New Place

“Hey baby!” said Katrina as she let herself into my apartment. Although our relationship had been off to a rocky start, after two months, we were great together. We saw each other every day, even if it was only for a hug and kiss. Since it was her routine, Katrina took off her heels, dropped her purse and pulled herself onto the little bar I had in my kitchen, dangling her legs over the edge.

“One of these days, you’re going to break that, and I won’t get my security deposit back.” I mused, swirling around my grape juice in a glass. I loved looking at her. Between her curvy body, beautiful face and long curly black hair, she have easily been someone else’s girlfriend. Instead, she was all mine.

“When’s your lease up?” asked Katrina, drumming her manicured nails on the bar.

“In another month.” It was a decent enough apartment, well-maintained by the super, and my neighbors never got too crazy. I planned on signing on for another year.

“Mine too.” She gave me her ‘I’m-thinking-of-something-incredibly-bad-but-I-know-you’ll-like-it’ grin. I loved it when she smiled. All of her infectious energy just seemed to radiate from her face when she smiled.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked Katrina, grinning back.

“Yeah. I want a ham sandwich.” I frowned at her in response. “Just joking, More. You’re too serious for your own good. Anyway, we should totally get an apartment together.”

I nodded solemnly. “We should. You’ve got half your blouses in my closet as it is.”

Katrina jumped down from the bar. “Well that’s because…” she said, putting her arms around me, “I don’t want to run home immediately in the morning.”

“Or the day after that.” I smiled. “I like that.”

“And I like what you do to me.” She kissed me, and I kissed her back. “We should probably get going.”

“For what?”

“Apartment hunting. That’s why I’m here so early.”

“Katrina, I hate it when you spring things on me like that. I like planning ahead of time.” I liked order, and doing things the right way every time. That was probably the reason I was an accounts manager for a law firm.

“Good things aren’t always planned on.”

“Well, give me a minute to get dressed-”

“No. Uh-uh. I’ve my work clothes on. You still have on your work clothes. We both look cute. Let’s go.” Occasionally I appreciated Katrina’s bossiness, but I didn’t that day. I took apartment hunting very seriously. I wanted to look my best. “ Don’t look at me like that. You’ve got on a brand new pantsuit, Morgan. You look like a lawyer.” She told me, loosening my collar, so she could kiss my throat, Softly touching it with her tongue. “A very sexy lawyer I could do all kinds of things to in a new apartment.”

My eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Shit, Katrina.” I breathed.

Katrina giggled as she kissed my neck teasingly before fixing my collar the way it was before. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.”

We walked out the apartment hand in hand. Suddenly, I spun her around quickly and brushed a long, stray curl from her face. “You’re going to pay for that kiss. You know that, don’t you?” Katrina blushed, and I kissed her. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, baby.” I liked surprising her. She had that effect on me, making me do crazy shit I’d never dream of doing otherwise. We got in my car. “Do you have any places in mind?” I asked Katrina.

And so began our three week long hunt for our place. Our differences in taste were obvious by the end of the first week. Katrina wanted a big apartment with lots of space and big open windows. I wanted a home that was more functional, and had a sense of character, not one of those overnight drywall structures. The problem was, there didn’t seem to be any place that had the best of everything. It was starting to put a strain on our relationship. By the third week, she was calling me stubborn and I was calling her wasteful. We stopped just short of calling each other names, but I knew it would only take one more bad day.

“Why don’t we just keep everything the way it is? Why ruin a good thing?” I asked her one night when we were lying in bed together in her apartment.

“I don’t want to give up just yet. Just one more day apartment hunting. After that, we can sign our lives away for another year.”

I groaned. “I hate arguing with you. It seems like all this looking has brought out the worst in both of us.”

“Well, we aren’t going to get along all the time, More. This is good practice for us.”

“What would we need practice for?” I hadn’t mentioned the fact that she hadn’t told me she loved me yet, at least not since our first Saturday together, but lately it had been getting on my nerves. There I was, shopping for an apartment with a woman I loved more than anyone else on the planet, and she couldn’t say she loved me? It irked me to say the least.

“Well,” she said clearing her throat, “We have been together almost three months, and since we…care about each other and don’t see any reason to break up-”

“Care about each other? Is that what you call it?” Even though I never raised my voice at her, my words had an unmistakable edge to them.

“Morgan, please don’t do this now. I just need more time.”

