Redemption

For friends of Bill and Lois, with gratitude

© 2013

Please don't reproduce this original work without written permission from the author.

If you're looking for a lot of quick and dirty sex, this is probably not the story for you.

*

I looked at the clock when the phone woke me up. 2:30AM. Dread filled my chest as I answered.

"Hello?"

"I'm done."

"Kara, I can't...."

"I know, Jen. I just wanted to let you to know."

"Goodbye Kara."

I laid my head down and cried.

***

The phone rang in my office just as I was getting ready to leave for the day.

"Hello, darling. Want to meet Mark and me for dinner?"

"Hey Erik. A little late for a dinner invitation, isn't it? Anyway, I'm going running and then I want to paint the bathroom."

"Dull, girl."

"Says the accountant."

"That's why I have to make sure I have fun when I'm not at work!"

"I know. Some other night, k? And give me more notice. I'm a busy woman."

"Yes, I know. Just not busy with the right things. Speaking of which, you'll never guess who I ran into today."

"Adele?"

"I wish. No. Kara."

All of the air suddenly went out of my lungs and I sat down in my desk chair. Nine months had passed since that early morning phone call.

"Where?"

"At the pharmacy. She said she had a sinus infection and was picking up antibiotics."

"Likely story."

"She asked about you."

"What did you say?"

"I told her you were an old maid still pining for her."

"Erik!"

"I'm kidding. Give me some credit. I said you were fine and were fixing up a house."

"Why did you tell her that?"

"Uh, because it's true? Why not?"

"Because...she doesn't need to know anything about me anymore!"

"Whoa..."

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. It doesn't matter. How did she look?"

"Good. Clean."

"Yeah, for now."

"Jen..."

"I know -- let it go. OK. Have fun tonight. Say hi to Mark."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

Later that evening while I was painting my newly mudded bathroom, I found myself repeating a line from the old Bill Murray movie Meatballs: "It just doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter." I had recited it during finals weeks in college when I'd studied all I could and the results were out of my hands.

It was a lie now, of course, and I knew it. I hoped if I kept saying it, it would eventually become the truth.

I've always tried to escape from my feelings instead of dealing with them. When I was kid I would escape into books, or the fantasy world I created in my head. In that world, nobody screamed, or yelled, or drank. Now that I'm an adult I escape by running or working, and there are consequences if I do either of those things too much. I injure myself working out too hard, or I overwork and get sick. I'd started seeing a counselor a few months before Kara and I split up and I was still seeing her. She was helping me get a little more comfortable with my feelings. I was learning that feelings pass eventually, and I don't have to avoid them.

So I stopped painting a little earlier than I'd planned, made a cup of tea, and sat down to journal. I wrote about my sadness, anger, fear, and disappointment. I felt clearer. Not so stuck in the past. I slept well that night.

***

D.C. isn't a very big city; I knew it was only a matter of time before I ran into Kara. So I wasn't surprised when I sat down for brunch with Erik and Mark a couple weeks later and she walked up. Erik was sitting next to me; I reached for his hand under the table.

"Hi Jennifer."

Her dark copper hair was short and fashionably messy. Her gray eyes were clear and alert and she'd lost some weight. She looked good.

"Hi Kara. I heard you were back in town."

She smiled. "Yes, I figured Erik would tell you he and I ran into each other."

"He did. " I wanted desperately to ask how she was, but part of me felt too tired to even think about it. There was silence for a few moments. I struggled to keep my mouth shut, reminding myself it wasn't my job to make this less awkward. I'd taken care of Kara for too long.

"Jen, listen. I have some amends to make to you. Could we meet for coffee sometime?"

I felt Erik squeeze my hand. "I don't know Kara. I need some time to think about it." I expected her to argue with me, or try to convince me to meet her but she surprised me.

"Sure, whatever you need." She handed me a card. "You can call me whenever you feel ready. If you do."

When she left I let go of Erik's hand and looked at him.

"See?" he said. "Clean."

Mark looked at me, confused. He hadn't been dating Erik when Kara and I were together.

"It's a long story," I said to Mark. "She drank and used drugs while we were together. A lot of both. She almost died."

"Oh, Jen. I'm sorry," Mark said. "It must be hard to see her again."

I felt tears rising and I turned to Erik. "Did you have to get involved with a social worker? You couldn't fall in love with some gym rat with a case of testosterone poisoning?"

Erik laughed and Mark gave me that genuinely kind smile of his.

"I know. It's a pain in the ass when people are nice to us, isn't it?

I laughed. "Yes, damn it."

"What are you going to do?" Erik asked.

"I'll probably call her. Just not right now."

I sat down with my journal again when I got home after a run that afternoon. I found myself writing Kara a letter.

No one has ever seen me the way you did -- at least in the beginning, when you weren't blindingly drunk or stoned. You saw behind my masks. And I loved you for that. Oh god, I loved you. You had no idea how much, I think. You were too busy drinking and drugging. You weren't even in the relationship with me after the first six months.

I watched you slip away and thought my love would hold you. I thought I could help you heal. When I realized I was wrong, the pain was so intense. Beyond anything I could have imagined.

And now you're back. Stirring up my feelings again. I want to scream at you. I want to pound on your chest. I loved you...and you turned that love into some blackened, shriveled thing.

Whatever it is you want from me, I don't have it anymore. I have nothing left to give you.

I stopped writing, steadied myself and took some deep breaths.

In the end it was good for me, of course. Much as I would like to, I can't really blame you for the pain. Not all of it was about you, I get that now. And I don't know how long I would have gone without dealing with my family stuff if it hadn't been for you. So I guess I'm grateful.

