There was something about the wet grass under Karen's feet and the grey clouds that were threatening rain that sent Karen's thoughts into overdrive. All the important events through out her life were being pushed to the front, forcing her to reevaluate her mistakes and her achievements.
There was the time she was six years old when she had painted something and they had done an art show at her school. Her parents had known for weeks, months even. And when the day came, her mother had done her hair, helped her get dressed in one of the best outfits she had, and asked what it was all for. Laughing it off, Lois kissed her cheek and promised she'd be there. Her father drove her to school and promised he'd come back. He never did. He passed away in a car accident on the way home.
Then there was the time she turned 12. All she asked for was a music box that had point shoes painted on the side. She had seen it in the window of one of the stores her and her mother would pass when she would walk to school. So when she saw it sitting on her desk, along with a handwritten note from her mother saying she was needed to pack her things, she didn't realize her music box would disappear and never be seen again.
Being 16 is never easy for anyone, whether they're a boy or a girl; it's a time that needs major attention. A pair of car keys were put into her possession, the money she was promised for 'helping' her mother, and a suitcase begging to be packed. After a decade of missing the one person she felt like she could trust, the woman who used her, traded her for tricks, suddenly meant nothing to her. And the car seemed like a better house to live in than the one that actually had a sturdy roof.
As Karen walked along the grass, she thought about her marriage to Stanley. The one man she had given up multiple offers for had treated her like she mattered, until the truth had been revealed. She actually had feelings for the bastard. She genuinely cared when he got sick, privately cried when he had a heart attack, and locked herself into a room for days when he died. There was no way getting over a man who, no matter how horrible he had treated her, she had come to love. It wasn't easy.
Looking up at the house she had come to call home, her thoughts drifted to Will. There was no way the man could have been anything but perfect for her. He said, he did all the right things to make her heart swoon and for her thoughts to blur, her body forever his. Even him flaunting Michael Potter in her face did nothing to her ego. He even looked pained that the other man was standing next to him, congratulating him on some big promotion. They all knew, possibly with the exception of Michael, that she was supposed to be the one handing him the pair of scissors for him to cut the red ribbon. It was where she belonged.
"Karen, it's time to cut the cake!" Over her shoulder she looked at Marilyn who was standing in the doorway, waving her in. Obliging, Karen trudged up the steps into the house and smiled when she turned the corner, pretending everything was perfectly fine.
She had received the phone call from Jack a few weeks earlier, informing her that Marilyn and George were throwing Will a birthday party. She had already received a series of phone calls from his mother, had made several trips up to the house, helping Marilyn make everything perfect. It was the least she could do after practically stealing Will from her. Even if it was for a short few months.
"Everything looks really great, Kare-" Jack whispered in her ear as they watched Will open his mountain of gifts.
"Thanks poodle." Karen leaned her head on Jack's shoulder, smiling when he hugged her to him.
Karen had insisted to Marilyn that she help with the dishes. Being divorced from Stanley and dealing with him being dead, she had become very hospitable and very domestic. Washing dishes and doing laundry as out of the ordinary it was, it took her mind off of things that she didn't want to concentrate on. And the way her hands moved across the plate, wet and drenched in soap, it was methodic in some odd way.
The evening had winded down rather easily. Will's brothers and his niece and nephew had left some hours ago, the four friends went out for a walk, Karen stuck with Jack who regaled her in a tale of his latest audition. Will stayed behind with Grace chatting about who knows what.
"You're still in love with him aren't you?" Jack had asked her. She smiled and looked at the sand, the different color variations from the water.
"It's hard not to be, Jackie." She smiled as she felt her cheeks warm. She probably would be in love with him for some time. And it didn't bother her if one day it ended, but that she doubted would ever happen.
"You two should just forget about whatever happened between the two of you and just get married and get it over with." Karen couldn't help but laugh at the man, shaking her head at the suggestion. It's not like it hadn't crossed her mind.
It hadn't bothered her as much as it should have; Jack's suggestion. She had come to the conclusion that she wasn't the marrying type. Not a person who would do well in a situation like that. After three failed marriages, a fourth with no concrete outcome was not something she wanted to put herself through. Doing that to Will, leading him on with all the uncertainty, it just wasn't fair.
When they had came into the house Jack and Will disappeared, leaving her with Grace. She smiled at the red head who just excused herself into the kitchen. Karen, the curiosity getting the best of her, followed Grace into the kitchen. The red head toweled off the dishes on the rack and reached up to put them away.
"I never understood what he saw in you." Grace stated; her back to Karen. "You're obsessive, narcissistic, and at times a bitch. But pushing that aside, you're a friend. And that's what mattered when I was gone."
"If you think I'm replacing you Grace I-" Grace turned around and put a hand up immediately stopping Karen from speaking.
"He's in love with you." She said, her voice shaking. "He's more in love with you than he'll ever be with me."
Grace tossed the rag onto the counter and left Karen standing in the kitchen. That's how she ended up in the kitchen washing dishes. She couldn't get Grace out of her head. Will was in love with her. With Karen. And according to Grace more so than Grace.
She shook her head at the thought. It wasn't far from possible, but it wasn't close either. At least not in their eyes. They distanced themselves. On purpose. She heard Will bid his mother good night before pushing himself through the door.
Karen turned and braced her hands against the counter behind her. Will went to the fridge took out an apple before biting into it and turning his attention to her. She smiled at him as he took another bite out of it. He approached her slowly and dropped the apple on the counter before trapping Karen in her spot. She couldn't help but smile as he placed his face inches from hers.
"Jack thinks we should get married." Karen informed Will, dropping her hands to his waist. Will laughed lightly.
"You're not the marrying type." He said, voicing her thoughts. He dropped a kiss to her forehead. "Plus, I like what we have right now."
"Running around behind their backs, thinking we hate each other. It'll get old after a while." She told him. "Eventually they'll catch on."
"So what if they do?" He leaned down and kissed her again. He was smiling when he broke away.
"So I heard something else that was funny today," She said running her hands up his chest. He raised his eyebrow. "Grace says you're in love with me."
"Well I do love you." She looked at him, her eyes slightly wide. "I love you Karen."
"And you've never told me that." Karen said. "Ever."
"Well I meant it everyday." She shook her head at the cheesy line. "How do you like the house?"
"I love it." She smiled.
The house he had built, designed, and put his entire heart into it became his life. He put everything he had into making sure that it was perfect. And the welcome mat, as a secret joke between the two of them had been the welcome mat from Club 33. In the word welcome the e's had been turned in to 3's, giving it a distinct look to the mat all the while keeping the same elegance. New York's Club 33 changed peoples lives.