“I know, Mom.”
“If you want someone, that is. Women don’t have to have a man to feel fulfilled.”
Marie snorted from the kitchen. “She knows, Mom. You remind us often.”
“Don’t get me wrong, girls. I loved your dad. I miss him every day. But he wouldn’t want to see you dependent on someone else for your happiness any more than I do.”
Grace rolled herself farther into the living room. “Any chance we could put up the tree while we’re all here as a family? You know that’s my favorite thing about Christmas, especially when I’ve got my two girls with me.”
“Sounds great,” Cat said absentmindedly. Her brain felt fuzzy and nausea had rooted itself in her stomach. Three stories. Three men. It was too much to ignore now, though she desperately wanted to.
She took a deep breath as Ben Cooper’s face flashed through her mind. Where did he fit in? Had she written a story about a computer science professor, too? One who already had a girlfriend? Closing her eyes, she clutched the back of the sofa for support. The manuscript, the stories. None of it made any sense. She had to ask.
“Mom, do you know anything about a medieval manuscript Dad had?”
“What manuscript?”
Cat pressed her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to stave off the horrendous headache now pounding through her temples. “You sent it to me a few weeks ago—it was in with some other papers? It was wrapped up like a present, actually.”
“I don’t remember that.”
Cat’s shoulders slumped. “So you don’t have any info on it?”
“I’m sorry, no. Is it authentic?”
“Seems to be. Never mind. I was hoping you’d know where he got it.” So much for that. Pushing the thought of men—any man—firmly from her mind, Cat swallowed and squared her shoulders. There must be an explanation, but she wasn’t going to think about it right now. She couldn’t.
“Unless...” her mother said.
Cat’s eyes flew back to her.
“There was something Grandma Schreiber gave to your dad a long time ago. When I tried to look at it, she motioned me away, saying it was a family secret. As if I wasn’t family.” Grace made a disgusted noise. “People always said Grandma was batty, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Is that what it was? Some sort of manuscript?”
Cat nodded, suddenly sorry she’d brought it up, especially since Marie was now rotating her finger in circles near the side of her head. “Looniness obviously runs in the family,” she said, pointing at Cat.
Grace ignored Marie. “You’ll have to show it to me sometime. Unless you sell it. I bet it’s worth a pretty penny.” Wheeling herself over to the stereo, she pulled out a CD. After a minute, the familiar strains of The Nutcracker filled the room.
Cat was grateful her mother had lost interest in the subject, although it frustrated her to no end not to have more information about her dad’s odd gift. Especially if it were a family heirloom.
As they put up the tree and hung the ornaments one by one, Cat tried to relax and enjoy being with her family again, doing the Christmas traditions they’d done since she was a baby. It pained her to think how much she was going to miss them when she returned to Virginia.
Maybe she should move to Ohio. But chasing after family wasn’t any better than chasing after a man, was it? How about being chased after by three men I created? A nervous laugh escaped her, and Marie and Grace both turned around.
“Nothing. Nothing!” Cat held up the ornament she’d unwrapped. “I found the old Pac-Man ornament and was remembering how we used to dance to Pac-Man Fever. That’s all.”
Marie raised her eyebrow.
“That’s all,” Cat repeated.
And I’m crazy. Absolutely nuts. Bonkers. Because I’m more and more convinced that the three men I’m dating, or was dating, were somehow created ... by me.
An hour later, as the three women were sipping hot chocolate in front of the tree, Cat’s phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Catherine. It’s William. William Dawes.”
The room started to spin. Half of her wanted to hang up the phone; the other half wanted to drill him with questions in an effort to prove she either had or hadn’t made him up.
She attempted to sound casual. “Oh, hi. How are you?”
“I’m well. I hope the same is for you and your mother. How is she?”
“Much better. She’s got a ways to go, but she’s back to her old self, at least personality-wise.”
Grace gave her a sidelong glance as if to ascertain whether that was a positive or negative statement.
“I’m so glad to hear that. I would have checked in before, but the whole family came home for Thanksgiving at my parents’ house, and then the office has been swamped.”
“It’s all right, William, I wasn’t expecting you to. But I wanted to thank you again for all you’ve done for me, especially since you hardly know me. I truly appreciate it.”
Maybe I didn’t make him up. Maybe it really is all one big weird coincidence. He certainly sounds perfectly normal and not like a figment of my imagination. My apparently quite creative imagination.
“You’re more than welcome, Catherine. It was my pleasure. In fact, that’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh?”
“I spoke with Eliza to check in on the store, and she mentioned you were returning to Charlottesville tomorrow. I asked her how you were getting there. She said she didn’t know.”
“I’m renting a car.”
“May I send the plane for you? I won’t be able to accompany you, as there is a shareholders’ meeting tomorrow in New York, but the plane is yours if you want it. I’ll be traveling with my father.”
“On his plane?” Cat joked without thinking.
