Chapter Eighteen

Wow! Nickelback was fantastic last night. I've seen them several times in the last year, but this was the best. It was their last North American stop for 2009, and they came to party. They were having so much fun that they even played past the legal time for a concert in The Woodlands, costing them ~$35,000 ($5000/min after 11 PM). Saving Abel, Papa Roach, and Hinder were amazing too. Lots of love to my middle baby Hannah and her friend Laura, Kathryn and Tabbi, and Kristen who experienced it all with me.

Unfortunately, the late night combined with a morning church service have made me really tired. Thankfully, I didn't have much else to do today!! I should have just enough energy to make it through the Tru Blood season finale tonight. Yummmmm!!! Eric!!! If you've read the books, you'll know about the whole Bill/Sookie/Eric love triangle. I'm a Eric fan. I like my imaginary version of Eric better than the show version - he's bigger, brawnier, and rivals a male model in my head. Double Yummmm!!

My imaginary vision of Logan isn't nearly as brawny, but he's just as cute. Not that Logan is much more than an angry memory in Chapter 18. Of course, most everything is an angry memory in Chapter 18. Our heroine isn't exactly in the best mood. I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Poor Kate :)

Chapter 18

The sun was low in the sky when I finally opened my eyes. I didn’t need to look at my watch to know I’d slept for a very long time. Everything felt wrong. The air was too cold and house too small. The couch was simple upholstery instead of soft leather. But most of all, I could feel I was completely and utterly alone.
The pain that had vibrated through my entire body when I left the hotel was now a solidified throbbing lump near my heart. It was a living, breathing thing, my body simply its carrier. At least I no longer had to think. The only action required of me was to breath, eat, and drink – all simple bodily needs requiring no real effort on my part.
Since I had to do something, I stood up and walked through the house, turning off the air conditioning and opening windows to let in the cool early fall air. These small tasks were done too quickly. What did I do now? The eerily quiet house mocked me. Nothing to do and nobody to do it with.
The only thing in the refrigerator was a solo can of Diet Coke, so I ignored my growling stomach and made do with gulping the drink in the middle of the kitchen. I’d have to go out for food eventually – just not now. As the caffeine jump-started the sensory parts of my brain, I began to feel the thin layer of grime coating my body and the disgusting sensation of unclean teeth. Holding the remains of my drink, I headed for the shower. Unfortunately, the heat of the shower and the rough bristles of the new toothbrush pulled from the medicine cabinet only cleaned my body. They did little to clean the stain on my soul.
The living, breathing thing that had taken me over still throbbed in time to my heart.
It was fully dark when I stumbled out of the bathroom. Although I hadn’t been awake long, the need to lose myself again in the oblivion of sleep pulled me to my bedroom. The thick mattress, the peaceful colors, the flowing white curtains all welcomed me as if I’d never left. The optimism of the old me, the certainty of who and what I was, the pure innocence could be felt in the room. I allowed myself to sink into its comfort. Maybe if I didn’t leave this space, maybe if I stayed very still and hoped, maybe I could pretend I was still the same person who’d walked out of this space three months ago.
The sun was bright, but the house still too cold when I opened my eyes for the second time. The happy feeling that always filled me when in my room flared brightly before being ruthlessly smashed by the living, breathing pain creature. Oh, that’s right. I wasn’t happy. I’d never be happy again.
It was a moment before I registered the pounding at the front door. I pulled the blankets up over my head and prayed whoever it was would go away, but the pounding continued. Shit, this was Mapleton. At least five people would be watching the pounding intently. I’d gotten used to being the topic of media discussion, but in its own way, Mapleton’s gossip could be more brutal. Before my uninvited guest could pound again, I pulled myself out of bed and yanked the door open.
“Kate! Thank God you’re okay. Your Mom and I have been so worried.” David gasped. The man I’d called Dad for seventeen years reached out to me, but before he could touch me, I yanked my body back. David looked as if I’d slapped him.
“Of course I’m not okay, David. I am still breathing, though.” My voice was flat and unemotional. I didn’t allow myself to react to the agony in his expression.
“Katie, can I come in? Please,” he pleaded.
I didn’t want to let him, but if I didn’t, everyone in town would be talking about it by the end of the day. Stepping back to let him in, I shut the door behind him with a slam.
