...from Katrina
by Africa Fine
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Katrina watched her breath explode into white puffs then disappear into the cold air outside Chrissy’s house. She pulled her leather jacket
tight around her shoulders and turned the heat on high before settling down into the bucket passenger seat of Linc’s car. The old tan Honda
sedan hummed loudly when he started it, and with the heater forcing out gusts of cold air, Katrina felt blanketed by sound.
Linc reached over to turn the heat down, then handed her a thick, gray cable-knit cardigan from the backseat.
“It won’t get warm for a while. Old car,” he apologized. “Put on that sweater under your jacket, maybe you’ll warm up.”
They rode in silence, Katrina staring at a spot on the floorboard where the car had rusted through. There was no floormat, and she could see
the black bumpiness of the street through the cherry-sized hole. White flashed when Linc turned a corner or changed lanes, then back to the
dark pavement. When she squinted and held very still, the asphalt looked like lava running under the car.
“Right here, left at the light, five miles down the road,” was all she said, barely looking up as she directed.
She felt Linc looking over at her as she focused on the floor of the car, and she wished she lived closer to Chrissy instead of twenty minutes
away. Those hours in the kitchen, when she was so relaxed, so comfortable, felt like another lifetime. Now she felt anxious and tense and
wondered what he was thinking.
He didn’t speak until they were three blocks from her apartment building.
“So ...I didn’t get to hear much about you tonight,” he said quietly.
“I figured Chrissy would have told you everything you needed to know,” she said, pointing to her building. “This is me, stop here.”
He pulled into a spot in front of her door and put the car in park. He turned toward her, leaned his head against the seat’s headrest and
looked at her. “You don’t get to know someone through someone else.”
She coughed uncomfortably and reached for her purse.
“Well, I better get inside.” She grabbed the door handle.
He turned off the car. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No, you don’t have to.”
“Katrina, it’s the middle of the night,” he said, peering out the window into the still pre-dawn. “I’m walking you to the door.”
They moved quickly, shivering in the late October air. Katrina fumbled for her keys and randomly thought that this would be the last time she
could wear a short skirt before the snow came. She put the key in the lock and turned to Linc.
“Thanks for the ride. It was really nice of you,” she said formally.
He smiled and waved a hand in the air. “Any time. I don’t live far from here anyway.” They stood at her front door, eyes locked, and it
reminded Katrina of the day Patrick had returned. They’d stood in this same spot, taking each other in. Then they’d made love for the first
time on her living room floor.
Guilt bubbled up from her stomach. She hadn’t thought about Patrick since she left Chrissy’s bedroom. Maybe something legitimate had
kept him from the party. She felt disloyal, confused. She broke away from Linc’s gaze and opened the door. “I need to get in out of the
cold,” she said quickly. He nodded and leaned close, and she braced her lips for a kiss.
Instead, he kissed her on the forehead and squeezed her arm. “I had a great time tonight. But next time, we talk about you.” He waved and
walked back toward his car.
She stepped inside and closed the door, watching him through the side window. Next time? She blew into her hands before taking off her
jacket. She walked through the apartment, turning on lights and turning up the heat, and she caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror.
She was still wearing Linc’s gray sweater. She pulled it off and folded it carefully. Next time.
| All rights reserved. |
africa fine
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| excerpt: katrina |
| Katrina 2001 |
| Becoming Maren 2003 |
| Looking for Lily 2008 |
| Save Me 2009 |
| Swan 2010 |