KATE
Emily is in the shower the next time there is a knock at the door, and for a moment I panic. I am not prepared or able to deal with Michael any more than I already have. I’d hoped that I’d made it clear enough to him that I’m done, but I should have known that he wouldn’t give up so easily. I am afraid, because if I’m not careful I will surely fall victim to his persistence.
So I shrink back into the kitchen corner and wait for him to go away, holding my breath as if he could hear me. But the knocking persists, and when he finally speaks, it’s with Luke’s voice.
“Uhhh…Kate?” He mumbles quietly through the crack in the door. “I know you’re in there. There’s nowhere else for you to go. So uhh… can you like…open the door?”
In spite of myself I crack a smile. I cross over to the door and slide open the lock, pulling it out of the way. “Sorry,” I say.
“Why are you whispering?” Luke whispers back.
“Sorry,” I say again at normal volume. “I didn’t realize that I was.” There is an awkward silence. “So… what’s up?” I ask him.
“Oh,” he shakes his head, seemingly remembering why he is here. “Oh yeah, sorry. Michael is being an asshole.”
I laugh humorlessly. “Yeah, you get used to it.”
“Um… is, um… Emily here?” He asks nervously.
“Yeah, she’s in the shower. Do you…do you want to wait?”
“What, is she like living here now?” Luke asks, almost exasperated.
“No, Luke,” I say with a real smile. “Blizzard, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” he says, shaking his head again. “Okay. Yeah I’ll—I’ll wait.”
I open the door, allowing him entry. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “I was just about to make some lunch or something.”
“Yeah, actually,” he says. “Michael doesn’t really have much up there.”
“Hey Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you do me a favor and just not talk about Michael for now?” I can’t keep the plea out of my voice.
“I’m so sorry, Kate,” Luke blurts out. “I just don’t know… I don’t know how… this whole situation is just…”
“Fucked up?” I offer.
“Exactly.”
“So do you want strawberry or grape jelly?”
“What?” He asks.
“I’m making peanut butter and jelly,” I explain. “So. Strawberry or grape?”
“Grape,” he says. “What even is strawberry jelly?”
“It’s grape jelly but with strawberries,” I say. Obviously. Suddenly, Luke is laughing. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing, Kate. Just that you’re actually so lame sometimes that it’s cool.”
“Well thanks,” I grumble. “Should I cut your sandwich vertically or diagonally?”
He laughs even harder. “Can you cut it into four little triangles please, mom?” He says mockingly. Still, I do as he says and cut the bread diagonally both ways, sliding the plate to Luke across the counter. He’s sitting in the same barstool that Michael used to love, but I don’t comment on it.
