Kathy and Kara

Yet another teen angst story I wrote but this one was early 2000s … Again forgive any grammar and spelling errors below. Leave a comment if you like.

As I lay on my bed. Eyes open, wide awake I think of her. My goddess, sweet girl. Her eyes shining at me, her smile loving me, her hair let down gently upon her shoulder. My goddess, sweet girl. I hope one day to have her near, arms around her, her head on her pillow, next to mine. My goddess, sweet girl. Singing to me softly. A beautiful, gracious melody, light notes, hummed perfectly. My goddess, sweet girl. One day I’ll wake from this dream to see her facing me, smiling sleepily. My goddess, sweet girl. Her soft brown eyes, golden blonde hair, and features no one can share. My goddess, sweet girl.

Sing to me again, O’sweet one, sing to me your song with lace and swirl. Notes so high, carefully planned words. O’ my goddess, my sweet girl.

Grant me one wish, lover of nights, see to it I dream of her no more in the reality I live. Give me a chance to make my job here complete. Give me a task to fulfill and do one more thing for me, lord of stars and moon, give me a heart, loving and casual, so I will be known for not careless tales, but for lover’s leap long and shrill.

Gorgeous moon, bright starry sky, wonders beheld, crafts no longer. My goddess, sweet girl died of drinking and pills, they say. But broken heart, I know the truth, she wasted away of her own free will. Her pitiless family, wanting to do nothing for her, blamed her lover for their lost life. O’ Goddess of light, sweet wonderful girl, why did you leave me, alone, abandoned, crying out of sin. My goddess, sweet girl. Gracious are your touches, lips and hands…

I put my book down, looked out to the crowd. I’ve no more, I said with a sigh and stepped down. As I took the first step of the stairs, I heard clapping in the back of the room. Soon as I started walking through the crowd, the clapping became more and more. The once quiet room was now full of thunderous clapping. I stopped in the middle of them all, looking around, seeing smiles upon their faces. I smile back in a thanking way then continue towards the entrance.

Once outside the door, I was greeted with a darkened hallway and silence. Granted that it was well past midnight, usually there were always people around, mostly people to ignore you. I would’ve turned around but going back in there made my heart beat furiously. Might’ve been the fact everyone in there adored me and my work, or maybe the feeling the building as a whole gave me… I sighed, wishing only to go home.

“Miss Kara?” a hardened voice said from behind me. I turned to find Jacob Garrison standing there, hands in his pockets and a somber look on his face. You’d think that the promotion he received at the newspaper would make him happy, but you never know. You hardly see lowly, yet recognized reporters become a high chief because of a report given by the company president. Well I know I haven’t, I thought.

“What do you want? Maybe to gloat over your big promo?” I snapped bitterly. I seen him shift his weight a bit and look away then back to me. He opened and closed his mouth as if to say something but continued to stop himself. “Well? I don’t have all night,” I said impatiently, getting tired of the high heeled shoed I had on.

“Randy,” he began, using my pen name, “I’m very sorry. I feel bad that Kathy died and…” He paused, putting a hand to his mouth as he took in a shuddering breath. “Forgive me,” his voice sounded lost as he turned away.

I began to step forward then stopped. Forgive him for what? For the years he despised me while winning his sisters heart over him? “Goddess, Jake,” I threw my hands in the air, “you put me through hell…”

“I know,” he said, interrupting me, turning to show his face full of pain and fear. “I made the past six years a miserable hell for you. I couldn’t take the looks or talks with her when you were together. When you left her, she was depressed and… she loved you so much, Kara. She felt her life end when you packed your things and left. I made her kill herself because I made you leave.”

This time I stepped forward, “You transferred me to London! You gave me a false review to show at my new job, you made it so easy, except you wouldn’t let her come with.” He closed his eyes and nodded. I shook my head, “Why did you do it this way? Everything would be fine if you didn’t get that promotion.” I turned away to leave but Jake caught my arm gently.

“I wanted you,” he confessed, slowly pulling his hand from my arm, “I wanted and loved you so much, I couldn’t bare seeing you two. She was my sister.”

I could tell then that the ceremony was ending and wish I’d already left. I looked at Jake with a sigh then looked away. “Look. I loved your sister with everything I was. Was,” I repeated, empathizing the word, “I found out she committed suicide while I was having a wonderful yet lonely night out. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Now everything will be different. Randy Grante will no longer be a writer. Kara von Raeth will no longer be known. Do you know that what I read in there was the last of my work. No more!”

He sighed and nodded, “I’ll see that your papers are signed and sent to Mr. Klein. I really hope it’s worth it, Kara. I really do.” Before I could say anything, he turned to go back into the auditorium and was gone.

All I could do was stand in the silence, alone. I stared at the door a moment then turned down the hallway and mindlessly walked. Once outside, the summer breeze took me from my trance. Almost dawn and no cabs, I thought carelessly. With a soft sigh I turned towards the direction my house was in and began to walk. The clicking of my shoes echoed through the emptiness. A few times I thought I had heard something but turned out to be either a cat or someone opening a window.

