Recovery Road

by Danielle Donaldson

  She stood there for minutes until a loud knock at the door jarred her from her stupor.

  “Catalina! Are you up? We want to talk to you,” Bonnie half-sang, half-yelled from the other side of the door.

  “Come on, dude. The day’s not getting any younger out here.” Gillian’s voice was harsh, like a bark. She banged on the door again, louder. Catalina walked to the door, her feet numb. Maybe she’d been standing in the kitchen longer than she thought.

  Wordlessly, Catalina opened the door and motioned limply for them to come in.

  “Finally! Thank God, these bags are heavy.” Gillian rushed by and into the kitchen. The cold air from outside whooshed through the open door, creeping into her bones immediately. Snowflakes drifted into Catalina’s hair. She squinted out the door. Wasn’t it fall a few days ago?

  Bonnie’s arms were full with Asa, her infant son, a chubby six-month-old with a shock of red hair. He waved at Catalina, who tried to smile back at him.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you guys were coming. And you brought the baby? He’s getting so big,” Catalina said as she hugged Bonnie gently.

  “Yes, well, I thought I’d bring him since you haven’t seen much of him.” Bonnie’s long, auburn hair was pulled back into a beautiful French twist, and she took off Asa’s little coat when they stepped inside. “I’m so happy that you’re out of bed. Did we wake you?” Bonnie bit her bottom lip as Asa went to grab her necklace. Bonnie gently pulled it from his grasp, almost as second nature.

  The house was a mess. There was a small pile of blankets and pillows on the sunken couch cushions. It smelled stale, like sweat. Catalina pulled at the ponytail wrapped around her neck. It dangled there to cover her scars from the explosion.

  “No. I’ve been awake. What are you guys doing here? Did we plan something? Did I forget?” Catalina asked as she walked into the kitchen to watch Gillian unpacking packages from a large, brown paper bag.

  “No. We decided to come over and bum rush you unexpectedly. But we brought treats.” Gillian lifted a plain white box to show Catalina.

  “Are those cinnamon buns?” Catalina eyed the Bower’s Bakery label on the side of the bag.

  “See, I told you they were her favorite.” Bonnie plopped down in a kitchen chair and settled Asa into her lap. Catalina made grabbing motions at the box in Gillian’s hands.

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll make some coffee.” Gillian slid the box across the kitchen island. The smell of the frosting almost made Catalina drool on herself. She tore open the box and chomped into one of the rolls. They melted in her mouth. She groaned.

  “Jeez, girl. Calm down. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” Gillian raised her eyebrows.

  “Yeah. I think it’s been a couple of days.” Catalina pushed her long, dark hair behind her ears and took another big bite of the bread.

  “That’s why we’re here to talk to you, lady.” Gillian swiveled around to look at Catalina head-on. She tilted her head toward Bonnie. “Bonnie’s been worried about you. I mean, we all are. You kinda look like crap.”

  “Sweetie, what Gil is trying to say, is that we haven’t seen a lot of you lately and you do look like you need some TLC.”

  “TLC, Bon? She hasn’t showered or eaten in days,” Gillian said.

  “Hey, I’m right here.” Catalina rolled her eyes.

  “I know. I can smell you from across the room,” Gillian said as she grimaced.

  “I don’t smell,” Catalina spat out, then she tried to sniff under her armpits subtly. “Okay. I do need to shower, but I’m okay, guys.”

  Bonnie and Gillian exchanged long looks, obviously trying to say something without words.

  “Look, I’m going to come out and say it since nobody else has the balls to do it,” Gillian said loudly, cracking her knuckles.

  “Hey, language!” Bonnie said, covering Asa’s ears, who was more interested in sucking on his fingers than their conversation.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gillian said. “Cat, you’re a mess. We’re worried, You gotta do something differently. We can’t let Olivia keep living like this.”

  “So, you’re threatening to take my kid away from me?”

  “It’s not like that, Cat.” Bonnie shook her head. “We’re just worried about Olivia and you. We know you love Olivia and want what’s best for her too.”

