"I'm putting this night down to bed
'Cause I've been sitting at the bar
Hoping you'd walk in the door that says 'Killian's Red'
'Cause I left you a note that said
'Come on out and we'll both get right off of our heads
And float up off the chair'
We'll go on vacation tonight
Under sun of neon light
And I almost love this town when I'm by your side."
-Nada Surf, "Killian's Red"

1990: Age 31

From the diary of Karen Popeil: "There are times when I can keep it inside, when I can simply swallow it down with the next drink. But there are other times when everything comes together. The light makes his eyes shine in the right way. His voice is the right kind of low. His laugh hits the right note. He lights my cigarette before I have a chance to. And all I want to do is give in."

They were building a relationship of patience this time around. Taking it slow, dipping their toes into the water before submerging themselves in their old patterns. It had been three years of distance; she didn't feel like she changed that much (although it was debatable), but she had no way of fully knowing what the divorce put him through. And for the most part, this newfound patience suited them well. It allowed them to to fill the cracks in their foundation. It was a start, and she was willing to take it.

But Karen swore to god, if Stanley didn't show his face in this bar sometime soon, she was going to explode.

She was fine with the patience at first; all she wanted was her friend back, and if that meant taking it slow, she would do it as long as he was still sitting next to her in the hotel bar. She could still remember the way they were when they first reconnected. He walked into the bar looking as nervous as she felt. They kept tripping over trivial sentences, tiptoeing their way through the important ones. It took time to find their groove again. And even when they did, even when they were finally becoming who they once were, they were still wary. They held their friendship in their hands like it would turn to dust at any moment. And it didn't help that all the old feelings Karen had for him came back. That is, if they ever left in the first place.

There was a line she was trying so hard not to cross. She knew how she felt about her own marriage ending; that conclusion was so obvious that she didn't think much of it. It was hard to be on the rebound when there wasn't anything to rebound from. But she could never quite get a handle on how Stan felt about his marriage to Cathy. For all she knew, even though he kept insisting it was a long time coming, he still could have been grieving a split from the love of his life. She had no idea what that relationship was like, because, frankly, she didn't want to know. It was bad enough to deal with her own feelings without having to face the realities of that union. Although, once she and Stan reconnected, it would have been nice to have a hint. She talked around the subject, not wanting to push him over an edge he may or may not be standing on. Let him talk when he's ready to talk. But then their friendship stopped being so shaky. Then one month became two, the days piling on top of one another until a year had gone by. Until two years had gone by. Never making a move when it counted. Never giving it a try. Suffering in silence as opportunity passed her by.

Somehow, all of her stories led to the same conclusion.

It wasn't like she didn't want to move. Of course she wanted to move. It's just that she never figured out how to do that when there was something to lose. She only had something to gain by picking up the phone and reconnecting with Stanley. Giving into that swimming feeling she got whenever they met at the bar was something else entirely. Karen kept using the divorce as an excuse. It's too soon, he's still processing, she'll ruin everything if she told the truth. All of the reasons why not were taking up all the space in her head so that, when it came down to it, she was the good, patient listener that every friend should be. But at some point, she realized how light he was, how happy he was, and she was almost certain it wasn't an act to save face. There was a window, and it had opened. So of course, she stayed as far away from it as she possibly could.

But that didn't mean there weren't times when her curiosity won out. It didn't mean there weren't times when she got a little restless. It didn't mean there weren't times when she almost slipped, when she wished she didn't catch herself slipping.

In the beginning, it would only happen when Karen first saw him. She would walk into the bar and see him sitting there, and she would be overwhelmed with the idea of kissing him hello, her lips lingering against his for just a moment, just to know what that would feel like. She had started to go for it once or twice before realizing what she was doing. Karen would recover pretty quickly, act like nothing of the sort was working its way through her mind. And she would try to keep her distance. But Stan made it hard. It seemed as though he was the only one who could see through her poker face and push all the right buttons at all the worst times. He pulled all the old tricks he did the first time around, letting that feeling of safety wrap around them, moving closer and closer and closer. And just like the first time around, they were stuck in the almost of it all; almost slipping, almost kissing, almost giving in. She couldn't tell if it was stubbornness or stupidity, but either way, it was ridiculously frustrating.

