Текст книги "Katherine in Gold"

Автор книги: J. B. Hartnett

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

SEPTEMBER

Katherine

Summer had seen some exciting changes at Bear Claw. The first and most important were the hours we operated. Five days a week, bear Claw was open from seven in the morning until eight at night. Friday and Saturday, we were open until ten, because we now had entertainment those days. We only allowed locals to perform, and the rule was, they had to be acoustic. I didn’t want to piss off the neighbors…since I knew most of them.

It was exactly four in the afternoon on a Friday. Leo and Harry had just come in for the night shift, which meant Holst and I were done for the day. That was our new schedule. Harry and Leo alternated opening shifts with Holst, so we now worked five days a week, eight to four, and the rest of the time…

Was ours.

Holst’s apartment had been rented out to none other than Frodo, who’d been living in Dana Point. He wanted to be in town, closer to work, since Nico was mostly a stay-at-home dad now. Zack and Frodo were relentless in their teasing of him, but Zack was busy, too, with his little girl, Zola. She was all white skin and black hair like his wife, Teensy. But her personality was shades of Zack, so, basically, they had their hands full.

In the last few months, I didn’t think it escaped anyone, least of all Dee, that Frodo never had the same girl with him. He was as discreet as he could be, but I knew he wasn’t serious about any of them. More than a few times, I’d watched him stare up at Beachy Bride and Dee’s cottage, his face awash with pain and emotion he was unable to hide with those sad, blue eyes. But I had hope.

There was always hope.

My mother now lived in Laguna Niguel. Just far enough away for me to be comfortable if she called and said she was on her way over.

And she had officially filed for divorce.

I climbed up the back steps to the roof deck of Bear Claw and right into our overgrown garden. Holst wasn’t pruning or watering. He was shouting into his phone as I approached.

“No, you listen to me!”

I stood behind and gently touched my mouth to his shoulder. “H?”

He turned to me, his caramel eyes angry, his jaw clenched, and one hand combing through his thick hair.

“No. I do not believe you, and I said no. Do not contact her.”

He disconnected the call, and I was pretty sure who it was, so I guessed. “My dad?”

He gave an abrupt nod.

My father had offered Holst a whopping five-hundred grand for our business. But it wasn’t for sale. He didn’t really want it anyway. He was just pissed I’d taken a risk and had succeeded without his help.

I chuckled and asked, “How much did he offer this time?”

He shook his head. “He didn’t.”

“Really? What was all that about then?”

He sat down on one of the benches. Leo was a smoker, and Gloria was a sneaky smoker, so we made sure the roof was their escape to not be shamed publicly. “He asked if he could give you away, baby. He also offered to pay for the honeymoon.”

My mother had already paid for the wedding, which meant, he’d paid for it. Because of this, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Fuck off, he did not!”

Instead of answering, he just gave me his serious face.

“Wow. I can’t believe that.”

“There’s more.”

He stood up and cupped my jaw in his hand.

“Hit me, H.”

His anger began to fade as he said my name. “Katherine…”

I knew Holst. I knew this man would never do or say anything to hurt me. Our wedding was only a week away. I decided I couldn’t wait until Christmas to be his wife…a church wedding, a sit down dinner reception, all very traditional, and I hadn’t invited my dad. He kept trying to find ways to apologize, even asking to be partners in our business, buy us out, the amount of the offer increasing each and every time. But according to my mom, it was his way of trying to be part of my success. His last words to me were ugly. Max had gone ahead with his wedding, of course. Since her parents owned two independent hotels, it was more like a business merger.

But I still hadn’t allowed my father into my life.

“Just tell me.”

His thumb brushed my cheek. I held onto his wrists to prepare myself, because I knew, whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Is he sick?” I guessed.

He exhaled and tilted his head. “Yeah, baby. But he could sell venom to a snake and I couldn’t tell the difference.”

I grinned at his perfect analogy of my dad. “Is it his dying wish to walk me down the aisle?”

