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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/958108-New-Edition
Rated: 13+ · Novella · Emotional · #958108
NY journalist is sent to Boston after boyfriend cheats on her
Prologue
I do not believe that we have one solitary moment in our lives that defines who we are as human beings. Numerous factors lead up to that one big moment, that trigger that sets off our course in life. For me at least, part of it has always somewhat been there, lurking, living, and breathing, waiting for me to decipher the encrypted message. It’s all around me, in everything that I do, a constant reminder of how precious our time is together.

A chain of events came directly toward me, a roaring engine pummeling down the tracks. I was blindsided. Everything was moving so fast, in this whirlwind of vibrant yet dreary colors, everything was so chaotic yet beautiful. Now, this is not that compelling, or intriguing, there are no spies or mysteries; this is just a plain, simple story about love, a love that is pure and bittersweet.

Cologne
“What is faith?”


THAT was Kate Montgomery’s newest headliner for her “Faith and Spirituality” column in Rouge Magazine, the top selling women’s magazine in the country. For the past two years, Kate had given her readers the low down on how to find faith in others and different religions, so why was this one so difficult? The screen blankly starred back at her.
Faith is

Kate sighed heavily, and turned around as Lana, the fashion editor of the magazine, tread into her office.

“Carnegie Deli in ten?”

“Make it now. Major writer’s block is taking place.” Kate grabbed her black Barney’s blazer, her designer purse and walked toward the door, with Lana at her heels.
"That bad, huh?"

“That bad? I feel like I’m in hell, but I’m stuck in line at the registrations desk.”

“Ouch.” They walked down the winding staircase, out the glass double doors, and into the muddled streets of New York.

“Yeah, tell me about it. And on top of the writer’s block that is, my mother called and wants to have lunch Saturday! How did she even know how to find me?” Kate ran her free hand through her dark brunette mane and groaned with irritation.

“Wait,” The pair crossed a street and headed down 55th Street toward the Delicatessen. “The woman who you haven’t spoken to in seven years?” They saw the flaming yellow sign, and entered the restaurant, both women realizing that this was a terrible place for a decent conversation.

“The very vixen herself, and she wants to come into the city and go shopping! It’s like she thinks that after all this time we can just be all buddy-buddy again.” They both sat down at a long, crowded table and picked up menus, both already knowing what they were going to order.

“What can I get for you two ladies?”

“The usual Derek, I’ll have the Bacon Whoopee with a Diet Coke.”

“And I’ll have the Egg and Oy with sweet tea.” Lana finished.

Derek scribbled down their orders on a tiny notebook and left the duo to continue talking. “So how’s Andrew? Is your mom going to meet him when she comes?”

“I don’t know if we’re at that stage of meeting parents and stuff, besides, I don’t want him to have to see the past that I’ve been trying to cover up for so long. And to answer your other question, he has some sort of medical seminar, and he is coming home tonight, so I think I am ‘going to surprise him.” Their conversation continued back and forth like that for the duration of their meal and on through their walk back to the office. Once there, Kate reluctantly headed back toward her awaiting computer screen, only to find that she had no new e-mails and the article had not written it’s self. At the end of the day the same two words lifelessly starred back in Kate’s direction, so she closed the document, grabbed a taxi, and headed toward her upper-west side apartment.

For a twenty-nine year old, Kate had not done that bad for herself. She had a boyfriend, an incredible job, and a great, affordable apartment in Manhattan. So what had changed? Why was she all of a sudden feeling so low? Kate ignored the thought and went to change her clothes. She chose Andrew’s favorite black Sax Fifth Avenue dress that she secretly could not breathe in, a pair of black satin sandals, and walked out the door.

Twenty minutes later, Kate walked up to the apartment of her thirty-year-old doctor boyfriend and rapped on the door. What was behind that door was not what she had expected. Before her very eyes stood Lauren, one of the nurses that Andrew worked with. Under any other circumstances this would have been a comfortable acquaintance because Kate had somewhat liked Lauren the few times that they had met. However, this was different. The Lauren that Kate had met always wore a hideous Pepto-Bismol pink hospitals uniform, not an over grown button down white collared shirt, and she undeniably never wore that well-known cologne.

Hang-Overs and Mothers
THE telephone in the unkempt dwelling rang off the hook for twenty minutes straight before the owner summoned up enough strength to answer it. She knew who it was, but she did not care. It was a quarter past one and a drilling headache had hit Kate like a Mack truck on 5th Avenue. “Hello?” the dazed voice said into the black handheld receiver.

“Katie is that you? Are you just now waking up?” It was her mother.

