Page 22 of The History in Us

“Modern fairy tales. Knights and princesses. Heroes and queens.” Her eyes narrowed on me, and my heart skipped a beat, so did time before she spoke again. “But, make believe is a hard sell in a world of practicality.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, we should finish discussing the project.” Deflecting my inquiry, I knew all about that skill, but I wanted to know more about Katie and her fantasies. Instead, she continued. “We should probably figure out what we want to research. A time period, perhaps. A historical event. A…something on a journey.” The last word she air-quoted to emphasize. I hummed in response.

“I have to think on it a bit, but for now, I guess I should get AJ home.” I stood abruptly, good at deflecting myself, and Katie blinked up at me before pressing off the bench. She walked a pace ahead of me, and I twisted my lips in frustration. We reached the zoo exit and suddenly, exhaustion hit. The run. The zoo. The conversation. I was too tired to think.

“Let me call you an Uber.”

Katie’s head swung to face me. Shaking it slowly, she began to laugh.

“Oh, my God,” she muttered, and a hand covered her face. Her shoulders shook like she couldn’t control the laughter.

“What’s so funny?” As soon as I spoke, thoughts of last night flooded to the forefront of my brain. She waved a hand toward me, but her eyes stared straight ahead.

“About last night, I…”

“Don’t turn this into some 80s movie. Don’t think of it. It’s fine,” she interrupted me. Her shoulders suddenly rigid, her hand slipping to her jeans.

“Katie?” I groaned, but she didn’t respond. “No, it isn’t fine, and I really hate those words.” On your lips, I wanted to add, but didn’t.

“Why?” she questioned, a cute, perplexed expression on her face, a gentle huff of air coming from her. The look was more than a question. She wanted answers from me.

“Because fine, is a copout word. Fine was always a lie I told when anyone asked me how I felt, what was wrong, or if I would be okay. You deserve better than fine.” I wanted to add that I thought she deserved all that was good and wonderful, but I couldn’t read the puzzled look on her face. She was biting the corner of her lip. I was already messing this up, whatever this was, and decided I needed to quit talking.

We stood at the corner while I typed in our location on the Uber app. We waited in silence, rode in quiet, and Katie exited the car without a word. A strange type of panic seized me.

“So, I’ll call you about the project?” I asked, holding open the door before she could close it on me. On us. I suddenly didn’t like her not speaking to me, and it reminded me again of a distant memory. Silence. And Katie.

“Sure,” she responded noncommittally, as she looked back at me with a weak smile. “Kiss AJ for me,” she whispered. Instantly, I was jealous of my son. I wanted her lips on me. Instead, I watched her enter the refurbished warehouse when every fiber of my body screamed to follow her. Don’t let her get away, my brain cursed, but I shook away the plea.

How was I going to survive the project with Katie Carter? Professor Erickson, Wayne, certainly had me stumped with this one. A journey into the past. I hated that theme. Little did he know, the past had found me.