When in Venice?

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kathleen sputtered, as I dropped the bomb on her. “I always figured you were jealous of our relationship. But this…this is unbelievable!”  Her face was red and angry. I’ve seen this look before, but never directed at me.

“Kat”, as I’ve called her, since we met in middle school, “why would I make this up? What do I have to gain by shattering you with this information”?

I knew Marcus was with another woman and I had to tell my best friend what I’d seen. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. She was so in love with Marcus. They met in a most romantic way. She, a college student taking summer classes in Venice, Italy. He, older, a writer who had been taken by the charm of Venice, moved there to write.  It was out of a story book. They caught each other’s eye at a quaint café. A whirlwind romance ensued, complete with Gondola rides, trips to the countryside, and future plans made, with Marcus proposing on New Year’s Eve, back in the States, on a yacht, under a starry California night. 

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. If it were me, I’d want to know”, I reasoned, holding my hands up as if to prove I’d done nothing wrong. Kat wasn’t having it. She was up and out of her seat at the corner bistro before I could finish my thought. I knew that chasing after her was pointless. She wasn’t going to listen now. Would she go and track down Marcus? Oh wait, he was on a book tour on the East Coast. I guess that option was out. My guess? She was going to do nothing. Nothing, except never speak to me again. Tears fought their way out of my eyes. I asked for the check, and got out of there as quickly as possible, scooting over to the exit with my gaze firmly on my feet.

Kat & Sam. Sam & Kat. It was us, against the world, ever since she introduced herself to me on our first day of 6th grade. I was new to Cali, and nervous to be starting Middle School in a new place. Thanks mom and dad for uprooting us, BTW. Kathleen made it  all possible-navigating friendships, boys, hormones, and homework. My mere survival of middle school was in large part due to her confidence and assertiveness. She had an older sister who had shown her the ropes. 

So now what? My person, my kindred spirit, thinks I’ve turned on her. I get that she didn’t want to hear or believe the news, but to turn around and put it all back on me? My stomach is on a roller coaster ride…I hate roller coasters. I also hate conflict. I can’t believe this is happening. I find myself in my own driveway. I literally auto-piloted myself home. All that is waiting for me here is a cranky cat named Birdy. No wonder she’s cranky. What a stupid name. I thought it was cool at the time, when I found her next to the shed all those years ago. A black cat with green eyes, so pretty. She, however,  is not going to help me solve this mess. How do I get through to Kat? I go to my makeshift bar and make a vodka & limeade. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere. This will calm my nerves and help me focus. 

My head is heavy, my mouth, cotton. What time is it? Shit! Now it really is 5 o’clock and I am in the land of drunk/hungover. I think I ended up mixing 3 drinks, but who’s counting? The Ding of the doorbell wakes me up further. Who would be coming to my apartment? I don’t generally get visitors, except Kat. Heartened, I leap to the door, swinging it open, energetically. I stare at the person who is staring back at me. Marcus? This is not good.  I need a drink. 

“I thought you were in…”, I began, as he pushed his way inside. 

“Samantha, do you realize what you’ve done?”, he shouts, pacing the floor of my kitchen. I’m watching him closely. I've never seen him angry like this and I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared. 

“Are you trying to ruin my life? And Kathleen’s? Whatever you think you saw, you are wrong and you need to fix this”. His face is red and he looks like he’s about to burst. He takes a step toward me and I take a few steps back. 

“Let’s just make a drink and talk this through, ok?” I try, feeling hopeful. He moves past me toward the bar and pours us each a double Bourbon, neat. Not my favorite but, in a pinch, it’ll do. Pretty sure I’m in a pinch. We both sip, taking turns looking at one another. 

“Marcus”, I started, “I’m really sorry but I know what I saw and my job is to protect Kat from harm”, I paused, looking for a reaction from him There was none. A chill ran across the back of my neck. “And if you care for her at all, you’ll tell her the truth and let her go”. There, I said it. He jerked himself up quickly from his seat. I thought he was coming after me, but he turned to refill his glass. When I glanced up, I noticed something, a shape near his waistband on the back of his jeans. Did he bring a gun? Where would Marcus get a fricking gun? Oh, this is bad. The bourbon, the vodka, and my nerves got the better of me. 

