Driftwood 17
Title: Driftwood (17/??)
Pairings/Characters: Stephen/Other
Rating: PG13
Summary: The year winds to an end
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16
I checked my phone towards evening, after we had headed back to the car. The theme park was crowded and cold, a wintery humid wind burning through our jackets. Christmas at Disney World was a tradition for us from when I was a child. She woke me early with a squeal and we opened presents, feeling a little odd and out of sorts, the first Christmas without her father there. I had her call James as soon as she was done, and they talked excitedly on the phone. I packed her up and met my parents at the front gate of the Magic Kingdom around lunch time, the park already very crowded, despite the unusual chill. We battled the crowd, drank lots of hot chocolate, and enjoyed a few rides. We headed for the exit as the sun began to sink in the sky, and the weather turned colder, Lucy dragging a balloon and a shopping bag behind her, a chocolate mustache on her lip.
My cell phone was waiting for me in the glove compartment of the car, and I pulled it out after getting her buckled in, and making sure my parents were ready as well. I saw the text message notification, and clicked it open.
I'm thinking of you. Merry Christmas, beautiful.
I couldn't stop the smile that spread over my face, the warmth in my chest spreading into my cold fingertips. He had sent it two hours before. I taped to reply, fingers over the screen, when my mother spoke.
“Whose that, honey?” Her tone light, but a glitter behind her eye, from the passenger seat. I sighed and turned the phone off, putting the keys in the car.
“Stephen, Mom.” I threw his name out in the car, as I started the engine and started our way slowly to the exit, the parking lot as crowded as the park was. I didn't see a reason to lie about it, and I was too happy to care at that moment. Beautiful!
My father harrumphed in the back seat. “I thought we were done with that.”
“Do we have to do this today?”
“We're not doing anything, honey.” My mom interjected. “But your father is right, I thought you were done with him.”
I caught her glance for a moment as I maneuvered us into the slow moving traffic. It was making me anxious to drive in such a crowd, and this conversation wasn't helping.
“He called me,” pausing and glancing at her again, “to let me know that his wife was filing for divorce.”
My mother didn't say a word, but she turned her head away from me and looked out the window. I could feel the disapproval in the air, and it made me angry. Glancing in the rearview and seeing Lucy asleep in the back seat tempered it.
We drove in silence for the next few minutes, and I fiddled with the radio to pick a station, Christmas music coming through the speakers. We finally hit the freeway and I headed us towards my parents home.
My mother changed the subject half-way in, and I was grateful for it. I knew she would speak at some point, but I had avoided the fight tonight. Hugs and kisses for Lucy, and I loaded her back up to drop off at her father's.
I was still in an elated enough mood, I couldn't even be irritated by seeing James. I felt it hit me when I had to say goodbye to Lucy though, who clearly did not want to go to her father's house. That was a battle for another day too. I kissed her goodbye, gave her a good squeeze, and reminded her she could call me before she went to bed. I felt choked up when I realized I wouldn't be putting her to bed in her own room on Christmas Day, but I tried not to think about it too much-there wasn't much I could do about it, and I knew she would have fun opening his presents that night.
James gave me a small smile that seemed to say, “thank you-I know it's hard”, and I returned it, a bit of Christmas charity.
When I got back to the car, it was 8pm, on Christmas Day, and I was alone. I pulled the cell phone back and read the message again, twice, smiling. I taped out a response.
Just got this. Merry Christmas! We went to Disney today, it was cold and very crowded. I just dropped Lucy off, and I miss her. And you.
It was a familiar message, one that I would have sent him 8 months before, a quick update on my day, and a sweet note. Halfway home, my phone on the passenger seat blinked. I waited for a redlight, and quickly read his reply.
I miss you too. Disney sounds like fun. I'm back in SC. I'm breaking the news to the family this week.
I frowned at this, knowing that it would be difficult. I typed quickly while I still had the light.
I hope that goes well for you, or as well as can be expected. It's hard. I'm thinking of you.
My phone was silent for quite a while, enough time for me to make it home, and settle in on the couch. I had turned the lights down but left the tree on, sparkling and color changing in the corner. It was nearly 10pm, and I had a bottle of German spiced wine, a joint and the laptop, ready for the night, when my phone vibrated.
I'm sorry you're alone on Christmas. If I was there, we could review the order of Santa's naughty list from last year.
I laughed out loud at this, flattered and giddy that he recalled our conversation. I remembered that time--I hadn't divorced James yet, and Stephen was still in the “one night stand” category of my life.
But, I thought to myself. Even then... it was different.
Can I call you?
I lit the joint, and took a few puffs, booting up my laptop. Ten minutes later, my phone was buzzing and I picked it up to see he was calling me. I smiled. I was glad he was calling me, and I was a little high, and slightly tipsy.
“North pole, Mrs. Claus speaking.”
