"All right," Kat said turning to the Nubian prince as soon as they were out of camera view, "you can go now."
"Go? But baby I thought you and I..."
"You and I? There is no you and I. You had a purpose and you served it well. Now, off you go."
"Off I go?" He looked pissed. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"I'm the woman who strongly believes that Lorena Bobbit didn't finish the job. Want to know how I'd finish that job?"
He actually paled under her veiled threat and walked away, muttering about crazy women and their fucked up knives. Jess, Nat and Mireille walked up to her, looking a tad worried.
"What the hell was that all about?"
"The boyfriend called, asking about my naked boobies on TV."
"You're wearing a top," Mireille said.
"A wet top," Nat added with a tight smile.
"A white wet top."
Kat glared at Jess and her smirk and refrained from pointing how her very see-through beige top.
"I don't want to dwell on it right now. So, are we going to stand there and complain about my boyfriend or are we going to keep on having fun?"
"Let's go," said Nat.
Shane threw his phone against the wall, watching the 500$ piece of equipment shatter into 500 pieces. Adam shut off the TV and went to stand by his boss.
"You okay there boss man?"
"I just threw a brand-new phone against a wall... what do YOU think Copeland?"
"Wanna talk about it?"
"With you? Why put myself through the torture?"
"Hey, you know, I was just offering to help. You don't have to get on my case about it."
"Sorry. I'm just extremely annoyed right now."
"If I might offer some advice Shane," said Jason, "I mean, Kat's a one man woman... that much is clear... and Carnival... that's just it, it's Carnival... women go crazy, they flirt and that's it."
"But her top was wet and see-through!"
None of them could say anything to that. They all remembered how wet and see-through Kat's top had been.
"Anyhow," said Shane. "Thanks for the advice. I'll think about it. I got to go. See you guys later."
The girls spread their food out on the small coffee table and Nat reached for the remote control. They immediately flicked over to MuchMusic and watched the all-day Carnival coverage. And finally they recognized themselves on the screen. Kat spit out the piece of curry chicken she was eating when she saw her heavy breasts bouncing under the flimsy top.
"Oh my fucking God!"
In the meantime, her friends were laughing their heads off. Kat was mortified. Her nipples were there for all to see.
"You're fucking blushing," Nat laughed.
"I look like a fucking whore!"
"Nah," Jess said, patting her hand, "you look like a normal woman at Carnival."
"But... oh God, Shane... I kind of understand why he was so ticked. I was kind of showing off the assets."
Kat reached for her cell phone and dialed Shane's phone. She immediately got the voice mail which meant his cell was off, which was even stranger. She didn't let that deter her. She dialed Joanie's cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Jo? It's Kat. what's up?"
"Nothing much. I hear you have fine nipples."
"Huh?"
"The little boys were watching your display on Canadian MTV."
"Which little boys are we talking about exactly?"
"Adam, Jason, Andrew, Jeff, the two Matts, and naturally, Shane."
"I think I want to die now."
"Ha ha ha... look at it this way, they're all going to see me when I do the Playboy thing."
"Not exactly the same thing Joanie."
"I know, I know. But still."
"Argh! Listen, have you seen my boyfriend? I kind of HAVE to talk to him."
"Yeah. He's been talking to Paul about your nipple exposure. Shane!!! It's Kat!"
"I don't want to talk to her," Kat heard the pout on his lips from the phone.
"JUST PUT HIM ON THE PHONE," Kat yelled.
"Here," Joanie said, pressing the phone to Shane's ear. "Hold it there and listen to her. Paul, let's go."
"But I wanted to hear this," he whined, "it might be fun."
"We're leaving," said Joanie.
"Shane?" Kat asked, almost timidly.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry about today. I overreacted. You were justified. I had no idea I was showing off that much."
"..."
"Shane... please, come on. I acted badly. I shouldn't have hung up on you."
"..."
"Or taunted you with that guy. not that anything happened with him... he hit the road as soon as we were out of the camera's line of sight."
"..."
"Shane, damn it, I'm apologizing here. The least you could do is accept the apology."
"I don't know if I want to."
"Shane, this is not the time to be a baby. I just saw the footage. I didn't know I was exposing that much. How many ways am I supposed to apologize?"
"Do you mean it? The apology I mean?"
"Of course I do. You have no idea of how shocked I was when I saw myself out there. I spit out a very tasty piece of chicken because of it."
"Good."
"But when you called me... you sounded like a snotty little bastard Shane!"
"Snotty? I don't do snotty!"