There was nothing holding them back this time. So why were they standing so damn still?

Today, Karen woke up and decided she couldn't take it anymore. She thought of how she was supposed to meet Stan for lunch, and knew if she didn't say anything now, she would drive herself crazy staying in this frozen state. She would find her opening, lay it all out on the table. They would finally have to make a decision. But when she saw him at the restaurant and they sat down to their meal, they quickly slipped into their usual patterns. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised-Stan wasn't the only one running around in circles-but she couldn't help getting more and more agitated as their lunch went on. Before she knew it, the bill had been paid, the dregs of their drinks were swirling around in their glasses, and the conversation had turned infuriatingly superficial. Karen wasn't paying attention to what Stan was saying at this point; she absently watched him talk, feeling everything pile up inside of her, until it finally reached her lips, and there was no holding back.

"Good lord," she blurted out. "Stanley, what the hell are we doing?"

"What are you talking about?" Unbelievable. She couldn't tell if he was playing with her or he genuinely didn't know. And she couldn't tell which was worse.

Karen scoffed. "Honey, if you really don't know, then I guess I have my answer. But I refuse to go down this road again. I refuse to get close to you and wreck myself in the process." She locked eyes with Stan, silently daring him to say something. When he stayed quiet, she continued. "Do you understand how hard it was for me to find out you were married, after all that time we had spent together? And now here we are, doing the same thing all over again. And there's no more Cathy, and there's no more Jordan, but we're just as stuck as we were five years ago. I can't keep doing this. We have to make a move; this is mine." She stood up, put on her coat and grabbed her purse. "If you feel even the slightest bit of what I feel, meet me at the bar tonight. Otherwise, I think this is the end of the road." And with that, she left the restaurant without waiting to hear if he had anything to say on the matter.

She had gotten to the bar when she usually did, slid into the seat she usually sat in. She ordered the martini she usually drank. She brushed off a smirk-laden comment from the bartender about being alone tonight. Problem with the boyfriend? She wanted to laugh; she had to have one to have a problem with one. She took her drink in silence and nursed it before ordering another one, and then another. She would look to the entrance every now and then, hoping that she would see him walking through, but none of the faces she saw coming her way was the familiar one she longed for.

Karen was beginning to second guess her actions. Maybe she was a little harsh. Maybe she could have eased into it a bit better. Maybe she could have waited for a better time. Maybe he decided he's staying in for the night. Maybe she just effectively ended a friendship she relied on so much. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Karen sighed and downed the rest of her drink. If he hadn't shown up yet, he wasn't going to. She was getting restless waiting for him; all she wanted to do now was go home, sleep it off, and add this latest disappointment to the ever-growing collection. She always wondered why she was afraid to push; now, she understood. She tried to signal the bartender for her check when she heard a voice.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

When she turned around, Stan was pulling out the bar stool next to her. Karen watched him take his seat as she tried to collect her words. "I...I was starting to lose hope," she said softly, wanting to put on a strong front and knowing she had failed.

"That's my fault. It shouldn't have taken me this long." Unbelievable. She couldn't tell if he meant coming here tonight, or making a move at all. And she couldn't tell which was making her heart speed up like that. But before she could figure it out, Stan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers; everything she had hoped to feel in this moment lived in that kiss. When they pulled away, Karen finally noticed the bartender standing there, waiting for her request. She cleared her throat, pulled herself together.

"Another round," she said. And as Stan put in his drink order, she grinned to herself, thinking of how wonderful it was to finally break away from the circles they had been running in, and how maybe that collection of disappointments had finally been capped.

1999

She could tell that Grace was planning something, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what that something was.