“Mrs. Claus, I have an outrageous claim against your so-called husband. And this list that he is maintaining on each and every American citizen. That sounds awfully communist to me, ma'am, and I don't appreciate finding a sickle and hammer in my Christmas stocking.”
I dissolved into laughter on the couch, struck by how quickly he could shift into his character, and by how quickly he could shift out of it. Because he was laughing with me, and then saying hello.
“Merry Christmas, Stephen!”
“Merry Christmas Kathryn. How was Disney?” His voice was warm and close to me, and I shivered when I heard him. I pulled a comforter over me and snuggled down into it on the couch.
“It was good! It was so cold today, and the park was just freezing. And of course it was crowded. But we had a lot of fun. Lucy had a blast.”
And the conversation went from there, talking about our holidays with each other. He asked me my plans for New Years, and I told him-It was James' weekend with Lucy, and I planned on staying home. He told me had a party in New York he was invited to attend, and he probably would. I noticed a level of openess from Stephen that I hadn't gotten from him before. He answered as many questions as he asked, and it was after midnight by the time I thought to glance at the clock.
We talked for four hours last night, about our divorces, and how he was dealing with it, and his guilt. I heard him speak on his marriage. I spoke about mine. He described his children to me, their hobbies, and I talked about Lucy. We talked about the media storm we had found ourselves in, and he had a dozen questions for me-how did I feel with it, what happened, what about my family?
I would glance at the clock and feel that maybe, I should speak up, but I didn't. And I suspected he was doing the same thing. I finally ended up crawling into bed, plugging my dying phone in on the charger, laying curled up under the blankets and hearing his voice in my ear. Somehow, I liked that he was in South Carolina. He seemed closer to me. I told him so, and I heard his smile.
Somehow, in the middle of all of it, everything that had happened in the last four months didn't seem so bad anymore. I found myself listening to him talk about his wife.
“And then I don't know when it happened, but one day I looked around at it, and realized the marriage was gone.” I stayed silent on the line, letting him gather his words and his thoughts, just listening. The silences in this conversation were not uncomfortable ones.
“I couldn't tell you a day that it happened. But one day we were together, and the next day, we still were....but it was gone. And I didn't meet you until two years after that point.”
“So I didn't cause this.”
He paused, “Well, I'm not saying that what happened didn't contribute, but that's not you, that's me. I'd be lying if having those pictures show up didn't make things worse. In fact, I know it's what finally snapped things. But it was bad long before I met you... Money changed things more than either of us would like to admit.”
“Why didn't you want to leave her?” I asked the question that had been on my lips for months.
I heard him take a deep breath. “I never said I didn't want to, Kathryn. The last few months have been hell for me. In all of the years I've spent a comedian, you know, I never once felt like I was living a lie. But this....not this, you and I, I mean...her. And I. It felt like a lie. But I couldn't pull the trigger. Maybe that was weak or stubborn of me, but I couldn't do it. I felt trapped, but I had put myself there. I don't hate Evie. I wouldn't be where I am in my life without her. But...the marriage was gone. She saw it too, and she put us out of our misery. In a way, I'm grateful for her for doing what I couldn't bring myself to do.”
I laid in the bed, listening to his voice, low, soft and slow. A few months ago, a speech like that would strike me in the chest, but I thought his words through, and I felt them. She did them a kindness, I thought, and I told him that.
“I don't want you to ever think that I didn't want you, even when I was silent. I was so scared of hurting you again. But all I wanted was you. It's only ever been you.”
His voice came softly, and I closed my eyes when he said it. I felt the words on my lips and tongue, whispering silently to my bedroom: I love you Stephen.
His breathing was steady and nearly silent on the phone, but I could sense him there, quiet and listening to me. The air felt heavy with what went unsaid. It was a conversation we needed to have. And it was a conversation I hoped we'd never stop having. His voice was in my head when I finally went to sleep that night, whispering goodbye around three. I went to sleep smiling.
Two days later, the flowers arrived. They were beautiful. Julie brought them into me when I was in the office, setting them down the desk.
“He's good,” she said, laughing, handing me the card. It just said simply, “from Stephen” written on it.
“Tulips in December.”
“A bold choice,” she commented, and I chuckled at her. The flowers took up residence in my kitchen, and I couldn't walk by with giving them a smile. I called him that evening and thanked him for them.
“I'm glad you liked them. I feel bad I didn't get you anything for Christmas.”
We spoke everyday after that. Sometimes only for a few minutes, a quick hello or good morning, a check-in. Other days, I would look at the clock and realize two hours had gone by. I looked forward to our conversations every day. It wasn't uncommon for me check my phone and find a sweet text message, a note. It was a good week, the days passing by in the artificial warmth of my house, with friends stopping by for lunch dates, and long evenings filled with his phone calls. I was delighted to actually have a wood burning fireplace, a luxury I'd never had any of my homes before. I cracked him up when I described my fumbling attempts to light one for the first time. He'd said, “I'm going to have to take you camping then. Wilderness style.” For the first time since summer, I felt my life balancing out, and I knew having Stephen back played a big part of it.