“What could you possibly want, David,” I asked. The hurt and pain living inside me pleaded to be let loose. It wanted to flow out of me and destroy this person who’d pretended to be someone he wasn’t for my entire life. That it would destroy me and what remained of my sanity in the process was of little consequence.
“You’re my daughter, Kate. I love you. You need to believe that.” His soft blue eyes, so different from mine, implored me to believe him.
How had I not noticed our differences? David Swanson and I looked nothing alike. How had I never thought to wonder?
“But I’m not, am I? You’ve known that all along.” It felt good to finally make the accusation.
“I’m your father in the only way that has ever mattered, Kate. I’ve loved you since before you were born. I will love you until I take my last breath.”
Sure. Right. You didn’t lie to the ones you loved.
“Did it just slip your mind to tell me? Did you think I didn’t need to know? Didn’t, at some point in the last SEVENTEEN years, it occur to you that well, shoot, maybe today I should tell Kate I’m not HER REAL FATHER?????” I struggled to control my anger as it fought to be released.
David’s chin dropped to his chest. I watched as he struggled to control his breathing. “I wanted to tell you. We both did. There was always some excuse. The time just never seemed right. We planned on telling you eventually.”
“Well, eventually just came, but nobody told me. I had to overhear Mom, Bridgette, telling Kyle. Of course, he figured it out on his own. I was apparently the only person to stupid to not know.”
He visibly cringed. “That’s what your Mom assumed. Logan only knew you’d found out.”
“Yes, DAMN IT, that’s what happened.” The pain throbbed harder.
“They’re all sick with worry, Kate. Call them, honey. They love you very much.” He tried to take my hand. Yanking it away, I walked to the door. If he didn’t leave soon, it’d be too much. I couldn’t think about it any more.
“I think it’s best you leave. Don’t bother coming back. I’ll be fine here. I have a credit card for food. I’ll even start school with the rest of the kids. Just please tell Bridgette to leave me alone.” It was my turn to plead.
“Kate….” He looked torn.
“Please, Daddy. Oh, God, please just leave me alone.” Agony I could no longer hold at bay ripped through me. I needed my Dad, but he no longer existed.
“Katie.” He cried, trying to touch me once again.
“NO!!” I yelled, ripping open the door. “Leave.”
“I will for now, Kate. But I’ll be back. I love you, and I’m not giving up on that.” The soft click of the closing front door echoed through the house.
When I heard his car pull out of the driveway, I moved. I could do this. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t mourn the loss of who I’d been anymore. I’d put my life back together. It was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other until it became a habit. My mother and apparently my father were actors. I would just have to learn how to act too.
What did normal people do?
My stomach growled in response. Food. How long had it been since I’d eaten? I couldn’t even remember. I’d have to go to the grocery store. Okay, good. That was a start. What else did normal people do? Oh, yeah. School. I forced my mind to remember what day it was. My world had shattered on Thursday; Logan had betrayed me on Friday morning so today would be Sunday. That meant tomorrow was Labor Day and school started on Tuesday. I’d need school supplies. Normal kids bought school supplies.
Clothes? I’d left Houston so quickly that almost everything I owned was still there, including the beautiful fall school clothes I’d so happily bought with Mom at my side. The clothes neatly hanging in my closet felt wrong. They were Kate Swanson’s. No matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise, I wasn’t Kate Swanson. Kate Swanson was David Swanson’s daughter. I may not be sure of who I was, but I wasn’t that girl. I’d have to go to Minneapolis soon to find appropriate Kate Broucheriou clothing.
Melanie! I still had Melanie. She stuck with me through my breakup with Erik. I could trust her, and she’d be worried about me. I grabbed my phone, intending to send her a text message but put it down before dialing. I’d go to her now. I needed to see my best friend. Now.
Melanie’s house was less than a block away from mine. Small and simple, it at least felt like home. It sounded like home too. Unlike the stark quiet that had welcomed me back to my house, noise blared from Melanie’s house. I could hear her little brother yelling in the kitchen and her older brother playing some sort of video game in the living room.
The low purr of my car must have penetrated the noise because, as soon as I turned off the car, Boo, Melanie’s black lab, raced from the backyard to greet me.