"You so can... and you did. That's what got my dander up... it made me want to spit. And I did spit... right in your face."
"I see. So basically, we both acted like big babies, right?"
"Yes... that's the short and long end of it."
"I see."
"By the way, how come your cell's off? I thought you always left it on?"
"Oh that," Shane sighed.
"What happened?"
"Well, when I saw you walk off with that guy, I kind of got mad and I uh..."
"You what?" Kat asked sharply.
"I threw the phone against the wall."
"The Samsung? The 3530? You threw that phone against the wall?"
Jess, Mireille and Nat all turned to Kat, their eyes going wide in shock. They all worked with her at the cellular company's customer service and they know how expensive that particular phone was.
"What are you on?" Kat asked. "Crack, heroine? You don't throw that kind of phone against a wall, you idiot!"
"Don't call me an idiot!"
"I call it as I see it! It's a 500$ phone Shane. And people are desperate to get one."
"I'll get another one, easy," he replied off-handedly.
"Not when it's in back order all over North America."
"Huh?"
"It's in back order all over North America. People are putting themselves on waiting lists to get it. and what do you do with yours? You throw it against a wall! I swear to God!"
"You're getting mad at me over a broken cell phone?"
"Yes!"
"I miss you so much," he whispered abruptly, running his hand over his face.
"Me too," Kat whispered, going to the bedroom for more privacy.
"I'll be flying into Montreal on Wednesday morning."
"What time?"
"Nine in the morning."
"Damn it! I work ten thirty to seven."
"It's okay. I'll be with you until Friday morning."
"Oh Shane, that's great."
"I know... you can tell me all about Carnival when I get home."
"Will do. I got to let you go. I have to get ready for tonight's party."
"You're going out tonight?" Shane asked. "What are you going to wear?"
"Well, I picked up this little dress the other day. It's red and ties in the back."
Shane hung his head and took a deep breath. He trusted Katia, no matter what, he trusted her. But it was those guys who were going to be ogling her he didn't trust.
Shane looked out the window and saw Kat pull her car into his driveway. She walked in, her backpack slung across one of her shoulders. She was wearing a long blue skirt with a tiny kangaroo pouch and a light blue tank top. Her hair looked winblown and there was a hop in her step as she hurried over to the door. He beat her to it and took in the sight of her again, as if he was seeing her for the first time.
"Hey," he said, extending his hand to her.
"Hey."
Kat reached out and curled her fingers around his, feeling her stomach flutter and her knees go weak at the feel of his skin against hers. She went straight into his arms, letting him wrap her into a tight embrace. She ran her hands down his sides, breathing in the scent of him. She put her face in the hollow of his neck as he led her inside the house.
"Are you hungry?" he asked her.
Kat just shook her head and laid a gentle kiss over his jaw. The intent in her hooded eyes was clear and he led her up the stairs to the room he thought of as theirs. Softly, tenderly, they made love, tears coming to Katia's eyes as Shane filled her with love.
Thirty minutes later, they sat in bed together, eating cold chicken and salad, feeding it to each other.
"We can't do this anymore," Shane told her, sliding a cherry tomato into her mouth.
"Be apart? No, we can't."
"So quit your job and come on the road with me."
"Why do I have to leave my job? Anyhow, I have to finish school first."
"Why?"
"Why did you finish school?"
"Katia... you're a grown woman, what else do you need to know?"
"A lot... Shane please. Going to school is important to me. I almost gave it up once. I don't want to make that sacrifice again."
"What about me? Aren't I important to you?"
"Don't ask me that. You know better. I need to go to school. I want to have that degree. I want to make my parents proud of me. And there's so much I need to know."
"About literature," he scoffed.
"Don't," she warned, punching his shoulder as hard as she could. "Literature is important to me. I'm a writer and as such, I have to study other writers. You know a lot about wrestling, don't you?"
"But that's different."
"Yeah, it is. But that doesn't make literature less important. Is that clear?"
"Baby, I'm sorry. It's just... God... I see Paul and Joanie on the road together and I want that too. I want you on the road with me, all the time."
"You don't think I want to be out there with you? I do! With everything in my body I want to be out there. Hell, I have to spend my days hearing about Diamond this, Diamond that! She is so damn annoying!"
"Who's Diamond and who's annoying?"
