Providence (The Velvet Series Book 2) Page 8

  “Yeah, actually, I do feel a little better.”

  “If you want to come to a training session with me on Thursday night you are welcome to. It can be intense and kick your butt, but it’s great stress relief.”

  “I can’t this Thursday, maybe the following week though?”

  “Sure, but it’ll have to be in three weeks.” I must have shown a small measure of disappointment at her answer, even if I didn't intend to.

  “Jill’s memorial service is Thursday. Why three weeks?” Sadness takes over her features. I feel like an ass for not even thinking about the fact that there would be a service and Katrina hadn’t told me the date yet.

  “I’m part of a mission trip to Ghana. We leave a week from Saturday and we’ll be gone two weeks.” With everything that’s been going on, the trip is quickly sneaking up on me.

  “I hadn’t pegged you as being religious.” I nearly laugh out loud but manage to contain myself at the last second.

  “I’m not, at all. The trip is to provide surgical services to those who would otherwise not have access to them. We’ll operate for roughly 12 hours a day, each day we’re there. I’ll be there primarily to take care of the cleft lips, cleft palates, and such. I’ll also help out with breast cases as needed.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re some kind of saint.” I can’t tell if she is being serious or sarcastic. “Seriously, you’ve taken care of me, you travel around the world and provide free services to those who need them. What else do you do?” This time I do laugh.

  “I assure you, I’m no saint.” My stomach grumbles, so I check the clock to discover it is almost 6. “You hungry?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “I made some Chicken Salad yesterday. I have lettuce you can put it over, or you could make a sandwich with it. Sound ok?”

  “Sounds great actually.” We eat dinner and discuss a variety of topics. Katrina asks more questions about the mission trip, our most embarrassing moments, things that very few people know about us, and views on religion and politics. By the time Katrina leaves it’s nearly 9. I head to the master suite and get ready for bed. I melt into my bed and am fast asleep before I can open my book.

  Chapter 7

  Thursday afternoon Catherine and Alex meet Abby and me outside of the funeral home. We enter the parlor to find it packed. I scan the faces in the room looking for Katrina. Several faces look familiar, former and current patients. It makes me realize how closely knit the community is here, and how I have largely failed to become a part of it. I locate Katrina near the front of the parlor, surrounded by people who are likely expressing their condolences. To my surprise, she looks as if she’s holding up fairly well. Aside from a few brief text messages, I haven’t spoken with her since she left my house Monday evening. A few people greet us as they pass by, and for some reason, I’m surprised to see how many know Catherine. The appointed hour arrives, and the hushed din that previously consumed the room abates as Katrina and Jill’s friends find their seats. We maintain our place at the back, not really feeling like we belong here, yet wanting to show Katrina support.

  The service is non-denominational and brief. One of their friends reads a letter written by Jill, reminding everyone to live their lives to the fullest, act in ways that make a positive change, and to love one another like it’s their last day. She also asks her friends and loved ones not to spend their time grieving for her, that she lived a life that made her happy, tried to help those in need and could move on without any regrets. I realize as I listen to the reading that Jill must have prepared this when she was diagnosed with cancer. I hear Abby sniffle on my right and look over to see Catherine and Alex leaning on each other on my left. Another friend reads a eulogy that she prepared, her words turning to a muffled drone as I scan the room. Katrina swipes at the tears trying to roll down her cheeks. I admire the strength she possesses to not break down completely. People suddenly begin to stand, breaking me out of my reflections. The service is at an end. I see people queue up near the closed casket to pay their final respects and speak with Katrina. I cannot fathom how exhausting this must be for her, yet she stands there, hugging each person as they convey words that I’m certain do nothing to fill the emptiness she must feel. I remember my mother’s service, this same line, the pitying looks, the hushed whispers about my being so young, being forced to stand there listening to each person’s condolences as they hugged me and assured me that everything would be ok, that they were sorry. I don’t recall how it made me feel then, but thinking about it now leaves me feeling irritated. Katrina eyes the four of us and breaks with tradition, excusing herself from the people waiting to speak with her. She disappears into the mass of people waiting to pay their respects before breaking through and joining us in the back.

  “Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” She hugs Catherine and Alex before allowing herself to be enveloped by Abby. I see her face tighten a little as Abby whispers something to her. She breaks free from Abby and turns her attention to me, pulling me in for a hug. “Please get me out of here. I can’t listen to one more person tell me they’re sorry,” she whispers as she locks her arms around me.

  “Ok, but don’t you want to say goodbye?”

  “The casket is empty. She had arranged for her ashes to be repurposed into one of those coral reef things.”

  “Ok. Anything we need to grab before we leave?”

  “No.” I look around the room at the people still milling about. I have no idea where Katrina wants us to take her, but I know if we don’t get her out of here soon, people will flock to her back here, effectively blocking any chance of an exit.

  “Alright, come on.” I make my way towards the exit, hoping Catherine, Alex and Abby follow suit. I push my way out the door and quickly head around the corner, near the side street where we parked. I’m happy to see that our entire party is in tow.