“He wants a chance to say he’s sorry in person…before it’s too late. Those were his exact words. Part of me thinks a dying man would’ve been more emotional though.”

I closed my eyes tight and listened: the ocean, the cars, voices of people and music from Coastal Ink…

“I’ll call him. I don’t need to see him, but if he is sick, I need say goodbye, or I’ll regret it. Not for him, for me.”

“Whatever you want, Katherine.”

“Love you, H.”

“And I love you, Katherine.”

Holst kissed my cheek as I took his cell from him. He left me alone in the privacy of the garden as I sat on top of the picnic table and dialed the last incoming number.

“Holst, I’m glad you called back. Please listen to me—”

“Dad.”

He said nothing. Dead air for well over a minute. I wasn’t going to go first. He could suck it up and say what he wanted to say. “Katherine…I’m sorry. I’m…I can’t change anything, but I’m sorry.”

“Are you still in business with Max?”

He again was silent.

“If you’re still in business with Max, Dad, there really isn’t anything to say.”

“You and Mom get everything.”

“Leave it all to Mom.”

It was a simple request and a final request. I wanted nothing from him but an apology. I got it. It seemed heartfelt, so I needed that to be it. Except, as the wheels turned in his silence, something occurred to me.

“Are you actually dying? Or was that a ploy to get Holst to give me this message.”

“Katherine…”

I should’ve known.

“Dad, I’m in a good place. I’m happy. I was happy when you tried to come in and shit all over my life. And I should’ve known you weren’t really sick when you upped your offer on the business. ‘Long term investments are the payment for short term risks.’ Those are your words, Dad. I’m not an idiot. I know how much the apartment building is worth, and I know how much the business is worth. I also know it killed you to let that place go, and I know why you did. You knew, Dad. You turned the blame on Mom, and then you turned it on me, but you knew, or at least suspected…and you didn’t care. The Florida deal was worth more than your daughter, and you needed Max as your lackey to do all the schmoozing and heavy lifting. So do me a favor—”

“Katherine, if you’d let me—” he interrupted, his patience and sweet overture waning.

“Dad, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart…do me a favor and go fuck yourself.”

I hung up and had the sudden urge to rip every plant from every pot of the lovely little garden. Then I wanted to smash Holst’s phone into a thousand tiny pieces. But after all of those emotions, I closed my eyes and thought about the fact, in just a week, I’d be getting married.

“Hey,” Tori called from behind me. I wiped my eyes of the few tears that seemed to ignore the directive I gave my brain of, “Do not cry,” and watched her approach.

“Where’s my favorite girl?” I asked. “I mean, my other favorite girl?”

She sat on the table next to me, took the phone from my hand, laced her fingers through mine, and squeezed. It was then I turned into her and let every single feeling and fear that confirmed my dad had no redeeming qualities come to the surface through my eyes.

Tori spoke softly against my hair, her words expressions of comfort given to someone in pain, because Tori knew. She knew it wasn’t me to let loose with the waterworks, and the few times in our relationship, all recent, that I had, those were huge, they were momentous, and that’s exactly what this was—the death of hope. It was just lucky I found a way to come to terms with my mother’s lack of mothering. Her fervent apologies, her details of our finances when I was growing up, how Dad needed Max for the business…more than he needed his daughter, and that right there, that was unforgiveable.

Tori brushed my hair to the side. I’d let it grow as long as it ever had for the wedding. I’d always kept it long, but now, with regular cuts and far less abuse on my body, it was at the middle of my back.

“Hey,” she said.

“Bet you never thought you’d see the day when I opened a business, cried…often…stood up to my dad, fell in love, and bought a wedding dress.”

She closed her eyes slowly and smiled back up at me. “No, honey, I always knew. I’m a happily-ever-after kinda girl.”

I smiled back at my bestie and decided, right then and there, plans needed to be made. “Can we die here?”

“Like…right here?” She laughed.

“I mean…I want us to be here when we’re old ladies. I don’t care if we have to get an escalator installed up to your house.” I could look from Bear Claw’s rooftop and see the porch and yellow eaves of her home. And Cam took my advice from months ago and finally installed a porch swing.