“More time? I’ve known you five years! We are looking for an apartment together, not as roommates, but as a couple-” I stopped myself from saying anything else. I did not like arguments, and I hated raising my voice any more than I had to. I got out of bed and started putting on my clothes, not looking at her. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a long day-”

Katrina stopped me by touching my shoulder. “No. You meant it. You meant every word. And you’re right. You deserve to hear those three words from me.” she hugged me tight, so tightly I could barely breathe. “But I can’t say them.”

“Katrina…no…” I started to cry.

“I’m giving you all I can, Morgan. If you need more-”

I turned to look at her. “Are you breaking up with me? Is that what this is?” Katrina was quiet for the third time since I met her. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. She just kept biting her full lips. I hugged her, putting my chin on her shoulder like I always did. “Oh my God.” I whispered. I knew she was there. The feel of her breasts against my own was unmistakable. But she wasn’t mine anymore. I got up and left. Katrina never said a word. I spent the rest of the night wide awake crying. What was the point of going on, I asked myself. We could never go back to being just friends. I had lost her, and there was no getting her back.

At work the next day, I was definitely distracted. I couldn’t balance the accounts to save my life, and I misplaced documents. When one of the partners of the firm saw me crying, he told me to take an early day and get myself together. I usually would have stuck it out, but I thanked him, and rushed home. I tried taking a long hot bath. I tried listening to music. I tried playing a computer game. Nothing worked. I missed my girl.

I got ready to get her back. I put on my best suit, a crème custom-made suit with matching alligator shoes and hat. Then I went down to the florist and got six yellow roses, Katrina’s favorite flowers. I waited until three o’clock rolled around, the time she left work, and I drove over to her apartment. Her car wasn’t there, so I waited in the hallway in front of her door. I wondered what she was doing. Was she seeing someone else already? I shook my head furiously.

“No. That’s impossible.” I said aloud. Then I immediately called her on my cell phone. She didn’t answer. “Shit!” I cursed. I nearly threw it. A woman walking hand in hand with a little boy gave me a look. “Sorry!” I said, a little mortified.

“It’s bad enough you’re cross dressing. Do you have to curse too?” she told me.

“Mommy, what’s cross dressing?” asked the little boy innocently. The woman groaned.

“Damn lesbians.” I heard her mutter as they moved further down the hallway out of earshot.

Usually comments or stares from random strangers didn’t bother me, but it was already a bad day. After waiting two more hours, I called Katrina again. She didn’t answer for the second time. I desperately left her a message. “Baby, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you to say what you can’t say. Just tell me what I can do to fix this. I’ll choose whatever apartment you want. I’m miserable without you, Trina. Just come by your apartment. Please. I need to see you.” Someone touched my shoulder.

It was Katrina, who had her cheeks with mascara-tears. “I guess I’m not Petra anymore, am I?”
We hugged and kissed each other in relief. “I couldn’t answer my phone earlier. There was a sick stenographer, and I had to fill in. So-” she started to sob, and I hugged and kissed her.

The woman walked by with the little boy again. The little boy stared. “Honestly! Can’t you people do that kind of thing in a hotel room?” said the woman in exasperation.

Me and Katrina looked at each other and spontaneously erupted in laughter. “Lesbians. Making people uncomfortable since 325 A.D. !” howled Katrina.

“What’s a lesbians?” asked the little boy. The woman rushed off with the little boy, but not before mouthing ‘damn you to hell’ at both of us. We ignored her.

“I missed you so much.” I told Katrina, starting to cry myself.

“More. We are not breaking up. I know I haven’t been able to say I lo-”

I put my hand over her mouth. “I really put your back against the wall last night.” Katrina blushed, remembering. “Not that! When I lost my mind and gave you an ultimatum. Take all the time you need to say it and mean it. I’ll just have to be more patient. I’m willing to wait.”

“Are these for me?” asked Katrina pointing at the bouquet.

I had forgotten about the flowers. “Well, they aren’t for the woman who just walked by.” I grinned. “Do you like them?”

“Of course I do. Let’s put them in water and get out of here.”

“So you want to go back to my place?” I asked with a wicked grin.

Katrina looked away. “Not exactly.”

We took care of the flowers, and then got in her car. “So…where too?”

“It’s a surprise.” We got into her car and started driving downtown next to the waterfront. Up ahead there was an accident on the old Wrought Bridge. “Shit.” cursed Katrina. She turned her car around and started heading through the downtown commercial district.

“Were we supposed to be going that way?”

“Yeah, but I know another way. Everything’s still cool.” Her voice didn’t exactly sound confidant enough for me to believe her.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“You’ll see when we get there, More.”

