a part of an autobiographical novel (Cautiously Pessimistic) that I started but haven't finished:
KATHY Friday 8/28, 2009 7:30pm
They rode home from dinner in
silence. Both of them were tired from a
long week. A beer sloshed around lazily
in Jacob’s stomach. A beer fog swirled
lazily around his brain. Breana stared
out the window, meditating as much as driving.
She looked sad.
“What are you thinking about
Beautiful?” he asked, gazing out the window.
He turned down the AC.
“Kathy”
He straightened up a little. “Want to talk about it?” The dark streets of Marblehead crawled slowly
by.
“It just makes me sad. Kathy really fought you know, right up to the
end”
“I know,” he said,
reassuring. He looked over at her face,
she was sad but she wasn’t crying.
“It makes me think,” she
continued, “every time I get obsessed about all the little things that go
wrong… she really had some shit she went through in her life, divorces, bad
career stuff… cancer… and she really fought through it – right to the end.” She seemed to be talking to herself. He just listened. “She really was an inspiration to me. I kinda feel guilty,” she sniffed a little,
“like, I’m not her kid or anything, like I don’t really have a claim on her to
be so sad.”
“You can’t claim people like
that; you have a right to be sad. She
was your friend,” Jacob said. “Besides, I don’t think her family would want you
not to be sad about her dying. It’s
important to remember people.” He
thought, Strange, I don’t think I ever
met Kathy. He felt like he knew her.
“Kathy was very good to me. When I started on UNC, she helped me a
lot. She really taught me how to detail. My ‘reputation’” she made air quotes, “for
being good at that, for being good at anything – in the office – she taught it
to me. Not anybody else, just Kathy.”
“Really?” he had no idea.
“Yeah, she drew all the details
by hand then handed them to me to draft in AutoCAD. But she didn’t just use me as her pen,” she
was looking back into time and out the windshield at the same time. “She took the time to explain things to me. She sat me down and told me ‘Studs are spaced
like this’ and ‘If you’re doing a wood wall you do this’, like that,” a note of
sadness filled her voice, “She always looked out for me.
“I remember she asked me one time
where my family came from. I told her
that I thought my Dad’s family was from Latvia or Lithuania and she said, ‘You’re
a Slav! That’s why you’re so
smart!’ And I remember thinking that was
such a compliment, because Kathy always seemed so brilliant. She always was so interesting. She was like the woman I want to be –
strong.” There was a wistful note in her
voice. “And I could really talk to her
about India; she always seemed like the only person who really understood what
we meant when we talk about it. I think
people just think we’re crazy half the time.”
“Yeah, no kidding” he seized on
the opportunity to turn the topic away from Breana’s dark thoughts. Too much dwelling probably wasn’t good for
Breana right now. Too many stresses in
her life. “I hope your parents have a
good time there”
“I think they will,” she said
thoughtfully
“I hope so” Jacob said, thinking
of Donna’s penchant for 5 star hotels.
“I hope they come home with some fun crazy stories.”
She smiled, “They will.” They drove home in a lighter mood.