“Cam said this was our forever house. So, yeah. We can die here,” she agreed. “He's making me go to a specialist before I get knocked up again.

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Can you blame him, babe?”

“Shut up.” She smiled. “I better go. Love you, Kath.”

“You, too, honey.”

As she left, I looked at the surroundings from my rooftop perch and spied something I probably shouldn’t have seen.

Frodo.

He was at Dee’s front door. Beachy Bride was already closed for the day, and there was Dee, her arms around him, and it was beautiful. Beautiful because I had the same hope that Tori had, and maybe not now, but eventually, I hoped they’d get their happily ever after.

Katherine

My last night as a Miss. Tomorrow, I would be a Missus. I’d spent the afternoon alone on the beach with my thoughts, waiting for my appointment with Frodo. Leo and Gloria were closing early, and our friends would be coming up to our apartment for a little party. It was informal, casual, just a barbeque on the deck. I’d told Holst we should just have it at the shop, but he protested. Really, I think this was because he wanted to show off his hard work on our deck garden. He spent a little time out there every day, preparing the soil to plant herbs, then covering them with netting to keep away the little animals that would happily dine on the hillside buffet.

I entered Coastal Ink to see Frodo reading a paperback. Zack was talking the ear off a client, but it was all about his little Zola, which was adorable.

Frodo’s eyes met mine and asked, “Are you ready, dear Katherine?”

“I am.” I grinned then turned. “Hey, Zack.”

“Hey!” He lifted the machine from his client’s shoulder. “They should make a movie about a chick getting married who gets a tattoo. I have the perfect title: The Bride Wore Ink. Catchy, right?” he asked me.

“I think you’re onto something there, Zack. You just need a crew and a studio and a script and equipment and…”

He was no longer listening to me. He was telling his client all about the storyline of his cinematic masterpiece.

Frodo led me to a far corner closed off from the public. My tattoos weren’t indecent, but I wanted them to be a surprise.

I sat on the edge of a black, padded table wrapped in plastic and shook like a leaf. I was nervous, embarrassing as that was. I’d never had a tattoo. The closest I’d come to having pain inflicted on my person was a Brazilian wax.

Frodo wheeled himself toward me on a little stool and put his hands on my thighs. “Shall I tell you a story?”

My teeth chattered my reply. “Sorry.”

“Quite all right. This is not the first tattoo I’ve given to a novice.”

“You make it sound like I’ll be getting more.”

I’d told him before that, when I had bloodwork done, I always laid down. Always. I hated that needles made me queasy, but that was just something about me. I could watch with fascination as the nurse gently pushed the needle into my skin. I’d just be on the floor when she was done.

He grinned and put black rubber gloves on each hand before he instructed, “Lie on your back.”

I felt the corners of my mouth shake as I smiled my reply. “Okay.”

I wore my favorite laze-around-the-house outfit, which I bought with the intent of doing yoga. But usually, I wore it to eat high-calorie desserts and watch TV.

Frodo prepared my skin and soothed me with his rich voice, deepening as he said, “Relax, Katherine.”

I felt him marking the outline, which tickled, but I could handle it.  Instead, I focused on his words.

“Ready for my story?” he asked.

“Sure.”

The machine began to buzz just as he began to speak.

“When I was a little boy, my mother decided to convert to Judaism. Where my addictive personality later found sex and alcohol, hers found that, after one viewing of Yentl, she wanted to learn Hebrew and denounce Jesus. My dad, on the other hand, thought my mother had lost her mind. They were already divorced by then, but Mom had full custody since my dad traveled with work quite a bit.”

The machine hit my wrist, and though my jaw flinched with the sensation, I knew, thankfully, I’d be able to handle it.

