Don't Move On
Chapter 9
When Sawyer told Kate what Claire's call was actually about, Kate was near tears—not for anything else, only that she was touched that Claire, or anyone for that matter, would do such a thing. She knew that people always had only good things to say about those who have just died, but nevertheless, she wondered what people would say about her, what Sawyer would say.
They were still out in the patio, and although there was nothing there really except huge but rather dull trees and dried up leaves littered over the dusty ground, it had easily become Kate's favorite place in the house; and it wasn't hard to see why. The color of the sunset, the wind blowing against her face, the crunching of dried leaves, the stars that simply captivate her—it was really now more than ever that she seemed to appreciate these things more. But what made her love being out in this empty patio the most were the sounds—the crunching of gravel as the neighbor's car drove up the driveway, the clinking of the neighbor's garden tools, the laughing, the chatting—they somehow make her feel, make her feel alive. She let out a little laugh as she heard the woman next door telling her husband to scold the dog for trampling on her flowerbed.
Sawyer however, was nonchalant to that; he didn't even notice Kate laugh. His mind was almost maniacally planning and picturing the surprise; he only stopped when Kate stretched out her legs, got up, and asked him whether or not he had anything decent enough to wear for the memorial service.
"Whoever said I was goin'," Sawyer replied casually as he too got up and made his way towards the kitchen.
"O so are you saying you're not going," Kate replied rather heavily, the backdoor swung and banged violently though unintentionally at her wake.
"What's the point," Sawyer asked, wondering what the point was of one, going to the service, and two, Kate banging the door.
"The point is, Sawyer, that it's my memorial service," Kate retorted.
"I ain't seein' any point in there, Freckles." Sawyer sat down on his lazyboy and raised his legs. It was a surprise that he hadn't flared up by now, but he had certainly forgotten, at least for now, his plan for the surprise.
"But that's for me!" Kate retorted glaring at Sawyer. "Had I not been here, you wouldn't have gone either, would you!" Kate was shaking; her voice was unusually high.
"Hate breakin' it to you, sweetheart, but much as your life here's feelin' like heaven, you ain't dead."
"You seriously consider this…," Kate exaggeratedly spread out her arms and turned around, "…heaven! Huh!" Her voice was now softer, but soreness and bitterness were still obviously there. "How can this be heaven, when I have to keep my voice down if I don't want the neighbors to hear me the way I hear them, when…when I can't even remember how your front lawn looks like…"
Sawyer was trying to shut her out, trying to push the words out of his mind, trying to understand that she was just feeling trapped. But I'm damned trapped here with you, because of you! The struggle not to say anything was pounding, making him sweat.
"…when I…I…I jump everytime someone's at the door…or…or everytime the phone rings…when…"
Sawyer didn't hear the rest of it. He darted out of the house, intentionally slamming the door as he left. It was all he could do to stop himself from blurting out something he would later regret.
"…when everytime you walk out that door, all I'm left to do…is wait…" Kate whispered as she heard the door of Sawyer's truck slam as hard. She threw herself on the long couch, face down, tears staining the leather, not noticing the beautiful colors of sunset that just poured in out at the patio.
When Sawyer slammed the door of his truck, it was because he needed to vent out his anger—or whatever you call what he's feeling just then. But with his fist still clenched and his eyebrows furrowed, he stayed inside the car, not minding to roll the windows down. He had thought of backing up his truck and driving off, but he didn't want to have to struggle with the thought of coming home only to find out that Kate had left. His adjusted his seat, crossed his arms, and fixed his eyes on the front door—there was no way out of the house except through that, after all; unless Kate climbs over the neighbors' yard. Sawyer sat up, looked around, and considered this, but he almost as suddenly let it pass. He also had meant to keep watch, but it only took a couple of minutes before he fell asleep.
He woke up to a light but persistent rapping on the window; shifted an inch then turned to see who it was. It was already dark, the green light somewhere along the dashboard read 8:26, but he could clearly see a blonde peering through his heavily-tinted driver's side window.