There was a small pause. “Well, yes. Listen, if you would prefer to drive, I’ll understand.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t usually rub elbows with folks who own jets. I was gauche, and I apologize.” Her sister watched her as she fumbled for words.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Anyway, um, sure. If the offer still stands, I accept. It would save me six hours of driving. And when you’re driving through West Virginia, those hours are long.”
“Not a fan of West Virginia?”
Thank goodness he no longer seemed offended. “It’s definitely beautiful, but after a while, how many more mountains and trees can one stand?”
William laughed out loud. “In any case,” he said, “if you can be at the airport at 7:00 p.m., someone will meet you at the main entrance and escort you to the plane.”
“Thanks again, William. It all feels like too much, but, um, they tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll take it.” Besides, if I’ve created you to be my savior, I might as well let you do the saving.
“Wonderful. I’m still hoping you are interested in that second date. I’ve been thinking about you and looking forward to it.”
“Yes, absolutely. That’d be great.”
“Good. I’ll talk with you once you’re back home. Take care, Catherine.”
“Thank you, William. You, too.”
Grace spoke the minute Cat hung up the phone. “I take it that was your ‘Prince’?” She hooked her fingers in the air, making mock quote marks to emphasize the word.
“Oh, Mom.” If you only knew. If you only knew.
“I would say if he’s sending a plane to retrieve you, the answer is yes,” Marie said. “That’s almost as good as riding up on a horse.”
“I have to concede that.” Cat raised her brows at Marie. “It’s as if he’s everything I’ve wanted a man to be,” she continued in an exaggerated tone.
Marie snorted, waving her sister off with a hand.
“What are you two are talking about?” Grace demanded. Neither daughter answered her. “Fine. Whatever. Sister secrets.” She looked at Cat. “I’m not glad to be injured, but I am glad you
came. We miss you, especially during the holidays. Will you be back at Christmas?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try. I’m just glad you are okay and I have something to come back to.”
“Honey, you always have somewhere to come back to. Even if only the memories in your head and the photographs on your walls.” Grace gestured to the collection by the stairs. Cat swallowed after spying a picture of herself as a toddler with her dad, laughing with outstretched hands as she sat on his shoulders at some parade. Lord, she missed him.
“The people you love are always in your heart, whether you’re physically with them or not,” her mother added.
“Well, that’s eerily maudlin. I think your pain medicines are on overdrive, Mom,” Marie said, hopping up. “I say it’s time to watch Christmas Vacation. Cat, you find the movie. I’ll make the popcorn.” She headed into the kitchen.
“It’s in the cabinet over the stove,” Grace called, wheeling herself after Marie. “Don’t forget the butter.”
I love them so much. Too bad I’m going insane.
Chapter 18
“God, it’s good to be home. Thanks for picking me up.” Cat folded Eliza into a giant hug.
“Thanks for everything, Lizzie.”
When Cat didn’t release her right away, Eliza gave an uncomfortable giggle. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. But I think I’m going to have to write that Grayson test now.”
Eliza reared back, studying Cat’s face. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”
The two headed out the airport entrance to Eliza’s car. Along the way, Cat told her all about her date with William, her mother ... and about the email she’d written long ago.
Eliza took it all in stride—a far cry from Cat’s reaction. Even now, in relating the details, the whole thing felt surreal, as if she were watching a movie, a film of someone else’s life. She wished she could skip to the ending, to find out how it all turned out. Was she in a romantic comedy or a horror flick?
Eliza gave her a knowing grin. “Told you so.” Another street or two passed. “I still want my Darcy. In a story to outdo that Nicholas one, baby.”
“It could all still be coincidence. Or, as you yourself, suggested, that Law of Attraction sort of thing. Marie agreed.” A scoffing noise was her only answer.
Later that evening, Eliza wandered into the living room to find Cat sitting on the sofa, bent over her laptop, staring at the screen. “Whatcha doing?”
Cat jumped, startled by the interruption. “Geez, you scared me.”
“Who else do you think is running around in this apartment?”
“It’s not that. I was just lost in this story. I’m trying to figure out what details to add about Grayson. I gave him a sister named Amaryllis. Isn’t that a ridiculous name? She’s a fashion model who’s into insects—as in, she wants to be an entomologist.”
Eliza wrinkled up her nose. “Bugs?”
Cat grinned. “I know. But there will be no mistaking it if Gray shows up with a bug-loving, twiggy sister named after a flower, right? And as ludicrous as that all sounds, I feel even more ludicrous for believing for a second this could be real. I feel idiotic for trying. It just can’t be real. It can’t.” The grin left her face.
“That you created him?”
Cat rolled her eyes. “What else would I be talking about? Of course that.”
“Sorry,” Eliza said with a shrug. “I think it is real. And I think it’d be awesome to have such power.”
Cat set the laptop aside for a minute. “But what of the potential repercussions?”
“What repercussions?” Eliza flopped down on the sofa next to her friend. “You get to create your own reality. You can have the Perfect Man you’ve always dreamed of. You can fix all your problems. Sounds ideal to me.”