I stared at her, but didn’t say anything else. I didn’t want to distract her from driving. She drove around the large downtown skyscrapers for at least thirty minutes before I said anything. “Maybe you should ask for directions. Do you know where we are?”

Katrina grimaced at an abandoned car decorated with graffiti. “Not really. But I don’t feel comfortable asking for directions.”

“Can we try to go back the way we came and try to get to the waterfront again?” I quickly saw the problem with that. Every street was a one way, so she couldn‘t turn around. We were hopelessly lost.

Suddenly, the car made a clunking noise and stopped. “Shit!” cursed Katrina. “What did I run over?”

“Nothing. There was nothing in the road.”

Katrina got out to look behind and in front of the car. “I don’t see anything I could have hit.” She got back in the car. “I’ll try to start it up again.” Katrina cranked the engine, and it started up, then cut off. “Hold up.” she said, trying again. It started and stopped again. “Shit!” Katrina popped her hood, and we both got out for a look. It was obvious what was wrong. The last mechanic who had worked on Katrina’s car had left a wrench under the hood, and it had gotten caught between the engine belt, and the belt tensioner. “Damn! My shit got jammed! I’m gonna try to take it out.” When she tried, she found it was stuck fast. “I don’t want to risk breaking the belt. I better call AAA for a tow.” When she tried using her cell phone, she realized she didn’t have any service. The same was true for my phone.

I tapped my chin with my useless phone. “We’re going to have to look for a pay phone.”

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a pay phone.” grumbled Katrina, leaning against the car.

“Well, do you have any other great ideas, oh great and powerful Oz?”

“That’s not funny.” she said, trying her phone again. There was no signal. “Shit! Can I sue those mechanics for this shit?”

“How good’s your camera phone?”

“Pretty damn good. I can take high definition pictures with it.”

“Take several pictures of the wrench from all angles. And zoom in on the ‘Mike’s Auto’ engraving on the side.” Katrina followed my instructions. “Now you can sue.”

“You’d think there’d be service all across the downtown area.”

“This area looks pretty much abandoned. Nothing but old warehouses and factories.” I said. Not one of them had any lights illuminating them, except for the flickering streetlights. “I think we should walk and try to find our way to the waterfront. It can’t be to far from here. Maybe we can still go wherever it was you were taking me.”

Katrina sighed. “I think that’s out of the question for now.”

“So tell me where we were going, since we aren’t going.”

Katrina closed her eyes. “I was…going to take you to look at another apartment.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Katrina, I can’t believe you.”

“I just don’t want to give up so easily. I just have this feeling that we’ll find it.”

“Unbelievable. After all we’ve gone through in the past twenty-four hours, you still want to keep this up?”

“Why are you giving up so easily? When people go house hunting sometimes it takes several months!”

“I have to sign my lease in three days, or else they’re giving my apartment to someone else. When we get back, I’m calling up the apartment manager first thing and signing a new lease.”

“You’re giving up. Just like that?”

“Well, yeah! What do you expect me to do? I have to sleep somewhere. And I’ve grown attached to my furniture and clothes. So yeah, I’m giving up.” I saw a light go on in one of the warehouses. “Someone’s in there.”

“I hope they have a phone.”

“I hope they let us in.”

“I’m sure they will. Let’s find out.” We walked up to the door and were surprised to see it had a heavy, lion shaped knocker. Katrina used the knocker. “Do you think someone lives here?” I shrugged.

After waiting a minute or two, the door opened. It was a man in his mid-thirties. He had a pale, sallow complexion, small nervous eyes, a large nose, and long black hair. “Hello.” he said. “Are you two here about the ad?”

Katrina looked at me. “What ad?”

The man flipped a switch and illuminated another window. In the window was a for sale sign. “I’m selling this property. Do you want to come in?”

“We’d love to.” we both stepped in, and were surprised. What appeared to be a warehouse on the outside, was actually a spacious home. There were several pictures on the walls and on easels covered with white sheets throughout the parlor and living room. There didn’t seem to be one particular style to the house. The living room had neo-classical moldings colored in pastel blue, yellow, and red. But the kitchen was completely different, ultra modern in stainless steel and black.

“This property is an inheritance from my late Great Uncle. He didn’t have any kids, and I was his next of kin, so this is all mine. All 2,000 unsellable square feet of it.” he seemed dejected. “Would you like something to drink? I’m afraid all I have is a little scotch.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” I replied. We followed him into the kitchen which had a sturdy, spacious bar, big enough for Katrina to lie on if she wanted to. I suppressed a grin at that thought. “So, why can’t you sell?” I asked, taking a sip of scotch.

