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Priya and Kate

Kate wanted to marry Priya, but hadn't yet come out to her friends and family at home. A trip to the hospital may put things in perspective.

By Kate MoePublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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Priya and Kate
Photo by Rachel McDermott on Unsplash

So, that was your grand plan then? Just keep it a secret forever?

No, but - you don’t understand. They aren’t like your friends. This will change the way everyone looks at me.

So, why are you even friends with them?!

What, so I should just abandon all my relationships to be with you? Also, I can’t choose my mother!

That’s not what I’m saying.

Kate slept fitfully on the way home from the emergency room. Exhausted, she barely noticed the soothing touch of her concerned partner. Priya glanced over frequently, as if such looks would most assuredly prevent spontaneous combustion. And you couldn’t fault her for it. After all, Kate stayed intact, tranquil even, during the 34 minutes back from the hospital. Even newly bald and bruised, she couldn’t help but be stunning.

As Priya turned onto the winding, dirt road that led to Kate's childhood home, her partner stirred. The white noise of car on pavement gave way to pebbles popping out from under the tires. Kate’s eyes remained shut, but she turned in her seat, slowly waking. Instinctively, Priya took her non-driving hand and began tracing thumb circles on her beloved’s palm. The discomfort after emergency surgery would surely grow worse. Priya couldn’t even imagine the pain, and whimpered in empathy for Kate’s suffering.

As they pulled up to Kate’s house, a gray Toyota Corolla greeted them in the driveway. Kate’s mom, Theresa.

Just because you live in a city, and everyone you know is supportive, does not make them superior.

You’re defending them?

No!

Isn’t acceptance superior anyway?

You’re not listening to me!

Priya nudged Kate until she bridged the remaining distance between asleep and awake. Seeing the car, Kate let out a knowing sigh. She looked over at Priya as if to apologize. Priya understood, and reached a hand to Kate’s shoulder. The small squeeze dictated, “It’s alright. I know she’s here to help you.”

Priya turned off the car, and undid Kate’s seatbelt. As she popped open the driver’s side door, she heard the house's front door swing open simultaneously, and her stomach dropped. Theresa came rushing out, clearly aiming for the passenger. They locked eyes for a moment, each managing a “Hello” as they cast their eyes downward and away. Priya would have loved to scoop Kate up, her strong shoulders supporting Kate’s petite frame, and carry her across the threshold. But Theresa beat her to the rescue. She awkwardly supported Kate by throwing one arm over her shoulder and hoisting her up by the waist. The pair hobbled to the entrance. Looking away, Priya tidied up the vehicle and collected Kate’s things, including her dad’s small black notebook.

If I tell them, and I lose everything, I have nobody. I’ve already lost so much.

That feels great to hear, especially when I’m right here talking to you.

No, that’s the point. You’re not here! You’re 2,000 miles away! That’s why we can barely hear each other.

No. We’re 2,000 miles away because you didn’t want me there. And all I wanted to do is support you. And meet the people, see the place, that made you you.

I know. But this is not a good time to have you here.

It never is.

Once inside, Priya tried to stay out of Theresa’s way - letting her arrange Kate on the couch with a blanket and ice pack for her head. Weird to think that just days ago her skull had been violently sawed open to let out blood. It was blood, usually a vital lifesource, that almost killed Kate. Blood that had been building up pressure inside her skull after the collision. Blood that had no way to escape. The skull was never designed to take that kind of pressure in the first place. The only way to release it was a violently unnatural cutting of bone against blade, surgeon acting the part of butcher, in a play that Kate never signed up for.

The weak, pretty thing called out to her:

“Priya, do you have my book?”

Priya acquiesced, obsequiously, happy to be of service. She noticed Kate appeared more relaxed and lucid now than she had in days. Black notebook in hand, she crossed over to Kate and sat on the edge of the couch, explaining, “I put a sticky note in where I think you were before you fell asleep yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Kate returned gratefully. “I suppose I’ll look through this a hundred times so it won’t matter, but I appreciate it.” Priya returned with a small smile, and resisted the urge to stroke Kate’s hair.

I can’t help that my family and hometown friends don’t understand these things.

But then where do I fit in, Kate? I love you. So much.

I love you, too.

But it’s pretty hard to have a wedding without other people!

Our friends would be there…

Kate! Are you seriously saying you wouldn’t tell your mom that you’re getting married?

Priya remembered back to the hospital, when she first met Theresa. It’s an awkward thing to come out to strangers, but often necessitated. When Priya entered the hospital and asked to see Kate, the staff informed her, “Only family allowed.” To which Priya choked out, “I am family,” breathless because of its truth. The nurse’s eyes raked over her brown skin. She shook her head. “What did you say your name was?” Priya could see the wheels turning in her brain. Things not adding up - not in her heteronormative, white colonial mindset, at least. “I’m Kate’s...wife,” Priya settled on. A word not quite true. Fiancé was the reality. But wife would at least convey the gravity of their relationship. And they definitely could’ve been, should’ve been, married by now. If only Kate would tell…

“Theresa! Hi. I’m Priya,” Priya introduced herself as she walked into Kate’s room. She hadn’t realized Kate’s mom would be there, but she’d seen enough photos to know the woman’s face, confused, before her. “Priya...Who are you?” Priya recovered from the surprise of seeing Theresa, swiftly moving her left hand, diamond encrusted and all, behind her back - then geared up to lie about her friendship with Kate. But she was interrupted.