Karen caught the redhead looking over at her throughout their work day with a strange glow in her eyes, trying to slow the smirk playing across her face. There were times when their eyes would meet and Karen would call her out, ask her what was going on inside her mind every time she gazed in the dark haired woman's direction. Grace would shrug and play confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." But there always was that mischievous smile that seemed to give her away. And Karen could have let it all slide, if it weren't for the redhead's little suggestion just after lunch. Grace looked up from her sketchpad to break the silence that enveloped them, and saw Karen startle in her seat at the sound of her voice.

"You know," Grace said, "it's a slow day today. If you wanted to get out of the office for a little bit, kill some time before we go home, I'd be fine with that. It's better than sitting around here with nothing to do."

The dark haired woman narrowed her gaze and fought the urge to ask what Grace was getting at. She could almost hear the gears turning inside the redhead's mind. But she wasn't about to pass up a chance to get some shopping in on company time. Karen slowly stood up, took one step and then another towards the coat rack. "You're sure?" she asked, her words coated in incredulity.

But Grace didn't back down. "Go for it," she nodded. "I'll be here when you get back." Just like that, she went back to her sketch. And just like that, Karen headed for the door.

She wasn't planning on spending a lot of time roaming the streets of Manhattan; even though she wasn't occupied with anything important back at Grace Adler Designs, it was an overwhelmingly comfortable feeling that came along with watching the redhead work from across the room. But peeking into one store turned into peeking into another, one shopping bag turned into three, and before she knew it, the sun was setting and closing time was fast approaching. Karen raced back to the office and hoped that Grace wouldn't spend too much time waiting up for her.

When she got to the office and put her bags down on the floor next to her desk, the redhead was nowhere to be found. Karen called out for her, thinking Grace was rummaging in the swatch room. She was waiting in vain for an answer when she saw the note on her desk, complete with an address in the Village and a simple request.

Come find me. I'll be waiting.

Well. She couldn't say no to that.

Karen started making her way to her destination and couldn't shake off the feeling that her path was incredibly familiar. Maybe she used to walk the same streets with Sophie way back when (she was positive they had at some point), but she didn't think that was the reason for the butterflies in her stomach. They didn't feel like the butterflies she normally attributed to Sophie's memory, but they felt just as significant. She tried to put it together the closer she got to meeting Grace, until she finally saw the place the redhead was supposed to be at. The neon shouting from the window into the street. The din from the crowd and the music inside spilling out into the sidewalk. The smell of cheap beer getting stronger and stronger as you got closer to the door. It was the exact same dive she wandered into all those months ago, as an attempt to get as far away from Stan and her Park Avenue life as she possibly could.

It was the exact same dive where she first met Grace Adler and changed the course of her life.

Karen walked in and worked her way through the lively crowd, shocked when she found that Grace had found two seats at the bar when the place was this full. The redhead broke out into an uncontrollable grin when their eyes met; the dark haired woman broke out into an uncontrollable grin when she saw that Grace had whiskey on the rocks and a pint of beer waiting for her arrival. "Are you sure you should be here?" Grace asked, harking back to their first exchange.

The dark haired woman was still laughing when she pressed her lips to Grace's. "You know, you could have just told me you wanted to come here tonight," she said as she took her seat.

"But where's the fun in that?" Grace sipped her beer, thrilling at the touch of Karen's hand on her knee as the dark haired woman lifted her drink. "I've just been thinking about the night we met, how that night should have gone. I think we're due to make it right."

Karen furrowed her brow. "I thought that night went pretty well, considering why I came here in the first place. How exactly do you think it should have gone?"

"Well, for one thing, I would have gotten your number. I wouldn't have left seeing you again up to chance." The redhead tucked a lock of Karen's hair behind her ear, let her hand rest against the dark haired woman's cheek for a moment. "I would have been a little bit bolder."

"You were pretty bold already," Karen murmured, remembering the way Grace had been around her that night, how she couldn't tell if Grace was being refreshingly blunt because that was her nature or because the beer had influenced her.

"I would have given in to the way you were making me feel. I wouldn't have thought so much about Danny. We would have gotten close. And then at some point, if this were a perfect world, we would have gone home together."