“Uptown Knox,” I said to myself softly, laughing on the inside at the joke. Kathy loved this part of town, mostly because of all the stores and her favorite coffee café, Café de la Chance. I sigh softly as I come up to the café window to see the owner, Boris, up and bustling. I gently tapped the window to get his attention.

After he let me inside, Boris greeted me with cheek kisses and a warm hug, then sat me at the counter. “You look tired, Ma Aime. Here, a cup on the house,” he said putting a cup of creamed coffee, my favorite, in front of me. His accent gave me the feeling of being home again in London. I used to travel back and forth between Paris and London for work, it was the greatest.

“Boris?” I said, needing to say something, looking into my coffee.

“Yes, Petite Belle?” he answered, cleaning a cup with his apron.

I sighed, “I actually came to say goodbye.”

He sat the cup on the counter next to the others and then leaned against the bar-top. “Au revior, Petite Belle? Mais pourquoi? You are needed and will be missed.”

I shook my head gently, fighting the tears wanting to come, “I can’t take this life without Kathy. She meant everything to me. She was my muse, my love, me.”

“Non, Ma Amie. She was jus’ Kathy, like I am jus’ Boris and you are jus’ Kara,” his voice was angry but full of compassion. He reached up and put a hand to my cheek, speaking now fully compassionate and caring, “Petite Belle, you have so much life to live yet. You’re what 25? Heh?”

I nodded then looked at him, “I’ve lost my skill when I lost her.”

“Non… Sweet Belle, you lost nothing. Your heart is preserving your skill while your mind mourns.” He smiled then pulled his hand away, “You know what?”

“What?” I said tiredly, watching him by happy.

“I suggest you go visit France with moi!” he said joyfully, clapping his hands together once loudly.

“No, Boris, I couldn’t. Who will take care of the shop?”

“Mon fil. He’s old enough and won’t be doing anything. Anyways, he doesn’t like planes and boats take too long, so I told him to stay. I’d be very pleased if you’d join me, Petite Belle,” he looked at me hopefully.

I smiled, “It does sound very pleasant. I was also beginning to miss France and England. Yes.”

He put his hands together again with a smile then kissed both of my cheeks, “C’est bon! We leave on Monday, so you have six days. OK?”

I smiled and nodded. It was as if he read my mind, I thought to myself. I smiled as I watched him prance around happily, singing an old French song I remembered hearing a few months ago. I looked back to my coffee, thinking. Boris was a good and loving friend, but he seemed troubled through his happy stupor. I wish I knew what it was. As if I had an unexcitable mood he jumped at me playfully trying to scare me. I smiled anyways though it didn’t work. Again I sighed as he went on his way merrily, thinking more about Kathy and Jacob rather than France.

Later that day… I could’ve sworn I hadn’t left Boris’ café but two hours ago, yet it was almost 5 p.m., I thought as I awoke sitting on my rough rocking chair, looking at the clock. I was still in my dress, but was glad that the painful shoes were by the door of the loft, which was still open to show the elevator. I remember leaving the café at about 8:30 but everything after that was completely forgotten. Must’ve zoned out, I though as I yawned and stretched.

Groaning I lifted myself from my baby-like position and walked to the stairs that led in a spiral to what I call my bedroom. My bedroom, I sighed as I made my way up the steps of cold steel. Once I felt the carpet flooring I stopped and looked around. My king-size bed against the wall opposite of where I was standing. Beautiful stained wood floor under my Russian made run. A fireplace built into the far right wall, a bathroom that had a tub large enough for three to the left of me. My home. The red oak of my dresser almost melts into the floor with the way Kathy had painted it. Every piece of furniture in the loft was like that, seemed that Kathy was obsessed with things that went together.

I smiled softly, thinking of the first few weeks we lived here. We painted everything so it looked like the furniture was built from the floor. She’d flick paint at me while I wasn’t looking then act innocent when I’d look at her. Her beautiful brown eyes, hair full of paint and smiling like a little five year old who was caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. That image stuck in my mind as I continued my quest to my wardrobe in the bathroom.

As I stripped from my satin gown and other under garments, I ran myself a steaming hot bath. I stood naked looking at the tub, with my arms around myself. The lights were off except the softer lighted lamps that are built into the bathtub and one blueberry scented candle. I reach down to turn the faucet off then slowly slips into the now full tub.

I feel the water flow over my legs as I sit then up over my breast as I lean back some. Sometimes I wished my hair was longer, then again having it bobbed, as they called it in the sixties, there wasn’t any hassle with many everyday things. The coolness of the tub against my neck felt good along with the hotness of the water. It seemed to envelop my body as a whole yet only part of me was covered.

I reached for the soap to find a small item on the edge of the tub I held it up in front of me so I could see what it was. Never thinking about it clearly, I recognized the item as one of Kathy’s barrettes. I ran my fingers over the design as if remembering a time I’d seen her wear it in her long blonde hair.

