He gave a short bark of bitter laughter. “Don’t you?”
Vicky shook her head. “No, I don’t! You have to understand…” She hesitated, weighing her words. “Cathy was under tremendous pressure. She had a sick, possibly a dying, child. She was broke. She couldn’t give up her job to be with Chloe full-time. On top of all of that, she had to be strong, strong all of the time.”
“For her daughter. Yeah, I get that,” he snapped. He plunged his chilled hands into his coat pockets. He was furious, both with Winter and with himself. He should have pressed her. He should have found out why she needed the money. He should have cared more. And damn it, she should have trusted him more!
“Not just for Chloe! For everyone!”
Michael was startled out of his raging reverie by the vehement tone. He watched as Vicky viciously threw the thermos into the car. It thumped and bounced on the floor.
“Everyone who felt sorry for her, including me, who couldn’t see her without oozing sympathy and pity. Everyone who avoided her because they didn’t know what to say. Everyone who tiptoed around her or stopped talking when she walked into the room or who left the room because they were afraid that somehow her bad luck would rub off on them, or—” Vicky abruptly stopped, pressing her lips tight into a thin line.
Michael had turned fully toward her during the spilling tirade. His frowning gaze never left her face, and he listened intently to everything she said, everything that she didn’t say.
Vicky shook her head, still visibly upset. A smile flickered briefly across her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
“It’s all right.”
“How did you and Cathy meet?”
Michael hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal anything that might hurt Winter. No, her name was Cathy, he corrected himself. The name felt strange to him, but that wasn’t important. He carefully chose to tell her friend only the bare minimum of the actual truth. “We exchanged e-mails a few times and then met over coffee.”
“Yes, I can see it happening that way.” Her expression was thoughtful. “And I can understand why she never told you about—about any of it. And why she wanted you to call her Winter. That’s her middle name, did you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” Michael felt his facial muscles tighten, the twitch of a tick in his jaw. “I didn’t know anything about her that really mattered.”
“Michael, don’t judge her, please. Try to understand. She was compartmentalizing, disconnecting, in order to cope.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He was suddenly furious again. “If I’d known, I could have offered her sympathy. I could have helped her more financially. I could have been there for her!”
“You still don’t get it! Cathy needed someone, badly. Someone she could be her normal self with. Someone who wouldn’t look at her with pity or treat her like she was some sort of pariah. You did that!” Vicky’s voice gentled. She touched his sleeve. “You may not believe it right now. But you did help her, in a way no one else could have done. She didn’t have to be strong around you. That took the pressure off her. She could be herself with you.”
Michael stared down at her, but he was no longer listening. Memories swirled through his head, mingling with things that Vicky had said. Be herself… be normal…He remembered her face lit up by laughter, her passion... He’d helped her…Cold reality dashed him then. He had used her as a casual convenience. Gorge rose in his throat. He thought he was going to be sick. He could still hear the drone of Vicky’s voice and, slowly, what she was saying came together in his head.
“…when she’d come in to work looking more rested. She’d smile to herself sometimes. I thought there might be someone. She messed up once and dropped your name. But she never said anything else, and I didn’t ask.”
His lacerated spirit was pathetically eager to embrace any crumb. “She smiled sometimes? Are you sure?”
Vicky’s brown eyes sparkled. “Yes, Michael. I can safely say that she smiled, a happy, satisfied smile, when she thought no one was looking.”
Michael nodded, absurdly pleased. “Thanks for that, Vicky.” He bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “It was good to meet you.”
Vicky laughed. “I’m glad to have met you, too, Michael.”
He didn’t know why, maybe just out of habit, but he handed his business card to her as he said good-bye. Vicky glanced at the card before sliding it into her coat pocket. They parted company, she to turn toward the hospital entrance as he walked away toward his own vehicle. His breath frosted white on the air. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard her call out his name. Michael stopped, looked back.
Vicky yelled, “Give her time, Michael. It will be okay. Just give her a little time.”
Michael nodded and forced a smile. There was a tightness in his chest. He lifted his hand that he had heard. Then he trudged away to his car.
* * * *
Afterward, Cathy never remembered leaving the hospital or driving across town. When she stopped the Lexus, she was staring through the windshield at the front of Michael’s house. Her mind was short-circuited. Then her thoughts settled. She drew a jagged breath, pulled her keys out of the ignition, and got out of the vehicle. She walked up to the front door and inserted her key.
Sometime later, she heard the front door open, then close. Cathy felt her whole body tense. Her heartbeat kicked up. She heard his steps on the granite tiles, coming closer. She turned to face the doorway.
* * * *
“Winter?” Michael stepped into the living area then hesitated. It was already dusk, and she had turned on only some of the lamps, leaving the corners of the room in deep shadow. “What are you doing here?”
“I have been waiting.”