Karen waited until their eyes locked, until she was sure she had Grace's full attention. "I would have gone home with you that night," she said.

Grace's eyes widened in surprise. "You would have?"

The dark haired woman nodded. "The way you made me feel then...I hadn't felt that in a long time. I wanted to be with you. I just didn't think it was possible." She let the rest of her whiskey slide down her throat and ordered another round for both of them. She laughed to herself as she slid her fresh drink towards her. "I keep going over that night, trying to figure out why I came here, of all places, to get away from Stan. I used to think it was just my way of reconnecting with my past. But I don't know, Gracie. You make it seem more and more like it was fate."

"No, fate is you walking into my office looking for a job. God, if you hadn't have done that, I think I would have driven myself crazy trying to find you. Not that I had anything to go on." She considered it for a moment. "Not that it would have stopped me."

Karen couldn't help but smirk. "Can I tell you something? The only reason I answered that ad was because I was hoping it was you." Grace's laugh made her feel like she was floating. "I'm serious! There's got to be a million Graces in the world, but the one looking for an assistant in the classifieds was obviously my Grace." She shook her head. "I almost lost my nerve, too, thinking about the possibility of it being some stranger. Trying to explain myself. I mean, why the hell would I need to work?"

"To find something better for yourself." Grace moved her seat closer to Karen, her arm brushing against the dark haired woman's arm, that gardenia perfume she had quickly become addicted to going to her head.

"Your boldness is showing again," Karen said, running her finger up and down Grace's thigh. "You're lucky you're right."

"You know, for all the times you told me you found something better, I don't think I tell you enough that you've shown me how brilliant life can be. If I hadn't have met you…"

"You would have gone down the same road with Danny that I did with Stan and Jordan." Karen shrugged and smiled. "Except you wouldn't have met a bold, quirky stranger in a bar, ready to change your world."

Grace bit her lip. The way the neon light of the beer signs bounced off her curls as she shook her head was stunning, and the dark haired woman found herself wanting to hold onto this vision for as long as she possibly could. "I don't believe that. You're too important to be a coincidence. It would have happened eventually."

She said it so matter-of-factly that it stole Karen's words from her for a moment. She was never sure about anything the way that Grace was sure about the inevitability of their relationship; life had taught her to second guess her hunches and bend her convictions almost to the point of breaking. But now, after thirty-nine years, three marriages, and a myriad of disappointments in between, she was finally starting to see that she didn't have to bend, and she didn't have to second guess. This was how it was always supposed to be. "Well," she finally managed. "I'm glad we didn't have to wait for eventually."

The sincerity in Grace's voice was incredible. "Waiting for eventually would have destroyed me."

The whiskey flowing through Karen made Grace's touch even more electric on her skin. The redhead ran her fingers along Karen's jawline and sent waves throughout the dark haired woman's body. She drew her into a kiss and let her hands slide around Karen's waist, her touch walking up and down her spine. Karen smiled against Grace's lips for a moment. For such a secretive relationship, they were certainly out in the open now. She knew that the chance of anyone caring about their closeness was slim. But she couldn't help but imagine all eyes on them. And she had to admit, it was incredibly liberating. But before she could think about that for too long, she felt Grace's touch travel to her thigh, sliding ever so slowly underneath her skirt. She thrilled at the touch, sighed over Grace's lips grazing the crook of her neck. It was more than Karen could take in such a public place.

She leaned in close enough for Grace to feel the dark haired woman's breath on her ear, the warmth of it making Grace melt into her. "I think you should take me home with you," she whispered before planting a kiss. When she pulled away, Grace could see her eyes spark into fire.

Grace signaled for the check and threw some cash down on the bar, completely oblivious to Karen's insistence that she be the one who paid. She took Karen by the hand and led her through the crowd, back into the night. As they hailed a cab, Karen found that when she moved in closer to her, it felt like New York was the only place in the world. They climbed into the taxi and felt the warmth envelop them. And as they made their way towards Riverside Drive, Grace's lips never left Karen's.