She realizes her feelings...
I shook my head, confused, and returned to the kitchen to continue preparing breakfast. Anything to leave... whatever this was behind. I heard Orson descending the stairs, and with a gentle kiss, he wished me good morning.
"Orson, dear, sit down; breakfast will be ready soon. Remember, Andrew is coming over for tea today."
"Thanks, Bree. It smells wonderful in here."
I gave him a fleeting smile and served the lavish feast I had prepared. As we chewed on the blueberry scones, Orson talked about his work. However, I couldn’t focus on his words. Despite my efforts to feign interest in the goings-on at his office, my mind kept drifting to other thoughts.
Katherine, Katherine, Katherine...
"Bree? Are you paying attention to what I’m saying? Well, as I was saying... It turned out to be a cavity in the end, can you believe it!" He looked at me expectantly, waiting for a reaction.
"Oh, darling, that’s hilarious!" I replied absentmindedly.
"Yes... Anyway, how was dinner last night? I’m sorry I couldn’t go; this cold has been a real hassle."
"It was wonderful! Katherine made some exquisite hors d'oeuvres, and I had the chance to chat with the whole neighborhood. I wish you’d been there!" The moment the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. No, I didn’t wish he’d been at the dinner.
I cleared the table and went out to the garden to water my azaleas. The rhythm of my shovel hitting the soil matched the flow of my thoughts. Last night... Something happened. Something that I forced myself to forget, something I was trying not to think about. Yet, our minds have a way of returning to those inexplicable, blurry moments that leave us in a pit of confusion.
And this something was a conversation, a touch, and a goodbye. I remember standing in a corner of the living room when Katherine approached me:
"Bree! I’m so glad you could make it in the end! I thought you’d stay home to take care of Orson.
Oh, dear, I wouldn’t miss this party for the world.
Thank you, Bree. It means a lot to me that you decided to come after all." With her soft hands, she gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
My heart leapt out of my chest; butterflies swarmed in my stomach.
Oh. Oh no. It couldn’t be.
I ran back into the house, knelt down, and prayed. I prayed hard, fervently, for God to absolve my sins, to cleanse my thoughts. This had to be the devil’s work because... Was it possible that I felt this way toward my dear friend?
I didn’t know what to do. True, my son’s homosexual feelings didn’t scare me; I had come to accept them through a hard-fought journey of faith and love. But... for those same feelings to arise in me was... It was simply ridiculous, absurd.
Me, Bree Van de Kamp?
Her, Katherine Mayfair?