We hadn't really discussed what was going on between us. We pushed the line more each day-suddenly pet names have slipped into the conversation, his lips murmuring “beautiful” to me before he says goodnight-but we hadn't come close to uttering what we really felt. I knew a big part of him was holding back because of the divorce. I could look far enough into the future and see potential problems-the biggest being a long distance relationship. I didn't relish the idea of one. And I truly loved my house. It was my dream home, the first piece of my life that was truly mine.
And stepkids. My mind just turned around and sat in the corner if I tried to think of his children. I wasn't nearly ready to approach that yet. My last experience stepparenting had been brutal and heart-breaking. And his kids had no reason not to hate my guts. I secretly suspected his daughter did, by a few comments he seemed oblivious to when he repeated to me, usually after an escalation with her.
These thoughts and others crossed my brain that week, but mainly it was just happiness. I finally relaxed...the depression and heartache of the fall had given way to a Christmas season that was lovely. Stephen had made a passing comment about seeing when he might be able to take a few days off-perhaps in the spring, if the divorce was final. I got the impression that me seeing him prior to that was off the table. But even that idea, a speck of seeing him again, sent the butterflies in my stomach galloping around. I missed him, and I desired him. But for the first time since it all happened, I could pick up the phone and tell him that. And hear him say it back.
On the day before New Years Eve, a knock on the door delivered the dress to me. Liz had brought it to the kitchen, where Lucy and I were doing puzzles.
“Kathryn, a box!”
She put the box on the table, and I searched for an address. The only address was a boutique from Tampa. I looked up to Liz's excited smile, and I cut the box open.
Inside was a gown. It was dark purple, and mid calf length, a dark shimmery satin inky enough it almost looked black. Spaghetti strapped, but tucked on one hip. It was a gorgeous cocktail dress.
“Holy shit.”
I immediately laughed, and clapped my hand over my mouth-Lucy looked at me, disapproval on her brow, but her eyes on the dress.
“Kathryn...” Liz venture, an excited laugh in the back of her mouth.. “Did...Stephen?”
I put the gown on the table, a shimmery pile of gossamer silk, and searched for a note or label in the box. Nothing.
Lucy rubbed her fingers on it, her eyes wide.
“Go put it on!”
I couldn't imagine Stephen buying me such a gift. A dress? Of all things?
“I don't know if I should...put it on. What if it doesn't fit?”
“Then we can get it altered. But it's too pretty not to try it on. Go put it on!”
I took the gown upstairs and put it on. It fit beautifully.
“Needless to say, I am impressed with this guy.” Liz commented, as I came down the stairs, a bright pink feather boa from Lucy's dressup box plunked around my neck.
I caught her eye and smiled wryly. “If this is from him, I'm pretty impressed too.”
“Did he say anything about giving you something else?”
“No, but we talked for hours on Christmas Day. It's probably another way of his to apologize.”
“You should let him mess up more then,” Liz replied, laughing as she fingered the gown. I took it off and hung it carefully in my closet, near the front where I could see it.
I immediately called him, taking the call out front to the porch, wrapping myself in a blanket first. He answered on the second ring.
“Well, hello there.”
“Stephen, I just got the dress. It's gorgeous. I don't even have words. Thank you.”
“Oh, that old thing? I just had it laying around...It didn't fit my hips anymore.”
I laughed at him.
“I don't have anywhere to wear it to.”
“I know, but I did think it would look beautiful on you, so I couldn't resist. If you're going to be my temporary concubine,” a phrase we had laughed up a day before and agreed felt historically accurate, “you'll just have to deal with my reckless spending. Maybe just send me a cell phone picture or something?”
I agreed to that condition, my mind jumping flirtatiously to all the possibilities in the phrase “cell phone pictures”.
We chatted a few minutes more, but he had to go. His wife was moving out that day, into a house across the city. Evelyn had apparently decided she wanted to waste no time getting out, now that the decision had been made. When I asked him how he felt about it, he simply said “It's not like I'm going to argue with her about it.” I understood what he meant.
Early in the morning, Stephen was telling me about the New Year's Eve party he was attending that night, being thrown by one of the producers for the show as a benefit in a local film festival. He mentioned guests were paying hundred's a head to attend the small party. He was excited for it, even more so he said, because Evie was not attending. I smiled when he talked about it, still a bit faintly amazed at the life he was leading-It was hard for me to wrap my mind around. I said I had no plans, since Lucy would be with me, and she wasn't a big fan of fireworks. We lived close to our downtown, and the display that evening would lead to a long night of crying. I hoped since she was older that this year might be different, but she was already starting to show alarm.