“This place looks like a warehouse on the outside. And no one wants to put a hundred grand into fixing it up on the outside when there are no other homes around.”

“Why did your uncle buy this place?”

“He was an artist. He wanted an out of the way place where he could paint without any distractions. I’ll show you.” The man walked us through the kitchen towards a black metal spiral staircase. “His studio is up here. Well, one of his studios. Throughout the year, he’d work in different areas of the building., catching different points of light. This was his favorite one, though.” We took the staircase up, and were nearly blinded by the sudden colors. “Sorry!” he apologized, going to the windows and pulling down shades. “I forgot I left them up.”

“Are those windows stained glass?” asked Katrina.

“Yes. He made them all by himself. The furnace he made them on is behind the house.”

“What was your uncle’s name? Maybe I’ve heard of him.” I offered. Surely someone who was talented enough to design, work glass, and paint was well known in the city.

The man shook his head. “I’m sure you haven’t. He was never able to sell any of his pieces to any American dealer or collector, and he only sold a handful of pieces in Europe during the eighties. His name was M.C. Wilder.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. He put so much work into this house. He must have really loved his art. Would you mind showing us an example?” asked Katrina.

“Sure.” He uncovered an easel. The painting he showed was of a Spanish conquistador on a rowboat, spearing a harmless manatee. There were several different painting styles in that one painting. The manatee had been painted with oil, making it look so real, I wanted to touch it. The water was painted with watercolors. The boat and the Spanish conquistador had been painted with purposely antiqued tempera paint. “He called it ‘The Monster’.”

“That’s it? Just ‘The Monster’? There seems to be a lot more going on than that.” noted Katrina.

The man nodded. “I think it’s a question everyone is supposed to ask themselves when they see it. Who is the true monster? The manatee, or the Spaniard? Many of my uncle’s paintings are named like that. Just statements to start a conversation.”

“Or a debate.” I added. “When did he paint this?”

“It’s dated nineteen fifty-six. He made all of his paintings between the late 40’s and early 80’s.”

“He painted for nearly forty years? Wow. How many did he paint?”

“Most of his paintings are still here. And I have a few at my house. Counting the six he sold in Switzerland, I’d say about a hundred and ten or so.”

I whistled. “If he was this good at the beginning of his career, he must have been excellent towards the end.”

The man grinned. “He sure was. I’ll show you the rest.” He took us through the whole house, showing us his uncle’s various portraits, nature scenes, and other paintings that didn’t fit into any category, but seemed to be very politically charged. Every painting used at least two kinds of paint and art styles. And they all definitely made a statement. Like his artwork, M.C. Wilder had painted and designed each room of the house in all kinds of styles. The four bedrooms were Neo-classical, Greek revival, Egyptian, and Persian. The three bathrooms were more modern, but definitely came from different times. There were all circa 1955, 1977, and 1985. The 1955 bathroom was decorated in an art deco style typical of it’s time. The 1977 bathroom was an avocado green. The 1985 bathroom was also typical of it’s time, with it’s peach/salmon color scheme, and movie-star lights around the mirror. The two other work studios were simply unadorned blank white rooms.

“This place is really something.” said Katrina. “I feel like I went through a time machine.”

The man sighed. “So you don’t like it?”

“I like it. It’s not any one thing. If I was looking to buy a place, this would be it.”

“Why aren’t we looking to buy a place?”

My head whipped around to Katrina’s direction. “We were looking for an apartment. Not a house. I bet this place is worth at least half a million dollars, anyway.”

“I’m selling it for a hundred and fifty thousand.” said the man.

Me and Katrina just stared at him. “A hundred and fifty thousand? In the heart of downtown?” I asked, making sure I heard him right.

The man nodded. “Paintings and furnishings included. That’s the only stipulation.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but are you crazy? The paintings alone have got to be worth ten thousand a pop! And the interior is amazing! It looks like an ancient designer from each time period did the work themselves!” said Katrina, her big brown eyes wider than usual.

The man smiled sadly. “I used to think that. But no one wants the paintings since my uncle isn’t famous. And between the one way streets and disintegrating surroundings, no one wants to drive all the way out here to check it out. Not to mention the few people who have looked at the place are very put off by the contrasting styles in here. I’ve actually been thinking about donating it to the city. I don’t live here, and I can’t afford to keep going back and forth between my husband and this house every weekend.”

Me and Katrina both blinked. “You’re married?”