“Zack’s parents were members at her synagogue. He and his sister—Katherine, you wouldn’t recognize them if you saw a picture. Zack was a Dungeon Master, comic book reading nerd with a buzz cut and acne. His sister, Rebecca, had braces and big hair. I kept to myself with an act of severe shyness. But after that summer, my father noticed a change in me and decided it would be better to raise his son. It took two more years for him to gain full custody of me, and two summers later, I spent with my grandparents who were Pentecostal.”

“What is that exactly?”

“People speaking in tongues.”

I couldn’t help but giggle, but did my best not to move my body. “That sounds awesome in theory, but as a kid, I think it would freak me out.”

“Well, they feared for my eternal soul, worried that I’d strayed too far from our Lord and savior. I watched other true believers praying, muttering what I thought was nonsense, gibberish…and that was the day I bravely marched in the middle of the church, closed my eyes, and just…well, I can’t tell you if I was moved by the Holy Spirit or not, but whatever I’d ‘done’ convinced my grandparents.”

“For some reason, this doesn’t surprise me about you at all,” I told him.

“One down, one to go.”

I looked at my right wrist. Initially, I wondered if maybe the sentiment was too much, maybe Holst wouldn’t like it. But right then, looking at the swollen, marked flesh, I knew I’d done the right thing. “It’s…it’s perfect, Frodo.”

He wheeled himself and his little trolley to my other wrist. Since Frodo was being so open, I decided to take the opportunity to pry a little more into who he was.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking…”

I’d turned my head to look at him as he once again grinned.

“How did I go from my Pentecostal Youth to pornography?”

I couldn’t control the movement of my chest and arms as I chuckled and felt him hold the skin on my arm taut. “Well…yeah. That’s pretty much exactly what I was wondering.”

“That story…” He looked beyond me, toward the window of the shop, then back down to me again, “…is not as nice, but by the time I finish it, I’ll be done with your other wrist.”

“What’s your real name?” I asked.

He smiled with pride and told me, “Frederick Charles Bell.”

“Well, Fred…I think you should know…I saw you at Dee’s. She would never say anything, not now. And I promised not to mention you to her again. But, and this is a huge but…I know there are people you should shake and can’t, and people you should shake and won’t. And the two of you, I hope you fall in the third category of don’t. No matter how hard it gets, don’t let her go. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.” I smiled.

He sat up and closed his eyes and took his time to reply. But I was happy he had, because he left me with the most beautiful words of hope I’d ever heard.

“Dear Katherine…Deirdre is my dove. She gives me a peace I have never felt. Not with substance, not with sex, and no other human being has ever given me that peace. I tried to cage her and keep her, but she’s not ready for that. She loves me in the same way I love her. I believe that, and it’s in that belief I carry my hope.”

“It doesn’t bother you to see her with another guy? I didn’t care before, and I know guys are different, but I used to be the female equivalent of a dude. If Holst put his dick anywhere near another woman, I’d have to kill him. And her.” I smiled.

“Distraction,” was all he said. He then took my other wrist and told me how and why he got into making pornos.

His story began with, “I was fourteen…”

So was I.

And Frodo and I had so much more in common than I could ever have imagined. He promised me the name of a counselor in town who dealt with older victims of sexual abuse. And when he finished my tattoos and covered them both up, I gave him honesty.

“You know…” I whispered. “There’s something about you, Frodo. I can’t figure it out. Part of me wants to take you in my arms and rock you like a baby. The other half…I can’t tell you.” I grinned, an expression that Frodo returned in full understanding. “But I’m glad to know you, Fred.”

And with that, I leaned down and kissed Frodo on the lips. I don’t know why I did it, but it wasn’t sexual; it was driven by emotion, too much of it to put into words, and instead, I used my lips.

“Beautiful Katherine,” he whispered, his lips still touching mine as he said, “A gift from a golden queen. Go. Go to your king.” He never stood up and didn’t turn to watch me go. When I looked back, he had his fingers pressed to his lips, and I would never tell a soul, but now, I understood him, his secrets, and why Frederick Charles Bell had become the extraordinary man he was.