“I have to go Kathy, but I just wanted to call and say hi when I could-my day looks really busy, and I have that party tonight. I'll call you later tonight though, I can promise that.” I smiled at the thought of a midnight phone call, and said goodbye to him.
Liz and Julie were both over, the women taking a surprising like to each other. Liz wasn't much of a girl's girl, and Julie definitely was, but they bonded. Liz was going home that night to her family, and left the invitation to stand if we wanted to come over. I was seriously considering it, since her home was further away from the city display than mine was. Julie had stopped into say hello to me, and helped me finish cooking the black eyed peas for the next day.
They were sitting in the kitchen, talking to each other when I appeared after the phone call. We spent the morning in the kitchen, cooking and drinking wine. They were grilling me lightly about Stephen, and I was giving out info, mentioning the party he was attending that night.
By late afternoon, Liz had left, and Julie remained. We were sitting on the front porch, watching the people walk by towards downtown, some already dressed and headed for the local party.
“Kathy, you should put that dress on.”
“The purple one?” I looked over at her, startled. “Why? Just wear it around the house?”
“Well, why not? Get your parents to watch Lucy. You're stumbling distance from bars. Go get yourself a drink in that dress.”
Her plan had legs, but I wasn't the type to go to bars alone.
“I don't know, I am not really down with the bar scene anymore. I would look like a cougar in that crowd.”
“You'd be a hot cougar.”
“Maybe...” I commented, intending it to be the end of the conversation.
“Well, then come out with me. I'm going downtown.”
“Oh, Julie, you don't want your lame ass boss following your around. I'll creep your friends out.”
Julie sat up from the patio. “No, I have decided, you are going out with me. You cannot sit at home alone tonight while he snobs it up in a tuxedo. You'll drive yourself crazy.”
I eyed her. She was acting cute, but I could put the kibosh on this quickly. But I decided to do it-fuck, why not? I had that gorgeous cocktail dress, and I might as well go out. My parents could handle Lucy. Their neighborhood would be quiet.
I called them, and they agreed, happy to see her. I told them I would drop her off in a few hours. I felt excited. I hadn't gone out in ages. I also called Liz, and talked her into coming out with us, although it didn't take much convincing. She said she'd meet us at whatever bar we picked, and to text her when we were ready to go.
By the time we had decided on what to do, the sun was already setting and it was creeping close to 7. After I showered quickly and put the dress on, Julie helped with my makeup. I had to admit she did a good job, and the dress looked terrific. Lucy watched us dress from my bed, and I smiled at her in the mirror-remembering my own mother putting on lipstick in a vanity mirror.
I was going to run Lucy over to my parents, and meet Julie back at the house. We planned on getting a cab. She was going home in the meantime to change clothes.
My dad whistled at me when he opened their door, complimenting me on the dress. I smiled at him, and gave him a hug.
'Thanks again for watching her last minute, I appreciate it.”
“Kathy, go out and have some fun. We'll take care of you, right Lucy Goosey?” He smiled at her, and she grinned right back, already running inside to see what my mother had cooked up.
On the way home, I had texted Stephen, telling him my plans.
How is the party? Are you there yet? Julie talked me into going out. I'm wearing the dress, and it's great. I'll send you a pic.
A few moments later he buzzed back.
Pictures, plural please. Have fun. Stay safe for me. The benefit starts soon. Call you later.
I smiled in the car, already plotting the pictures I would take for him later that night. My parents lived close enough to my house, and a few turns later I was on my street, my mind running ahead to calling the cab company. The sun had had set, and the sidewalks were getting crowded, more people parking and walking into downtown, Christmas lights still light on most houses. On nearby streets, early celebrators already had fireworks out, a haze starting to settle in over the orange streetlights. It was a warmer night than recently evenings, but there was still a southern winter chill to the air. I mentally noted to find a shawl when I got home, before we left.
I didn't see the black sedan parked in the driveway until I was four houses up. I blinked in surprise and then remembered that we were ordering a cab. I parked on the street, and gathering my bag and keys, I scooted out of the car in a hurry, knowing the meter was running on the cab, and Julie was waiting for me inside.
I walked quickly past the car, noting the drive in the seat, and into the brightly lit house.
“Julie, I'm here-are you ready? The cab is out front.” I called out into the house, expecting her to come down the stairs in a moment.
“The driver will wait for us.”
I stopped dead in my tracks in the hallway, too stunned to speak, or breath.
Stephen was standing in front of me, having stepped out of the kitchen and into the doorframe, speaking slowly and smoothly. He was wearing a dark suit, one hand tucked into his pocket, the button on his jacket undone. My breath locked in my throat when I saw him, a burst of desire and shock flashing through my chest. A smile smirk played on his lips, but his eyes glittered at me, laughing.