That’s when the tears came…

“Kara,” Kathy said softly as she ran her fingers through my hair. We were sitting in the tub, her behind me with a leg on either side of me. “I think you should grow your hair out a little so I can play with it like you play with mine.”

I smiled, reaching back to grab one of her hands only to kiss the space between the first finger and thumb, then let her continue to her task, “Maybe one day but I’m on a low maintenance budget and time schedule. With my new novel being published, bookstore reviews, interviews, and writing another novel. I really haven’t the time to fuss with my hair.”

She giggled softly as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling my naked body against her own. She rested her chin on my shoulders and spoke into my ear softly, “My angelic baby is going to become a three time Nobel winner, but that isn’t why I love her. Oh, no,” she kissed below my ear, “I love her for her inside beauty and the inspiration she gives me for my art.”

“I love you, too, Kathy.”

“I love you, too,” I repeated in a whisper to the water. I was now on my side, clutching the metal barrette in my hand. My eyes were closed against the light, so I drifted. Clearing my mind of Kathy and my surroundings except the water and candle scent, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

With a sudden jolt I woke up coughing water. I’d fallen completely asleep. Enough to not notice if I was getting further into the water though. Since the water was becoming cold, I climbed out, grabbed my robe and slipped it on, then made my way out to my bedroom. Once through the door, I headed towards the fireplace and began to build a shallow but warm fire.

I sat on the floor, as I have many nights before, and stared at the flames.

Kathy smiled as she put her brush to the canvas. Being almost completely naked except for a light, see-through sheet over my hips, I smiled back with a small blush. “Come on, Kara, smile more. I’m almost done.”

I smiled gently for her. From my point of view the fire lit up her hair, her whole figure was lined with glowing light. So beautiful she is, I thought, her pale skin lit by the fire like so.

“Jus’ about done,” she said as she dabbed her brush in the paint and brushed the canvas again, “There. All done. Come look, Kara. You’re beautiful.”

I crawled over after grabbing my robe and looked at the painting. I gasped softly at the major resemblance and the beauty. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, feeling her scoot nearer and wrap her arms around my waist, “I wish I could write as good as you paint.”

“We have our differences for the single reason of individuality. Your writing is as good as my art. Heck, you could take the paint from the canvas and put the whole thing into words. I could never do that, but I could probably take your words and paint them.”

I shook my head, “If I could do that, then my work would be better than yours, and that isn’t fair.” I turned my head to look at her, smiling. Her face was so beautiful, and then I closed my eyes as she leaned in and kissed me.

I could feel tears roll down my face as the last image of the memory faded from my mind.

Knock, knock, knock! Someone was at the door.

“Hello? Anyone home?” It was Jake.

I sighed, wiped my eyes, then stood up and walked to the balcony over looking the rest of the house. Jacob was standing just inside the door with a box under one arm. He was dressed in his normal street clothes with his Cowboys cap on backwards. “I’m here,” I said softly, making him look up towards me.

“Good. We need to talk and…”

“Not now,” my voice soft, barely audible.

He set the box down, took his coat and shoes off which were wet, then made his way to the steps. “I just came by to see how you were. Plus with the power out on this side of the city, I though I’d bring you some food,” he stopped at the top of the stairs, looking at me in my robe still, his voice becoming gentle and caring “Are you alright?”

I shook my head, my eyes off to the side, trying to hold back the tears. “I come home to a house we shared. Every single things reminds me of her,” I said, my voice hurting, “I didn’t notice how much time had gone by or even pretend to know.”

He walked up to me and took me into his arms, gently holding my body. His hand held the back of my head lightly as I cried into his shirt. “Shh,” his voice was soothing to me, “it’ll be alright.”

We stood there for a while, him soothing my tears, me relaxing with my surroundings. Everything was quiet as we made our way down to the kitchen where he unloaded a complete dinner from the box he had brought with him. “Pasta primavera with a light wine and breadsticks,” he announced in a false accent, getting a small smile from me.

We ate in silence, little bit by little bit. He watched me push a meatball around in the sauce before putting my fork down to pick up my glass for a sip of the sweet, tangy liquid. “You look tired,” he said as he cleared the table, “I’ll clean this up, so you can go lay down.”

I nodded, though really didn’t hear him, and then stood up. Slowly I walked to and up the stairs, then to my bed, stripping of my robe and climbed in under the covers. Sleep swept over me quickly once my eyes closed, but it wasn’t dreamless.

“Kathy!” I yelled aloud. I was in the middle of the woods. I was out of breath from running and screaming were doing or even why we were here. I was panicking, my heart was beating against my rib cage and lungs, and my mind was racing.

Where was Kathy? She was just with me, wasn’t she? I don’t remember. Tears were beginning to sting my cheeks as I went to my knees. “Kathy,” I said softly, crying softly into my hands.

