Welcome to Part Two of The Lonely Girl.
Many people commented after Part One that I should 'finish the damn story.' I provided an epilogue to summarize where I envisioned Claire and Kyle's journey ending up. Many folks provided feedback that this was not enough, which I completely understand.
The Lonely Girl was my first story here and I put a lot of emotion into it. The bullying that is described throughout the tale really happened. I either witnessed or have direct knowledge of the real-life versions of the incidents described. Thankfully I never partook in anything described, as it is all horrible.
After the emotionally draining journey, I felt the journey back would not have the same punch, so I was content to leave the story where it was. Then I reread The Lonely Girl and realized how much I loved the characters. I also realized that a journey to redemption would be long and emotional as well. I have decided to tell it here.
The Lonely Girl - Pt 2
Kyle stared at the steam swirling off the freshly poured cup of tea in front of him. He never drank tea, but given the circumstances, he wasn't going to decline the offer. Claire sat across from him, staring at her own cup. Neither was sure who should start the conversation.
Given everything she had gone through, Kyle finally resolved that he should be the one to start... the question was where.
"I'm truly sorry Claire... while I didn't have anything to do with it, I'm still sorry about what you went through."
He paused and took a sip of his tea. Still too hot.
"I also understand now why you reacted the way you did."
"I'm sorry, too." Her voice was barely a whisper. She was sorry - sorry things had turned out the way they had. She wasn't sure if she was sorry about trying to push him away though. Her mind was still coming to grips with the news that he hadn't orchestrated the whole thing. When you've believed something to be true for years, it's not a switch that can be turned off.
"I'm also sorry about your parents. I didn't find out about that until about a week ago."
"Thank you."
Kyle looked at the frail girl that sat across from him. Head down, face mostly covered by her hair. It made him think of another frail girl... he pushed it away. This wasn't Charlie in front of him and Claire didn't need pity. What did she need? There was too much emotion swirling in his mind at that moment to figure it out.
"So do you live here by yourself now?"
"Yes."
Kyle wanted to ask, but felt he knew the answer... there really was no one else in her life. She was alone. His heart broke even more... he felt the tears wanting to form. He pushed them down. It wouldn't help. Better to keep the conversation moving.
"When I dropped the groceries off the other day, I saw a fenced-in area in the back of the house. Is that a garden?"
"Yes."
"Would you show it to me?"
Claire looked up at him. Her face was still partially hidden, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. He also realized that he still found her beautiful.
"You want to see my garden?"
"Please, if you don't mind."
"Umm, ok."
Claire hesitantly rose, as did Kyle. He took a step back, knowing his size could be intimidating. He wanted her to be comfortable. This was her space after all.
Claire took a step, then another, as if still deciding on her path. She then headed for the mudroom, put on her boots and grabbed her gloves and tools. Kyle was perplexed by this. Reflecting on it later, he realized this was part of her routine when going out to her garden.
They walked across the grass and Kyle followed her through the garden gate. It was easy to tell that Claire spent a lot of time here. All the rows were perfectly symmetrical. Little mounds, perfectly formed, where she had started planting.
Claire stood just inside the gate, realizing she wasn't sure what to do. She had all her tools to tend to it, but would Kyle just watch her? Kyle sensed her unease and started asking her questions about what she had planted so far. Kyle kept the conversation going by asking additional questions about when things were planted, how she started the garden and what her future plans were for it.
He realized it wasn't a conversation. Her answers were short. She didn't expand on things. It was up to Kyle to keep asking questions to keep things moving forward.
It hit him then. She didn't talk to people. Not like he did at least. He wondered how many interactions she had outside of a cashier at the grocery store. His heart broke a little more.
"Claire."
She turned and looked at him. A blank expression on her face.
"Do you still have the pasta I brought by the other day?"
"Yes."
"Can I cook for you?"
A perplexed look crossed her face... and then he saw the emotion reenter her eyes. He remembered how beautiful he thought those eyes were so many years ago in calculus class.
"You want to cook for me?"
"If you wouldn't mind... I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
Claire wasn't sure how she felt. This was the most interaction she had with someone since her parents died... and that interaction was with lawyers. She thought about it briefly. Kyle had been respectful since he got here. She couldn't think of a reason not to let him cook for her, but she also didn't understand why he wanted to. She realized she was ambivalent about it. Her budding feelings for Kyle, the hope she had once felt were so long ago, so long forgotten they didn't enter the equation. Still, she couldn't think of a good reason not to let him.