  Catalina cocked an eyebrow. “It’s pretty screwed up that you don’t think that what’s best for my kid is to be here with me.”

  Gillian bit at her fingernails. “She should be here with you, but you need to do stuff a little differently around here for both your sakes’.”

  “Did Marie set you up to this?” Catalina accused.

  “She is worried about you, but it’s the general consensus that you need some help.”

  “Wait, what is this? An intervention?” Catalina asked, pointing at Gillian.

  “Kinda,” Bonnie said softly.

  “I don’t need an intervention, guys. I’m okay. I’m still here.” Catalina rubbed her eyes roughly. I should have freaking stayed in bed.

  “Olivia misses you,” Gillian said. “You know that Marie loves taking care of her, but you’re her mom. She wants you around.”

  “I’ve been around. I’ve been here.” Catalina gestured toward the hallway.

  “You know what we mean, Cat.” Gillian turned the coffee pot on. “Christmas came and went. You didn’t even put up a tree. Poor Olivia was so confused. We know you mean well, but it’s time that you have a little help getting back on your feet.”

  “Oh God,” Catalina groaned and put her head in her hands. She didn’t want to see the looks Bonnie and Gillian were giving each other now. “I told you that I can take care of myself. I’m doing okay.” Catalina blew a few stray, wispy hairs from her face.

  “Yeah. Yeah. We heard you.” Gillian took a deep breath and turned to Catalina. “But I have to be honest, Cat. You don’t seem to be doing okay.” Gillian’s strong, thin arms seemed to vibrate beside her. Her black pixie cut was tucked neatly behind her ears. She looked around the room, her sharp eyes taking everything in.

  “Don’t look at me like that, kitty cat. When was the last time you cleaned up? Ate a hot meal? When was the last time you went for a walk?” Gillian’s voice dropped off quietly as she asked the last question.

  “So...,” Bonnie started. “We’ve set up some stuff to help you get out more, eat more, and other things.”

  “I’m already in therapy, so I don’t need any of that. Thanks.” Catalina’s voice was biting, and she didn’t look up from her hands.

  “You have to go to therapy to be able to say that you are in therapy.” Gillian was banging around in the cupboards, looking for mugs.

  “We are thinking more about having people come over so you’re not alone during the day, help you get out more, help around the house. We can all do shifts so you’ll almost always have someone here.”

  “Ugh.” Why can’t they just leave me alone to be sad. I should be allowed to be sad.

  Catalina looked around the living room. There were balled up tissues on the floor in front of the couch, a haphazard pile of empty water bottles on the coffee table, dirty paper plates stacked up on the kitchen counters. She could see flies buzzing around the dirty dishes in the sink. She knew the cabinets were mostly empty and the fridge only housed a couple bottles of fruit shakes.

  “Yeah, so Bonnie and I are obviously here. Marie and Gene will help as much as they can, especially with Olivia.” Gillian poured a cup of coffee and stirred in some non-dairy creamer she found in the pantry.

  “Gene’s working a lot, but I think we have someone else who can hang out with you during the day too,” Bonnie said, referring to her husband as she kissed the top of Asa’s head.

  “Who?” Catalina asked, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t need babysitters to make sure she washed her hair and ate food. She was doing okay. She was getting by.

  “Evan Bowers has volunteered.”

  Oh hell no.
The last person’s help she needed was his.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Evan pulled up to Catalina’s house right as the sun started to peek over the tops of the trees. The front walk was slick with ice, but the snow was mostly pushed to the sides of the walkway. The house was quiet and still.

  Hudson had been his best friend since they were children but in an instant, his best friend was gone and left behind his family; his wife and a little girl. That thought alone made Evan’s head hurt. Catalina’s sad eyes at the funeral, clutching at the umbrella in her hand and staring at the casket where Hudson’s body was. Hudson was the only person in the world that Evan knew was doing okay at the “having a family” thing. Not only did Evan lose his best friend, he also lost the last person he could look to to model normalcy.

  He raised his hand to knock on the door, but Gillian opened it quickly and yanked him over the threshold.

  “Were you going to stand out there like a weirdo?”

