Authors: Laurel Osterkamp
“I know. But given the circumstances, I think I deserve forgiveness.”
Lacey put her hands on her hips. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you stole my boyfriend! How about cutting me some slack? Instead you accuse me of being self-involved every time I ex-press my anger.”
“I didn’t do that, and I didn’t steal him. He came willingly. Look, I truly am sorry about everything, but what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to explain how you could throw away our friend-ship.”
Lacey rolled her eyes and took an indignant breath.
“What?” I said in response to her nonverbal answer.
“I love him, and I need him. And our friendship... well, don’t you think we were both outgrowing it a little, anyway?”
Her words were a slap in the face. She continued. “I mean, what do we have in common anymore? We don’t even know how to talk to each other.”
“You’re saying that because of your dad,” I replied. Lacey shook her head.
“No.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I never knew how to be a friend to you after he died. But you could have given me a clue.”
“Or,” Lacey said tersely, “You could have simply figured it out. Peter was able to.”
“So that’s what this is about?”
Lacey collapsed onto the couch, and buried her head in her hands.
“Okay, then answer this, does he make you happy? Yes, or no?”
“Of course he makes me happy! Do you think I would be marrying him if he didn’t?”
“I don’t know, because as you just implied, I don’t know you anymore. But I’ve been trying to forgive you anyway, and I figured something out. If I truly thought this was for the best, if I could believe he gave you something no one else could, something I failed to give you after your dad died, than maybe I could forgive you. But as little as I know you, I still feel like I really know Peter. And it’s hard to believe he’s giving you all that.”
Lacey got up to angrily fluff pillows and arrange things that weren’t out of order in the first place. “You have no right to come here and say these things to me! He’s my boyfriend now! I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but that’s how it is.”
“Were you even listening to me?!”
“Yeah, I was listening, and you can drop the guilt trip.”
“It wasn’t a guilt trip!”
“What do you want from me, Faith?”
“Honesty! And perhaps a little compassion! I want you to listen to me, and answer me, and give me half a chance at becoming your friend again! Why is that so difficult? Did our friendship mean so little that you can dismiss it so easily?”
“God! You don’t get it, do you?” Lacey yelled at me. Her face was red and her eyes were squinting.
“Obviously I don’t. You were my oldest friend! We shared every-thing, and I don’t know how to throw that away like you do. I need to know what happened.” Lacey didn’t say anything as she sat back on the couch, resigned to the conversation. “I mean, was I that awful a friend? Was I honestly that self-involved? Because if I was, if I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, then I am sorry. Really.”
She sighed. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing to me.”
Lacey’s anger was gone, and I saw the beginning of tears form in her eyes. It was one more thing I couldn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“Come on! I stole your boyfriend! I should be apologizing to you. God! This is just so typical of you.”
In my confused desperation I began to stutter. “B-but, you said that he c-came willingly, and that I was self-involved.”
“I never said you were self-involved.”
“Yes you did! You said not everything is about me, which is the same thing.”
“No it isn’t! But you do make things about yourself; you do it all the time. You’re doing it right now.”
“I am? I’m not trying to.”
“You’re trying to prove you’re a better person than I am. You’re trying to make me feel bad about what I did to you.”
“No, I’m not! I wanted to see if there was a chance we could be friends again.”
Lacey shot up from the couch. “I’m late! Okay? I’ve got to go. You... you should have called.” She walked towards the door and opened it, cueing me to leave. I was out of things to say, so that’s what I did.
“Faith,” she said, right as I got to the door, “the thing is, and I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I had to choose between the two of you. And I chose Peter. Maybe you can forgive me for that. But I don’t think I can forgive myself.”
“So that’s it? We’ll never be friends again?”
“I don’t see how we can.”
* * *
I drove back up to Two Harbors, but I didn’t turn in when I got to my parent’s place. I just had too much thinking to do, and needed some alone time. I wanted to run away.
After several hours I reached the Canadian border, and I realized I had already started a new life when I moved to
Minneapolis
. So, I decided I probably ought to deal with the hand I had been playing before I ran away again. I drove back down. After all, I had to keep Carolyn from going fishing.
When I got inside, the place was quiet. I looked at my watch; it was nearly 11:00 p.m.! I sure had lost track of time. And I hadn’t even eaten dinner. I went to the kitchen to remedy that, and I found that my mother and Carolyn had left me the dinner dishes to do. So I made myself some peanut butter toast, then set to work.
The place was still, since most everyone staying there would be getting up at around 5:00 a.m. to fish. I found washing the dishes to be almost meditative, so when I was done I decided to go ahead and scrub the kitchen floor. I wasn’t sleepy at all, and the cleaning was focusing my thoughts. I felt so strong and independent that when I was done I went on to clean the oven. Missy would have been amazed and jealous that I hadn’t ever done the same to our apartment.
I was reorganizing the pantry when I heard a rustling from the other room. The clock said it was close to two. I walked out of the kitchen, and found myself face to face with Ethan.
“Oh! It’s you. Um, did you need something?” I stammered this, as I tugged on my flannel shirt and khaki shorts, and smoothed my hair. I knew I was a mess.
“I couldn’t sleep. I was going to go for a drive.”
“Oh. Well, would you like some warm milk, or something?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Warm milk?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that what people drink when they can’t sleep?”
“I don’t know. Have you ever had warm milk?”
“Sure. In hot chocolate, or in a latte. Haven’t you?”
“I meant warm milk on its own.”