Kat settled down and let her rip, venting to Shane about this idiot girl at work who she hated with a passion. She was describing the boyfriend, Diamond, when the line connected to her house rang. She reached over and picked it up. Shane listened to her as she quickly spouted off words in French and then he saw her face fall. She swung her legs away from him and turned her back to him, covering her face with her free hand. He heard her sobs and reached out to touch her. She shrugged off his touch and kept on talking. Finally, she put the phone down. He sat back, waiting for her to turn to him. She didn't. instead, she spoke.
"My dad had this friend. His name was John Anthony. John was this great guy. He used to pick me and my dad up in the morning when I was a little girl. I still remember the car he drove. A turquoise Dodge Volare with white vinyl seats. I'd always sit between him and my dad and they'd take me to daycare. He had a son about my age. Mick... like Mick Foley. And he had another son, younger, and a little girl who used to be on French TV a lot."
"What happened Kat?" Shane asked softly, coming to sit a bit closer to her.
"He's dead. He killed himself. The cops found his body in a forest near Joliette. He'd hung himself."
"Oh God!"
"Yeah... he was a good guy Shane. A nice guy."
"But why?" Shane asked, echoing the question troubling her heavy heart.
"I don't know Shane," Kat whispered, turning into his arms, "I don't know."
"I'm sorry baby. You cared about him a lot didn't you?"
"Yeah. He always made me smile, no matter what he said. He was nice. That was my godmother," Kat explained, nodding toward the phone. "She's related to John's wife. The funeral's on Saturday. I have to attend."
"I'll rearrange my schedule to be there with you."
"I'd like that."
Shane pulled Katia down on the bed and eased his arms around her as tears trickled down her face.
"Too many funerals Shane," she told him, "too many damn funerals. I've been to too many funeral parlors. I know the hymns too well. I've seen too many coffins. I remember my first funeral. I was six... me and the other kids there were having fun giving each other static shocks by rubbing our feet on the carpets. The last ones... they're all jumbled in my head. I even have funeral wear. It's sickening."
Shane rubbed Kat's hair and watched as she drifted off to sleep, tears staining her cheeks.
Shane had never seen so many Black people all at once outside a movie. And they weren't gangsters or anything. They looked perfectly fine in their dark mourning wear. Thank God Kat had taken care of his clothes this morning. He already stood out with his skin color, standing out with his clothes would have compounded the mistake.
"Shane," Kat was saying, pulling him forward. "I'd like to introduce you to Gary and Frank's parents. This is Jacques and Janine Borno. Janine, Jacques, this is Shane McMahon, my boyfriend."
"Pleasure to meet you. Sorry it had to be in such sad circumstances however."
"Yes. John was a very special man," Janine said, taking in the measure of the man whose arm was around her goddaughter's waist.
"So Katia was telling me."
"Have you seen the family yet?" Katia asked her godmother.
"Yes I have. You go right ahead."
Janine pointed to the exposition room and Katia nodded. She started walking into the room and felt Shane at her back.
"You don't have to come with me."
"I'll just stand here," Shane said.
"Ok. Thank you."
"Come," said Janine, taking Katia by the hand. "I'll introduce you to the rest of John's family."
Shane watched as his girlfriend paid her respects to the widow and the two younger children. When she came to the older son, the slight man with long dread locks trailing down his back and a carefully trimmed goatee, the hug was full of warmth and love... and despair. The two held on to each other for a long minute as Jacques came over to Shane.
"They are friends since they were children," he explained to Shane.
"Yes, Katia was telling me about that. From what she said, John was a very good man."
"Yes. Some problems in the last year or so, but he was a nice man."
Katia and Janine finished greeting the family and Shane watched as Katia went over to some other people, stopping to shake hands and kiss cheeks.
"We wait for them outside," Jacques said, looking at Shane. "Too many people in there."
Shane couldn't have agreed more. So many people staring at him, the lone white boy, questionning his presence, his relationship to Katia. He wondered if any knew who he was, if he was recognized.
"You have known Katia for a long time?" Jacques asked him.
"Almost a year now," Shane said, marvelling at the time. Considering how close he felt to her, it felt like they'd been together longer.
"Oh. She's a nice girl, Katia, no?"
"She's the best. She's intelligent, smart, funny."
Jacques smiled appreciatively. This young man seemed to care about Katia. That was good.
"I met your sons last year," Shane said with a smile. "Gary and Frank, right?"
"Yes... they told me about you. Gary said you had a lot to learn about Katia still."
"I'm still learning."