  “What? I was going to knock. You didn’t give me a chance.” He rubbed a hand through his hair as he looked around. He hadn’t been in the house much, even though Hudson and Catalina bought it a few years earlier. Being in their space always made him feel uncomfortable. The framed picture of Catalina, Hudson, and Olivia was still on the wall. They were a cute family. He rubbed his hands together to warm them.

  “She’s still sleeping, and I wanted to be sure that you weren’t going to bail.” Gillian took a big swig out of the coffee mug in her hand and grabbed another full mug from the kitchen. “She might be a little hung over, but she needs to get up and be in the real world.”

  Evan nodded slowly. “Rough night, Gillian?”

  Gillian wiggled her eyebrows. “She needed to loosen up.”

  “You always knew how to get her to do that.” Evan sat on the edge of the couch. “Can I have some of that coffee?”

  “Yeah.” Gillian plopped down next to him and handed him the extra mug. “Black okay? I hope so. She doesn’t have any cream.”

  “Yes, it’s fine.”

  He looked around the small house. A clock ticked somewhere.

  “Okay,” Gillian said. “This is sufficiently awkward. I don’t want this to be awkward, Evan.”

  He sighed and sipped at his drink. It was bitter and hot, but it helped wake him up.

  “You wanted me here, Gillian. You, Bonnie, and Gene practically twisted my arm into this arrangement. I’m trying my best.”

  “Pretty boy, we love you. I know it hasn’t been easy, You aren’t doing well. Cat is almost a hermit. You can lean on each other.” Gillian had no idea. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t the one sitting at home, sleepless, feeling the empty hole where his best friend was, worrying whether Catalina had enough money to pay her bills and how their little girl was doing.

  “Where’s Olivia?”

  “At Marie’s, Cat’s sister. She should be dropped off in a couple hours. You can text me if you have any questions. They just need some company. Cat needs back up to make sure she stays out of bed and hopefully washes her hair. I helped her clean up yesterday so I hope it helps keep this place livable.”

  Evan nodded. “I’m going to get some supplies for breakfast. I should make pancakes or something.”

  “There’s some good thinking, baker boy. Away with thee!” Gillian giggled quietly.

  *

  Olivia talked a lot more than Evan expected, but he always remembered her as a baby on Catalina’s hip.

  “So, Evan, you were my daddy’s friend?”

  Evan nodded as he stirred the pancake batter.

  “And Daddy is in heaven?” He nodded again.

  “But you are here?”

  “Yes, and I’m making pancakes.”

  “I love pancakes.” Olivia had a wide, toothy grin but kept sticking her tongue behind her loose front tooth.

  Evan smiled back at her. He was the oldest of three boys. Little girls were a mystery to him, but most kids loved pancakes.

  “Do you like blueberries?”

  “Yum!” Olivia looked at him like he was magical.

  Evan laughed. “I’m glad you like them since we’re having blueberry pancakes.”

  Marie had dropped off Olivia and arched an eyebrow at him but gave him very little directions regarding Olivia. He supposed that at a certain age kids kind of knew what they needed. He would supply the food and Olivia would do the rest.

  He heard the bedroom door shut down the hall and feet shuffling along the carpet in the hallway. He didn’t turn to look at her just yet. He would need to take another moment to face her.

  “Momma!” Olivia yelled from her seat at the kitchen table. She kicked out the chair from beneath her and ran to Catalina. They murmured some greetings to each other.

  Be cool, man. You got this.

  He placed five silver dollar-sized pancakes on a plate for Olivia and turned around. Catalina’s hair was tied in a braid over her shoulder and her arms looked skinnier than he was used to, but she still managed to take his breath away. She stilled when he walked from the kitchen with a plate in his hand and a hand towel draped over his right shoulder.

  “Who wants pancakes?” he said cheerfully before meeting Catalina’s eyes. He turned quickly to put the plate on the table in the eat-in kitchen.

  Catalina cleared her throat and patted Olivia on the shoulder. “What are you doing home so late? You know you can’t miss school.”