“Hey, Boo. Hey, baby,” I cooed as the gigantic dog hopped up and down, doing his best to lick every inch of my face in greeting.
“Boo? Shut up. Boo???….. Kate!!” I didn’t have time to react to Melanie’s screech before she launched herself at me. All of my problems were temporarily forgotten as I was crushed in my best friend’s embrace.
“Melanie! Oh, my God, I missed you,” I said.
“Why are you here? I thought you were going to LA. I was worried when you didn’t call, but I figured you were just getting settled in,” she gushed.
Pain warred with the joy of our reunion. That’s right. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Change of plans,” I tried to keep my voice light. “I decided to come home.”
“But…” Melanie started.
“Melanie! What are you doing out there? Come on in for breakfast,” Melanie’s mom called from the kitchen.
“Come on inside, Kate. Mom is making pancakes.”
The loneliness that engulfed me since I returned to Mapleton lifted just a little bit at the sound of her mom’s voice. I’d always considered Mrs. Carlson a second mom. Through the years, she’d always been there. She’d been the mediator when Melanie and I argued, the cook when Mom had worked late at the store, and tutor when I’d needed help at school. She’d shared in my laughter and dried my tears. And, although she lacked the dazzling glory of Bridgette Swanson, Gail Carlson was pretty close to awesome.
Hand in hand, Melanie and I walked inside to find Mrs. Carlson at the stove. As she turned her head mid-pancake flip, Melanie announced, “Mom, look who’s back.”
“Kate!!” Mrs. Carlson’s cry was nearly as deafening as Melanie’s. She dropped her spatula to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheek. “Oh my goodness, Kate. You’re so beautiful. I mean, you’ve always been beautiful. I’ve seen you on the television and in the magazines this summer, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. You’ve grown into a very beautiful women.”
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. Her voice was just so…. motherly.
I quickly blinked back my tears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Melanie’s brow crinkle with concern. Mrs. Carlson might have missed the tears, but Melanie knew me too well.
“Thank you, Mrs. Carlson,” I said.
“Well, sit down. We’re getting a slow start today. Breakfast is almost ready.” She flipped fresh pancakes onto plates for Melanie and me. Bacon and eggs followed the pancakes. My empty stomach practically jumped for joy. The rest of me wasn’t so convinced.
The kitchen was too alive. Melanie’s brothers argued good naturedly over who got the last piece of bacon. Mr. Carlson playfully kissed the back of Mrs. Carlson’s neck. Everything was warm and loving and homey.
It reminded me of everything I was trying to forget.
“So, Kate. How’s your Mom? Your Dad? I just saw him and Laura a couple of days ago. They didn’t tell me you’d decided to come home. Laura says Matthew’s a good sleeper, so hopefully he won’t be keeping you up too much. Melanie will sure hate having you so far away,” Mrs. Carlson babbled away as she cleaned the kitchen. The noise had decreased to a low roar, the typical decibel level in the Carlson house, and conversation was once again possible – unfortunately. I’d been hoping to avoid this discussion.
“They’re both fine, Mrs. Carlson.” Well, not really, but…. “I won’t be staying with Dad and Laura, though. I’m staying in town.” I saw Melanie’s forehead crinkle again.
“What?? Why would you do that? I’m sure it would be a lot of fun to stay with your Dad for awhile.” Mrs. Carlson’s voice was perplexed.
“I’m sure it would be fun, but I would rather stay in town.” I tried to keep my voice firm and confident.
“Well, if it’s okay with your Mom and Dad. You’re welcome to stay here whenever you want.” She strained to keep her voice positive. It was a struggle; I could tell her motherly instincts knew something was wrong. But she didn’t pry.
Melanie on the other hand… I had a feeling she wouldn’t be as unwilling to probe into the details.
“Come on, Kate. Didn’t you say something about needing to go into Mankato? Let’s go,” Melanie demanded.
“Sure, Mel. We’ll take my car,” I responded. Thanks to the glories of my beautiful car, I should be able to avoid Melanie’s probing. Temporarily, at least. The concerned look she’d given me in her kitchen would still be there while she thoroughly admired the new car. It would just be hidden behind an expression of envious car-adoration.