With Jacques and Janine, Shane and Katia went to the small chapel where the mass was to be held. There wasn't enough seating room for everyone so Shane had to stand behind Katia in the back row. During the mass, after singing an hymn in creole, which made Katia's shoulders shake as she sang, a tape was played on a song in French. Shane quickly moved closer to Kat, covering her shoulders as she cried out loud with many of the people in
the room, going through tissue after tissue, crying her eyes out. After the ceremony, he felt her urgency. She wove her way through the milling crowd, quickly paying her respects to the family. She rushed to the car and gave the keys to Shane.
"Drive," she said, getting into the passenger side, "please."
"What's wrong?" he asked, sliding into the car as she put her head on the head rest.
"Migraine. Just get me home."
At home, Shane put Kat to bed and sat by her as she slept a disturbed sleep. She ground her teeth, muttering in her sleep, tossing around until she woke up, dazed, and ran to the bathroom to throw up. She slept again after that, more soundly. And Shane watched on, worried.
Kat stirred back to life carefully. She made a quick inventory of her body before opening her eyes. Thankfully, the room was still bathed in darkness and her eyes, made more sensitive to the light by the migraine, didn't hurt too much. They still hurt slightly, as they always did the morning after, but not as badly as last night. She remained lying on her side for a long time, hoping the migraine was gone. Mornings had often lied to her,
making her believe she was all right when she was anything but. It didn't hurt that much. Pain lingered. It always lingered, making her weary, making her cagey and careful for her next bout with the migraine monster. Slowly, she swung her legs out of bed and gingerly put her feet down. Her robe was tossed on a chair. On her way there, she saw herself in the dresser. How awful she looked. Her eyes were the high point of her face, veined with red as they were, surrounded by impossibly large and dark circles. Her hair was a mess that would have made the Tina Turner of the 1980s proud. And when had she changed into her pajamas?
Kat heard Shane moving around downstairs and sighed. Poor baby... he had had no preparations for her migraines or how to deal with them. Then again, how could she prepare him for it? Baby, everyonce in a while, I get these debilitating headaches that leave me completely inept. I won't be able to stand any sound, any light, any change in my environment. I will throw up, I will moan and about twenty-four hours after it starts, I start feeling better.
The young woman picked up a comb on the dresser and ran it through her messy hair, wincing as she hit a few snags. And yet she went on until her hair was tamed into a somewhat respectable shape and covered it with a scarf. Moving slowly, Kat shuffled to the chair where her robe had been casually thrown and slid it on. Feeling proud of her meager accomplishment, she started to make her way down the stairs.
What the fuck am I doing? Shane asked himself as he puttered around the kitchen. Is she even going to be hungry when she wakes up? And if she is, what is she going to be hungry for? Will she be in the mood for a big breakfast since she hadn't had any solid food since yesterday morning? Or will she want to eat something light to keep her stomach from rebelling again? And what would she want to drink? Milk? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Water?
"Tea," he heard her weak voice before him, "Earl Grey. Hot. And toasts. Two. No butter."
"What the fuck are you doing out of bed?" Shane asked, rushing to her side. "Come on, you're not..."
"Shane, I know what I want or do not want. And right now, I want to sit down. Here."
Shane helped Katia to a chair and carefully sat her down. Then he ran to the living room and came back with a blanket. She looked up at him, accepting the blanket.
"You were shivering in my arms all day yesterday," he explained, putting it over her shoulders.
"Yeah. That happens. Shane, I wanted to say... I'm sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
"For not telling you about the migraines, about how they knock me out. I should have prepared you for them."
"Kat, you don't control those migraines. You couldn't prepare me for them."
"I still get the feeling I should have done something more. I mean, you had no way of preparing for them."
"Baby, it's less about my preparing for them than about you having them."
Kat sighed and at the same time, her stomach cried for food. Shane smiled at her tenderly and got up to prepare her food. Five minutes later, she was sitting in front of unbuttered toasts and a weak cup of Earl Grey tea, Shane by her side.
"Did I do okay?" he asked.
"You did perfect," she whispered, nuzzling his neck, "thank you."
Slowly and carefully, she chewed the bread, washing it down with tea. When she was done, Kat sighed and put her head down on her folded arms.
"You're tired," Shane whispered, "I'll take you back to bed."
"No, not bed. I spent the whole day there. That room needs to air out, get rid of its sickness. I want to go to the living room."
Shane started picking her up but Katia stopped him.
"I think I can make it in there on my own. Thank you though."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Do me a favor and refill that cup of tea for me."
