Page 19 of Kiss and Makeup
“Xavier, I won’t ever be ‘ready’ to talk about it, because I have nothing to talk about with you. You have a job to do, and I have a job to do, and we have to work together, but that doesn’t mean you can keep chasing after me like this.” She turned away, her hair swishing with finality.
“Do you remember what I said at dinner?”
She stopped.
“I said I missed you. I still miss you, because even though you’re right in front of me and I think you miss me too, you won’t talk to me.” Friendly wasn’t working, and I wanted to be more than just old friends. Maybe knowing that was just what she needed, even if saying these things gripped my heart with worry that she would back further out of reach.
“I just…” Her shoulders shook almost imperceptibly, and the side of her neck moved as she swallowed. “I just can’t right now, Xavier.”
I was getting really tired of looking at doorways Kristen had disappeared through. Where did assertive, blunt Kristen go? What—or who—could make her act like this?
Despite the heartache that dug a little deeper each time she turned down my attempts to get closer or at least understand, I persevered. I talked to her at lunch and got polite conversation, but no answers. A couple days later, after she warmed up a little and started acting like herself again, I mentioned our dinner. That set us back to square one when she shut me out yet again.
Her iciness didn’t discourage me. Stubbornness was one of my best qualities, and I was determined to use it to bridge this sudden, confusing gap between us.
* * *
One Tuesday, I left the office building of a company looking to become clients of Cruise Media and sucked a deep breath of winter air into my lungs. I could do this because somehow, miraculously, the air was warm enough not to freeze my chest solid and send me coughing like I had inhaled all the detritus off the Chicago sidewalks.
Since I knew that tomorrow I would likely be back to freezing my toned butt-cheeks off, I decided to walk to a nearby sandwich shop for a late lunch and enjoy this weather while it lasted. Plenty of other people had the same idea, so the sidewalks bustled with activity.
The closeness of the crowds, the people rushing from place to place and knocking into everyone else—usually, I hated it, but today I didn’t mind. The weather must have put me in a good mood. It felt nice not to freeze to death in my suit for a change.
Eyeing the large family with joined hands plowing toward me on the sidewalk ahead, I ducked into the doorway of a dry cleaner’s to avoid being stampeded. When I emerged, I spotted a very familiar ponytail bobbing through the crowd ahead of me.
“Kristen, wait!” I called, ducking and weaving through pedestrians like a slalom skier in the winter Olympics.
“Oh… hello, Xavier.” She didn’t look pleased to see me at all. In fact, anxiousness flitted across the set of her face before she replaced it with something more neutral.
“Could you stop doing that?” I asked. The weather also made me more blunt than usual, it seemed.
“Stop what?”
“If you don’t want to see me anymore, just say so. You never actually ask me to leave you alone,” I pointed out, overriding her words. “I ask what’s wrong, you say nothing, then you give me something about how I shouldn’t ask because it isn’t my business.”
Kristen shifted, glancing away from the sidewalk toward the buildings nearby. “Xavier, I’ll talk to you about this if you want, but now isn’t a good time—”
“It’s never a good time.” We had switched roles. I was the calm one. She couldn’t look me in the eye.
“This is an even worse time than usual.” She glanced at her phone, a little urgency lacing her tone.
I tried to catch her arm, but she stepped back, eyes trained on something over my shoulder. Nothing was there but a high, gated fence and a silent, empty playground. “Seriously, Kristen, please? I just want to know what’s going on.”
“And I just said I’ll talk to you, but not right now. Tomorrow after—”
A bell rang loudly, a clang rang through the streets, and I turned around to see the empty playground was now anything but that. Children spilled from what I now realized was a preschool like water, flowing around the adults who had opened the doors like little leaves blown by the wind. They piled onto the swings, the slides, and the tunnels, and for a moment I could hardly tell what was going on as an elderly woman walked over and unlocked the gates.
Then, I noticed a few things all at once. Things like the way the crowd wasn’t actually moving around Kristen and me as we stood still. These people, too, were all standing still. Second, Kristen had finally stepped toward me, but only to peer around me.
Suddenly, Kristen crouched down and held out her arms. Nothing in my life ever left me quite as confused as that moment.
A little bundle of energy crashed into Kristen and rocked her back on her heels, then my mature, professional business woman stood and spun in a circle, giggling just as hard as the little girl in her arms. “Hey, Honey. How was school.”
“I gave Brownie back! He missed Lily. Lily missed him too.” Kristen had to readjust her grip on the wriggling bundle of arms, clothes, and backpack.
“I bet she did.” Fixing the pink headband before it fell to the ground, Kristen finally met my eyes over the child’s shoulder. “Xavier, this is Emma. She’s why I had to leave the other evening.”
