KNOT: A Wake Family Novel by M. Mabie
Authors: M. Mabie
Tags: Book One, A Wake Family Novel
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disregard this email.
I’m sure I’ll see you around the building after I move in.
Thoughtfully,
Nora
Thoughtfully.
I was being coy, but I couldn’t help it.
Selfishly, I was a little lonely and hoped he’d respond. He was a pain in the ass, but still kind of entertaining. Besides, when he’d first contacted me about the building, I wasn’t in my best mood. I’d just buried my father, but that wasn’t fair to him. He didn’t know that.
Reagan might not be funny, but he certainly was handsome.
I ate at the counter and flipped through social media. I had a few acquaintances, but most of the people in my feed were work contacts or old lovers.
I wasn’t a relationship kind of person. I believed that, for me, my sexuality and my emotions were best kept separate. That’s why I’d always preferred to sleep with couples.
However, I wouldn’t ever say that I’d ever had a serious relationship with any of them. The idea of that never appealed to me. I’d seen how relationships in my family only caused pain for others. How fickle desires ruined lives all around me.
My father had me out of wedlock.
My mother married anyone she wanted. She was never satisfied.
How could the product of two such people ever know anything about being committed to anyone?
Sometimes I felt like an island. Often it was paradise.
In most recent days, it had only felt desolate, but I had to take the good with the bad. I didn’t have to worry about making anyone happy, or letting them down. I could just do my thing.
Work hard. Earn my own way.
Rely on myself. Be independent.
And on occasion, I fucked people who I trusted to merely offer me their bodies and simply wanted mine in return. You’d think living that kind of life was dangerous. For some, maybe. Not for me.
My lifestyle required honesty. Even though I wasn’t in a relationship with anyone, I still had to be truthful. Careful. We all did. I always protected myself. I had a contraceptive implant, insisted on condom use with all my partners, and had regular checkups and tests. I hadn’t had sex in months though.
Months .
I’d been busy in LA.
Traveled to Chicago.
Then I rushed here to be with Papa.
The only opportunity I’d even had in recent memory was with Janel and Ives the night I’d met Reagan at the InformaTrade party, but it didn’t happen that night, and no one questioned anything.
Funny thing about imaginations though. All I remember about being in their tub was the fantasy I’d had about Reagan.
He didn’t answer my email that night, but when I was switching planes in Atlanta on my way to LA two weeks later, I finally got one.
From: Reagan Warren
Subject: re:Possible Gratitude
Date: June 7, 2008 06:22 EST
To: Nora V. Koehl
1 attachment
Nora,
Please find attached all of my contact info—since you don’t have my card anymore—and let me know if you ever need anything. Including, but not limited to, dinner.
Your neighbor,
Reagan
PS You’re welcome.
So, he had helped.
Surprisingly, I only felt grateful. Even more surprisingly, it made me smile that he still wanted to have dinner. It was flattering and after the past few months, I could use a little kindness.
I knew it would never turn into anything. For me, it never did.
I didn’t reply, but I saved his information into my phone.
Later that night, when I was finally in my abandoned Los Angeles apartment, I answered a call from my mom. It was either that or clean out my refrigerator. I chose the slightly less of two evils.
“Hey, Mom,” I said into my cell and sat on the small countertop in my kitchen. I’d pulled the trashcan over, and I began tossing things out of my cabinets that I either didn’t want or weren’t any good.
“How are you, sweetie? Are you back in the states yet?” I didn’t worry about her asking me to visit. She rarely did. We got along best over the phone.
“Yeah. L.A. Just packing everything up to ship. I leave for Chicago on
I’m sure I’ll see you around the building after I move in.
Thoughtfully,
Nora
Thoughtfully.
I was being coy, but I couldn’t help it.
Selfishly, I was a little lonely and hoped he’d respond. He was a pain in the ass, but still kind of entertaining. Besides, when he’d first contacted me about the building, I wasn’t in my best mood. I’d just buried my father, but that wasn’t fair to him. He didn’t know that.
Reagan might not be funny, but he certainly was handsome.
I ate at the counter and flipped through social media. I had a few acquaintances, but most of the people in my feed were work contacts or old lovers.
I wasn’t a relationship kind of person. I believed that, for me, my sexuality and my emotions were best kept separate. That’s why I’d always preferred to sleep with couples.
However, I wouldn’t ever say that I’d ever had a serious relationship with any of them. The idea of that never appealed to me. I’d seen how relationships in my family only caused pain for others. How fickle desires ruined lives all around me.
My father had me out of wedlock.
My mother married anyone she wanted. She was never satisfied.
How could the product of two such people ever know anything about being committed to anyone?
Sometimes I felt like an island. Often it was paradise.
In most recent days, it had only felt desolate, but I had to take the good with the bad. I didn’t have to worry about making anyone happy, or letting them down. I could just do my thing.
Work hard. Earn my own way.
Rely on myself. Be independent.
And on occasion, I fucked people who I trusted to merely offer me their bodies and simply wanted mine in return. You’d think living that kind of life was dangerous. For some, maybe. Not for me.
My lifestyle required honesty. Even though I wasn’t in a relationship with anyone, I still had to be truthful. Careful. We all did. I always protected myself. I had a contraceptive implant, insisted on condom use with all my partners, and had regular checkups and tests. I hadn’t had sex in months though.
Months .
I’d been busy in LA.
Traveled to Chicago.
Then I rushed here to be with Papa.
The only opportunity I’d even had in recent memory was with Janel and Ives the night I’d met Reagan at the InformaTrade party, but it didn’t happen that night, and no one questioned anything.
Funny thing about imaginations though. All I remember about being in their tub was the fantasy I’d had about Reagan.
He didn’t answer my email that night, but when I was switching planes in Atlanta on my way to LA two weeks later, I finally got one.
From: Reagan Warren
Subject: re:Possible Gratitude
Date: June 7, 2008 06:22 EST
To: Nora V. Koehl
1 attachment
Nora,
Please find attached all of my contact info—since you don’t have my card anymore—and let me know if you ever need anything. Including, but not limited to, dinner.
Your neighbor,
Reagan
PS You’re welcome.
So, he had helped.
Surprisingly, I only felt grateful. Even more surprisingly, it made me smile that he still wanted to have dinner. It was flattering and after the past few months, I could use a little kindness.
I knew it would never turn into anything. For me, it never did.
I didn’t reply, but I saved his information into my phone.
Later that night, when I was finally in my abandoned Los Angeles apartment, I answered a call from my mom. It was either that or clean out my refrigerator. I chose the slightly less of two evils.
“Hey, Mom,” I said into my cell and sat on the small countertop in my kitchen. I’d pulled the trashcan over, and I began tossing things out of my cabinets that I either didn’t want or weren’t any good.
“How are you, sweetie? Are you back in the states yet?” I didn’t worry about her asking me to visit. She rarely did. We got along best over the phone.
“Yeah. L.A. Just packing everything up to ship. I leave for Chicago on
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