“I’m gonna be sick”! I lamented, as I dashed for the bathroom. I realized I never did eat. Our food had arrived at the bistro just after I told Kat the news. We never took a bite. After a few moments of retching, I flushed, washed my shaking hands, and splashed cold water on my face. I looked like shit. Remembering that my phone was in my pocket, I sent what I was sure would be my final text.  A bit dramatic? Perhaps, but I don’t trust this guy, in my apartment, at this moment.  The text went to Kat.  Would she even look at it?  She’d probably already blocked me. I had typed ‘Icicle Bicycle’. Seems silly, but that was our code for ‘things are not good’. We came up with it in the 7th grade when my parents were fighting all the time and Kat felt I needed a way to let her know if I was in trouble. After sending the text, I made sure the sound was down on my phone and I put it in the bathroom cupboard and headed back to the kitchen. Yep, I was right about the gun, because while I’d been worshipping the Porcelain God, Marcus had placed it on the table in front of him. 

“Marcus, why do you have a gun? There is no reason for a gun. We can figure this out” It all sounded lame coming out of my mouth, so I stopped talking altogether. I sat across from him, my knee bouncing up and down. 

“Samantha, I can’t lose her. You’ll have to tell her that you made a mistake. Had the wrong person. Something”. He shrugged. 

“She’s too smart for that. She knows I wouldn’t have come to her if I wasn’t sure”. 

“Well, did she believe you? I’m guessing not. She called me in a huff but was more angry with you than me!” He exclaimed. “But I need to make sure this story does today and that only happens if you call and tell her it was a mistake”. 

“Okay-I don’t think she’ll answer, but I will try”, I shrugged. When he saw that I went to the bathroom to retrieve my phone, he followed me. Shit! He knows my phone and I are glued at the hip and he’s going to wonder why it wasn’t with me. 

“Really, Samantha, what did you do?” Marcus inquired as he waved the gun as if I needed a reminder (eye roll)! He held out his hand, knowing I would unlock my phone and hand it over, which I did. I’d already been working on my lie, in case Marcus demanded to see my messages. 

“It’s just a joke. Something Kat and I used to say to make each other laugh. She left so angry this morning that I thought this would make her laugh”, I tried. 

“Aww that would be cute, if it wasn’t a lie. I’m Kathleen’s husband. We have no secrets” he sneered as he hit me along the side of the head with his gun. I was so shocked and wow did that hurt! Not at all like in the movies. I fell back and just decided to sit on the floor. What next? I thought as the blood began dripping down my face. I need to be calm. He needs to be calm. A knock at the door startled me back into the moment. Now who, I thought. I’m all visitored-out for today. Before either of us had made an attempt to see who was at the door, Marcus’s phone rang. 

“Kathleen, darling, where are you?” His voice, as sweet as honey. What a pig. He put the gun away and was focused on his conversation with his wife. Stomach doing flips, I went for it. I was just past the living room when he yelled out, “Aaaaagh! Damn it. Get back here”.  By now I was in the bedroom, pushing my body through the screen. Someone caught me as I burst out and toward the ground. Assuming it was Marcus, I flailed and kicked and screamed. Then I realized two things. 1-There’s no way Marcus could’ve gotten around the side of the building that quickly and 2-o recognized the voice that was attempting to calm me. 

“Kat!” I collapsed into her arms, and we both fell back to the ground, sobbing and half-laughing as we said “Icicle-Bicycle. We collected ourselves with the help of a couple of police officers that Kat had sent over and headed to the front of the building, just in time to see Marcus being loaded into a police cruiser. As much as I wanted to celebrate that fact, I knew this wasn’t the time. I grabbed on the CAT scan and squeezed as tears ran down both her cheeks. This was a huge loss for her. I really hate being right sometimes.

“I’m sorry” we both said at the same time. Over pizza and wine, we told our stories and apologized to each other for all that had happened. I’d seen Marcus a week ago, walking arm in arm with a young woman. Then I saw the kiss. That was all I needed to approach Kat. Instead of going on book tours, he was starting a new “friendship” with someone even younger than us! I told Kat that she would heal from this and she would find someone who truly loved her. As for me, I’m just glad to have my person back. It has been a hell of a day without her.