Kat settled down on the comfortable couch, covering her shivering body with the blanket, curling her body into a tight ball. She turned on the TV and listened more than she watched Battledome before dozing off. When she woke up, her head was nestled in Shane's lap as he watched the French translation of Homicide.
"Baby, that's in French," she told him.
"I know. That's why it's so fucking fascinating. How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right."
"Is the migraine still eating away at you?"
"Not that much," she whispered.
"Katia, while you slept, I checked out some of the migraines website on the Internet."
"Shane..."
"Listen, we have to eliminate stress from your life. I say you quit your job and we'll set you up on weekly sessions with a massage therapist..."
"Okay."
"... And then, we'll make appointment with doctors to have your head checked. It might be a neurological problem. We have to get that looked into..."
"I agree."
"Huh?"
"I agree. Shane, I've been thinking about taking care of all these things but I just haven't had the time, you know."
"Good. And you're going to have to quit smoking."
Kat bit her lower lip and didn't answer.
"Don't try thinking of a cover lie. I saw the carton at your house. I threw it out."
"Shane!"
"No. Kat, I love you. The migraines I can fix. Whatever addiction you might have to nicotine, I can help you get over. A man picks the battles he's going to win. I am soooooooo winning this battle."
"Okay. You win."
"That easy? Wow! I seem to be on a winning streak today. Don't go back to school."
"You're pushing your luck little man!"
"Hey, I wouldn't be much of a man if I didn't try."
"If you quit your job, will you be able to join me on the road until you have to start school again?"
"I'd like that."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Kat nestled even more in the blanket, enjoying the feeling of Shane's hand on her head, stroking it gently. She fell asleep again.
"Dad, it's not like I ask you for time off all the time. It's just... Kat was sick yesterday and I'm worried about her... she got this migraine when we were at the funeral... you know what Dad, I think you're wrong... I know you're wrong... after seeing her go through it, I can tell you, without the shadow of a doubt, that a migraine is more than just a big headache... I will not just toss her a few Tylenols... damn it Dad!"
Shane sighed and sat down behind his desk, listening to his father as Vince listed all the reasons while Shane couldn't and shouldn't spend the rest of the week in Montreal. He hated, absolutely hated, not being heard.
"Dad, she's sick and I'm staying in Montreal... it's not a negociation Dad... I'm not due to be on TV for a long while now... I can take my meetings at home... I have a webcam and everything... it'll be easy to set up... Dad, I am not giving in on this!"
Katia walked into the office, tears in her eyes. She hadn't meant to cause dissension between Shane and his family. "It's okay Shane," she whispered, "you can go. I'll be all right."
"No Kat," Shane said, purposely loudly so his father could hear, "it's not all right. You need me with you."
"Shane, please don't do this."
"What Dad? I'll ask her. Baby, do you mind if we put my dad on speakerphone?"
"Why?"
"He had something he wants to tell you I guess."
"Sure, go ahead."
Shane pressed the speakerphone button and pulled his girlfriend into his lap, tucking the edges of the blanket around her body. "All right Dad, we're both here."
"Hello Katia," said Vince.
"Hello Mr. McMahon."
"My son tells me you have migraines. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Listen. If you're willing to let Shane come to Stamford on Wednesday for a very important meeting we have, I'll set you an appointment with a top neurologist. I can't have you be knocked out by headaches."
"I'd like that," Katia whispered, nestling into Shane's arms, "I want to get rid of those migraines Mr. McMahon. I really do."
"Call me Vince. Consider it done. And Katia, look after my boy, will you?"
"Will do," Kat whispered, closing her eyes peacefully, "will do."
"Katia," said Vince when she got in the limousine, "welcome back to Stamford."
"Thank you," she said, blushing as he leaned over and pecked her cheek.
"Come on," Shane said, coming behind her, "scoot over."
The young woman sat closer to Vince and took a deep breath. She was sitting in the back of a limo with the two most powerful men in the WWF and she wasn't a ring rat. What a life!
"All right," Vince said after exchanging a few words with the driver, "we're dropping you off at the doctor's office and then we're off to a meeting. I'll send the limo back for you and after that, the driver will take you to the house. Okay?"
"Yeah sure."
No, she wanted to scream. She didn't want to do this on her own. She wanted Shane to stand by her side. She blinked a few times as Shane and his father started to talk, shutting herself off to them, drifting into a world of her making. In her world, a character named Cory was coming to life and falling hopelessly in love with none other than the Heartbreak Kid himself.
"Okay," Vince said at the limo came to a halt. "We're here. Your neurologist is called Dr. Anderson. His office is on the second floor. Now, if he gives you a prescription, fill it at the drugstore downstairs and give them this card."
