm just trying to look out for you. I'll leave and we can try to talk again when you've calmed down a little."

            I laughed. He couldn't be serious. As if I was the problem in this situation, "When I've calmed down? Do you ever listen to me? Do you actually hear the words that come out of my mouth?"

            "Of course, I do. I love you."

            "No." I held up a finger, "Don't. You don't get to do that. You don't get to try to sweet talk your way back into my heart. I cry a little less every time you hurt me and I get a little less sad every time you leave, but not this time... This time, I have no more love for you to take away."

            "This time I can't forgive you. This time I won't forgive you."

            I stepped backwards and grabbed the door jam to balance. Max was right, I wanted to be loved with the force of a typhoon. I wanted everyone to know. I was done with all the hiding. All these lies and deception, "I think you should leave."