“Oh. No. Have you?”
“No, but it sounds disgusting,” he said, smiling ever so slightly.
“Right. So that would be a no, then. Okay, well if you don’t need anything, I’m going to get back to the pantry.” I started back.
“Hey Faith!” I stopped and turned back around. “What’s with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m nice to you and you’re cold as ice. Then I yell at you, and a few hours later you’re offering me warm milk. Why?”
“Because. You were right. I hold grudges. And I’m self-involved. But believe it or not, I’m still a nice person. And that,” I turned to leave, “is what’s with me.” I said that last part with my face towards the door so he wouldn’t see I was upset. No such luck.
“Hey wait, are you okay?” He lightly tapped my shoulder, and I stopped.
“Not really,” I replied. “Do you ever go through phases where it feels like no one is on your side? Like you don’t know how to truly explain what you’re feeling, so everybody misunderstands and assumes the worst about you?”
Ethan nodded his head. “Sure. Actually, you made me feel that way.”
I looked down at my feet, studying my worn fake Birkenstocks.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“It’s okay. I can’t blame you. I said I’d call, and the next time you see me I’m with Glenn. But I can explain about that...”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I’m sure you have a lot going on right now.”
“I... didn’t you have a good time when we out?”
I looked back up at him, and my attempt at playing it cool melted away. His glasses were crooked, his hair was sticking up in chunks, and I found him completely irresistible. But those who’ve been burned are prone to fear fire, and I was no exception.
“Sure, but this whole thing between us, it’s too confusing. Maybe it shouldn’t be so much work.”
Ethan shrugged his shoulders and took a step away from me. “Okay. But about before, you made me angry, that stuff you said about Glenn. And you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Ethan, I don’t need to hear about you and Glenn. You and I are just going to be friends, so it doesn’t matter.”
Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “Then let’s move on.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. He held out his hand and I shook it.
“I’m sorry too.” I breathed deeply, relaxing into the situation. When I looked up at him I noticed a half smile on his face before he continued speaking. “I can’t believe your parents own this place.” He was still holding onto my hand.
“I can’t believe that you stuff dead animals.” I made a gesture with my free hand towards all the mounts that had been set up in the room. “Are any of these yours?”
He pointed over to the biggest one, a deer that was standing on all fours, its head gracefully turned over its shoulder. It was like someone had stuffed Bambi’s mother. “Just this one,” he said.
I tried to be polite. “Wow. That’s cool.”
He laughed. “I’m kidding. None of these are mine. My dad is the one who is into this stuff. I come up here because it’s a chance to spend time with him when he’s relaxed and happy.”
“Oh. Male bonding, I see.”
“Something like that.” He was looking at me again, his eyes con-centrated, full of an emotion I couldn’t identify. Then he tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me towards him. We were so close I could feel his breath on my face, and I had lost my own ability to breathe, to think, to move. In the space of an instant, his arms were around me, and his lips were on mine. Our tongues and our lips struggled with each other for a moment before we found the perfect rhythm, and I lost myself to passion and sensation. I don’t remember having any conscious thoughts during that moment, but if I did, I’m sure I was thinking nothing ever felt so good.
“Maybe we should rethink this ‘just friends’ thing,” he whispered into my ear.
“Mmmhmm...” I replied. I was going to say more, but he cut me off with another kiss. After a long time we pulled away from each other.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” I said.
Ethan smiled and stroked my cheek. “I don’t believe you.”
“I honestly wasn’t.”
“Then you’re dense. I’ve liked you since the first time I laid eyes on you. The entire time, all I’ve wanted is this.” And with that, he grabbed me and started kissing me again. Now, if I was smart, I would have stopped and let him explain about Glenn and why he never called. But I didn’t stop.
Instead I let him lead me over to the couch, where he laid down on top of me. I arched back as his hips, his chest, his everything met my own. Soon I was so lost in the feel of him that I didn’t realize the moan I heard was coming from my own lips. I forgot I was on my parent’s couch, in the front room of their bed and breakfast, surrounded by dead animals. I was aware only of the baby kisses he planted up and down my neck, which I returned by kissing him, hard, the way I had wanted to for so long. And I didn’t stop to contemplate anything as our bodies merged together as one. But as soon as it was over, I thought to myself, “God, I’m easy!”
Later we were still sitting on the couch, both of us sloppily redressed and dazed. Ethan was running his fingers through my hair, and the only noise in the room was the sound of our breathing. Neither of us knew what to say, so we sat there, afraid to break the spell that had been cast between us. But nothing lasts forever, and it was inevitable that one of us would start thinking about reality. Of course, that person was Ethan.
“Do you know what time it is?” he asked. I looked at my watch, which had miraculously remained on my wrist.
“It’s close to three.”
“I should probably get upstairs. My dad and I are going fi shing in a couple of hours.”
“So you do fish, huh? Do you hunt as well?”
“Yeah. My dad and I usually go at least once a season.”
“Do you kill animals when you hunt?”
“Um, isn’t that the definition of hunting?”
“You said it was your dad who was into this stuff. I meant do you, personally, kill animals?”
Ethan yawned. “If I say yes, will you still like me?”
“I’m just curious.”
He laughed softly. “No, you’re just strange. Your parents run a taxidermy convention, and you have some moral grudge against hunting.”
“I never said that. Actually, it’s Carolyn who... Oh, crap!”
“What?”
“Carolyn! I forgot. I promised her I wouldn’t let her go fishing.”