“Kara,” Jake’s voice broke through my sleep, “wake up, Kara.” My eyes shot open and I jumped up in the bed, the covers falling from my body, and my breath coming in short gasps. Jake was sitting on the edge of the bed with a worried look on his face. “It was a dream,” he repeated over and over, smoothing my hair back and brushing my cheek. At that moment I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook and cried. His shirt was off, though in my mind I knew he was sleeping on the floor.

Slowly I calmed again, but didn’t pull away. Lightning flashed, quickly lighting the loft through the windowed roof, while thunder clapped gently to pulse through everything short seconds at a time. “Will you lay beside me while I sleep?” I asked in a soft whisper.

“But,” he stumbled over words.

“Please,” my voice shaking, “I need something to be against. Maybe hold me.”

He nodded pushing me away enough to move the covers before slipping in beside me. He held me close till I fell asleep against his chest. This time it was a dreamless, restful sleep.

When I woke up, I was alone and the loft was quiet. It was dimly lit because the horizontal blinds were closed, from the automatic timer that was set. The clock on the wall above the bed read 6:25 with the multicolored second hand passing the number seven. My body felt worn and tired, but I myself was very much awake.

“Kara?” He was still here.

“Yeah. I’m awake,” I said loudly. I slowly got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom where I dressed in a pair of flannel pants and a light tang-top, then started towards and down the steps.

Jacob was in the studio where all of Kathy’s artwork was and my writing studio in one corner. With his hands in his pockets, he acted as if studying her paintings but was only staring, teary eyed at beauty.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking at him.

“She could paint,” he finally said after a long silence.

I nodded and searched the paintings for my favorite. There it was, in the corner: a beautiful oil painting of an ocean shore. The lighthouse in it was set on a crumbling cliff, the storm clouds full of lightning, and the single small form of a child standing alone on the cliff opposite of the lighthouse. It evoked fear, loneliness, and sadness. The picture itself made me want to reach out and save the little child while crying.

“She always had you in her pictures,” Jake’s voice broke through my haze.

“She was a wonderful painter,” I whispered before turning and walking from the room.

“Why do you do that?” he started following me.

“Do what?” I asked, looking… no I glanced back at him quickly, then stared at the grand fireplace that was built into the wall of the living room.

“That. You are trying not to look at me. Are you scared?”

I turned around, frustrated, “Yes! I’m scared! Every time I look at you, I see her!”

He avoided eye contact and started towards the door, “I’ll go then.”

I sighed, closing my eyes, “Jake. Wait.”

“Yes?” his voice drawn out and hurt.

I turned half ways to see him out of the corner of my eye, “I’m sorry for going off like that. I didn’t have the right.”

“Can I ask you a question, Kara?” his back was turned to me but he continued anyways, “Why did you love her so much?”

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself tighter, “She lit a flame in me that we shared. Now can I ask a question of you? Since we were in college, when we met, have you always loved me?”

His head bowed slightly, “Actually, when you began your job at the newspaper. You have confidence, care, and beauty, but you seen nothing in me. It was like you used me to get to my sister.”

“No,” I whispered, “I didn’t use you or Kathy.”

“I’ve gotta go,” he said going to the door, grabbing his coat and shoes and closing the elevator door behind him.

I couldn’t help but yell aloud, madly. I was frustrated, afraid, and very confused. I slumped to the floor onto my knees, feeling fully exhausted and disgusting inside. I was being a total fathead, I thought to myself. I shifted to a position where I could hug my legs and closed my eyes.

Around noon I woke up sore and suddenly scared. I was in my bed under the covers and there was someone down stairs. I slid out of my bed and silently walked to the balcony.

“And! This a bunny cooked the carrots off and on all day,” a voice sung from below, half in Italian.

The smell of food and the sound of the voice lured me nearer. I knew the voice but couldn’t name the person. It was a man, but I don’t have many male friends, especially ones that sing Italian songs. I made my way silently towards the kitchen, pushing the door open to see a young blonde haired man walking around the kitchen as he cooked. I couldn’t see the face clearly, till he looked at me and rushed at me.

Opening his arms, he said, “Kara! Lovely sister!” He opened the door fully and took me up into a tight embrace.

I giggled, “Lenny, you scared me.” He let go after a moment then kissed both of my cheeks as I said that I had forgot he was coming to stay.

“Don’t worry about it. I heard of all the things going on and assumed you forgot big bro was coming to see his baby sister. When I found you on the floor, curled up, I put you into bed. Since you were so light I decided to fix up Ma’s fattening calzone and meatballs for lunch. So! You hungry?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, he didn’t know he had sauce on his forehead and nose or that seeing him was so nice at the moment. I nodded, giggling still as he made a confused look then laughed along and hugged me again.

After a wonderful and satisfying lunch that my brother cooked, we settled down with my Papa’s famous tea and caught up on three years that we hadn’t spoke. He told me how his wife was, his baby boy, and the rest of the family. Ma and Papa were in Italy for an annual five generation family reunion. Our brother, Steven, and his wife were going to have a baby girl, while Christi, our older sister, had twins about two months prior. Being the youngest of four doesn’t always seem so fun, but I was the best loved.