“Oh, hey mom. No, no I’m on my way out the door as we speak.” Kate got up off the couch, a place she did not remember falling asleep. She then walked into her bedroom and looked at her appearance in the mirror. Her once beautiful brown locks were now mousy and tangled, her piercing emerald eyes had bags under them, her lack of coherent-ness caused her previous night's make-up to be slightly caked and her dress was creased and stained from one of her many drinks the previous evening.

“You’re lying. I know you are. So, are you going to leave me sitting here at the Ritz all day, or are you going to come down here and have lunch with your mother who drove all the way out here to see you?”

Kate quickly finished the conversation with her mother and scrambled into her closet. She took a steaming shower, put her hair up in a twisty up-do, and walked out the door. She entered the Ritz Carlton fifteen minutes later, and noticed her mother instantly. “Hey mama, sorry I’m late.”

Her mother simply nodded her head and drew in Kate’s appearance: black BCBG stiletto boots, black pinstripe H&M pants, a white Macey’s boat neck sweater, and a corduroy blazer. Noting the tension at the table, Kate began to strike up a conversation. “So, how’ve you been? It’s been along time.”

“The same old thing, you know.” Debra Montgomery replied in a mono-toned voice. “I ordered drinks, I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t know how long you were going to be.”

“No mom, I don’t know. I do not know what ‘the same old thing’ is. It’s been too long for me to know.” Kate placed her menu on the table in an attempt to make eye contact with her mother.

“Katie!” Debra, too, put her menu on the table, “We are in public. How dare you make a comment to me like that?” She scolded in a hushed manner.

“Why not? It is true! We have not had a conversation that has lasted for than five minutes in over seven years. I don’t know why I bothered.” Kate pushed her chair back and stood up. “Thanks for lunch.” She picked up her purse and walked past the concierge and out the door, leaving her mother taken aback.

Reruns of Friends, old Carry Grant films, and numerous bowls of various Baskin Robin’s thirty-one flavors filled the rest of Kate’s weekend. She was no closer to finishing her article at the Monday morning staff meeting, than she was on Friday evening when she left the office, and Kirsten, the Editor and Chief of the magazine, could tell.

“Kate, can I have a word with you.” Kirsten requested as the team went scattering out of the conference room. This is just great. She knows that I am not on my game! Kate thought to herself. Kate turned away from the door and watched as Kirsten took a seat behind her desk. “Kate, please sit down.” This is not good. “We need to talk,” This is definitely not good! “It’s about your article.”

“Kirsten, I know that I haven’t made much progress, but I’m just going through a little bit of writer’s block.” Kate interjected. “It will be finished by the deadline, I promise.”

“And I understand that all writers experience it, but you don’t. Kate, you are one of my best journalists, and I cannot afford to have you slipping. So, I want you to take a break, a sabbatical of a sort. I’m sending you to Boston.” Kirsten noticed that Kate was about to question her decision, so she began to explain how the arrangement would work. “I’ll get a ghost writer, a real ‘His Girl Friday’ kind of type. She will write like you, and your readers will not miss a beat. However, while you are in Boston, I want you to relax. I want you to rekindle whatever spark you lost, and get it back. I need my Ace back behind the computer again.”

Twenty minutes later, Lana anxiously greeted Kate as she strode out of Kirsten’s office, eagerly waiting to hear what had happened. “So, spill. What did she say?”

“She wants me to take a sabbatical-- in Boston.” They walked down the hallway grabbing two Grande Mochas out of Lana’s assistant’s hands.
“Massachusetts?”
“Bean town itself.” Both women entered Kate’s office and took a seat down.

“What are you going to do in Boston?”

“Relax, apparently.” Kate took a long sip of her sweltering hot drink. “They’re setting me up with a house in some town called Medford outside the city, and I’ll get paid. It can’t be that bad, right?” Her impending house was on Cedar Road to the north of the Mystic River. When Kate had looked at the pictures that Kirsten had showed her she could not believe her eyes. The house was dazzling (in the photos, atleast) and had an amazing view of the river. It was white with an extended rap around porch and had three bedrooms, four baths, a kitchen, dinning room, office, and family room.

Kate pulled out the booklet on the house out of her bag and Lana examined it extensively, eventually approving.

“When do you leave?”

“Friday. This means that I have to find someone to rent my place too soon. You know anyone?”

“I think Sydney in PR needs a place to stay. I can see what I can do.” Lana then stood up and placed the booklet on Kate’s desk. “But I’ve got to run I’ve got a meeting with Dolce and Gabana in ten. Are we still on for dinner?”

“Um, I think I might stay in, get some
packing and stuff done."