“It’ll be six months in another week. If we make it that long. I’m sorry. I thought the two of you were-”

“Actually, we are a couple, but we’ve never met anyone gay who’s been married.” I said. I felt kind of weird that I never suspected he was, but then again, someone’s sexuality didn’t usually cross my mind.

“Hopefully that will all change someday.” he said hopefully. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Thom Wilder.”

I shook his hand. “Morgan Richards.”

“I’m Katrina Browne.” Katrina ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh my God!”

“Your car! Thom can we borrow your phone? That’s the reason we’re down here. Katrina got lost and her car got stalled.”

Thom’s expression looked dejected again. “I should have known. Here’s my cell.”

Katrina grunted in frustration when she saw Thom’s cell had no bars. “That’s just great.”

“Weird. My phone usually works great around here. Must be the network. It’s too bad I don’t have a landline.”

“Could we persuade you to drive us to a gas station?”

Thom shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a car in the city. I usually hoof it a mile and a half to a bus stop. I wouldn’t recommend you walk there now, of course.” By then, it was already well past nine o’clock, and no one in their right minds would walk around in an abandoned neighborhood at night in the city.

“What are we going to do, More?” Katrina asked me.

“I could put you two up for the night and walk to the bus stop in the morning.” offered Thom. “The Neo-Classical room is decent enough.”

“Thank you.” I told him. We took him up on his offer, chatting over more scotch until we mutually decided to call it a night.

“What do you think about this place?” Katrina asked me, once we were in bed.

“I really like it. It’s big, but the way everything is separated…it’s not really intimidating, you know?”

“It’s colorful, but not cheesy. I like that. I don’t think we’ll find another place like it in a million years.”

“You want to buy it.” I didn’t look at her.

“Yes. I do.” I could feel her staring at me. “You don’t?”

“I do, but I don’t want to be stuck in an empty house in the middle of nowhere.”

“Empty house? I’d be here too, you know!”

“Look, Katrina. Renting an apartment is one thing. But owning property together is totally different. If things don’t work out between us-”

“They will.” Katrina promised, taking my hand.

I sighed. “We’re at a crossroads as it is, Katrina. I can’t take this kind of risk.”

“You won’t even think about it?”

I looked at Katrina. How much was she expecting me to give, when she couldn’t even tell me she loved me? “I just want us to go back to being happy. The way things used to be.”

“But I’ve been miserable without you. I want us to live together. If I have to go to sleep in an empty bed for one more night…baby, I don’t think I can take it.”

I felt the same way, but I didn’t know if I believed her. If she felt that strongly about me, why couldn’t she say it? Why couldn’t she say she loved me? “It’s not that bad.” I lied. “I mean we don’t live that far away from each other.”

“It’s a twenty minute drive, every time. I just can’t stand it anymore, I-” She closed her eyes, not finishing her sentence.

“Let’s not jump the gun on this. Just get some sleep right now, okay?”

Katrina held me close. I wanted to give in right then, she felt so good. But I knew I couldn’t. “Okay.” she muttered into my shoulder. I looked up at the gold-enameled ceiling depicting various Roman and Greek legendary figures. What caught my attention was the detail of Cupid and Psyche. They were laying on a bier in the exact position me and Katrina were in then. It made me a uncomfortable, so I turned away from it and went to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, the whole room was filled with pale red light. “The fuck?” I said, covering my eyes. When my eyes adjusted, I could see the bright light was shining on the wall in front of me. The light was in the shape of two letters, M and K side by side. The effect was being made by two panes of glass in an un-shuttered window. I didn’t know what to make of it. I wasn’t the type of person who believed in signs from above. I quickly shuttered the stained glass window and woke Katrina.

After Thom walked with us to the bus stop, Katrina tried to convince me to think about buying the house. “It’s a steal, More. You can’t even buy a condo in the city for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“No. I’m not going to do it.”

“Morgan, please. We’ve looked all over the city.”

“Well, you’ve said it yourself. We just need more time to find a place that’s right for us.”

“This place is right for us! Morgan, I thought you’d be happy.”

“Houses are for people that are in a committed relationship.”

“We are committed. How can we be any more committed than we are now?”

I shook my head. “You want to buy a house with me, but you can’t tell me you love me. You haven’t even come out to your parents yet, Katrina.”

Katrina inhaled and bit her lip. “I just need more-”

“Time. Yeah, I know. Take all the time you need, but I’m not going to rush into buying a house with you if you don’t want to rush loving me.”

Katrina closed her eyes. “Well, you’ve never been one to bite your tongue, have you baby? I could mention that you haven’t even told your mother about me.”