"What is it?" Katia asked.
"They won't charge you that way," he explained. "Now, go on and have this taken care of."
Katia got out of the limo and before she could say goodbye to Shane, it was speeding off. Damn Vince anyways. He had arranged this appointment, not for her, just to get his son in for that meeting. Angry, she stalked into the building and made her way to Dr. Anderson's office. She waited for five minutes and was ushered into his office. Dr. Anderson was a gentleman in his mid-fifties who'd apparently been balding for a few years
but was accepting it, wearing his circle of hair cropped close to his skull. He was wearing wire-trimmed glasses and took them off when Kat walked into this office.
"Miss Dorsaint, a pleasure to meet you."
"Same here Dr. Anderson. I'm very happy you could see me on such short notice."
"Well, when Vince mentionned migraines, I figured I could make an exception."
"Thank you, it means a lot to me."
"Have a seat. And we'll review your medical history."
For the next fifteen minutes, Katia sat quietly, answering Dr. Anderson's questions about her personal and medical history. She watched his pen glide across sheet after sheet, trying to read his chicken-scratch hand-writing upside down. Once he was done, Dr. Anderson had her run through a battery of several physical tests. Then he showed her back to her seat.
"All right, the first thing we're going to have you do is a full battery of blood tests."
"Okay," Kat said, taking the blood test script from his hand.
"Then, I want you to make an appointment with a dentist."
"Why?"
"You grind your teeth a lot Katia and from what I can see, that might be causing some of your headaches."
"The pressure in my jaw."
"Right. I want you to be fitted for an mouth plate which you're going to have to sleep with every night."
"What?" she asked, thinking of Shane and his thoughts on the mouth plate.
"You grind your teeth at night. The plate will help reduce that problem."
"I see. What else?"
"I want to predict some more powerful migraine medicine. Here," he said, handing her a medical script. "This is for Maxalt. It's a powerful migraine medicine and you should take it on a migraine's onset. Don't wait, take it right away."
"Okay."
"And Katia," Dr. Anderson said, "relax. I think that's the most important thing for you right now. Relaxation."
Kat sat back in the back of the limo. Relaxation, the doctor had prescribed. Relaxation. She thought the word over, turned it around in her head. She didn't know how to relax. As far as she could remember, she'd always been busy. Even as a kid. When she wasn't in school, she was taking lessons, ballet, Haitian folk dancing, swimming, speech, piano. And when she'd hit her teenage years, her parents had taught her the importance of giving back to her community so she'd spent a lot of Saturday mornings in
a community center, helping younger kids with their homework. She'd even
wanted to be a teacher then.
"Miss Dorsaint," the driver said, opening the door, "we're here."
"Yes, thank you."
Katia slowly walked to the house, following the driver who was carrying
her bags. Mary was waiting for her.
"Mary, hello," Kat said, smiling tightly. "How are you?"
"Miss Katia, I'm fine thank you and you?"
"I'm all right."
"How was the doctor's appointment?"
""It was all right, but I have to get blood work done in the morning."
"So you're fasting?"
"Yes. that's the word, fasting," Katia said, rubbing her temple. "For fourteen hours. The appointment is at seven this morning."
"All right. I'll have a big meal ready for you by four, all right?"
"Perfect, thank you very much Mary. Is anyone home?"
"No. By the way, Mr. Vince called to say that Mr. Shane won't be in until seven."
"Seven? All right. I can find something to keep me busy until then."
"All right. Let me show you to Mr. Shane's rooms. Mrs. Linda said it was okay with you to share them with him."
Katia blushed furiously as Mary led her upstairs. Shane's rooms were more like a suite, complete with a bathroom, a living room and an office. She didn't dare try out the bed. As soon as Mary left her alone, the young woman stripped out of her prim summer dress and changed into a pair of beige shorts and a white tank top. Covering her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses, she headed out to the small patio area and sat down with a book. She couldn't focus enough to read. Her mind was filled with characters from her stories, begging to be heard, begging to have their voices heard. Quickly, she damned herself for leaving her portable computer at home and ran downstairs to find Mary.
"Mary, is there a computer in the house that I can use? Anything with Internet access?"
"Sure. There's the one in the den."
"Are you sure I can use it?"
"Of course, go right ahead."