“Okay then I might stop bye later to help. Oh, and keep Thursday night open.” Lana then walked out the door, leaving Kate to start packing up her things around the office. During this time, Kirsten walked in and the two adults discussed traveling arrangements. Kirsten decided that Kate would be leaving at ten o’clock Friday morning and her things would arrive around three that afternoon.

Bean Town
THE next three days past in a blur for Kate and before she knew it Friday was on the horizon. Kate had left Thursday free as asked, and she and Lana ended up going on a girl’s night out. Lana had arranged for Sydney to stay in Kate’s apartment while she was in Boston and the U-Haul had already been packed. The girls then took a cap to La Guardia Airport and Kate soon after got on her plane.

An hour later Kate landed in Boston, her new home. She had a car waiting for her and the driver immediately drove her to Medford. The driver unloaded Kate’s belongings and sped away as Kate began to explore the grounds. The house was more beautiful than the pictures. There were trees surrounding the perimeter of the property and the previous owner had left a batch of firewood on the porch. There was no furniture in the dinning room and the family room lay bare with the exception of a decrepit ten sofa. Painted a pale hue of yellow, the homey kitchen contained a vast amount of vintage white cabinetry and counter tops. The hallway leading upstairs was a rich shade of burnt orange and the master bedroom was crème toned. The house also possessed a steel blue and white bathroom and a crimson study.

Kate quickly brought her luggage up the stairs and into her bedroom before testing out the thermostat and the water. Much to her dismay, Kate found that the heater was out of order, she had no water in the upstairs bathroom, and a rusty liquid was dripping from the kitchen faucet. After this discovery, Kate propped her five-foot four-inch frame against the hallway wall and sighed with exasperation. “This is going to be a long day.” She mumbled.

After she had finished inspecting the house and created a list of the things that needed fixing, she went to unpack her suitcase. Kate was halfway through her first bag when someone, who Kate presumed was the U-Haul man, rang the doorbell. “Are you Katherine Montgomery?” he questioned.

“Yes.” she replied.

“Then these are for you.” the man in the orange U-Haul shirt placed a pair of keys in Kate’s palm and walked off the porch and into his car before Kate could question him. Not knowing what to do with the keys, Kate stepped out onto the porch and eyed a red Rodeo awaiting her in the driveway. “What the hell?” she muttered to herself. As it turns out, Kirsten had arranged for Kate to have a car while she was in Boston and had left her a laptop in the back seat.

After getting over the shock of the SUV’s presence and the frustration of not having her things, Kate realized that she had not eaten anything all day and was famished. Therefore, she hopped into the truck and drove into town, hoping to stumble upon a decent place to eat. She drove around for twenty minutes, only passing the same bank twice, and then spotted a diner on the corner of Main Street called “Mike’s”. The place looked quant and clean, so Kate decided to give it a shot. She walked inside and saw a man, who obviously had not shaven in almost a week, behind the counter. She sat down at one of the chairs and grabbed a menu left in front of her.

“What can I get for you?” He questioned.

“What do you suggest?” Kate looked up from the menu and made eye contact with the mysterious man. He was tall, around six-foot two, had bright blue eyes, and a gorgeous smile.

“The Club Sandich is my favorite.”

“What would Mike suggest?” Kate pointed to the title on the menu, indicating that she was referring to the owner of the diner.

"The Club."

The mystery waiter had begun to study Kate’s appearance. She wore a pair of vintage jeans, a red sweater with a white collared shirt underneath, and a pair of black stiletto boots. He on the other hand was in a pair of ragged jeans, a navy blue short-sleeved shirt layer on top of a faded gray long sleeve shirt, and a crimson red backwards baseball hat.

“Then, I think I just might have to try that.” Kate placed the menu on the counter, and the mystery man walked back into the kitchen, returning ten minutes later with a sandwich in hand. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to move over to that table over there.” Kate pointed to an unoccupied dwelling in the back left hand corner of the diner.

“No problem.” He grabbed Kate’s plate and walked over to the booth with Kate following close behind. She sat down in a red chair at a white table and smiled as the waiter placed her meal in front of her. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think I’m set. Thank you so much.” With that, the man left and went back behind the counter and left Kate to finish her meal.

Thirty minutes later the man went back to check on Kate and saw her scribbling on one of the paper napkins on the table, “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kate began once she looked up to see the man standing near her table.