“If I tell my mom, everyone in my family will know.”

“So what?”

“So? I’ve got only a thousand relatives who will be over my house every day to check you out. I want everyone to know at the same time, probably at a big family get together like Thanksgiving. Besides, I did tell my brother Colby. He can keep his mouth shut until I tell him open it.

“So I’m your little secret?”

“Don’t try to turn this around on me, Katrina. All of our friends know. But does it really matter what anyone else thinks? There are only two opinions that matter in this relationship, and I can’t even get that out of you.”

Katrina balled up her fists and stamped her feet. “Damn it, Morgan! This kills me!”

“You don’t think it kills me to want to spend every minute of my life with you, not knowing if you love me? Let me tell you something. That hurts. It makes me feel like I’m just your accessory. Your little fun lesbian experiment-”

“That’s not true! You know it isn’t!”

“Really? How do I know that?” The bus pulled up before we could cause anymore damage to each other. I hurriedly got on and hung on to a pole since the bus was already packed with commuters. Katrina grabbed the same pole. “If I mean anything to you, you have to tell me.”

“You already know. You know how I make you feel-”

I pressed the brim of my hat against her lips lightly. “Stop it. If you don’t have enough love for me as a girlfriend, then you should have enough love for me as a friend to tell me the truth.” I don’t know why, but I started singing an old Brandy song, ‘Almost Doesn’t Count’. I didn’t like singing in front of other people, and the truth was, I had only let Katrina hear me sing twice since I had known her. Singing that song at that moment put all my feelings out the open. It hurt like hell. People were clapping for me while my heart was breaking. I could feel tears running down my face, but I didn’t try to stop them or cover them up. I just sang, sang like I was singing for my life. And I was, pretty much.

Soon, the bus stopped in a place I recognized downtown, next to a historic church. I moved to get off, but Katrina grabbed my hand. “Wait for me. There’s another stop ahead.”

“I can’t.” I told her, getting off the bus, and putting my hat back on. She looked utterly lost as the bus pulled away. I stood on the corner for several minutes before calling a cab on my cell phone. Once the cab picked me up, I kept staring out of the window, trying not to call Katrina. When I got home, I took a quick shower and got dressed for work. I went to work and did my job perfectly, even though I felt half-dead. After work, I hit the bar in time for happy hour, and I drank until the bartender wouldn’t fill my glass anymore. I tried to drive home, but someone called me a cab.

I drank more once I got home. I drank until the alcohol tasted like water. And just before I thought I was completely out, sprawled on my back in my kitchen, I saw Katrina standing over me. I didn’t think she was real. Why would she be there? I figured I was seeing things.

Her face went in and out of focus. “Morgan? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you loud and clear, baby.” I said in a velveteen voice that I never possessed sober.

“How much did you drink?”

“A little rum, a little Southern Comfort, a little Jim Beam…oh and all my amaretto and Jagermeister.”

“Shit, Morgan.”

“Shit is right, Katrina. I still feel like shit right now, and you’re not really here.” I laughed harshly. “Why don’t you lay down here and look up at the ceiling and pretend that we’re looking at the sunflowers under the bridge, not-real-Katrina?”

“You’re not funny!”

“Of course it’s not funny. That’s the first time the real Katrina broke my heart. But she wouldn’t give it back either. She just wanted to hold onto it and wring it like a fucking handkerchief.” I said harshly before letting the teasing tone return to my voice. “But that’s okay. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I know you’re not her.”

“I’m going to help you into bed, alright sweetie?” I could barely see her.

“Okay. You’re really nice. Just like Katrina used to be.” It had to be imagination, but I felt two limber arms haul me up and assist me in walking to my bedroom. It felt exactly like Katrina, but I knew better. Katrina didn’t love me, and she wouldn‘t have been there helping me. I plopped down on my bed and fell backwards onto my back. “Thank you imaginary Katrina.” I said politely.

“You don’t think I’m real?” asked the false Katrina, laying next to me.

“Why would you be? Katrina’s gone.”

“How many fingers and toes do you have?”

“I have five fingers and five toes. Wait, that’s not right. That’s half as much as I had this morning.”

My imaginary Katrina rolled her eyes. “Can I tell you a bedtime story?”

“I haven’t heard a bedtime story in ages! Tell me one! Tell me a good one!”

“Well, once upon a time, there was a girl who was a tennis player. She was a quiet, shy girl, who kept to herself. She wasn’t even very good at tennis. She just needed a sport to make her look like a well-rounded prospect to colleges. Anyway, while she was on the tennis team, she started looking at this other girl. This other girl with eyes like clouded ice, and hair like brilliant wheat. The shy girl didn’t know why she kept looking at the other girl, she just knew she liked to look.”

