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I forced a smile, wiping my eyes, acutely aware of other patrons watching me. "Maybe I'll just go with my friend to India and become a nun, working at Mother Theresa's hospice."
"Yeah, sure Kate," Lara said, smiling back at me, shaking her head. "If you liked Drake as much as you claim, you'll never be able to go back to normal again."
"That's hopeful."
"Look, it's hard enough to find compatible lifestyle partners, let alone someone who you could be with in a permanent relationship. If that's what you really want, you have to get out there and meet people."
I shook my head. "It's too soon. I can't imagine it. I only want Drake."
"When you're ready, just let me know."
We finished our drinks and parted ways.
I walked the rest of the way to my father's. When I got there, I ran up the stairs to his apartment instead of taking the elevator. He must have heard me close the front door because he emerged from the hallway to his study, his half-eye glasses on the end of his nose, a paper in his hand.
"Katie, what on earth happened to you? My God – your eye…"
"I fell in the bathroom, Daddy. I'm fine."
"Come here. Give your old man a hug. You look like you need one."
I threw my bag and coat on the floor and went to him, hugging him, my tears starting fresh.
"There, there," he said, his gravelly voice soft, squeezing me in a bear hug. "You'll stay with us over Christmas and New Year's. You shouldn't be alone now."
I didn't argue.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I didn't even go back to my apartment.
My father sent the driver over with Elaine and they went in and retrieved my things from my apartment, my laptop and a few items from my closet plus the presents I'd bought but hadn't wrapped. I'd wrap them later.
We went to Midnight Mass, and I managed to have a shower and look somewhat presentable, although the choir singing "O Magnum Mysterium" by Morten Lauridsen made me cry, of course, and my tears at the beautiful music morphed into tears for myself and for the loss I felt for Drake.
On Christmas morning, I realized that breaking it off with Drake was the right thing to do. We should have been together on Christmas morning, exchanging gifts, spending the day together, having Christmas dinner together. I should have been with him the entire time. He had no surgeries. His band played a few gigs over the holidays but he'd hurt his hand and wasn't playing. He had the rest of the vacation to spend as he chose. Instead, we couldn’t be together except for a few hours here and there when I could find an excuse to sneak away. And then, it would be just to fuck.
That was no life. That was no relationship.
Still, I cried myself to sleep each night and each day, I forced myself to get up and go through the motions. I wore Elaine's slippers, an old pair of pajamas, and my hair in a messy ponytail, doing little else than mope around, watching old movies, and eating ice cream directly from the container.
My father let me mope, but he was there as company when I felt like it, and when I didn’t, he left me to my own devices. As New Years approached, I dreaded the day. My father was having a dinner party with his 'people' and I would be expected to dress up and greet them, sit with him and Elaine. Then, he and Elaine had tickets to a fancy party to ring in the New Year. Heath and Christie would join them, but I bowed out.
On New Year's Eve Day, I checked the guest list. As I stood in the kitchen, my father came up behind me and glanced over my shoulder.
"Drake isn't on the list," he said. "I didn't think you'd want to see him, but I felt incredibly bad. He's like a son to me and I would have invited him if it wasn't for your breakup."
"I'm sorry Dad. I could always just spend the evening at my apartment if you want to invite him."
"Too late," he said. "Besides, you belong with me. Did you know he's leaving NY Presbyterian for a year? Can you believe it?"
"What?" A shock of adrenaline went through me, making my knees weak.
"Yes, I called over to speak with him, see how he was doing, and he said he'd cleared his slate and had a definite leave of absence. He's spending four months in Africa, teaching and doing Foundation work in Kenya. Going to see where his dad died, helping fix up a few hospitals in the area. Then he's coming back to focus on the Foundation. His band."
"How did he seem?" I asked, my throat choked with emotion.
"Who can say? He seemed to be busy making plans." My father looked at his watch. "Well, I've got a conference call. Seems as though this campaign stuff goes on no matter that it's New Year's Eve."