“Kara?” Lenny said after we’d talked about almost everything.

“Hmm?” I kept looking into my tea cup, knowing he was going to bring up Kathy.

“Are you going to auction off her paintings? If so…” he fidgeted in his chair a moment then didn’t say anything.

I sighed, “Right now I won’t even think about it. Mary Lyn and Gustavo want to do an open gallery in Kathy’s memory.” I leaned forward to pour myself some more tea, “though after that I believe the museum wants to buy all of her work, from sketches to finished paintings, which are all here.”

“The family in Rome wants some of the best paintings at the manor. They want you to pick them,” he said firmly before sipping his cup of tea.

I looked at him then back to what I was doing. “Lenny? Could you… I mean…” I fumbled for words. I took a deep breath and started over, “Do you think you could pick them out for me?”

“No,” his voice still firm.

“Why not?” I protested, somewhat beginning to cry.

“Granpapa and Granmama want you to pick them. She was your wife after all,” this time his voice was gentle and caring.

I sighed then leaned back again after putting four cubes of sugar into my tea. They want me to choose? They never really enjoyed her work or anything.

“Kara-bear, you know how much you mean to the family. You were always the favorite, yet you don’t let us have a bit of you to have around. You can do that by sharing her art with you in it with us.”

“I’m in almost all of the paintings. They are all good,” I paused with a deep breath, “I can’t choose out of them, that’s why I asked for your help.”

He looked at me, his brotherly love and caring in his eyes, “Alright. We can choose them in the next few days and I’ll bring them home with me when I leave Saturday.”

I nodded silently, telling myself I was going to have a long week. The open house is on Friday, so afterwards we can pick maybe five or six paintings to go to Rome. I looked to my brother, who was smiling and humming to himself, and giggled softly, “Do you always hum that song?”

He nodded, “Why shouldn’t I? I’m in my little sister’s house, who may I remind made this song up when we were young.”

“I know. I’ve forgotten most of it, yet still find it funny you do considering you’re older,” I smiled.

I, Kara-Bear, have children I watch. I taught them the whole thing,” he said while doing his “high majesty” look.

I picked up a pillow and threw it at him, barely missing his head. Laughing, we put our tea down and started a pillow war. Pillows of all sorts and sizes were flying over the Venetian couch and the American made love seat of my living room.

Suddenly the buzzer for the front door sounded. I raced to the door and pushed the “talk” button, and said, “Pizza Hut was relocated, so what do you want?”

“Randy, Sweetheart, it’s your favorite man,” the voice was crackly but Gustavo’s voice was unmistakable, so I pushed the button to open the door, then walked back to the couch. Lenny was sitting in his chair, grinning at me and drinking his tea with an “I won” look in his eyes.

Before sitting down I stuck my tongue out at him then giggled at his reaction. Since my tea was cold and I was getting tired, I just sat there, waiting. The elevator had always been slow, and I knew Gustavo had a thing with jumping and cursing the thing as it crawled up the shaft. You could hear him yelling and throwing fits. He is so impatient, I said to myself with a smile when I heard a loud slam as he jumped again.

Lenny was trying hard to contain his laughter. His eyes were beginning to water and he had set his cup down again so not to spill it. Suddenly his eyes lit up, jumping from his chair with an ugly green pillow in his hand, he walked to the door and from my point of view was aiming to his Gustavo in the head. The pillow disappeared and moments later, Gustavo yelled up the shaft, annoyed. Lenny, however, got halfway to the couch before falling to the ground. Laughing.

I couldn’t help but giggle. It was funny, I had to admit it. I hadn’t had this much fun since Kathy died. Way before Kathy died, I said to myself with a sigh, closing my eyes…

I was laughing too hard, but Kathy wouldn’t quit. Tears were in my eyes and my ribs were hurting. She was getting ready for her big part in the play “Cat got your thumb?” by a new screenwriter. A comedy play that was already a big hit in town. Anyways, Kathy’s part was a lost, mischievous child who liked kittens. She was walking around giggling playfully and saying her lines in the cutest voice possible.

“Stop, Kathy, please,” I fell off my chair, laughing harder.

“Alright,” she giggled and sat next to me while I calmed. Her hair lightly brushed her shoulders as she leaned down and kissed my cheek gently and lingering. “You know what? Gustavo wants me to draw a picture for the museum’s grand opening.”

“That’s great!” I said, looking up at her.

“One problem,” her voice was troubled, “they want a nude portrait.”

I looked at her and started giggling, “Where are you going to get a model? I’m sure Caroline r Robin would do it, heck they’d do anything for you.”

She was thinking, I could tell by her eyes. She smiled then, brushing my cheek, “Well. They’d be willing but they aren’t what or who I had in mind. I need someone who can trust me. Who isn’t afraid of showing off.”

