Turning A New Leaf

Nine

Jillian lived in a modern split-level home with a rooftop deck in West Seattle. It wasn't a sprawling mansion or anything but it appeared to be spacious and fairly new. Krist could only imagine how high the rent must be and wondered what the fuck this broad did for a living to afford it.

"Nice place," Krist remarked as they walked up the stairs to Jillian's front door. His anxiety was flaring up, he wished he'd smoked before leaving Atira's.

Jillian opened the frosted glass door, "You made it!" she told Atira, hugging her warmly.

Despite the smile on her face and the tone of her voice, Krist knew a bitch when he saw one. Her body language and appearance oozed "I'm better than you", the same way his brother and Brooke did.

Jillian was conventionally pretty with intentionally tousled warm brown hair that hung to her shoulders, a petite build, and large, deep-set green eyes. She wore a simple olive-green shirt dress with buttons down the front and short sleeves, paired with beige ankle boots.

Jillian glanced over at Krist, her smile faltering slightly. "You must be Krist," she said, smiling again but it didn't meet her eyes.

Krist nodded and extended his hand, "Jillian, I've heard a lot about you," he replied, returning her energy.

She put a manicured hand on Atira's back, "Well, I can't believe you are getting married already," she told her, guiding her up the short flight of stairs that led to an open living space, Krist followed a few feet behind them.

Atira looked over her shoulder, grinning at Krist, "I'm excited, it's been a long time in the making," she told her friend eagerly.

"So I've heard," Jillian replied coolly.

A small group of people were gathered in the upstairs living room, dressed in upper-middle-class hipster fashion, sipping mimosas and Bloody Marys. Atira greeted her friend group and introduced Krist as her fiance. They nodded their hellos, looking both disinterested and amused at the same time.

"That's quite the tattoo," a slightly overweight man with a lumberjack beard remarked as Krist followed Atira. Krist forced a smile and nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Do you guys want anything to drink? I can make you a mimosa, bloody Mary, and screwdriver, there's also beer," Jillian told them.

Atira exchanged looks with Krist, "I'll take a mimosa," she answered.

"Can I just get some water?" Krist asked.

Jillian looked floored, "You don't want an actual drink?" she mused.

Krist wanted to tell her he wasn't trying to be drinking at eleven in the morning but instead replied, "I'm the designated driver."

Jillian made Atira her drink and told them to help themselves to her brunch items that were set out on the marble-topped Island. It was quite the spread. There were eggs Benedict, quiche, fruit and vegetable platters, various pastries, meats, and cheeses.

"This looks hella good," Krist told Jillian as he washed his hands. Krist grabbed a plate for himself and one for Atira, adding food to each of them. He knew Atira was kind of weird about what she ate so he gave her fruits, vegetables, some meat, and a small slice of quiche.

"Thank you, babe," She told him, kissing him affectionately.

He followed her into the living room, sitting down in a wide vintage-style armchair in green crushed velvet. Atira sat on his knee, picking at her food.

The women talked eagerly about the upcoming wedding, discussing her wedding dress and whether or not there was a honeymoon-which, other than a few days at the beach, there was not. Krist ate his food quietly, nodding and laughing at appropriate times in the conversation but otherwise feeling out of place.