  “What was that?” Catherine eyes me, questioning our rushed exit. I shake my head at her, and she allows the matter to rest. “Ok, anyone feel like getting a drink then?”

  “Yes,” Katrina is quick to answer the offer. “Somewhere that people won’t think to look for me.” We all look at each other; as if we can communicate and deliberate silently.

  “The brewery?” I make the suggestion knowing we need to get out of here if we’re going to escape without being spotted. Catherine and Alex exchange a look, then look at me. Alex shrugs and Catherine nods. Brewery it is. “Meet you over there?” Everyone agrees, and we head towards our cars.

  “Can you drop me to pick up my car before we get to the brewery? I don’t think I’ll be able to stay as late as you guys will.” Abby’s request will take us a few miles out of the way, but isn’t an issue. We make the drive back to the office in silence. Abby has never really been able to tolerate silence, so she attempts to make small talk. I’ve never been a fan of small talk and Katrina is clearly not in the mood for it, so Abby’s attempts fall on deaf ears. Abby starts her car and heads out of the parking lot towards the brewery. I should follow but leave the car in park as I look over at Katrina.

  “You ok?” She doesn’t answer me for at least half a minute. I give up and move to put the car in drive when she finally speaks.

  “I’m trying, I really am. It’s just this anger, I can’t get rid of it. Then at the funeral home, everyone telling me they’re sorry, that she loved me, going on and on. The more people said those things to me, the angrier I could feel myself getting. If I didn’t get out of there I was going to blow a gasket, just start screaming, throw something…I don’t know. I’m trying, trying to stay calm, but it gets harder every day.” Katrina draws a deep breath in through her nose and releases it out her mouth. She repeats this as I pull my phone out and send Catherine a quick message that we will be another 5 to 10 minutes, to start without us. I put the car in drive and pull out of the lot, heading towards the woods a mile down the road. I park on the shoulder and shut off the engine.

  “What are we doing h
ere?”

  “Come on.” I open my door and get out of the car, but Katrina just eyes me like I’m crazy. “Trust me.” She relents and exits the car, following my lead. I guide her into the trees just far enough that I can barely see the outline of my car along the roadside. “You want to scream? Scream!” Katrina gives me a look like she officially knows I’ve lost my mind but says nothing. “Scream damn it! Let it out!” I’m yelling at her, trying to get her to just let it go. She finally does, screaming as loud as she possibly can. As she repeats it, I look around and find a smaller fallen tree branch. It is fairly lightweight, but seems sturdy enough. She looks at me as I hand it to her. “Want to hit something? Go to town.” This time she doesn’t hesitate. She starts swinging the branch at a nearby tree, screaming in frustration with each connection. When the branch finally snaps she looks at me like a kid that has broken a new toy. “Throw it!” She does, and we both watch as the branch sails end over end before connecting with another tree, causing it to drop lifelessly to the ground. I look around and find a small rock. I pick it up and give it to her. She needs no direction, this time hurling it out into the thicket of trees before us. I kick aside some fallen pine needles and find a few pinecones, not ideal but she can throw them. I hand them to her one at a time, and she hurls them as far as she can. “Better?” She draws in successive breaths, but nods that she is. “Ok, let’s go then.” We get back in the car, and I head to the brewery. “I’m going to put you in touch with my trainer, see if he can’t give you my time slot while I’m away, or get you in at another time. You need something to help you vent, maybe it will help. Until then I’ll get you a spare set of keys to my place. Feel free to use the basement or the woods whenever you need to.”

  “Thanks. Why is it you never tell me you’re sorry for my loss, or I never see that pitying look in your eyes?”

  “Honestly?” I see her nod in my peripheral view. “Well, that’s a multi-part thing. One reason is that I remember when my mom died, people would say those things to me or I’d see their looks, and it was irritating and exhausting. Second, if I said those things or gave you those looks, would it even be believable? I mean I didn’t really know you or Jill, and if events hadn’t panned out exactly as they did, we probably wouldn’t be in this car right now. For instance, if I hadn’t had an unusually long day in the OR I could have been long gone and wouldn’t have had a clue what had happened. I guess my point is that we really aren’t friends, so would my saying those things to you even be believable?” Katrina allows my words to soak in for a few seconds.

  “But we’re friends now, or at least becoming friends, aren’t we?” My turn to deliberate. I guess we must be, I mean I did just offer her a set of keys to my house.

  “Yeah, but my point is would it even feel real if I said those things to you. Do I feel sorry about what happened? Absolutely. I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel, nor will I pretend to. Have I felt some degree of pity for you? Yeah, I probably have. But I’ve also seen how damn strong you’ve been, and I know that you’re going to be ok. Maybe it will be a while, but I know you’re going to get there.” I can feel Katrina staring at me, yet my sideways view doesn’t allow me to discern her expression. Never a red light when you need one. “What?”

  “That might be the most honest thing anyone has said to me since the accident. Thank you.”

  “I don’t exactly have anything to lose do I?” I pull into the parking space and shut off the car.

  “Well, we are friends now.” Katrina at least smiles a little as she says it.