I shook my head, she was going to ask me.

“Please, Kara?” she began to pout. “You’d be the perfect subject, and anyways it’ll be fun!”

Fun, I thought. Gustavo was rambling on and on about how he was going to set the whole gallery as Lenny and I nodded our heads sleepily and agreed. “You’re barely old enough to be a writer, but that’s not stopping you,” he said suddenly.

“What does that have to do with Kathy’s paintings?” I asked, confused.

“Nothing. Just that I can’t wait for your…”

“Stop,” I stood up slowly. There was anger in my voice and in me, “there will be no more writing. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed now. Lenny, the spare room is made and stuff.” On my way up the steps, I stopped and looked at the two, “Goodnight.” Then made my way up the stairs.

I tapped the button to close the curtain that goes along the balcony to make my bedroom enclosed. I stood there with a soft sigh before walking to my desk and sitting. There, on my desk, was an envelope, no name or writing on it. I bit my lip as I picked the letter up and opened it. A two page letter was folded neatly inside. I feared what it was but still opened and read it.

My dearest Kara,

I know that it wasn’t your choice to go, nor did I have a choice but to stay. You probably won’t get this in the mail, so I’m going to just leave it here where I know you’ll find it.

There were days I had hoped I’d see you, or be able to talk to you again, but I suppose that won’t happen. I wish things were like they used to be. When we were happy and… well when things were better. I miss you so much, Kara, so very much. I am always wondering what you might be doing, or if you think about me. Have you been writing lately? I remember the times when you’d read to me.

Oh, Kara, will you ever come back? I miss you and wish you were here…

I read the rest with teary eyes. She wrote on the last page that she started another painting, one she couldn’t finish.

My final painting is hidden but I know you can find it. Can you do me a favor and finish it? Not with paints or anything, just words. That I know you can do. You’re my Kara, you can do anything. Anything at all, because I love you.

I sat the letter down before reading the rest and began to think of where the painting could be. I don’t remember seeing anything new or unfinished in the studio. I pondered and thought about where she could’ve did it when I looked at the mirror above my desk. There in the reflection was something I don’t remember seeing before. I turned to look and above the fireplace was a half finished painting. It looked like the beginning of a sunrise yet there was flowers all over in the colors. Many shaped from birds and clouds, and at the bottom was a cliff with a single figure, outlined by the sunrays, reaching for something. That’s when I noticed another figure, half sketched and barely finished. Looked like an angel. It’s wing that was sketched was like a border for the painting. His head was tilted back some, arms spread in front of his wings, and his legs were lined with the sunlight, almost as if his skin was metallic.

I walked closer for a better view. It was a beautiful painting. The figure on the cliff was wearing a torn white dress, her hair was short and medium brown. There was water about her feet, some was splashing up from the unseen water below. I began to wonder why I hadn’t noticed the painting before, but figured I’d been too tired to notice. I was captivated by the image. Emotions kept raiding my mind over and over, words came just as fast. I stared at the painting then something came to mind. I ran to my desk and got my tape recorder.

Record. “Angel’s wings surround my rocky world, sunrise, dawn, sundown, dusk. My arms, spread to him, my eyes, staring at him,” I paused, stopping the recorder. I need to write a book. A book to honor her, my Kathy. I hit the rewind button and again stared at the painting…

“Hey Kara?” Kathy yelled from upstairs.

“Yeah,” I was cooking and was trying to stir three things at the same time.

“Do you think I should start another painting?” she said, standing at the kitchen door.

I shrugged as I added some spices to the bubbling sauce, “I guess if you really think you have the inspiration and will to, but I won’t say no, Kathy, you shouldn’t. That’d be like telling you your work sucks major ass.”

She giggled, “You’re right. Yep. You are absolutely right. I’m gonna do it. Gonna paint a morel.”

I dropped the spoon I was holding and looked at her, “Where?!”

She lifted her hand and pointed towards the balcony, “Well, right there, Lovely. You’re burning the sauce, darlin’.”

I resumed stirring and cooking, trying to figure out what to say.

“Well,” she said coming up behind me. Her hand reached out and turned each burner off then turned me around to face her.

I shrugged, “I’m not stopping you. Truth is, I think you should do it.”

She smiled her smile, kissed my nose, and walked away, not saying a word.

I opened my eyes to the morning light and the noise of the blinds shutting. I covered my eyes till I knew the blinds were closed then stood up. I had fallen asleep on the floor while the tape recorder was in my hand. I noticed the tape was finished and I don’t even remember pressing record. Curious I rewound the tape and played it. At first there was static then my half good poem I began then it went blank. I really didn’t think anything was on it till some noise started. It was a whisper with some static, but before I could listen to anymore, something made me stop the tape. For maybe twenty minutes I sat there in a thinking state, face gone blank and oblivious to everything around me.

“Kara?” Lenny’s voice was soft, “Kara, is something wrong?” he was on the stairs, sitting close to the top step, maybe a few steps down.