But mostly I feel sad. It's all so sad.

That night I dreamed about Kara. She was sober and sucking on my nipples. I groaned and she moved slowly, gently, down my body, kissing the curve where my waist meets my hip. She dragged her tongue across my belly, tiny licks here and there randomly as she moved inexorably toward my center. She nuzzled in my patch of light brown hair, rubbing her cheeks on my mound. I could feel her breath on my clit and inhaled sharply. Using just the tip of her tongue, she touched my clit several times. "Oh god, Kara, yes......" She drew my clit into her mouth, wiping her tongue across it while she drove two fingers deeply into my wetness. I shook as I came, yelling her name....and woke myself up. My heart was pounding. I thought I'd finished crying over her, but that night I sobbed like it was a new wound.

A week later I dreamed about her again. She was alive in a newly dug, very deep grave. I was trying to pull her up but I lost hold of her hand and she fell down what had become a jagged cliff. I woke up yelling, "No!" with tears running down my face. I called my therapist and we talked about how I had wanted to rescue Kara, and about the grief. She suggested I work on trusting that the Universe -- or something -- would take care of Kara. It wasn't my job and never had been.

***

We met at a coffee shop on the Hill on a Saturday morning.

"I'd almost given up on you calling."

"It took me a few months to get here -- to be willing to talk to you."

"I'm grateful that you did."

"What do you want, Kara?"

"I want to apologize for...a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"For being dishonest. I wasn't being honest with myself, so I couldn't be honest with you. For being irresponsible, and for letting you down. For not being the partner you deserve. I was so wrapped up in myself and my addiction I couldn't be there for you."

"Oh." I was surprised. It was true, but I was surprised to hear her acknowledge it. Once Kara started using heavily, there wasn't much insight on her part. Or remorse.

"It wasn't you, you know."

"What do you mean? What wasn't me?"

"I mean there's nothing you could have done to make me stop. Except leave me, which you did. As painful as that was, it was the best thing you could have done. Losing you is what made me realize I needed help."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Did you ever love me? Really love me? Or was I just a good fuck and a place to crash? Someone to clean up after you?"

I regretted it as soon as I said it. I was trying to get back at her for how hurt I was and apparently it worked. Kara looked like I'd hit her. But she didn't get defensive the way she would have in the past.

"OK, I deserve that. I deserve all your anger. I'm sorry, Jen. I'm truly sorry. But you have to know how much I loved you. That was real."

She hasn't changed, I thought. Kara always expected me to know how she felt without her saying it.

"I don't have to know anything. I don't know what was real. I still don't. I don't even know what happened. You just disappeared. Which shouldn't have surprised me. You were always good at disappearing, at least emotionally. But all of a sudden here you are again and I have no idea where you were...."

"I was in Minnesota. In treatment."

"For nine months?"

"For six months, yes. I had a lot of work to do. I still do. I learned a lot about myself. About my triggers. About what I was hiding from. And how to face myself."

"I'm glad, Kara. I really am. I just don't know what you want from me."

I watched as Kara's hand reached towards mine, and then stopped.

"I want to know what I can do to make it right."

I looked at her incredulously.

"Make it right? There's nothing you can do. I don't think you have any idea how much I loved you or how much you hurt me."

"No, I don't think I can ever know that. Isn't there anything I can do to make a tiny piece of it better?"

"I'm not going to make this easier for you. Not anymore. There are some things you can't make better."

"I know."

Then suddenly I didn't want to be angry at her any more.

"You can stay sober. Just...stay sober."

Kara's smile took my breath away - the way it always had.

"You have no reason to believe me, I know. But I'm doing what it takes to stay sober. I meant it that night when I said I was done."

"You remember that?"

"Clear as day. That was my last night using. I couldn't get drunk or high no matter what I tried. You'd made it clear we were done and I tried to blot it all out. I used every substance I could get my hands on and I should have been as high as a kite. But there I was stone cold sober.... Thank you, Jen."

"For what?"

"For loving me. And leaving me. Goddess knows why you didn't do it long before you did. You saved my life."

I felt like the Grand Canyon was opening up in my heart and I had to leave. When I stood up Kara spoke.

"I'm sorry for everything, Jen. I mean it. I wish you the best."

"OK. See you around."

***

I ran into her a few weeks later in the Dupont Circle CVS.

She was waiting for a prescription when I saw her, and I'll admit my eyes narrowed slightly.

"Jen...before you say anything...."

"It's ok. It's none of my business anyway." I said goodbye and left.

As I headed home, I noticed I felt lighter - like the baggage I'd been carrying was gone.

***

The French doors were open to the backyard at Erik and Mark's place in Old Town. I could hear laughter as I hugged Erik.

"You ready to be the guest of honor?"

"Thanks for this."

"It's our pleasure. Being a Deputy Director at DoJ is a big deal. I'm proud of you."

"Aww, you're going to make me cry."

"Please. Besides, you can't cry; Mark has someone he wants you to meet."

"Ohhh no...you're fixing me up? I just remembered I have to wash my socks tonight."

"You trust Mark, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Pouting doesn't suit you, baby cakes. Come join the party."

We walked through the house, stopping in the kitchen to grab a glass of wine. People congratulated me as we went. When we reached the backyard, Erik asked for everyone's attention. He proposed a toast to me. As everyone was raising their glasses, I noticed a woman in an embroidered turquoise peasant blouse who I didn't know. She had wavy brown hair that reached her shoulders, and a dazzling smile. If that was my potential date, I was all for it.

To be continued....