“Stephen!”
Pairings/Characters: Stephen/Other
Rating: PG13
Summary: The year winds to an end
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16
I checked my phone towards evening, after we had headed back to the car. The theme park was crowded and cold, a wintery humid wind burning through our jackets. Christmas at Disney World was a tradition for us from when I was a child. She woke me early with a squeal and we opened presents, feeling a little odd and out of sorts, the first Christmas without her father there. I had her call James as soon as she was done, and they talked excitedly on the phone. I packed her up and met my parents at the front gate of the Magic Kingdom around lunch time, the park already very crowded, despite the unusual chill. We battled the crowd, drank lots of hot chocolate, and enjoyed a few rides. We headed for the exit as the sun began to sink in the sky, and the weather turned colder, Lucy dragging a balloon and a shopping bag behind her, a chocolate mustache on her lip.
My cell phone was waiting for me in the glove compartment of the car, and I pulled it out after getting her buckled in, and making sure my parents were ready as well. I saw the text message notification, and clicked it open.
I'm thinking of you. Merry Christmas, beautiful.
I couldn't stop the smile that spread over my face, the warmth in my chest spreading into my cold fingertips. He had sent it two hours before. I taped to reply, fingers over the screen, when my mother spoke.
“Whose that, honey?” Her tone light, but a glitter behind her eye, from the passenger seat. I sighed and turned the phone off, putting the keys in the car.
“Stephen, Mom.” I threw his name out in the car, as I started the engine and started our way slowly to the exit, the parking lot as crowded as the park was. I didn't see a reason to lie about it, and I was too happy to care at that moment. Beautiful!
My father harrumphed in the back seat. “I thought we were done with that.”
“Do we have to do this today?”
“We're not doing anything, honey.” My mom interjected. “But your father is right, I thought you were done with him.”
I caught her glance for a moment as I maneuvered us into the slow moving traffic. It was making me anxious to drive in such a crowd, and this conversation wasn't helping.
“He called me,” pausing and glancing at her again, “to let me know that his wife was filing for divorce.”
My mother didn't say a word, but she turned her head away from me and looked out the window. I could feel the disapproval in the air, and it made me angry. Glancing in the rearview and seeing Lucy asleep in the back seat tempered it.
We drove in silence for the next few minutes, and I fiddled with the radio to pick a station, Christmas music coming through the speakers. We finally hit the freeway and I headed us towards my parents home.
My mother changed the subject half-way in, and I was grateful for it. I knew she would speak at some point, but I had avoided the fight tonight. Hugs and kisses for Lucy, and I loaded her back up to drop off at her father's.
I was still in an elated enough mood, I couldn't even be irritated by seeing James. I felt it hit me when I had to say goodbye to Lucy though, who clearly did not want to go to her father's house. That was a battle for another day too. I kissed her goodbye, gave her a good squeeze, and reminded her she could call me before she went to bed. I felt choked up when I realized I wouldn't be putting her to bed in her own room on Christmas Day, but I tried not to think about it too much-there wasn't much I could do about it, and I knew she would have fun opening his presents that night.
James gave me a small smile that seemed to say, “thank you-I know it's hard”, and I returned it, a bit of Christmas charity.
When I got back to the car, it was 8pm, on Christmas Day, and I was alone. I pulled the cell phone back and read the message again, twice, smiling. I taped out a response.
Just got this. Merry Christmas! We went to Disney today, it was cold and very crowded. I just dropped Lucy off, and I miss her. And you.
It was a familiar message, one that I would have sent him 8 months before, a quick update on my day, and a sweet note. Halfway home, my phone on the passenger seat blinked. I waited for a redlight, and quickly read his reply.
I miss you too. Disney sounds like fun. I'm back in SC. I'm breaking the news to the family this week.
I frowned at this, knowing that it would be difficult. I typed quickly while I still had the light.
I hope that goes well for you, or as well as can be expected. It's hard. I'm thinking of you.
My phone was silent for quite a while, enough time for me to make it home, and settle in on the couch. I had turned the lights down but left the tree on, sparkling and color changing in the corner. It was nearly 10pm, and I had a bottle of German spiced wine, a joint and the laptop, ready for the night, when my phone vibrated.
I'm sorry you're alone on Christmas. If I was there, we could review the order of Santa's naughty list from last year.
I laughed out loud at this, flattered and giddy that he recalled our conversation. I remembered that time--I hadn't divorced James yet, and Stephen was still in the “one night stand” category of my life.
But, I thought to myself. Even then... it was different.
Can I call you?
I lit the joint, and took a few puffs, booting up my laptop. Ten minutes later, my phone was buzzing and I picked it up to see he was calling me. I smiled. I was glad he was calling me, and I was a little high, and slightly tipsy.
“North pole, Mrs. Claus speaking.”