I didn’t turn, flinch or move, as if frozen in thought, or scared to move. “Things were going so wonderfully not too long ago. Kathy was just finishing the morel on the balcony and my book was making good money. She had a gracious smile and believed in me. When I got here before the convention, I went straight to the studio. First I seen was of depression. The woman sitting in the garden with that beautiful rose bed in her hand…” I paused, remembering how vibrant the red was for the rose, “She caught a lot of emotion into that picture.”

I heard Lenny shift around on the step. He was silent for a long time, then said, “She had a gift.” His words bore into the picture I had in my mind. She had a gift…

I say on the couch and began watching Kathy. She was on the floor in front of her easel, painting. She was painting with a small brush, her fingers, and a sponge. As I watched her I couldn’t help but marvel at the way her hands and fingers moved. The painting was a self-portrait of herself; eyes closed, lips pursed slightly, and a wisp of hair over her pale cheek as if sleeping.

Her hand moved up, middle finger touched the canvas and traced the chin, making it more visible with a grayish paint. She didn’t need a mirror either, her own hands traced small areas of her face before she placed a paint covered brush, finger, or sponge to the canvas. It was her talent. Her gift.

She could trace a line of your face and be able to put it almost perfectly on to paper or in this case, canvas. If she were blind, she’d be an extraordinary painter. It’d be a miracle t a lot of people, specially my mame, who is a prioress of a convent in southern Spain. She is a miracle though, Kathy was an angel, gift and goddess from those who watch over the world as it spins.

“Kara, You almost ready?” Lenny yelled from downstairs.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I had my favorite blue evening gown on, all diddied up with make-up, jewelry, and just staring at myself. “Just about. Go ahead to the museum, I’ll be right behind you,” I replied, dazed.

“Alright. Call a cab if you need to,” he said before shutting the elevator door. I listened as I heard the motor of the elevator screech to a halt at the bottom. Alone… I was now alone.

I got up and made my way down the stairs to the studio. All the paintings but one were gone. When I switched on the lights, that one painting stood out on the wall. It was one that Kathy painted when we were in Paris. It was of a lake side gazebo we would sit in at night. There were two figures in the building that stood out.

“My poor Kara,” a voice said in almost a whisper. Kathy’s voice.

I didn’t even feel scared, just replied, “I’m so incomplete and worthless without you.”

A hand touched my cheek, or so I thought. “Sweet Kara, you are worth so much more than the universe to your family, right now. They will always be there for you, no matter what.”

I closed my eyes, “I need you, Kathy.” I took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself, “You remember Paris? The gazebo, the trees, and the water? It was a beautiful day, wasn’t it? A warm June afternoon, the sun was shining, and the sky was the prettiest shade of baby blue ever.” I opened my eyes and looked at the painting, waiting for an answer I knew wouldn’t come. I turned the lights off and sighed.

The door buzzer went off about then. When I answered, Jake was downstairs to pick me up. I stepped into the elevator, then once at the base floor, I got out to see Jake waiting outside the security door. I stopped when he looked at me and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back and tell myself, ‘tonight is going to be fine.”

Once at the museum, I was greeted with compliments, hugs, and congratulations. Lenny took me around the exhibit to show that a lot of people loved Kathy’s work, and even appreciated it al to it’s full extent. Gustavo announced that the paintings are all going to be sent to famous museums in Rome, Paris, and London, to have her art become almost completely worldwide.

There were so many people who knew Kathy that came. Since high school, Kathy had been keeping in touch with her best friend, Cory, whom I’ve never met before. She sent him pictures of her and I, but never once had I seen him, till tonight.

“Hi. You’re Randy Grante, right?” a young man asked politely. He had light hair and grayish eyes.

I nodded, “Yes, but call me Kara, it’s my real name.” I held my hand out, “And you are?”

He took my hand firmly and smiled, “Cory, Kathy’s pen pal from Alaska.” He noted my surprised and kissed the back of my hand lightly.

“I thought you lived in Sydney,” I pulled my hand from his, “or some place in Peru.”

He nodded, “I travel a lot. I am a photojournalist for big magazines.” He paused, held his elbow out for me, “Let’s talk. I don’t bite.” I giggled as I wrapped my hand around his arm and we made our way into the museums courtyard.

“Kathy always wrote about you in her letters,” he said once outside.

“Oh? Like what?” curiously, and to my surprised it didn’t hurt inside.

He chuckled, “Oh, like how pretty you are or what you were doing at the moment she was writing. It was actually quite amusing.”

“I suppose you and her had fun at school and all before she met me,” I watched the night sky.

He watched me, I felt his eyes on me. “We never went to school together. Truth, umm, we’ve actually never met in person or even talked over the phone. It’s kind of sad really. Being best friends and all.”

I didn’t even think to look at him when he began to pull away. I just stood there, dumbfounded.

“We started writing each other when she was in, I think, seventh grade. I don’t remember how she got my address, but she wrote at least four letters before I could reply,” he chuckled softly, “I even have all the letters she wrote.”

