Kath saw Lily too, and stood up.
All last year, through letters and long-distance phone calls, Lily had imagined her, but now she realized her imagination had left out all the important details. As Kath stepped out from behind the table, Lily remembered the way she stood, hands nervously hidden in her pockets. As Lily came closer, she saw the familiar, slightly shy expression on Kath’s face, and the same patches of color in her pale cheeks.
“Hello,” Kath said softly.
“Hello,” Lily replied. They were separated by only a few feet now, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to greet her. Shaking hands seemed ridiculous, and she couldn’t kiss her on the cheek as if they were merely friends.
“Would you like to sit down?” Kath said somewhat formally, and pulled out a chair.
“Thank you.” Lily sat down, and Kath’s hand touched her shoulder very briefly before she went back to her seat on the other side of the table.
Kath was wearing a collared shirt and trousers, and she had gotten herself a haircut—recently, Lily guessed, because it was trimmed so close against her neck. Kath still had the same delicately shaped mouth, the same long-lashed blue eyes. She smiled at Lily, and the longer they looked at each other, the deeper her smile went.
“It’s really good to see you,” Kath said in her straightforward way, but Lily understood the heartfelt weight of her words.
Lily couldn’t stop smiling either. “It’s really good to see you, too.”
“How was your trip?”
“It was fine. It’s not very interesting.”
“I haven’t seen you in over a year,” Kath said. “Everything you say is interesting.”
Lily’s eyes grew hot. She looked down at the wooden table and saw that there were already two glasses of beer there. “Did you buy these?”
“Yes. If you want something else, I’ll go to the bar.”
“Oh no. This is fine.” Lily picked up her glass, and Kath did the same, and they gently knocked them together.
“Happy New Year,” Kath said.
“Kung hei faat ts’oi,” Lily responded, and they both took a sip from their beers.
“I’m serious,” Kath said. “I want to know how you are.”
Lily was so nervous all of a sudden, as if she had forgotten how to talk to Kath. They had shared a lot in letters over the past year—maybe she had shared too much—but writing something down was different from meeting face to face. And Kath had always been more reserved in her letters. Perhaps she hadn’t told Lily everything. What if she had met someone else? It had been a long time, and they didn’t live in the same city anymore. They’d never made any promises to each other. Nothing was certain about the future.
Kath scooted her chair around the table so that her back was to the door and she was closer to Lily. A moment later Lily felt Kath’s hand reach for hers under the table, lacing their fingers together as if to hold her still, right here, right now. This was certain.
“Lily,” Kath said softly. “Tell me everything.”
* * *
—
They talked for almost two hours. They already knew the basic details of their lives, but saying them out loud made things real. Lily had finished high school last spring and spent the summer doing fill-in secretarial work at the Jet Propulsion Lab, before starting college at UCLA in the fall. She lived in an apartment in Westwood now, with another Chinese girl, and she was studying math. She told Kath about a new class she had just started on programmable computers, which Aunt Judy thought would become important in the future.
Kath had moved to Berkeley last spring, temporarily living with Jean, but had since found an apartment in Oakland. She lived with two other gay girls; one was at Cal and the other was a mechanic. Kath had found a job working at a tiny airport in Oakland and was about to start flying lessons. She finally got her high school diploma in December, finishing it by correspondence with the help of Miss Weiland.
“Are you going to go to Cal now?” Lily asked.
“Maybe. I’m too late for this semester, but maybe in the fall.”
“What about UCLA? Some really smart people go there.”
Kath laughed. “I’ll think about it. But . . . I don’t want to give up my job. I need the money, and I just convinced my boss to train me to fix the airplanes. It’s exactly what I want.”
Lily felt a little bolder now. “It’s not everything you want, is it?”
Kath smiled. “No, it’s not.”
Lily went warm all over and glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons of the bar. It had filled up since she arrived, and she wondered what time it was. She reluctantly looked at her watch. “Oh no,” she said, “I have to go. I’m going to be late for dinner.” She stood up, already imagining her mother’s curious look and the lie she’d have to tell her.
“I’ll walk you out,” Kath said, standing as well.
“I don’t want to go,” Lily admitted.
“I don’t want you to go either.”
At that moment a man laughed very loudly down at the other end of the bar, and they were reminded once more of where they were. Kath said nothing more, but she helped Lily into her coat before putting on her own. They walked quickly and silently past the other patrons, who barely noticed them leaving.
Kath held the door open for her, and Lily stepped out into the city and saw that night had fallen while they were talking. The lights were on all along Columbus Avenue, and she smelled the distinct cool scent of the fog rolling in. She felt Kath’s hand on her back, nudging her over into Adler Place, the narrow street between Vesuvio’s and the next building. The other end of Adler Place opened onto Grant Avenue, and Lily saw the Chinatown streetlamps glowing in the distance.
“Come out with me tomorrow night,” Kath said, drawing close to her.
Lily backed away into the shadow of the building, past the light that spilled out of Vesuvio’s windows, and Kath followed. “I can’t go tomorrow,” Lily said. “It’s the New Year parade.”
“What about the night after?”
“Monday night?”
“Yes, Monday.”