When Shane finally came home, Mary informed him that Katia had been working in the den since she'd gotten home from her doctor's appointment. Shane found her sitting in front of the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she wrote, headphones on her head, feeding her music she bopped her head to. He tiptoed over to her and read over her shoulder as she typed furiously. He saw she was engaged in a chat with... CarmieMcMahon and KrissyCopeland. He stopped himself from laughing and read on.
CarmieMcMahon: but rodney's the cutest one
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: he's in the posse, he doesn't count
CarmieMcMahon: does too
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: does not
KatWildMartin: sorry priss, but i got to go with carm on this one... posse's not necessarily a bad thing, guy wise
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: god, not you too
KatWildMartin: joey abs... grrrrrrrrrrrr
At that, Shane started laughing so hard that Kat heard him and sighed as she took off her headphones.
KatWildMartin: bf just walked in...
CarmieMcMahon: did he read that?
KatWildMartin: that's what he's laughing his ass off
CarmieMcMahon: rotflmao
"Joey Abs?" Shane wheezed through his laughter, "he makes you go grrrrrrrrrr?"
"Shane... don't."
"You do realize his abs aren't that great, right? It's just his name."
"Shut up... now go away, I'm busy."
"No, I'm curious. Who's CarmieMcMahon?"
KatWildMartin: bf wants to know who you are, sis
CarmieMcMahon: WHAT?
KatWildMartin: he asked
CarmieMcMahon: tell him nothing
KatWildMartin: why not?
CarmieMcMahon: ... just don't...
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: why can't she tell her bf who you are?
"Let me guess, CarmieMcMahon knows about me but KrissyMcMahonCopeland
doesn't, right?"
"Right."
"So tell her."
"I am, I am, don't rush me."
KatWildMartin: because you know my bf
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: i do? is he cute?
KatWildMartin: YES HE IS!
KatWildMartin: he typed that, not me... but yeah, he is cute
KatWildMartin: THANK YOU!
CarmieMcMahon: that's not really him, is it? you're just role-playing with us, right?
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: WHO THE HELL IS YOUR BF?
KatWildMartin: shane mcmahon
KrissyMcMahonCopeland: lmao... you can't go out with him, he's Sherrie's guy
"Who's Sherrie?"
"Your... ah damn... give me a second."
KatWildMartin: i gotta go... i got some explaining to do
"All right," Shane said, sitting back in his chair, "so explain..."
"Well, I told you about the mailing lists I'm on right?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, that girl, CarmieMcMahon, she wrote this story a while back called Corporate Takeover. In it, she was your father's illegitimate daughter. Don't laugh! It's a good story."
"My father's illegitimate kid? My mom would have his balls in a sling for that."
"Trust me, she does."
As Kat explained the story to Shane, he marvelled at the tightly knit community. The relationships, the friendships, the fun, the party.
"Will you ever let me see the transcripts for those Guttersville parties?"
"No."
"Why not? They sound like fun."
"Shane, no..."
"Please."
"NO!"
"Fine... now what about this Brittni chick?"
"Brittni's different... she's not that close to Carm and them... but in many ways, she's my best friend."
"Really? Better than me?"
"Don't ask me that... it's too difficult for me to say... you know, we connect differently. With BritBrit... it's just not the same."
"But you can't explain it."
"I can't explain it."
"I don't know what to tell you... I wish I could understand," Shane sighed as he sat down on the chair and pulled Kat into his lap.
"It's okay, you don't have to. But you have to respect that the relationships I have with them. It's not because they're online that they're not important."
"But babe..."
"They're my best friends Shane. Not two ways about it. That's just how it's going to be."
For the next couple of weeks, Katia got a different appreciation for Shane's work in the WWF. Though he kept her from participating, she got to watch him at work and got to see the businessman he also was. Gone was the man who used his pouty lower lip to get his way. When it came to business, Shane was definitely his father's son, and yet, he wasn't. Shane was more of a people's person, like his mother. But ruthless when it came to doing whatever was right for the WWF. It was compelling to watch him at work.
But all too soon, Katia had to go back to Montreal and become a student again. But this time around, she was going at it full-time and taking five classes that really interested her. One class focusing on Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, another on British literature of the 19th century, one on contemporary Canadian literature and her personal favorite, a creative writing class.
For the first time in a long time, she was enjoying school because she knew that as soon as she was done with that one semester, she would get her degree and it would be all over. Shane and her had been making tentative plans for the future. Marriage had come up a few times and as more time passed, the young woman was getting more and more used to it.
But Shane had yet to meet her parents.