“Priya?” eeked out a voice from the bed, where a woman wrapped in bandages all around her head shifted uncomfortably to see the newcomer. Sight confirmed her prediction. And Priya crossed over to the bedside. Instinctively she took Kate’s hand. At its soft, weak touch, she nearly started weeping. Then she remembered Theresa by the window, still waiting for an answer. “Um, I’m Kate’s fr --”

“Baby,” Kate said simply. She only meant to draw Priya closer. Exhausted and drugged with pain meds, she continued, unaware that there even was another presence in the room. “Baby,” she repeated, only starting to cry this time. Priya relented completely, and touched her head to her beloved’s.

No, of course not.

So, what gives.

It’s hard. Why are you pushing this so much?

Well… I’d like to, you know, say "I do," build a house with you, kiss your head every morning...

Priya, I want that, too.

By the time the two had been able to tear their gazes away from the others’ eyes - I’m so sorry, Katie, this is all my fault. No, baby, no, I was the one driving, I should’ve been more careful. No, I’m so sorry, if we hadn’t been arguing, if I hadn’t been pushing you. No, please, it was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to the road, please don’t blame yourself. Katie I’m so sorry, how can I forgive myself - Theresa was nowhere to be seen.

Kate touched the ring on Priya’s left ring figure. Tracing the small stone, she let out a longing sigh. Priya could sense her pain. Physically and emotionally. Instinctively, she laid her other hand gently on Kate's forehead, preparing to stroke her hair. But the auburn locks had been replaced by bandages. So she moved her hand down Kate’s cheek and settled for light strokes on the nape of her neck. They’d be going home soon.

Kate, I’m not trying to push you. You know I’ve been through this before.

I know, I know.

So, why not tell them sooner rather than later? What difference is just a little more time going to make?

Priya, I just… I’m not ready.

When will you be ready?

At home, Kate awoke around five in the morning, feeling better rested than she had in weeks, despite the big bumps and bruises. A half second review of her surroundings quickly gave away the reason. Priya snuggled in closer to Kate's side, still clad in jeans and jacket, having collapsed on the couch last night and immediately drifting off to sleep.

Kate didn’t mind at all, to say the least. Leaning her head on Priya’s, she opened her dad’s old notebook, and continued thumbing through the pages of scribbled notes and old sketches. His observations of nature, the stories of his travels, the chicken scratch sketches of friends and family - they had all seemed too intimate to review before. But after coming home for the holidays last week and encountering the notebook again, she found herself transfixed. Rather than a violation, reading it felt like a conversation. Like she was talking to him. What would he think of Priya, she wondered. As if the answer was in the tanager’s feathers, or the hickory leaf’s veins, sketched in the margins. Who would walk her down the aisle? Surely not her mother, Theresa. Maybe their friend Nick, or maybe even Aunt Rose...

I don’t know.

Which is code for never.

No! Don’t say that. I just…

Just what?

I just -----

Priya woke up next to a contemplative Kate an hour later. Theresa was nowhere to be seen. She observed her partner’s face carefully. It was moist. What is it? Nothing, nothing, I’m alright. Hey, what is it. I’m sorry. You’re sorry? You’re laying here with four broken bones and hole in your skull after a car crash, and you’re sorry… Yes, I am. I am using the wedding money for my bones, and I’m sorry. It’s a much better use of the money. Your bones deserve it. No, they don’t. Kate, yes. Yes, they do. I’d give everything for your bones to be okay. I don’t need a wedding, I just need your bones.

They lay on the sofa for awhile, letting the morning sun rise and the chickadees tell time.

Suddenly the front door opened and shut. Priya sat up and glanced out the window, looking for Theresa’s figure walking to her Corolla. But her gaze was misdirected, for Theresa had opened and shut the door to come into the house. Kate started trying to sit up to greet her. Priya adjusted the pillow to where Kate ended up, before Kate even knew that’s where she’d rest. And Theresa pulled up a chair to sit in front of them. Remembering their cool, or rather sparse, conversation the day prior, Priya said nothing. Kate was about to ask where she’d been, but the sleep-deprived and determined look on her mother’s face kept her inquisitively mute.

Kate, what is it?

Kate?

Katie?

Katie! Are you with me!? Kate!

Please no. Katie, please answer. Katie, what was that? Kate, please talk to me. Hey! Come back to me.

Please Katie… I can’t be without you. Katie! Oh God, no. Please answer me, Kate. Stay with me. Stay with me forever, Katie. Stay with me.

Priya suddenly felt self-conscious about her closeness to Kate on the sofa. She began to pull her hand out of Kate’s. But then she felt the fingers instead grasp tighter - Kate’s fingers. A lump had formed in her stomach, but somehow a small smile tugged at her face. She breathed. And looked into Theresa’s eyes. They were puffy, difficult to read.

Theresa stretched out a hand before them, pinching a small piece of paper. It was a check. For $20,000.

“For your wedding,” she said simply.

By Stephanie Harvey on Unsplash

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About the Creator

Kate Moe

Just a young, 20-something graduate who wants to share the experiences she wishes had been online for her. Mostly in times of woe and curiosity.

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