I smiled, thinking that if he could’ve thrown them all away, he wouldn’t have.

He turned towards me, “I even have her last one.” He reached inside his coat and brought out a letter, looked at it quietly, then held it out to me. “She kept repeating to me in this letter to be strong for you and take care of you. If you want, you can have this one. It could explain a lot about what happened.”

I stared at the paper, a tear in my eye. When I took the letter, my hand began shaking and the tear rolled down my cheek. Slowly I opened it, turning from Cory and read the letter…

Dearest Cory,

Today after mailing this, I’m going to commit suicide. I know you’ll argue my decision but please understand what I’m going through. My paintings are becoming depressed and ugly. My house is messy and I’m not motivated enough to clean it. I sit in the dark all day and eat only bread, if that, even though my kitchen if full of food.

Right now I’m sitting at her desk, writing this with her pen, on her paper. It’s all I have left of love. Of her, that is. I really hope she’s alright, Cory. Please write her and take care of her. She deserves it.

When Jakey told me she was transferred, I hated her for going. Maybe that’s why she did it? If she didn’t take it, I would’ve been mad, and I was mad that she did take it. Tell her that I’m sorry for hating her. I love her so much. Please take really good care of her when I’m gone.

Cory, can you also understand that it wasn’t your fault or Randy’s? you both mean so much to me. Mom and Dad are asking, bugging and getting on my nerves even though I told them to leave me alone. They think I am wasting away. Ha! Imagine that. My parents never cared after I didn’t do as they wanted me to.

Well, It’s almost time. Take care, Cory. Don’t forget me and take care of Randy for me. You should get this when you get back to Alaska.

I’ll be waiting!

Your bestest friend,

Kathy A. Garrison

I made my way to one of the stone benches and sat down, eyes closed. Cory put a hand on my shoulder lightly, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t cry or even feel a thing, I just sat there quietly.

Everything to Kathy was falling apart. Her life lost meaning in her eyes.

“Thank you, Cory,” I whispered folding the letter again and holding it out to him.

He took it, put it in his pocket then sat beside me, “I’m moving into town here in a few weeks, got a job with a photo company. So If you need anything.”

I nodded. Only nodded. As if scared to do any other thing, even talk. My voice wouldn’t work nor my motivation. He sighed then left without a word, leaving me to dwell on things racing in my empty thoughts. Everything was saying something and yet I couldn’t understand them so they faded. Was it meant to be this way? I looked to the stars, which were barely visible with the city lights.

Was it meant to be this way? Was Jake meant to hate me so much? Did she love me as much as I did her? Can I now follow her? My work is done. I didn’t know.

Dear Journal

It’s been a week since Lenny left and being back in France bring joy to my heart. I’ve been working day and night on Kathy’s story with the use of pictures and old papers I found under the bed at the loft. This is hard to explain but the papers were of affairs Kathy had been involved with while I was gone. I count them as confessions and dismiss her plea for forgiveness. That is something she always had and shall always have.

I always wondered what it’d be like to have children with Kathy. I filed adoption papers for a little girl named Paetyn. She’s a beautiful young five year old with golden brown hair and those puppy dog eyes to match. I believe if I am able to adopt her, I’ll be a good mother. I’m going to be meeting her and one of the orphanage nuns, this’ll be our fourth time seeing each other.

Sister Marie is trying her best to see that Paetyn comes home to Tennessee with me and Boris. I remember Sister Marie from private school in Rome, we were like best friends. I’m just praying the Lady and Lord grant me a chance at a new life.

Anyways, I’ve got an appointment with a little angel named Paetyn. Thank you for listening once again.

Always — Kara

I set my pencil down and snapped my journal shut with a smile. Ring, ring went the door buzzer of my hotel room. “Just a minute,” I called out, putting the hard covered journal into my book bag on the desk.

When I opened the door, I saw the little girl holding the hand of Sister Marie, looking at me. A smile grew on each of our faces as I picked her up and hugged her close. I new have a special girl in my life to hold and love. I am getting my chance. I love you, Kathy, and thank you.

“Sister Guinevere said she had some good news for us. So she sent me and Sister Marie to pick you up,” Paetyn said as I held her in my arms and she played with my hair.

“Well I suppose we should go see her right now. Do you want to go see her?”

She nodded with an excited smile.

Sister Marie stepped forward, smiling herself, “maybe you can both go now and catch her, she’s down in the lounge waiting for you.”

With Paetyn in my arms, we walked out of the room, down the hallway to the elevator. I let her push the button and as we waited we recited the alphabet, or the part she learned earlier that day at the orphanage. Once we got down stairs, Sister Guinevere, the adoption director, met us in the middle of the room, a great smile on her face.

“I hope you two are ready for that plane ride,” was the first thing she said. And that was all she had to say. After Paetyn and I had a small celebration, the sister gave me the adoption papers and gave both of us a hug.