“Mrs. Claus, I have an outrageous claim against your so-called husband. And this list that he is maintaining on each and every American citizen. That sounds awfully communist to me, ma'am, and I don't appreciate finding a sickle and hammer in my Christmas stocking.”
I dissolved into laughter on the couch, struck by how quickly he could shift into his character, and by how quickly he could shift out of it. Because he was laughing with me, and then saying hello.
“Merry Christmas, Stephen!”
“Merry Christmas Kathryn. How was Disney?” His voice was warm and close to me, and I shivered when I heard him. I pulled a comforter over me and snuggled down into it on the couch.
“It was good! It was so cold today, and the park was just freezing. And of course it was crowded. But we had a lot of fun. Lucy had a blast.”
And the conversation went from there, talking about our holidays with each other. He asked me my plans for New Years, and I told him-It was James' weekend with Lucy, and I planned on staying home. He told me had a party in New York he was invited to attend, and he probably would. I noticed a level of openess from Stephen that I hadn't gotten from him before. He answered as many questions as he asked, and it was after midnight by the time I thought to glance at the clock.
We talked for four hours last night, about our divorces, and how he was dealing with it, and his guilt. I heard him speak on his marriage. I spoke about mine. He described his children to me, their hobbies, and I talked about Lucy. We talked about the media storm we had found ourselves in, and he had a dozen questions for me-how did I feel with it, what happened, what about my family?
I would glance at the clock and feel that maybe, I should speak up, but I didn't. And I suspected he was doing the same thing. I finally ended up crawling into bed, plugging my dying phone in on the charger, laying curled up under the blankets and hearing his voice in my ear. Somehow, I liked that he was in South Carolina. He seemed closer to me. I told him so, and I heard his smile.
Somehow, in the middle of all of it, everything that had happened in the last four months didn't seem so bad anymore. I found myself listening to him talk about his wife.
“And then I don't know when it happened, but one day I looked around at it, and realized the marriage was gone.” I stayed silent on the line, letting him gather his words and his thoughts, just listening. The silences in this conversation were not uncomfortable ones.
“I couldn't tell you a day that it happened. But one day we were together, and the next day, we still were....but it was gone. And I didn't meet you until two years after that point.”
“So I didn't cause this.”
He paused, “Well, I'm not saying that what happened didn't contribute, but that's not you, that's me. I'd be lying if having those pictures show up didn't make things worse. In fact, I know it's what finally snapped things. But it was bad long before I met you... Money changed things more than either of us would like to admit.”
“Why didn't you want to leave her?” I asked the question that had been on my lips for months.
I heard him take a deep breath. “I never said I didn't want to, Kathryn. The last few months have been hell for me. In all of the years I've spent a comedian, you know, I never once felt like I was living a lie. But this....not this, you and I, I mean...her. And I. It felt like a lie. But I couldn't pull the trigger. Maybe that was weak or stubborn of me, but I couldn't do it. I felt trapped, but I had put myself there. I don't hate Evie. I wouldn't be where I am in my life without her. But...the marriage was gone. She saw it too, and she put us out of our misery. In a way, I'm grateful for her for doing what I couldn't bring myself to do.”
I laid in the bed, listening to his voice, low, soft and slow. A few months ago, a speech like that would strike me in the chest, but I thought his words through, and I felt them. She did them a kindness, I thought, and I told him that.
“I don't want you to ever think that I didn't want you, even when I was silent. I was so scared of hurting you again. But all I wanted was you. It's only ever been you.”
His voice came softly, and I closed my eyes when he said it. I felt the words on my lips and tongue, whispering silently to my bedroom: I love you Stephen.
His breathing was steady and nearly silent on the phone, but I could sense him there, quiet and listening to me. The air felt heavy with what went unsaid. It was a conversation we needed to have. And it was a conversation I hoped we'd never stop having. His voice was in my head when I finally went to sleep that night, whispering goodbye around three. I went to sleep smiling.
Two days later, the flowers arrived. They were beautiful. Julie brought them into me when I was in the office, setting them down the desk.
“He's good,” she said, laughing, handing me the card. It just said simply, “from Stephen” written on it.
“Tulips in December.”
“A bold choice,” she commented, and I chuckled at her. The flowers took up residence in my kitchen, and I couldn't walk by with giving them a smile. I called him that evening and thanked him for them.
“I'm glad you liked them. I feel bad I didn't get you anything for Christmas.”
We spoke everyday after that. Sometimes only for a few minutes, a quick hello or good morning, a check-in. Other days, I would look at the clock and realize two hours had gone by. I looked forward to our conversations every day. It wasn't uncommon for me check my phone and find a sweet text message, a note. It was a good week, the days passing by in the artificial warmth of my house, with friends stopping by for lunch dates, and long evenings filled with his phone calls. I was delighted to actually have a wood burning fireplace, a luxury I'd never had any of my homes before. I cracked him up when I described my fumbling attempts to light one for the first time. He'd said, “I'm going to have to take you camping then. Wilderness style.” For the first time since summer, I felt my life balancing out, and I knew having Stephen back played a big part of it.