“Its fine,” he said kindly, “Are you finished with your plate?” Kate said that she was and asked for a cup of coffee as the man walked away. He delivered the cup five minutes later, and another three with in the course of the next passing hour. During that hour, Kate had scribbled upon dozens of napkins, trying to tackle her writer’s block, but she was unsuccessful. Around four o’clock that afternoon Kate decided that there was no use in trying to fight her writer’s block anymore, so she asked for the bill and gathered her things from the table. As she was leaving, she turned around and faced the waiter, “Do you by any chance know where I can find someone to fix pipes and faucets?”

“Anybody who could, would be closed by now, the town’s carnival is tonight and all the stores will be closed.”

“Alright well thanks anyways,” Kate began, then realizing that she did not even know the man’s name.

“It’s Mike, and you are?”

“Kate. Kate Montgomery.” On that note, Kate left the diner and headed back toward her new found home.

The Plundge
Kate arrived home around six o'clock, and by seven she made her way back into town for the Winter Carnival. She forged a path through the mass of people that surrounded the town’s core and inhaled the whimsical surroundings. Christmas lights and a fresh blanket of snow that had fallen the previous evening glazed the entire town. Not having any friends in the town, Kate thought about leaving until she caught a glimpse of the Ferris wheel coming to life by an illumination of lights. “One single please.” She said politely. Kate got her ticket and made her way to the vacant bench swaying two feet off the ground.

“One single,” Kate knew that voice. How could she not? It was his voice, and she was esthetic at his mere presence. He walked toward the same swaying bench and sat down adjacent to her. “Hey.” Mike said as he pulled the lap bar over the two of them.

“Hey.” The ride started with an ever so slight jolt causing Mike to become tense. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Mike’s hands strongly gripped the lap bar as he pushed his back against the seat.

“Are you sure? You look really freaked out.” Kate moved a minute amount in her seat causing the bench to rock gently.

“I, uh, I’m just a little nervous of, um, heights and stuff.” The basket got to the highest peak of the ride and everything stopped. “Truth is,” he released his tense grip on the bar, “I really hate them. Heights, I mean.” Kate giggled to some extent at the thought. “I, uh, I just wanted to, um, see if you would, um, maybe like to go have dinner with me- on Saturday.”

Kate gently smiled, “I would love to.” The ride slowly began its counter clockwise rotation and Mike began to become on edge again. “You really don’t like heights do you?”

“Yeah, no, not really. It’s the whole plunging into the crowd thing that gets me.” He exhaled heavily as the ride came to a complete stop at its final destination. They began to walk away from the crowd and on to a vacant street plastered in parked cars.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Mike opened Kate’s car door and shut it behind her.

“Goodnight.” With that, Kate drove off to her lonely, cold, awaiting home.

When she got there, she checked the voice mail on her cell phone that she had inadvertently left at home. She punched in her four-digit pass code and listened to the fifteen messages waiting for her. “Hi honey, it’s me! I was just calling to make sure that everything was okay. Call me!” Kate deleted Lana’s message and was shocked when she heard the following eleven messages that went along the lines of, “Kate! Ok, WHERE ARE YOU? And why don’t you have your phone? You are freaking me out. Call me ASAP!” Kate listened to the messages patiently, deleting Lana’s frantic voice off her machine for the twelfth time. She then listened to two more messages from Kirsten and Sydney, both short and simple, and the fifteenth was the most shocking.

“Katie! Hey, we really need to talk about everything. If you don’t want to and think I’m a daft prick, I understand, but please, just talk to me. I will be at Fill My Cup at ten A.M. Please!” Click. The message ended, and Kate hung up the phone. Why now? Why did Andrew have to call now?

The following morning Kate woke up to the incessant chiming of her cell phone drumming. She observed her surroundings in confusion when yesterday’s events came flooding back to her.

“Hello?” Kate answered absent-mindedly. If she had read the caller ID, she never would have answered the phone, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

“Katie!” Andrew’s British accent rang throughout the speaker. Slightly startled, Kate looked at her watch, which displayed the time 10:45.

“Why are you calling me Andrew?” Kate sat up on the couch and grabbed the blanket that had fallen on the floor during her restless night’s sleep.

“Well, when you didn’t show for coffee I thought I might call you to see if you were either on your way, or were just furious with me.” Andrew noticed the dry tone on the receiver, so he continued. “I take it that it’s the later of the two?”

“You’re not wrong.” Kate retorted smugly.

“Look, can we please just talk? In person? I am truly and deeply sorry!”

“How far are you willing to go?”

“I’ll go as far as it takes! Please, let me meet you at the Ritz in an hour. We can have lunch, talk.” Andrew pleaded.

“It’s going to take you more than an hour to get to me. My advice to you is to either buy a plane ticket or find a cheap cab.” The line went dead and Kate shut off her phone.
The inevitable fact of the lack of water inside her house didn’t make Kate’s morning any better, and her caffine-low was beginning to kick in. Not knowing what to do, Kate headed to the only person she knew in town.

