“You were interrogating,” Julia clarified.
“And you got to know her a little more!” Keegan tried to smile forgivingly, but Julia had nothing to offer other than a fed-up side eye.
“And you thought it would be a good idea to bring her here to what? Get cozy with me? And then invite conversations about a blind double-date?”
“It made more sense in my head,” she sighed.
“How did that make any sense to you!” Julia shouted the question, convinced that she could feel the smoke billowing from her ears.
“Because,” Keegan yelled back, but then her voice got quiet, “I thought I would be able to tell if it bothered you… or her…”
“Of course it bothers me. I don’t want to date!”
“That’s the only reason it bothers you?” Keegan raised one eyebrow.
“Yes,” Julia answered immediately, but something felt wrong about it deep down.
“Did you see how it bothered her?” Keegan’s voice sounded like a whisper in the silence–the rustle of branches in the quiet night.
Julia wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Erin laughed at the conversation, leaning in more as she chuckled behind her glass. She picked on Julia with Keegan. She wasn’t bothered.
“Behind that playful banter,” Keegan continued, “I could have sworn there was a look of jealousy on her face. But for some reason, you pushed her away when she asked you out. Why?”
“Why did you invite her without asking me?” Julia was tired of the argument already. She was always tired. Keegan opened her mouth to respond but Julia added, “and don’t give me that I wanted to know more about her bullshit.”
“There goes that idea,” she said, slumping onto the couch.
“Next.”
“Because–”
“Next.”
“I like it when you smile.” Her voice was steady, and she spoke slowly, as if scrutinizing each word on a balanced scale.
Julia sighed as she leaned against the sink, her head pressing into her hands.
“Next.” Her voice was beyond exhausted, her shoulders slumping over her weary body.
“She makes you smile.”
“Next.”
“I like it when you laugh and there are some days I can’t even make you do that anymore,” she paused, waiting for Julia to interrupt her again, but she didn’t. “But her? There’s something about her that makes you light up.” Julia didn’t say anything while she began to scrape plates into the sink. “I know you won’t let anything happen between you two because–” she paused in thought, stood and then disappeared in a rush down the hallway.
Keegan came back, standing like a weathered concrete bust between the entryway to the kitchen and the hallway, just seconds later with empty hands on her hips. Julia turned from the sink and leaned against the counter. What now?
“So, why did you do it then,” Julia asked, not caring where she had just walked to or what she was planning, “if you knew I wouldn’t let anything happen? If you knew this could only make it harder?”
“Because you deserve to smile.” Her voice sounded defeated as if she still couldn’t understand why Julia still didn’t see it, as if it was laying right in front of her in plain English, but she was claiming illiteracy. “Because you deserve to laugh until your stomach hurts, like Ben and the kids do for me. You deserve to look at someone without feeling pain.” Her brown eyes were clouded with tears. She fought so hard for Julia. She fought so hard to make her see she was the little bird flying across the blue sky, a world of possibilities before her. She was the heroine at the end of the story, the one who thought she gave up everything for nothing, finally getting her own happy ending.
“I had all of that,” Julia’s broken voice whispered, her eyes burning.
“With the wrong person,” she whispered back, her voice just as strained.
She fought so hard to help her understand that she didn’t fail Marin. She didn’t sit on the sidelines and allow it to slowly disappear before her. She didn’t let her slip through the cracks. Marin failed her. Marin wasn’t good enough for her.
“I did this because you don’t think you deserve happiness anymore.”