  “Momma, don’t be silly. It’s Saturday. There’s no school today. Auntie said I should be home and we can play today. Evan’s making breakfast and then he’s going to teach me how to make carrot cake. Won’t that be fun, Momma?” Olivia chattered away as she moved to the kitchen table.

  He and Catalina again made eye contact briefly before she looked away and blew her hair out of her face. He cleared his throat and turned toward the stove. There were drops of pancake batter on the counter and stove top; they needed instant attention, he reasoned. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept watching them.

  Catalina helped Olivia cut her pancakes into little triangles and poured the syrup in big round strokes.

  She was wearing a thin, olive-green top and black yoga pants. The color of her top made her skin look tan and smooth despite the fact she’d been inside for most of the last three months. Winter wasn’t a great time for a tan anyway.

  He was wearing a white cotton button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans. He wasn’t wearing shoes, just black socks. His hair was carefully smoothed back but it annoyingly started to curl around his ears.

  He had tried to look causal but clean. Gillian hadn’t been quiet about how he had let himself go since Hudson’s death.

  “Momma, aren’t you going to eat breakfast? Looky, Evan even brought us flowers.” Catalina’s eyes looked wet and Evan held his breath for a moment. He didn’t know what he would do if she burst into tears. He thought the flowers were a nice touch. He was trying to be nice.

  Evan piped up, hoping to stop any emotional reaction. “Pretty flowers for a pair of pretty ladies.” He smiled down at Olivia and gestured Catalina to a chair. “You feel like joining us?”

  She scowled.

  “I didn’t mean to take over your kitchen, but I’m a baker. I don’t know what else to do other than make breakfast.” He tried to smile at her. It was forced, and she probably knew it. Why can’t I be less awkward?

  She bit her bottom lip. Her face turned red.

  Olivia’s big eyes stared at her mother as she played with the edge of the placemat. Even the kid knew that something was weird.

  The girl was patient and polite, nothing like what Evan remembered five-year-olds being like. Hudson had had a hot temper, and Olivia seemed to be so much more relaxed than either of her parents. Good parenting, Evan was sure. Catalina slumped over to the table and took a seat next to Olivia while avoiding his eyes. She focused on Olivia’s face, brushing the hair out of her daughter’s eyes. Evan had to look away. It was peeking in on a privat
e moment.

  The table was set with bacon, toast, scrambled eggs, and a stack of perfectly cooked pancakes.

  “This is a lot of food for only us,” Catalina said, sourness lingering in her voice.

  “Evan said that you’d probably be hungry. Auntie Gil left and she looked sick. She didn’t want any,” Olivia said.

  “Yeah, Gil probably needed rest.”

  “Did you guys have a sleepover?” Olivia asked, tilting her head to the side.

  “Not the same kind of sleepover you’re thinking of,” Catalina said. “Thank you for the food, Evan. It’s delicious,” she added quietly.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, not meeting her eyes. She was too much to look at straight on. His stomach grumbled with his anxiety. Even sitting at the same table, her kitchen table, was making the sweat prick on the back of his neck.

  The adults ate breakfast without speaking to each other, the only noise the clinking of their silverware on the plates and Olivia babbling about school and television shows and her new favorite movie. She spoke so quickly that her words slurred together and he had a hard time figuring out what she was saying. Catalina seemed to understand because she nodded and gave short responses. When Olivia drifted away from the table to get her dolls out of her room, Catalina turned to Evan.

  “I don’t need you to babysit me,” she murmured.

  “I’m not here to babysit you, Catalina. I’m here to help,” he said, brushing crumbs from the tablecloth. Stay cool.

  He didn’t want to be here, either. His friends dragged him here and used Olivia and Hudson as guilt trips in the process. He wanted to throw himself into his work. He’d be alright.

  “I don’t need help.” She scowled at him.

  He fought the urge to scowl back. Even with her mouth twisted up, she was a sight. the same face in his dreams at night. He shook the thought from his mind. She was Hudson’s girl, always had been, always would be. He had to stop thinking about her like that. He sighed deeply, the movement rattling in his chest and stretching out his shoulders.