“Does it? Does it truly? I mean, I know everybody thinks they want the easy life, but ...” Cat’s fingers rubbed the keyboard. “It’s been my fantasy for six years, or, if I’m honest with myself, even longer—at least since my dad died—to have the fairytale story that felt like it was ripped away from me.”
“Um, Cat?” Eliza interjected. “Ryan was no fairytale hero.”
“I know that now. I probably knew that then. I just wanted to believe so badly, to believe the stories in the books could be true, instead of the misery and suffering I see all around me. The misery and suffering you and I’ve both gone through.” She ran her fingers through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block it all out. “But I couldn’t believe. Not anymore. I shut it all away. The pain. The longing. The hope.”
After a moment, she opened her eyes and smiled at Eliza fondly. “So, yeah, it seems ideal to have everything just the way you want it, to be able to stop worrying about things so much. And yet, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right to have everything handed to me the way it has been in the last month. It doesn’t feel real, and I’m not sure it could ever feel real, could it?”
Eliza nodded, saying nothing. She grabbed Cat’s hand and squeezed it.
With her other hand, Cat took a sip of the tea from the mug she had resting on the side table. “Maybe my mom is right,” she continued, “and character-building experiences are what give meaning to our lives. You can’t have a character-building experience without some struggle, without some challenge, right? Of course, whenever Mom tells me that when I’m in the middle of something crappy, I want to tell her to kiss off, but still.”
“Excuse me, did you really just say a ‘character-building experience?’” Eliza exclaimed with a laugh. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now? Building characters?” She gestured at the laptop.
Cat had to chuckle. “Come on, you know that’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe not, but it’s still funny,” Eliza said, chortling.
Grabbing a pillow, Cat bopped her lightly on the head. “What I want, if anything, dear friend, is a man of character—not a character of a man I’ve created. At least I don’t think I want that. After all, it’s disheartening to think the only reason Grayson wanted to sleep with me is because I wrote him that way—assuming I did, I guess. Not that it makes much sense otherwise that he’d be into a woman ten years his senior.”
Eliza pursed her lips. “I get that. But just because you’ve created them doesn’t mean you’ve controlled everything they’ve done, right down to the details, right?” She leapt up from the sofa, pacing back and forth. “I mean, look at Derrick. When you wrote about him, he was in high school. You didn’t write anything beyond that, and yet here he is, having a life, wanting to date you, even though it’s years later. And as to Grayson—first of all, stop underestimating yourself, Catherine. I know you consider yourself a Plain Jane, but you’re wrong. And I’m not just talking looks. There’s something about you that attracts others—when you let it. I think it’s what drew me to you, too.”
Eliza paused, gaping at her in mock horror. “Unless you’re telling me you created me, too?” She snickered at her own joke, and then asked in a less certain voice, “You didn’t, did you?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Eliza. Of course not.”
“Well, anyway, you may have written about Grayson as a sex object, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only reason he’s into you.” Eliza stopped moving for a minute. “He’s younger than you are. How does that work into this whole scheme, when you wrote about him years ago?”
“My sister pointed that out, too, as evidence against your theory. Rereading the story about him, I did describe him as being a perpetual grad student, so maybe that did it. Maybe that froze him in time...” Cat trailed off. After a minute she shook her head. “We’re being ridiculous. I think it’s far more likely my sister is right and we’ll discover a reasonable explanation for all of this.”
“Sure. If you say so.” Eliza’s face fell.
“You think that would be bad?”
“I don’t know. I’m still hoping you’ll write my
Mr. Right.”
“Tell you what—if this experiment with Grayson works, I’ll write you anything you want.”
Half an hour later, as Cat and Eliza were watching Vampire Diaries in an attempt to block out the craziness of the past week, Cat’s cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Cat, this is William.”
“Hi, William. How are you?” Nervousness coursed through her veins. She wanted to believe this was a nice, normal conversation between two wholly human, wholly not supernatural adults. But the way the hair on her arms was standing up, she knew at least part of her suspected otherwise.
“I’m very well, thank you for asking. How is your mother?”
“She’s doing much better. Her ankle is stable enough now that she can hobble around wearing a protective boot, which has made her much happier.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I hope she continues to feel better and recover quickly.”
“Thank you.”
“Listen, I’ll be back down in Charlottesville next week while we’re working on some investment plans for the UVa hospital. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I’m hoping you’re still interested in that second date.”
“Absolutely,” Cat answered. “I’d love that.” Even if she’d made him up, he was quite the catch, right? Given everything he’d done for her, she owed it to him to explore the possibilities further. As if that would be a hardship.
Eliza watched her, raising an eyebrow.
“Great,” William said. “I promise, no limos this time. Unless you want one.”
“No, no.” She laughed. “A regular old car will do just fine. In fact, how about I drive?”
“Sure,” William agreed. “That sounds like an adventure.”
“Ha, ha. How’s Saturday?” she suggested. “I can pick you up at 1:00.”
“An afternoon rendezvous. I’m intrigued.”
Had she imagined the innuendo in his voice? “Where will you be staying?”
“The Boar’s Head Inn. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Great, I’ll see you then.”
The Magic of Love Series Page 16