I giggled. “Lesbian!” I said with glee.

“She didn’t know it at the time. The other girl noticed the shy girl was staring at her, and she liked it. One day when they were in the locker room, no one else was around. They made out, and the shy girl got her first kiss.”

“Woo! Sexy, sexy!” I catcalled. “What happened next?”

“Well, they started meeting each other in out of the way places. Woods, un kept parks, places where most people wouldn’t go. They screwed each other in places like that.” Was there some longing I saw in this Katrina’s eyes? Didn’t matter, I thought, she wasn’t real. “Of course, they couldn’t be together in public. It wasn’t something a good girl did. Falling in love with another girl.”

“The shy girl loved the other girl?”

“Yes. She even told the other girl she loved her, but the other girl just laughed. Then one day, the other girl got a boyfriend and told the shy girl it had all been a phase. That the shy girl should get a boyfriend too. And that’s what the shy girl did. She had several boyfriends, but she never loved any of them. The only one she loved was the girl from her tennis team. Years later, when the girl was a woman, she fell in love with her best friend, but she was afraid. Afraid her friend would laugh and walk away. So she said nothing, and her love walked away anyway.”

“I didn’t like that story.” I yawned. “The shy girl should have gotten a happy ending like everyone else gets in fairy tales.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure! I like secrets!”

“Katrina loves you.”

I giggled. “No she doesn’t. But thank you for trying make me feel better, imaginary Katrina.”

My imaginary Katrina sighed. “You’re too shit faced right now for your own good, but I guess that’s a good thing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you.” She bent down over me and kissed me. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“You’re in my imagination. I can see you whenever I want. Duh! You’re so silly.”

“Get some rest, okay? Can I hold you until you fall asleep?”

“For sure.” When I felt her arms around me, I almost thought she was real. Almost. “That feels good. Just like the real Katrina…”

I came to in the morning with a splitting headache. “Son of a bitch!” I moaned. Lucky for me it was a Saturday, and I didn’t have work. It was already eleven in the morning. I stumbled into my bathroom for some Advil. After downing a few capsules, I got some instant coffee that I hadn’t touched in four or five months, and made myself a cup. I was halfway through the coffee when I remembered my conversation with “imaginary” Katrina. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She wouldn’t have been back here.”

I changed my clothing, got my car from the bar, and raced over to Katrina’s house. I knocked on her door. “Katrina? It’s Morgan. Please open your door.”

“Are you sober?”

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Of course I’m sober, sweetie. Why wouldn’t I be? Are you going to let me in?”

Katrina opened her door a crack. “What did you come down here for?”

“Well, I can’t tell you on your doorstep. You have to let me in.”

Katrina reluctantly moved away from her doorway. “What’s this about, Morgan?”

“No fair telling me you love me when I’m drunk.”

Katrina eyes went wide. “Shit. You remember. But you couldn’t even tell how many fingers and toes you had.”

I shrugged. “I always thinks the number five is the number ten when I wasted. Don’t ask me why.”
“How much do you remember?”

“I remember hearing a story about a certain tennis player who’s only ever loved two women. But I never got her name.”

“You know who I meant.”

“I need you to tell me. Trina, I’m never gonna going to laugh at you. I’m never going to walk away from you.” I kissed her hands. “Tell me, please.”

I saw little crystal tears start to creep from the corners of Katrina’s eyes. “I couldn’t tell anyone about what happened between me and Mary. And it was the most horrible thing to have her laugh at me. I would have given anything to just to hold her hand at lunch, or God forbid, kiss her. And then when I saw her with someone else, and she told me to find a guy like sex was some fun thing you did with whoever, it hurt like nothing else. Not even the broken arm I got back in third grade topped that pain.”

“So all this time, you’ve just been afraid.”

“I just wanted to be positive. One hundred percent sure that you weren’t going to leave me. No matter what. But you left anyway.”

“I knew you loved me. I just had to make sure you knew you did.”

Katrina kissed me. “I love you.”

I hugged her tight, just in case she never said it again. “I love you.”

A loud knock on the door interrupted our moment. “Shit!” Katrina jumped. Katrina opened the door. “Yes?”

It was her apartment manager, a short energetic woman who always cut to the chase because there was always something else she had to do. “Katrina! Hi! Did you know you have to sign a new lease by Tuesday?”