***

With my wrists wrapped up, I headed home. It was perfect timing, seeing as how I was the bride and I could pretty much do whatever the fuck I wanted. In the last few months, I heard people say things like, “Well, she’s the bride…” and somehow that excused everything from unexplainable tears to cold-blooded murder. (I hadn’t killed anyone…yet). Instead, I took advantage of my Bridezilla status by allowing myself to be late.

I’d parked Holst’s car in the alley behind Dee’s cottage. I was on a kind of high, excited about my first tattoos, excited to get married, excited to walk down the aisle and see Holst at the end. I loved that my mom and I had finally connected and my dad was out of my life. And, of course, just when you think you’re in the home stretch, something comes out of nowhere to fuck with you.

“Kath.” The voice of my boyfriend from long ago.

Mark stood against the hood of the car, his arms folded across his chest and his face set carefully. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or pissed, because he gave me nothing, not even the way he’d said my name.

It was after seven. The sun had already set, leaving that beautiful dusky hue of dark peach and purple on the horizon. When there was a lull in the traffic, I could hear the waves roll in and out, but standing in that alley with Mark, I knew I was very much alone. The alley was covered by the shade of pepper trees, which left tiny red berries all over the cars, houses, and ground, but provided shade for the last three cottages. Dee’s being one of those.

“What do you want?” I moved back a few feet, trying to make the action look as natural as possible. I hitched my hip and stance with full attitude to make it appear as if I was in control.

However, I couldn’t pull one over on him.

“Are…are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?” he asked.

“Well, we didn’t exactly part on good terms, Mark, so I’m just giving us some space. Not only that, the last time I saw you, you made a scene in a public place and insulted me, and did it in a big way.”

He didn’t move closer to me, but he slumped and clasped his hands behind his neck. “If you can spare half an hour, will you come downtown? It would mean a lot to me if you could…”

I shook my head. “I’m already late, Mark. Now, if you don’t mind, get away from my car.”

“I heard you’re getting married tomorrow.”

“You heard correctly, and right now, there’s a party I have to get to, and since I’m the bride, it’d be bad form if I didn’t show up because my crazy ex-boyfriend—”

He moved from the car, and, in three long strides, he was there, his face so close to mine I could smell the aroma of soap and oil paint. I hated to admit that I liked the scent. It wasn’t some overdone cologne; it was the smell of a man who couldn’t hide the job he did, and I liked that.

“Kath, please do this for me. Come to the gallery on Forest, the one in front of the clock. It won’t take long, but I have something for you and your fiancé.”

“I’ll be there in five, and I’ll stay for five, but I need to call Holst first.”

I got in my car and watched as Mark walked down the alley toward downtown Laguna. Then I called Holst.

He answered on the third ring.

“H?”

“Tori and Cam aren’t here yet. You’re not getting cold feet are you? I was beginning to have visions of the two of you, Thelma and Louise style.” He chuckled.

“That would never happen. Mostly because we’re both Louise and would fight over who gets the gun and who gets to drive…and, who gets to fuck Brad Pitt.”

He kept laughing and asked, “Are you going to be much longer?” He then said quietly, muffling the phone, “Your mom is looking a little worried.”

I had a missed call from her and a text that asked, Where are you???

“Mark was just here. He wants me to come down to the gallery. He said he has something for us and…”

“I’ll meet you there. Which gallery?”

“The one by the clock on Forest,” I said.

He disconnected, and I suddenly felt like someone forgot to tell me my fly was down or there was a booger in my nose. And Holst didn’t ask me to pick him up for whatever reason. But it wasn’t long before I drove the two minutes downtown, and, being a Friday night, it took another ten to try to find parking, so I finally gave up and paid an attendant.

The long roller blinds of the gallery windows were pulled. I knocked, the lock was turned on the inside, and Holst opened it.

“I’m officially weirded out,” I told him.

“Baby,” he said to me and took my hand. He stopped though when he felt the bandage on my wrist. My sweatshirt was pulled down enough to cover most of the bandage, but not enough. “What the fuck, Katherine?”

I furrowed my brow in my own what-the-fuck expression. “Seriously?”