There was tension in the low-voiced words. She stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her stance, and the expression on her face, was startlingly reminiscent of the first time he had brought her to his house. The night that he had made sure of the bargain between them. He felt nothing of the same emotions that had animated him then. Michael did not advance on her as he had that night. Instead, he carefully maintained his distance. He kept the timbre of his voice neutral. “I’m here now.”
“I wanted to explain. I shouldn’t have said that, in the parking lot, like that.” Her throat visibly worked as she swallowed. “You were a part of my life. An important part. When—when Chloe got GVHD—when I thought she really was going to die—I wanted to c–call you. I started to c–call—” She suddenly threw her hands up to cover her face and burst into tears. “Oh God! I was so scared, so scared!”
He took two long strides and wrapped his arms around her. With one hand he cradled her head against his shoulder. The other hand moved slowly, soothingly, up and down her spine. “Hey! Hey, everything’s all right.” He didn’t know what GVHD was. It didn’t matter. Her reaction was enough to tell him all he needed to know.
Michael picked her up and carried her over to the sofa, settling her in his lap. He murmured to her, holding her gently while she wept a storm of tears. Her whole body shook. Her hands tightly clutched his coat sleeves. He recognized on some instinctive level that she was releasing a pent-up maelstrom of grief and fear.
When she quieted at last, she just laid her head down against his shoulder. He remembered the napkin in his coat pocket, and he pulled it out for her. She murmured her thanks. She leaned back, wiping her nose, sniffing several times. She kept her gaze averted, not looking up. “I couldn’t call you. I couldn’t tell you.”
“I understand.” Michael did, too. He had made it all too plain from the beginning that he would not tolerate any kind of emotional drama between them. He had seen it as a weakness to the smooth conduction of their arrangement. He kept his voice under tight control even as his gut churned. “I was just the asshole in your secret life.”
“I’m sorry, Michael,” she whispered.
That was more than he could stand. He released her, sliding her onto
the sofa. He stood up, retreated a few paces before he turned to look back at her. “Where does that leave us, Winter?”
Slowly, she got up off the sofa. Her clear gaze never wavered, her eyes studying him as though she was trying to look into his soul. “Cathy. My name is Cathy.”
“Yes, I know that now. But I can’t easily make my mind adjust to everything I’ve found out about you lately.” He spoke more sharply than he intended. He took a deep, grounding breath. Michael thrust his hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s all right. It’s a lot to take in.” She worried at her bottom lip. “About my sister and brother-in-law…”
“Don’t worry.” He was quick to reassure her. He smiled his cold-bastard smile. “I won’t tell them anything about our relationship. Your friend Vicky was in the hospital parking lot, by the way. She overheard us talking.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. She stared at him, obviously trying to restructure the details of their conversation.
“All she heard was that I didn’t know anything about Chloe.” He was silent a moment, feeling again his strange hurt over that fact. “She asked how we met. I told her that we met through e-mail and then made a date for coffee.”
“Oh. Good. Thank you.”
“Your sister said that you and Chloe might return to Singapore with her.” He said it with an inflection of cool indifference, but he closely watched her for her reaction.
Cathy gave a tiny laugh. She gestured dismissively with one hand. “That’s Pam for you! She’s always making plans. We haven’t discussed anything like that. There hasn’t been time.”
“Winter—Catherine. I realize that things can’t remain the same between us. Later, after Chloe is better, I want to discuss our options.” Michael didn’t say so, but he wanted an opportunity to persuade her not to move herself and her daughter halfway around the world. It wasn’t the right moment to launch what was, in essence, a sales pitch, he thought.
“Discuss our options?” She repeated what he had said as though she was mouthing foreign words. Her eyes had narrowed. He felt like he was caught in a laser. He could see the train wreck coming, and he tried to stop it.
“We’re good together. You have to admit that.”
“You want to renegotiate?” There was a peculiar expression on her face.
He was relieved that she understood. He smiled, pleased. “Yes.”
She looked at him. Then she shook her head. She picked up her coat, where she had thrown it over one of the overstuffed chairs, and slid her arms into it. She picked up her purse. Finally, she looked at him again. There was an unfathomable expression in her hazel eyes. “I’ll see myself out, Michael.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Days later, Cathy was still brooding over the last conversation with Michael. She didn’t think about him all of the time, of course. She had Chloe to think about, and she spent much of her time visiting with her daughter. She had her work to catch up on. Yet always in the back of her mind, there was the reality that she had broken it off with Michael. She wasn’t certain how she felt about it. Whatever else, it didn’t seem finished.
“You’re so apathetic, Cathy.” Pam was hovering again. Her face was filled with concern. She gestured at the chicken salad on the plate that Cathy had barely touched. “You’re not taking care of yourself. You don’t remember to eat. You don’t sleep. Now you’re telling me that you’ve been sick. What are you going to do about it?”