Katia had told them about him as much as she could and she'd told them about who he was, what he did for a living, everything. Naturally, they had their doubts, that with him being in the WWF and all but their daughter's staunch defense of him and what he did for a living had surprised them both.
"Are you sure about this young man?" her father has asked her.
"Yes. Regardless of what his family is involved in, he's a good man."
"And he loves you?"
"Yes."
"He's not going to hit you, is he?"
Kat almost saw her father roll his eyes skyward at her mother's question.
"Would any daughter of ours let any man hit her? Specially if she had a mother like you?" he asked his wife.
"I'm asking, in case he gets confused and thinks he's in the ring when he's at home."
"Mom! Please, as if I'd let him hit me that way," Kat sighed, "and anyhow, I know how to counter any moves he tries on me."
"Good for you."
"You do? Katia..." her mother began.
"Okay, now's as good a time to tell you guys about this... once I get my degree in December, I'm going to start training for the WWF."
There was a long silence and Kat's head dropped. They were disappointed in her choice, she knew that and she wished she could be what they wanted her to be, a lawyer, an engineer, a doctor... but she was a writer, no more,
no less. And maybe she'd be a wrestler, at the worst, a commentator.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "it's not what you want for me. But I like it... and it's not as dangerous as it looks... and I won't be in the ring that much... I'll be good at it, I swear. And Shane will look after me. And I'll look after myself."
Kat didn't say anything else. How else could she defend her choice? She was doing what she wanted with her life.
"He's making you happy, this young man?" her father asked.
"Yes, he is."
"And he's making you fight, like a savage," her mother said, her tone grim, "every one else has daughters who are lawyers, engineers, doctors... my daughter's going to be a savage."
"Mom..."
"Katia," her father said, over his wife's complaints, "are you going to keep writing?"
"Yes, of course."
"And you'll be happy?"
"Yes. Dad, he loves me. And I love him."
"Good. I'll speak to your mother. I'm not sure I totally approve and that means you and your young man will have to convince me this is really what you want to do. And we'll be home for Christmas and New Year's, okay?"
"You will? Oh I can't wait to see you both. And Dad, I'll have my degree by then."
"I know. I'm very proud of you."
Kat and her father made their good-byes as her mother kept on mumbling. Christmas. She had a lot to do until then.
Katia completely forgot Dr. Anderson's orders to relax during the second half of her semester. She was running back and forth between school and both of her homes, studying, writing, doing everything. Shane let her go, spending time with her whenever he could and finding her to be more and more interesting. Through it all, she kept working out, somehow managing to juggle school, him, her writing and her training.
By the end of the semester though, she was worn out. When she came out of her final exam and saw Shane waiting there for her, she went to him, wrapped her arm around his waist and allowed him to lead her to his chauffeured car.
"What are we going to do?" she asked through a yawn.
"We're going to go home and cuddle," he said, "don't forget, your folks are getting in tomorrow and mine the day after. We need a day of rest."
"My mother's coming in," Kat sighed, "we need way more than just a day."
Shane and Kat stood in the airport waiting with a crowd of boisterous Haitians for their loved ones to come out. Every time the treated glass doors opened, Shane felt Katia's fingers tighten around his. She was smiling from ear to ear, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He could only imagine how it would feel to see his parents after almost two years.
"Are you okay?" he asked her for the nth time.
"No... I don't know. I'm just so happy..."
And off she was like a horse out of the starting gate, her jacket flapping in the air as she ran into the arms of a man less than an inch taller than her with a crown of cropped white hair. Father and daughter shared the same long, lean looks, Shane mused as she hugged her father, moving the luggage cart to the side. Then, she moved to a woman who couldn't be more than 5' 7". She had the kind of round, comfortable body often associated
with motherhood, with a face that would mirror her daughter's in about thirty years.
Shane gave them a few moments to talk and reconnect and joined them.
"Mom, Dad," Katia said with a smile, "I'd like to introduce you to Shane McMahon, my boyfriend."
"Monsieur and Madame Dorsaint, ça me fait plaisir de vous rencontrer."
Shane got the pleased to meet you sentence Katia and him had spent days practicing, along with other words in French in preparation for the visit.
Her father smiled and offered a firm handshake. As for her mother, she looked up at him somewhat suspiciously and rewarded him with dazzling smile.
"You're as good as family now," she said, "I'm not going to shake your hand."
And with strength Shane couldn't know she had, Katia's mother pulled him down to her level and pecked his cheeks.
"You know," she told her daughter, "for a white boy, he doesn't look too bad. But I think you feed him a bit too well."
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