"I'm not uncomfortable; you can cook if you'd like."
They headed back into the house. It was then that Kyle noticed it looked like Claire had already started prepping a salad.
"Do you want to keep prepping your salad? We can have that first while I make the pasta."
"Ok."
Claire went about making the salad, seemingly oblivious to Kyle searching through her cabinets for a pot for the pasta water. Kyle thought it curious at first. It didn't take him long to realize though that it made sense. She probably never had company. She had been doing this by herself for years now. That was fine; he would figure out where everything was.
Kyle finally found a pot and was happy to see that it was made for pasta with a removable colander. He filled it with water and eventually found the salt, which he added generously to the water and put it on to boil.
He then dug into the fridge for the pasta. After a little more digging and he found some heavy cream and parmesan cheese. Good, he could make a basic cream sauce. She'd already had his family's red sauce recipe, so now he could make something different for her.
There were some shallots on the counter which made him smile. He grabbed one and finely diced it. He found a sauté pan and put a small amount of butter in it, let it melt a bit and then put the shallots in. He added the fresh pasta to the now boiling water. He then added some cream to the sauté pan, slowly mixing the tiny pieces of shallot into the cream.
Kyle glanced at Claire. She was busy chopping up walnuts. Head down, hair covering her face. He worried momentarily about her cutting herself because she couldn't see what she was doing. He pushed that thought away. She'd been doing this alone for ages.
Kyle turned off the heat and removed the colander from the pot. He poured the water into the sink, reserving a bit for the sauce. He put the pasta back into the pot and added a tiny bit of olive oil to keep it from sticking. He added some of the parmesan to the sauce and kept stirring it. Satisfied once it started to thicken, he added some of the pasta water and continued to stir. He took a bite of the pasta... still a little under done. Good.
Kyle added the pasta to the sauce and continued stirring it together. He turned the heat off and looked over to where Claire had been working. The salad was finished and mixed in a bowl. Claire stood there just watching him. When he looked over, she lowered her head. He felt another stab in his heart. He wanted to say something, to tell her it was ok for them to look at each other, but he didn't want to push her either.
"Should we have the salad first?"
"Ok."
Claire walked over to a cabinet, grabbed a bowl and started walking back. She paused, turned again and went back to get another bowl. She grabbed two forks from the silverware drawer and put everything down, heading to the fridge and getting some dressing. She served the salad and they ate quietly in the nook.
"This is really good Claire, where'd you get the recipe?"
"It was my momma's recipe."
Shit. Kyle felt bad, but realized it was unavoidable. He had no way of knowing what topics would remind her of her parents.
"Well, your momma was a good cook."
Claire just nodded. Head still down, hair covering most of her face.
Kyle finished his salad.
"Would you like me to serve some of the pasta?"
Claire looked up at him for the briefest of moments. "Yes, please."
He got up and took his bowl over the sink. Claire had only eaten a few bites of her salad, so he left her bowl with her.
He turned the heat back on and quickly stirred the pasta and sauce a bit - just a moment to put some heat back in. Then he turned it off and went to the cabinet from which Claire had grabbed the salad bowls. He found larger bowls which were perfect for the pasta. He would have liked to add some herbs on top of the pasta, but he didn't want to put Claire out if she didn't have any. He grabbed two more forks and placed the bowl in front of Claire.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Claire." He said it softly while looking down at her. The kind way in which the words were delivered caused Claire to look up at him.
She still couldn't see him. Not really. She couldn't see the emotion displayed on his face. The shell she had built around her was hard. She hadn't had her parents to interact with, to pull her out of her shell occasionally... to love her. Without them there was no one, so deeper and deeper she went.
Kyle could tell something wasn't right. There was no emotion on her face. No recognition that he was trying to connect with her. He smiled and sat down across from her again.
He wanted to speak. To pull out the Claire he had started to get to know in high school, but he was at a loss for what to say. They ate silently. Kyle finished his pasta, noticing that Claire had barely made a dent in the small portion he had given her.
"Claire, if you don't like it, you don't have to eat it. I won't feel bad... it's admittedly very rich. That's why I use so little sauce."
"No, it's actually really good. Thank you."
"You've just eaten so little tonight."
"Sorry, I'm just not very hungry."