We hadn't really discussed what was going on between us. We pushed the line more each day-suddenly pet names have slipped into the conversation, his lips murmuring “beautiful” to me before he says goodnight-but we hadn't come close to uttering what we really felt. I knew a big part of him was holding back because of the divorce. I could look far enough into the future and see potential problems-the biggest being a long distance relationship. I didn't relish the idea of one. And I truly loved my house. It was my dream home, the first piece of my life that was truly mine.
And stepkids. My mind just turned around and sat in the corner if I tried to think of his children. I wasn't nearly ready to approach that yet. My last experience stepparenting had been brutal and heart-breaking. And his kids had no reason not to hate my guts. I secretly suspected his daughter did, by a few comments he seemed oblivious to when he repeated to me, usually after an escalation with her.
These thoughts and others crossed my brain that week, but mainly it was just happiness. I finally relaxed...the depression and heartache of the fall had given way to a Christmas season that was lovely. Stephen had made a passing comment about seeing when he might be able to take a few days off-perhaps in the spring, if the divorce was final. I got the impression that me seeing him prior to that was off the table. But even that idea, a speck of seeing him again, sent the butterflies in my stomach galloping around. I missed him, and I desired him. But for the first time since it all happened, I could pick up the phone and tell him that. And hear him say it back.
On the day before New Years Eve, a knock on the door delivered the dress to me. Liz had brought it to the kitchen, where Lucy and I were doing puzzles.
“Kathryn, a box!”
She put the box on the table, and I searched for an address. The only address was a boutique from Tampa. I looked up to Liz's excited smile, and I cut the box open.
Inside was a gown. It was dark purple, and mid calf length, a dark shimmery satin inky enough it almost looked black. Spaghetti strapped, but tucked on one hip. It was a gorgeous cocktail dress.
“Holy shit.”
I immediately laughed, and clapped my hand over my mouth-Lucy looked at me, disapproval on her brow, but her eyes on the dress.
“Kathryn...” Liz venture, an excited laugh in the back of her mouth.. “Did...Stephen?”
I put the gown on the table, a shimmery pile of gossamer silk, and searched for a note or label in the box. Nothing.
Lucy rubbed her fingers on it, her eyes wide.
“Go put it on!”
I couldn't imagine Stephen buying me such a gift. A dress? Of all things?
“I don't know if I should...put it on. What if it doesn't fit?”
“Then we can get it altered. But it's too pretty not to try it on. Go put it on!”
I took the gown upstairs and put it on. It fit beautifully.
“Needless to say, I am impressed with this guy.” Liz commented, as I came down the stairs, a bright pink feather boa from Lucy's dressup box plunked around my neck.
I caught her eye and smiled wryly. “If this is from him, I'm pretty impressed too.”
“Did he say anything about giving you something else?”
“No, but we talked for hours on Christmas Day. It's probably another way of his to apologize.”
“You should let him mess up more then,” Liz replied, laughing as she fingered the gown. I took it off and hung it carefully in my closet, near the front where I could see it.
I immediately called him, taking the call out front to the porch, wrapping myself in a blanket first. He answered on the second ring.
“Well, hello there.”
“Stephen, I just got the dress. It's gorgeous. I don't even have words. Thank you.”
“Oh, that old thing? I just had it laying around...It didn't fit my hips anymore.”
I laughed at him.
“I don't have anywhere to wear it to.”
“I know, but I did think it would look beautiful on you, so I couldn't resist. If you're going to be my temporary concubine,” a phrase we had laughed up a day before and agreed felt historically accurate, “you'll just have to deal with my reckless spending. Maybe just send me a cell phone picture or something?”
I agreed to that condition, my mind jumping flirtatiously to all the possibilities in the phrase “cell phone pictures”.
We chatted a few minutes more, but he had to go. His wife was moving out that day, into a house across the city. Evelyn had apparently decided she wanted to waste no time getting out, now that the decision had been made. When I asked him how he felt about it, he simply said “It's not like I'm going to argue with her about it.” I understood what he meant.
Early in the morning, Stephen was telling me about the New Year's Eve party he was attending that night, being thrown by one of the producers for the show as a benefit in a local film festival. He mentioned guests were paying hundred's a head to attend the small party. He was excited for it, even more so he said, because Evie was not attending. I smiled when he talked about it, still a bit faintly amazed at the life he was leading-It was hard for me to wrap my mind around. I said I had no plans, since Lucy would be with me, and she wasn't a big fan of fireworks. We lived close to our downtown, and the display that evening would lead to a long night of crying. I hoped since she was older that this year might be different, but she was already starting to show alarm.