"What the hell are you doin' out here, Kate!" Sawyer was already yelling even before the window was down.
"I was just checking what your front lawn looked like from here," Kate said shyly; she knew that was lame, but she forced a weak smile hoping Sawyer would somehow let what happened this afternoon just pass.
Sawyer shook his head slowly, exaggeratedly, but he also smiled as he reached over the passenger side and opened the door.
"Sawyer…," Kate began, but Sawyer cut her.
"Just grabbin' somethin' to eat. To go."
Kate smiled as she set off up on the passenger seat, whatever hesitations she had just a second ago was forgotten as the idea of finally going out, even just for a couple of minutes, thrilled her.
They drove down the street and turned around a corner. Kate had been along this area before, but that time, she was so in a hurry to get to Sawyer and so on the look out for police that she didn't really see what were on these streets; that is, aside from the bank she ludicrously thought she would single-handedly rob and the little grocery store where she actually expertly shoplifted and picked a pocket.
"Are you feelin' like eatin' Chinese, 'cos I know just the place," Sawyer said; intentionally making his voice sound a bit enthusiastic.
Kate laughed heartily. "You leave me with no choice really, Sawyer."
"What? Come on, what do you feel like eatin', Freckles? It's your pick," he persisted as he made sure to drive carefully and warily.
"Chinese sounds okay," Kate gave in, still smiling.
"Knew you ain't gonna let me down," Sawyer replied, careful not to let Kate notice that something was bothering him.
But Kate knew there was something bothering him.
"What's wrong," Kate finally asked as soon as Sawyer stepped inside the truck after grabbing their dinner.
"This is mine, understood. Ain't any chance you gettin' near it," Sawyer said with an unconvincing grin as he held up a box of wanton, evading Kate's question despite knowing that she was simply going to ask again.
"What's wrong," Kate asked again.
Sawyer didn't say anything as he started up the car.
"Your eyes give you away, Sawyer."
He sighed. "When you um… went out of the house, you weren't plannin' on leavin', were you," he finally asked; he was planning to anyway.
"Actually, no. I looked out the window, wondering when you'll be back, and saw your truck parked outside," Kate replied.
"I see," Sawyer said plainly.
"I'm sorry about that whole thing a while ago. Sometimes it's just hard you know… Everytime you go out, I go crazy waiting for you..."
"And I go crazy thinkin' you might run away."
"I'm sorry, Sawyer." Now she understood why Sawyer had stayed in the car. "I realize I make things difficult for you too…I wouldn't want to… I should probably…," Kate couldn't bring herself to say what she felt—that she wanted to be with him, but being with him would mean tying him down, forcing him into this kind of life.
"You make things…" Sawyer didn't know what to say. He never thought that his life would become any more complicated than it was before. But it is more complicated now, with Kate.
"I just can't live with the thought that I'm just a big problem for you," Kate was whispering, sincerely hoping that her feelings weren't as confounded, and their relationship wasn't as convoluted.
"What is it that you don't understand? You… this… this is the problem I want to have, that… that I don't mind having."
Kate looked at him; she never thought Sawyer could say anything like that.
"Your truck's automatic right," she said, smiling.
"Yeah," Sawyer replied clueless, unintentionally looking down at the gear.
"Then, why aren't you holding my hand," there was a sense of comical arrogance in her voice.
Sawyer looked at her; she was grinning widely, mischievously.
"I mean, you don't have to be manning the stick the whole time…"
Sawyer reached out, held her hand, kissed it before resting it on top of his knee; their fingers tightly intertwined. Kate leaned over, planted a kiss on his cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder.
That was how they were as they drove back home. By the time they turned the corner toward their street, Kate had already convinced Sawyer of going to the memorial service, not without banter of course. By the time they pulled up the driveway, he was already determined that he'd go on with the surprise this Sunday, when he gets back. And by the time Sawyer and Kate were upstairs, they were already completely naked—the blonde wig dropped unnoticed, their dinner left forgotten.