Blank Slate Kate

Chapter 23

"Yeah. Oh."

We sit in silence for a few moments, then I say, "So what happens now?"

"We have lunch?"

"Will that help?"

"Maybe not. But I'd like to see you. See you and not be a jerk to you. You know, for a change."

I laugh and he does too. "Think you can manage it?"

"I think so," he says. "Let me know if I don't."

Knowing I have somewhere to go makes me get out of bed and shower, then I put on the brightest clothes I can find in an attempt to brighten my mood.

When I meet him on the sidewalk outside the restaurant he chose he says, "You look nice and springy. Well, summery."

"Does the start of May count as summer?" I say, noticing that he's shaved and is wearing jeans with no holes and no clay on them and a green button-down shirt. He looks... good. Very good.

He smiles and holds out his arms to me, and I go into them as he says, "Either way, you look pretty."

I shut my eyes and hug him hard, wishing for one intensely painful moment that Ryan hadn't found me and I could still be fully Kate. I know I really am Donna but I don't feel it and I hate that.

Jake squeezes me close, then we release each other and go into the restaurant. We have a long leisurely lunch and chat about his work and put together a plan to help him sell more pieces, and he's not a jerk. But he also doesn't notice anything about my mood.

I do my best to keep my pretense going, to look calm and relaxed and happy, but sometimes I hear myself sounding so fake and I can't understand how he can't tell. But he can't.

Maybe I'm a better actress than I'd have thought.

Can I act happy long enough to actually be happy?

Or am I always going to be a cheerful shell surrounding a cracked soul?

*****

"That's a pretty pink jacket," Ryan says Friday night. "New?"

I nod. Hannah wanted to go shopping Thursday night, and I amazed both of us by how much I bought. Anything vibrant or cheerful was an instant yes from me. She tried to steer me to some more neutral pieces since they'd be more versatile but I refused every time. I wanted brightness and joy. When I got home, I threw out the gray sweater I'd been wearing when Jake found me and everything else of a similar dull color. I don't want any more gray in my life.

"You look great. Ready to go?"

I follow him out of the apartment and lock the door behind us. He's going to be staying with me tonight for the first time. I think I'm probably frightened on some level but mostly I feel dull and dim. Even the sight of his suitcase by the door as I head out, the realization I'll see him in casual clothes and maybe even in pajamas, doesn't break through my gloom.

"There, all locked," I say, willing myself to be cheerful, as he moves a few steps ahead of me to grab the door of the conveniently waiting elevator.

We walk a few blocks to the restaurant Ryan's chosen. He raves about it, about the spicy but not blindingly hot food, and I smile and give appropriate responses and then wonder how much it would hurt if I stepped in front of a passing bus.

That moment shocks me, frightens me. I've never thought I'd consider suicide, but I saw the bus coming and could just see myself doing it, stepping out into the road when the driver had no chance of stopping. Ending everything.