“I have to go Kathy, but I just wanted to call and say hi when I could-my day looks really busy, and I have that party tonight. I'll call you later tonight though, I can promise that.” I smiled at the thought of a midnight phone call, and said goodbye to him.
Liz and Julie were both over, the women taking a surprising like to each other. Liz wasn't much of a girl's girl, and Julie definitely was, but they bonded. Liz was going home that night to her family, and left the invitation to stand if we wanted to come over. I was seriously considering it, since her home was further away from the city display than mine was. Julie had stopped into say hello to me, and helped me finish cooking the black eyed peas for the next day.
They were sitting in the kitchen, talking to each other when I appeared after the phone call. We spent the morning in the kitchen, cooking and drinking wine. They were grilling me lightly about Stephen, and I was giving out info, mentioning the party he was attending that night.
By late afternoon, Liz had left, and Julie remained. We were sitting on the front porch, watching the people walk by towards downtown, some already dressed and headed for the local party.
“Kathy, you should put that dress on.”
“The purple one?” I looked over at her, startled. “Why? Just wear it around the house?”
“Well, why not? Get your parents to watch Lucy. You're stumbling distance from bars. Go get yourself a drink in that dress.”
Her plan had legs, but I wasn't the type to go to bars alone.
“I don't know, I am not really down with the bar scene anymore. I would look like a cougar in that crowd.”
“You'd be a hot cougar.”
“Maybe...” I commented, intending it to be the end of the conversation.
“Well, then come out with me. I'm going downtown.”
“Oh, Julie, you don't want your lame ass boss following your around. I'll creep your friends out.”
Julie sat up from the patio. “No, I have decided, you are going out with me. You cannot sit at home alone tonight while he snobs it up in a tuxedo. You'll drive yourself crazy.”
I eyed her. She was acting cute, but I could put the kibosh on this quickly. But I decided to do it-fuck, why not? I had that gorgeous cocktail dress, and I might as well go out. My parents could handle Lucy. Their neighborhood would be quiet.
I called them, and they agreed, happy to see her. I told them I would drop her off in a few hours. I felt excited. I hadn't gone out in ages. I also called Liz, and talked her into coming out with us, although it didn't take much convincing. She said she'd meet us at whatever bar we picked, and to text her when we were ready to go.
By the time we had decided on what to do, the sun was already setting and it was creeping close to 7. After I showered quickly and put the dress on, Julie helped with my makeup. I had to admit she did a good job, and the dress looked terrific. Lucy watched us dress from my bed, and I smiled at her in the mirror-remembering my own mother putting on lipstick in a vanity mirror.
I was going to run Lucy over to my parents, and meet Julie back at the house. We planned on getting a cab. She was going home in the meantime to change clothes.
My dad whistled at me when he opened their door, complimenting me on the dress. I smiled at him, and gave him a hug.
'Thanks again for watching her last minute, I appreciate it.”
“Kathy, go out and have some fun. We'll take care of you, right Lucy Goosey?” He smiled at her, and she grinned right back, already running inside to see what my mother had cooked up.
On the way home, I had texted Stephen, telling him my plans.
How is the party? Are you there yet? Julie talked me into going out. I'm wearing the dress, and it's great. I'll send you a pic.
A few moments later he buzzed back.
Pictures, plural please. Have fun. Stay safe for me. The benefit starts soon. Call you later.
I smiled in the car, already plotting the pictures I would take for him later that night. My parents lived close enough to my house, and a few turns later I was on my street, my mind running ahead to calling the cab company. The sun had had set, and the sidewalks were getting crowded, more people parking and walking into downtown, Christmas lights still light on most houses. On nearby streets, early celebrators already had fireworks out, a haze starting to settle in over the orange streetlights. It was a warmer night than recently evenings, but there was still a southern winter chill to the air. I mentally noted to find a shawl when I got home, before we left.
I didn't see the black sedan parked in the driveway until I was four houses up. I blinked in surprise and then remembered that we were ordering a cab. I parked on the street, and gathering my bag and keys, I scooted out of the car in a hurry, knowing the meter was running on the cab, and Julie was waiting for me inside.
I walked quickly past the car, noting the drive in the seat, and into the brightly lit house.
“Julie, I'm here-are you ready? The cab is out front.” I called out into the house, expecting her to come down the stairs in a moment.
“The driver will wait for us.”
I stopped dead in my tracks in the hallway, too stunned to speak, or breath.
Stephen was standing in front of me, having stepped out of the kitchen and into the doorframe, speaking slowly and smoothly. He was wearing a dark suit, one hand tucked into his pocket, the button on his jacket undone. My breath locked in my throat when I saw him, a burst of desire and shock flashing through my chest. A smile smirk played on his lips, but his eyes glittered at me, laughing.
“Stephen!”