“Do you have a shower?” Kate quickly questioned as she plopped herself down on a seqat across from Mike.

“What?”

“Shower. You know, that thing with water. Do you have one at your house?” Kate asked playfully. “Or even a sink or hose? Anything would work right now!”

“Um, yeah, hold on.” Mike placed a dishrag under the counter and walked over to Kate. “Come on.”

The two walked passed a few tables and up a flight of stairs to what looked like the remains of an old office building. Mike grabbed a set of keys out of his back pocket and ushered Kate through the threshold and into the first room on the right. Inside was a beige-gray bathroom complete with a shower, toilet, and pedestal sink. “The towels are clean and you can use whatever you need.”

Kate smiled, “Thanks.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Twenty minutes later Kate walked out if the steaming bathroom to be greeted by Mike holding a cupo of coffee. “Fresh brewed. I thought you might need some.” he explained as he extended his hand.

“Thank you so much for everything.” Kate sipped the coffee and found her shoes, which were sitting by the door. “So, do you live here?”

“Yeah, it used to be a Bed and Breakfast. It’s not much, but it serves its purpose.” Mike brushed his right hand through is curling chocolate brown hair, “But I better get back down stairs.”

“Oh right! You work.” Mike opened the door and followed Kate onto the stairs. “I’m sorry if I was bugging you, I just still don’t have water or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, its not like there was a big morning rush or anything.” By now, they had both re-entered the diner and all of Mike’s energy seemed to fade away.

“Hey, you OK?” Kate’s voice was full of concern as she placed her hand on his forearm. He did not reply.

“Jules,”

“Hey,” Jules, a tall, slender woman in her late twenties, stood next to the counter, obviously waiting for Mike.

“Hey big guy!” A six-year-old boy ran into Mike’s arms upon his very presence. “Jules, what’s up? Is everything OK?” Mike put the little boy down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Michael, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Mike could tell that Jules was blatantly ignoring the question, but he decided to roll with the punches anyway

“Right. Jules, this is Kate, Kate, Jules. And this guy,” Mike tossled the little boy’s light brown hair, “this is Micah.”

“Hi, its nice to meet you.” Kate smiled toward the woman; then turned to face Mike. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to youlater.” Mike began to protest, but was cut short. “I need to go see a man about some pipes. I’ll see you around.” Kate flashed another confident smile and fled the diner just to enter her car a second later.

Kate sat in her red Rodeo for approximately fifteen minutes and then decided to follow the directions Mike had given her for the local plumber. Two hours later water was gushing out of the faucets in the decrepit house, and a man named Andy pocketed nearly $250 of Kate’s money.

That afternoon Kate took walk in the park so that she could clear her head. Her cell phone was left on the counter in the kitchen along with her purse. She walked for what seemed like hours because Kate had not noticed the time until the town’s clock had chimed four-thirty. Giving into the fact that five o’clock was just around the corner and Kate had not concluded whether or not to show up for her date that evening, she decided to head back to her car.

While on her way to her vehicle, something caught her attention. Coming toward her were three all too familiar faces. The best course of action, Kate determined, was to casual breeze past them and flash a sweet yet rye smile in their direction. Due to her recent experience with luck in the past twenty-four hours, Kate should have known better than to assume that her childish scheme would have worked.

While they approached eachother, Mike split away from his companions and began to walk alongside Kate. “Where did you run off too?”

“You looked kind of busy with everything so,” Kate couldn’t bring herself to say ‘family’ and it pained her.

“You mean Jules and Micah? Sorry about that, I didn’t know that they were coming, otherwise I would have told you about them. I just didn’t know the right time.”

“Um, how about before you asked me out. You should at least tell a girl something like this!”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you with it all. It can be a lot to take in all at once.”

“Overwhelm me?” Kate stopped in her tracks.

“Yeah, a lot of people can’t handle the truth about Jules and get freaked out, but they are both great.” Kate’s disposition was beginning to confuse Mike, so he continued, “I mean, Micah is like a son to me and Jules is the best sister a guy could ask for.”

Kate was definitely relieved at this point in the conversation.

The snow began to fall, so they began to walk again. Kate was embarrassed to admit that she believed that Micah was Mike’s son, so she didn’t say anything because her car was luckily in sight.

“Will I still see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Mike opened and closed Kate’ car door as he had done the day before, and watched her drive off into the snow.

[to be continued]
© Copyright 2005 Lorelei Abrams (yella.umbrella at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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