Their first meeting was in her garden when he was seventeen. Christian was immediately infatuated with his neighbor Kate Weber from that moment on.
His friend had thrown a frisbee into her yard, even though Christian had told him the keep the tosses light. He didn't even know that anyone was outside. The new neighbors had moved in several months prior, sometime in early May. All he knew was that it was a woman and her two sons. He hopped the fence and found the frisbee at the edge of a vegetable garden. When he picked it up, a woman popped up from behind the chicken wire and greenery. She had very light brown hair that was loosely pulled back and wore dirt-covered green overalls. That was his first sight of Kate. He gave her an awkward hello and explanation. She introduced herself with the friendliest of smiles.
Now, at twenty-one, the two of them were as close as neighbors could be. Her age doubled his, but their personalities were a match. They were both casual, introverted, and interested in literature. They would talk regularly about their latest novel, even staying in touch after Christian went off to college.
Of course, it was because he liked her. Even when union is extremely unlikely, men will do anything to be around their crushes. But she showed interest in him, if anything for his willingness to keep her company. He eventually learned that she had divorced her husband and moved next door to Christian to start over. Her boys, six and eight, spent time with both parents equally, so Kate and Christian were often alone in her house. He would often relieve himself to fantasies of their private interactions upon returning home.
While at school, he met his girlfriend, Emma. They began dating during his second year; to him it was just as much of a distraction from his neighborly infatuation as it was an attempt to find the right match. Yet Kate was never out of his mind for long.
"Have you ever visited a place so beautiful, you almost don't want to go back?" she asked suddenly.
"Huh?"
Christian shook his head. He must have gotten lost in a train of thought. He and Kate were currently sitting at the table in her backyard, in the shade of the large umbrella. It was a hot July day, and they were each on their second glass of lemonade.
Lately, he had been drifting off like this. Contemplating his thoughts and friendship with his neighbor. He enjoyed writing as much as he did reading, and he was considering writing an erotic story inspired by this relationship. Thus, he found himself thinking about exposition.
"Have you ever visited somewhere so beautiful that you almost don't want to see it again?" she repeated. Even in the shade she wore her sunglasses, as did he; she appeared to be staring right at him, but he couldn't tell.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
She shifted in her chair- into a position one enters when beginning to talk about a subject with more attention. He admired her light blue summer dress, her slight cleavage peeking at its top. "I was reading my book and there was a description about the Spanish countryside. I've never been to Spain, but the imagery of what I read was so powerful... it was almost like I was actually immersed in the beauty for a moment. And then I started thinking, you know, have I ever been to a place that I could describe in the same way?" She sat back again. "I thought for a while, and then I remembered my trip to England during my summer abroad in college. My friends and I took a trip to the Lake District, a national park. We stayed until the evening, and we watched the sunset from on top of a hill, looking over a lake. As the sky turned orange, we turned to silence and appreciation. The sun had hit the mountain just right, and the silhouettes of the birds on the orange water filled me with peace and love for the world. I remember being so taken aback by the beauty that I was almost brought to tears. I was overwhelmed with happy emotions. And now that I think about it, I wonder if going back will just disappoint me, because I might not see a sight like that again. Or maybe I'd be looking too hard."
Christian tilted his head as he tried to picture her description. He could see it: an orange lake, like an impressionist painting.
"That sounds very beautiful," he commented. She nodded solemnly.
"I don't think my recollection does it justice," she said before taking another sip of her lemonade.
"What are you reading again?"
"For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemmingway."
"Ah."
"Have you read it?"
"Not yet."
That was always the response they gave if they haven't read something. Not yet implied that they might read it someday, leaving an optimistic possibility. As usual, Kate smiled at this response.
"You should. I won't spoil it for you."
By some strange coincidence, they both looked up at a cloud. Then they looked at each other and laughed. Her laugh always filled him with unparalleled joy, just as her voice soothed him beyond anything else.
"So," she said, putting her glass down and clasping her hands, "when does Emma visit? Do I get to meet her?"
"In three weeks," he answered. "And yeah, I guess."
"You don't seem very excited about it."
"Well..." he thought for a moment but failed to come up with a satisfactory explanation. "She and I get along fine, but there's something missing. I don't know how to explain it, really."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "I meant that you didn't seem excited about her meeting me, and it was just a tease. But I'd like to hear more about this."
Christian felt hot, having misinterpreted her comment. "Oh, I thought you meant- never mind, I don't want to talk about it."
She put her elbow on the table and chin in her hand, waiting.
"Okay, fine." He exhaled. "We've been dating for about a year and a half now. My common sense says things are going well, because they are. I like her a lot. Actually, I love her. But my gut says to break up with her, because something isn't right."
"What's not right?"
His eyes flickered toward her, then away again. If neither of them had sunglasses on, perhaps that would have provided a clue. "I wish I knew," he muttered before taking a long swig of his drink. "I guess it's like what you were just talking about, in a way. We had a few great times early on, but since then I've been a little disappointed. Unsatisfied. Like I'm looking for more, but not getting it."
Somehow, Kate could bring the right words out of his mouth before he even thought them through.
"Have you talked to her about this?" she asked, chin still in hand. He shook his head. "That might be a good place to start."
"I don't know. I don't see that going well."
"Do the two of you argue often?"
"Not really, no. It wouldn't go well because if the content, I think. No, I don't think it would."
The cloud that they had been watching blocked the sun, and Kate removed her sunglasses. She looked at him with her warm brown eyes. After a moment, he two took off his glasses and looked back at her. It was an intimate moment, he thought.
"Can I take a guess?" she asked softly.
"Sure."
"Sounds to me like it's a sex issue."
He gave her a shocked look, and she returned it with a reserved grin. There was nothing he could do to deny it.
"Yeah," he whispered. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about this, especially with Kate.
"Talk to me," she said. "You know we can talk about anything."