The short drive to Mankato passed quickly. The twenty minute drive that had always seemed so long before my time in Houston was over before there was time to ready myself or Melanie for the inevitable attention. Even in Mankato and even while wearing a simple pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, America’s Sweetheart would be instantly recognizable. Uncomfortable questions were far easier to avoid than well meaning fans.
“I’m sorry about this, Melanie,” I apologized in advance. “Just smile and follow my lead.” My words echoed those spoken by Mom so long ago as we’d arrived in Houston. I hadn’t really understood what she meant then. I doubt Melanie did now.
The attention didn’t start right away. Melanie and I were able to make it past the cash registers, through the electronics section, and to the school supplies department before the first group of people approached. Everyone was very Minnesota nice, but as one group followed another that followed another, Melanie’s eyes grew huge. Signing autographs and politely speaking to everyone who approached me made picking out mundane items such as pens and pencils nearly impossible. Eventually, Melanie grabbed the list and shopped for me while I did my impression of a social butterfly.
It was more than I could handle – the pain creature throbbed with every question about Mom or Kyle or Logan, but I refused to act like Savannah during our Galleria shopping spree. This was my home, and these people cared about me. The least I could do, even if all I wanted to do was close my eyes and forget about everything that had happened in the past few days, was talk to them.
The grocery store was more of the same. Pick out a box of cereal, say hello, grab some cans of soup, sign an autograph, choose a container of ice cream, shake a hand or return a hug. By the time I loaded the car with all of my purchases, I was exhausted and hurting. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed.
I might have been exhausted, but Melanie appeared shell-shocked.
“Wow. Is that how it always is?” Her voice was both horrified and impressed.
“Not always. But a lot of the time. They got used to us a bit in Houston,” I replied. “The attention is fun sometimes. It goes to your head. It becomes addictive.”
“Hopefully they get used to you here soon. Otherwise, I’ll have to become your personal shopper,” she teased.
I smiled a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. They’d get used to me again. Kate Broucheriou would get absorbed back into the fabric of southern Minnesota. She’d never be Kate Swanson again, but time would pass and the throbbing pain creature would fade away. Eventually.
Melanie saw the emotions as they passed across my face.
“What’s wrong, Kate? I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” Melanie finally said.
Ignoring her question as I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, I considered what I would say. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone the full story. Melanie, however, could be trusted. She’d known all of my secrets since we’d been old enough to have secrets. If it were only a matter of secrets, I’d tell her everything.
“There’s a lot wrong, Mel. My life has been thrown upside down. I’m not speaking to Mom or Dad.”
“What happened?”
“Can we not talk about it right now? It’s too new, too fresh,” my eyes begged her to understand.
“Sure, I guess. But, what about Logan?”
What about Logan? The still fresh pain insisted I was right to have walked out on him. He’d betrayed me too, just like Mom and Dad. The miniscule part of me that was still able to reason and think, though, was whispering that I might have struck out mindlessly and without reason at someone who didn’t deserve to be attacked. “Logan loves you,” it said. “He didn’t really know anything. He only guessed.”
“I don’t know, Melanie. Things weren’t left so good with him. I guess I’m not really speaking to him either.” The whispering part of me groaned in memory of those last moments in Logan’s room. Tears filled my eyes.
“Kate….” Melanie looked as if she wanted to push for more details but stopped when she saw the tears. “Oh, Kate!”
Melanie reached over to grab my hand and squeeze it in support. “I’m here when you finally want to talk about it.”
“Thanks, Mel. I love you. Hey, think about all the good sleepovers we can have. No mom in sight,” I said forcing my self to joke. The words fell flat, but she let them pass, smiling while squeezing my hand a second time.
I dropped Melanie off at her house, ignoring her pleads for me to come inside for dinner. I’d done more than I thought possible today – walking, talking, eating, and drinking like a normal person. More family time with the Carlson’s would be too much. If I wasn’t careful, I’d think too much – remember too much. And, if I did think too much, the pain creature might tear my heart apart.
As I drifted to sleep that night, pictures of my past flashed through my head - the love, happiness, and joy that used to make up my life. No longer could I claim to be part of that charmed life. My luck had finally run out. Kate Broucheriou would have to make her own luck.

© 2008-2009 Elizabeth Johnson