  “I suppose so. Before we go in, are you planning on getting blitzed in there?”

  “Would it be an issue if I were?” Honestly, I’d prefer she didn’t, but I have no right to tell her not to.

  “It would be understandable. Just want to know what I should be prepared for.”

  “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  We enter the brewery and find the table occupied by Catherine, Alex, and Abby. Katrina heads directly for the bar and Catherine gives me a look. “She needed to blow off some steam, so I stopped and let her get some of her frustrations out.” This time Alex gives me a look. “Not in the way you’re thinking. Not everyone thinks that sex is one of the key food groups like you do.” Catherine and Alex start laughing as I head towards the bar.

  “…heard. Sorry I couldn’t make it today. Sara! I was wondering where you were when those three walked in.”

  “Hey, Nate.” I look from Nate to Katrina and back again. “You two know each other?”

  “For years. I met Katrina when we were in some of the same undergrad classes. I didn’t know the two of you were friends though.”

  “May I have my usual?” I ask, opting to ignore getting into whether or not Katrina and I are friends.

  “Food, drink, or both?”

  “Did they order anything to eat yet?” Nate shakes his head. “Just the drink then. How’s Jeff?”

  “Oh you know Jeff, he’d tell you he’s fabulous. Honestly, he is. He should be back soon, he’s taking a delivery over to a VIP customer.” Nate sets two whiskey sours on the counter. “On the house ladies.” Katrina and I take our drinks and make our way back to our table. I quickly pick up that the topic of conversation is the mission trip and why Abby is not joining us this year.

  “So Sara, when will we be intruding on Friday night dinner and drinks again?” Catherine wears a hopeful grin as she poses the question.

  “It will have to wait until after my trip. Maybe in a month.” I watch her grin transform into a frown and shrug in response.

  “Sorry, Friday night dinner and drinks?”

  “Alex and Abby have been friends since the beginning of time. They have a custom of going out after work together on Friday nights, just the two of them. Catherine and I invite ourselves along now and again.”

  “Wait so you two,” Katrina points to Alex and Abby, “used to and now you two?” She looks at me and then Abby. The four of us all start laughing in unison.

  “No, Abby has never been a vagatarian.”

  “Alex, really?” Catherine pokes her in the side. Nate saunters over to our table and sets a drink in front of Abby.

  “What’s this?” Abby eyes the drink and then joins the rest of us, focusing on Nate.

  “Gentleman at the bar sends his regards. Anyone else need another?” Katrina indicates that she does. I look over and realize that she’s made her way through her first one before I’m halfway through mine. I can see where this evening is headed already and ask Nate to bring me a water when he returns. As he walks away, we all start giving Abby a hard time, trying to figure out which of the men at the bar bought her the drink. We make our picks so we can force it out of Nate when he returns. When he does, we discover that Catherine was right, not surprising since she seems to possess a 6th sense when it comes to reading people. Abby pumps Nate for some information on the man, trying to decide if she should go talk to him. Nate says he seems like a decent guy, used to come in with the same woman but he hasn’t seen her in months, that he never gets drunk, usually just has a drink or two before leaving, and, most importantly, he says, that he is a good tipper.

  We order food while Abby continues to deliberate. By the time it arrives, Katrina is on her third drink, and Abby has decided to go for it. Abby takes her time returning, she doesn’t have to hurry, she ordered a simple Caesar Salad. I prepare to eat my buffalo chicken wrap while I observe Katrina, hoping she will eat at least half of her burger and fries. Thankfully she does, and we somehow manage to keep the conversation lively enough as we watch Abby interacting with the stranger. Twenty minutes later Abby practically bounces back to our table.

  “Clearly that went well,” Alex teases Abby.

  “It did, only, I sorta need to bail on Friday night dinner and drinks tomorrow. Is that OK?” Alex looks at Catherine and grins.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something to occupy the time.” Abby looks slightly embarrassed before looking at me.

&nbs
p; “Oh, uh, I don’t think it should be an issue but—.” I cut her off.

  “I’ll let you go if it gets too late. One of us should have some semblance of a love life.” I notice Katrina signaling for another drink. Everyone looks at me, and I realize that I’m not the only one keeping tabs on her consumption. I subtly shake my head and shrug my shoulders. Thankfully, no one says anything. At this point, I’m grateful that she ate a little over half of her food. Sensing where things are heading for Katrina, my companions have the wherewithal to ask for their tabs when Nate brings Katrina’s fresh drink to the table.

  “What tabs?” Nate winks as he walks away from us. Catherine and I look at each other and both start digging cash out at the same time. Abby takes off first, needing to get home to see her kid. Catherine collects the cash from me and tells me to focus on getting Katrina to the car. I thank her as she heads up to the bar to stuff Nate’s tip jar.

  “Ready?” I watch as Katrina downs the remainder of her drink and slowly stands up, clearly wobbly on her feet. Alex notices. and we each take a side in an effort to get her out to my car. Once she’s safely deposited in the passengers seat, I close the door and give Alex a hug goodbye, thanking her. Catherine joins us and we hug as well. They both look at Katrina then back at me.