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The first time I met her I didn’t think much of it. Another new girl, painfully naive, come to work in the factory. Another girl I’ve got to train. Couldn’t open her damn door. Curse the way the corner of my mouth curls up at one side when I think of that. But that didn’t happen at first. At first, I didn’t know why I didn’t fire her when she almost blew up the whole factory. I figured it out later.
When I saw her back in the shower it pierced my heart. I wanted to protect her, and I didn’t even know what it would be from. I just knew immediately she didn’t deserve that. Of course, I also noticed her. I mean, it’s impossible not to. She’s beautiful. But that wasn’t it yet.
Only when she asked me to dance were the first seeds of hope planted, and, like weeds in the spring crop, they took over. I thought maybe she’s like me. Then I was hooked.
I loved the steel in her when she was so determined to get her papers. That she would do whatever it took. But I also loved that she couldn’t do it without me. I hated that I almost cried when she blamed me for her feelings of regret, even though I knew she didn’t mean them. Not completely, anyway.
I hated how irrational I got when it came to her. It seemed everything was a threat to her, when really it was just a threat to me. Leon was not out to shame or hurt her, and she knew it when I couldn’t see it. I was just bitter. Just jealous of how much time she spent with him.
It was such a farce, being the face of the factory. It was bad enough they made me look like a clown - I would have left, but Kate... Anyway, that was bad enough. Then they gave me kids and a husband. A husband! I haven’t even told Kate, but...why do you think I came here, huh?
I grew up in a small farming town. We kids ran near wild, though we all had our chores. My older sister did most of the kitchen ones, so I was allowed to run with the boys in my mother’s words “more than proper.” At fourteen the boys I ran with started to make comments, but I beat them up. I could always hold my own.
When I was sixteen I almost couldn’t. I was alone in a barn with a boy who’d been my friend since we were children, and I’d neglected to notice we no longer were. He was teasing me, as boys did, but then he went on. He was stronger than me. He hadn’t been before. I used to beat him up, gave worse than I got. But suddenly he had the upper hand. Mark, his name was. Mark Russell. I was powerless for a second. But I got away. A strategically placed kick and I was running faster than I ever had before.
I was fine, that was it. I just knew from then on I needed to work at being stronger. So I did. I took on heavier chores. My dad said I was “a real help” but my mom just frowned at my shoulders. “Unladylike,” it was.
Not unladylike enough, though. Another boy who had run with Mark and me as kids, Will, started hanging around more than usual when I was 25. He came over for dinner a lot. I didn’t think anything much of it, until him and my dad exchanged knowing looks. Will proposed and I hit him. I just left. It was the middle of winter, but I didn’t go back for my coat. I walked out, not paying attention to where I was going, and walked out over a frozen pond that wasn’t all the way frozen. I went under for two minutes, then Will, who had followed me with a coat despite his broken nose, pulled me out.
After he saved my life I couldn’t say no. I owed him my damn life, I couldn’t begrudge him my hand. What reason did I have? I was practically an old maid to my mother, older sister already married off. I said I’d marry him. Will and me were engaged. The whole town congratulated us. I couldn’t sleep the night before my wedding day. He was good enough, probably the best that would ever propose to the likes of me. Me, who broke his nose after he proposed, and he still wanted me. I should be grateful. Everyone said so. My parents couldn’t be feeding me any more, with the younger ones, they’d said.
I vomited when the sun started to peak over the horizon. I grabbed my suitcase, already packed, with no direction except away, and climbed out of my window as I’d done hundreds of times in my childhood, and ran. I flagged down a truck on the highway and got to the city. But I knew they’d find me, I had to keep going. I hadn’t even left a note. I worked as an emergency farm hand until I saved enough to go further. The war couldn’t have had a better time. I got my training and went to work in the factory.
Nothing of consequence happened after that. Not until Kate.
When they were filming in front of that house I had a flash of us, Kate and I, sharing a house just like that. And maybe more.
After that, seeing how excited she was about singing with Leon just set me off. I was snippy as anything. But I got over that, mostly.
What I couldn’t get over was seeing Kate’s dad show up out of the blue. As soon as I knew who he was, this pure rage came boiling up my throat. I thought of the scars on her back and how that man had put them there and I wanted to kill him. The fear in her eyes, the way she shrunk away from him, curled in on herself, It sickened me. I knew I wasn’t as strong as I was when I’d been working on the farm, but I figured if I had to I could.
Once he was gone, relief made my knees weak. That was when I felt how much I really felt for Kate. I wanted to kiss her right then, but...it was the wrong time. She was so shaken, it didn’t seem right. She needed me. She fell asleep with her head on my lap, her tears feeding the hate for her father and the love for her that had become everything in my mind faster even then the weeds in the springtime, borne on the winds from field to field. No longer a weed, it was the crop. I watered it, cared for it, fed it. And I believed, despite everything, it would yield bounty.
The next day, Kate sang with Leon. I dropped by after shopping. I could never stay away from her for long, and I was even more reluctant to leave her alone now. She needed me. I needed her. But...I drove her away. I thought...I...I was stupid. I should have waited. Then she wouldn’t have left. Back to her father, which I will never, ever forgive myself for.
But...after it all, I don’t believe I was wrong. I can’t. Maybe it’s fancy, but I could swear I felt her kiss me back for a second.