Katrina wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, but I’ve had a lot of things on my mind-”

The manager looked at her watch impatiently. “I’ll tell you what. I have an appointment that I’m already late for, and I can see I’ve come at a bad time, so why don’t you come by the office Monday and we’ll take care of all the paperwork then, okay?” The woman rushed off without another word.

Katrina looked at me. “What am I going to do? She’s nice, but when if I don’t have an answer for her, I’ll be evicted.”

I put my hands on her shoulder. “Well, I know of a particular house downtown that’s being sold for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, complete with furniture, and a few art pieces I’ve grown attached to.”

“Oh my God! You want to buy it!” She hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe. “This is what I’ve always wanted, Morgan. Morgan I am so happy!”

“I’m happy too, baby, but I can’t feel my ribs!”

“Sorry. It’s just-” she kissed me. “I’m so glad that I could tell you how I-” she kissed me again. “Really.” Kiss. “Really.” Kiss. “Feel.”

I knew if I didn’t stop her, we’d end up screwing for the rest of the afternoon. Making up could wait. We had a house to buy, and two apartments to clean out. I pulled away from Katrina. “We can’t do that now.”

“Why not?”

“The house. Our apartments.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got Thom’s number. We should give him a call.”

We called Thom, and following his instructions, stopped by the house to check it out again. This time, I called a plumber and an electrician to check out the place, and everything seemed sound, except for a faucet in one of the bathrooms which needed to be replaced. Altogether, the place was structurally sound. After that, we had still had to wait until Monday for the bank to process our loan. In the mean time, we spent Sunday packing up our two apartments. We both managed to fend off our apartment managers long enough for us to close on the house on Tuesday. Then we took Wednesday off of work to move all our stuff into the apartment.

“I don’t know about you Trina, but I am exhausted. Between paperwork, filing taxes with the city, driving a U-Haul back in forth, I‘m just ready to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.” I told Katrina as we lay in the Neo-Classical room again after all our boxes of stuff and furniture were in the house. It was only late afternoon, but I was worn out.

“Not to mention moving furniture. Rearranging furniture. And throwing out furniture.”

“I really liked that armchair from my old place.”

“And I really liked my sofa, but there was just no space.”

“A small price to pay for being with my girl.” I grinned lazily. Katrina leaned over me for a kiss, locking our hands together.

“I love you.” She said, looking into my eyes. She still seemed a little scared when she said it, but I stroked her hair in reassurance.

“Hearing you say that is better than sex.” I told her, twirling her curls around my finger.

“Really? Then I guess I haven’t been doing my job.” She took the kiss deeper, sliding her hands under my bra to release my breasts. She slid off my shirt roughly, running her hands down my stomach, kissing it as she went. She raised her head only to kiss me occasionally.

“Enough teasing.” I told her, pushing her off so I could slide off my jeans. “I want to see you.” She obliged, discarding her clothing like a wet suit. As she leaned back into me, I ran my hands down her sides, relishing her curves. “I’m going to eat you all up.” I whispered in her ear, kissing her neck softly. I spread her thighs, giving her a hungry look before burying my face in her pussy.

“Mmm.” she moaned as I dipped my tongue into her pussy, tasting her. Her fingers gripped my head in anticipation of what I was about to give her. I dived into her again and again, making her cry out my name and tremble, grinding her hips against my face in waves. “Fuck, Morgan!” She said finally, bathing my face in her juices. I laughed as Katrina nearly hyperventilated on her back trying to recover from her orgasm.

“I bet you never came like that before.” I teased, licking her nipple with my tongue.

“Just wait until I can move again, and I’ll return the favor.” She promised, taking deep breaths. “Shit, you know how to work that tongue!” After a minute, Katrina was up and kissing me again. It didn’t take her long to move down to my inner thighs and start kissing me there. Her lips alone made me weak. “Remember the first time I kissed you here?” She asked before deliberately swirling her tongue next to my pussy.

“Uh…yeah.” my words came out as a moan. I closed my eyes and arched my back relishing her touch.

“Remember the honey?” She asked. I felt something warm and heavy drip onto my pussy. “I always wanted to taste it on you again.” I felt her eat the honey out of my pussy, taking her time.

I shuddered pleasurably once I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm hit. “I can’t…stand it!”

“Then cum for me baby.” I heard her say. “Cum hard.” I did exactly as I was told, making noises I thought only animals were capable of. When I was finished, Katrina crawled into my arms, as satisfied as I was. “I love you.” she told me as I closed my eyes.

“Yup.” I said, with one eyes open and a devilish grin. “Hearing that is still better than sex.”