“What happened?” he demanded. “Did you burn yourself on the coffee machine again?” That happened one time, and ever since, he always said the words, “Be careful,” which I found supremely annoying.

“It’s a surprise for tomorrow. Tattoos.” There. Explanation over and done. “Now, what’s waiting for me in there?”

His face softened again from worried and pissed to just plain beautiful and handsome. “Come on. But close your eyes.”

I did as he asked and let him pull me inside. The door locked behind him, and I stood still and waited.

“The night of Mark’s show…the one in the canyon?”

I nodded and told him sarcastically, “Yeah. I can’t forget that awesome night.”

“There was a painting at the end of the exhibit. You didn’t see it. I know you didn’t. I think if you had, there’s a chance you and I wouldn’t be standing here together right now.”

I opened my eyes. “Holst, I…I…” Then I looked around the room and saw what he meant. Paintings, beautiful oil paintings, and I knew Mark was the artist. The subjects were different: a seascape, a meadow, an old man. But the focal point of the room was a portrait, a painting, and the subject was me.”

“Holst…I don’t know what to say.”

“That one is his. But there’s another one…at the far wall of the gallery.”

He took my hand and led me to the back, and there was Mark, standing next to a painting that was clearly meant to portray me and Holst. The funny thing was, I remembered that day clearly. It was the day I asked if Holst was going into battle with me. The day I told him…

I’m in.

“I came to talk to you after that night at the pizza place, to apologize. You and Holst were standing outside your café, and this is what I saw. It was a moment between two lovers and the moment I knew I should take his advice. He advised me to paint my pain, and I did exactly that. But this…this belongs to the both of you.”

I started to blubber as Mark put his hand out to shake Holst’s. “Congratulations, and thank you. The paintings are to be displayed for two more months, so I’d like to hold onto it until then, but after that…I can have it delivered to your home or…”

“Bear Claw,” I said, wiping my face. “That’s where it belongs. And we have space on the wall when you walk in to your right for some smaller works, if you want a place to advertise or something,” I offered. But it sounded more like I insisted.

Mark moved his eyes to Holst. “May I?” he asked.

Holst nodded and kept his hand on my shoulder as Mark kissed my cheek, opposite from my fiancé, and whispered, “I know you’ll be beautiful tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what to say, Mark.”

“You taught me to love, Kath. I only learned when I lost it. You were right…about the pain. When it hurts that much, you’d do anything to make it stop. So, I painted. Be well, Kath.”

I nodded, because, well, there was nothing else to say. The painting was incredible and showed our business and the day my future with Holst began. He really did capture a single moment in time.

We left the front door, and Holst reached into the pocket of my thin sweatshirt for the car keys. “Did you pay for parking?” he asked.

“The lot by the bank,” I replied.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and began to walk toward the car when I realized Holst wasn’t next to me. I turned around, and he was just standing there. Pedestrians moved around him, but he was right in the middle of everyone’s path. People were going to dinner or for an early drink or making their way to their cars from work, but it was busy.

“Stay right there,” he said, so I didn’t move an inch.

He put his hand out to a man and woman, a couple, I assumed, and stopped them. And on the other side, he did the same thing, and said to this small group he’d gathered, “You see that woman right there?”

His face became one giant smile.

“Tomorrow, she’s going to be dressed in a beautiful gown, and I’ll be standing just like I am right now. I’m a lucky man to have the love of that woman right there.”

He’d drawn a crowd, something I was positive he meant to do, but I didn’t care. I was always the kind of girl to do whatever felt good and right. And I’d apparently met my match in that department because…he’d outdone me.

With nothing else to give him except for, well, me, I walked to him, pulled his head to mine and laid the biggest, deepest, almost R-rated kiss in the middle of the sidewalk. And I did it with my hand gripping his ass through his jeans. A story I’m sure the good people of downtown Laguna Beach weren’t going to forget anytime soon.

“Leo’s manning the barbeque. Ready to go home?” he asked.

“Yeah, H. Take me home.”