Cathy shrugged. She pushed the chicken salad with her fork. “As long as Chloe continues to improve, it doesn’t matter.”
Pam tightened her lips and looked pointedly at her. “You and Michael…you’ve broken up, haven’t you? That’s part of it, isn’t it?”
Cathy’s gaze flew to her sister’s face. “How did you…?”
“Vicky told me. She heard you talking to Michael. He’s still calling, isn’t he?”
Cathy dropped her gaze. “Pam, let it go. I’m tired, that’s all. I just want to be left alone.”
“No, you’re going to the doctor. I’m worried. I’m making an appointment, and you’re going to go.”
Cathy sighed, but she didn’t protest anymore. She knew Pam wouldn’t let up. She would insist that Cathy listen until she finally agreed. Ever since she had gone to stay with her sister and brother-in-law, Pam had bullied and cajoled her about her health and well-being. Sometimes it was simpler just to give in.
Her sister wouldn’t let her take the Lexus but insisted on driving her to the appointment. “I want to make sure you actually go.”
Cathy looked at her, raising her brows. “I’m not a child.” But Pam just thinned her mouth again in that determined way that Cathy was beginning to recognize.
Braking in front of the medical center, Pam turned in her seat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”
Cathy pushed back a stray curl. She unbuckled the seat belt. “I don’t want you to be stuck here. I may have to wait forever. I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?”
Pam nodded, but reluctantly. After Cathy got out of the car, she leaned over to wave and then slowly drove away. Cathy didn’t wait to watch her sister’s rental leave the parking lot. She wanted to get in out of the cold, and she hurried through the doors of the medical center.
The afternoon was waning when Cathy called for her sister to pick her up. As soon as Pam drove up, Cathy emerged from the medical building and climbed into the vehicle’s welcome heat. She scarcely acknowledged her sister’s greeting. She was still reeling from the physician’s verdict.
“Well? What did the doctor say?”
Cathy hedged with the truth. “He said a lot about stress factors. He prescribed some vitamins and recommended some changes in my diet.”
Pam huffed. “I could have told you that much!”
“Pam, I want you to drop me off at the apartment.”
Pam’s head was turned away as she looked for a break in the traffic, but at Cathy’s bald statement, she slewed back around. She shot a startled, dismayed glance at her. “Cathy! What for?”
Cathy sighed. She sometimes felt that Pam and John would smother her with their overconcern. Strangely enough, she didn’t experience the old familiar sensations of a burgeoning panic attack. She hadn’t had one since her daughter had started recovering. She didn’t know what that meant, but she was grateful for it. Yet that didn’t negate her compelling need to be by herself, at least for the evening. There was just only so much bottled up emotion that she could stand. “Pam, just humor me, okay?”
Pam sucked in her breath, her face reddening. She snapped angrily, “What is going on in your head, Cathy! You know that John and I want you stay with us. That’s why we’re here, to take care of you and Chloe!”
Cathy curled her fingers into her palms. “I just want to be alone for tonight. You can pick me up in the morning. Okay? Please, Pammy.”
Pam glanced at her, her lips pressed together. She nodded reluctantly. “All right. But John is going to kill me, and I won’t blame him! I don’t understand. Just tell me why, Cathy!”
There was a tense silence. Cathy turned to the window. “It’s just all finally gotten to me. At the apartment, I can bawl my head off and not worry about waking you and John.”
Pam shot a startled look at her sister. Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to make a joke of it. “Okay. It must be shit to be a superhero, Wonder Woman.”
Cathy choked on a hoarse laugh. “You have no idea.” She was grateful that Pam wasn’t going to hassle her anymore. She was grateful, period. She didn’t really know what she would have done without her sister’s unfailing support, especially during the early days of Chloe’s long recovery.
On the way to the apartment, each was caught up in her own somber thoughts. Pam insisted on coming into the apartment with Cathy to make sure the heat was turned up and that there was still food in the refrigerator-freezer and pantry. “Not that I can trust you to
cook for yourself,” she grumbled.
Cathy shrugged. “I haven’t been all that hungry lately anyway.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized her mistake.
“You have to eat better,” said Pam softly. “Cathy, you’ve lost too much weight since you broke up with Michael.”
It was a refrain that Pam had been repeating all too often. Cathy groaned. “Pam, don’t!”
Her sister’s chin squared stubbornly. “Cathy, you owe it to yourself and to Chloe! You’ve got to take better care of yourself. And you’ve got to get over this thing with Michael!”
Cathy smiled with affection at her sister. “That’s why I wanted to come here tonight. I want some time alone to get my head together.”
“Oh.” Pam bit her lip. She grimaced. “I’ve been too much of a mother-hen, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but I love you for it.”
Pam pulled her knit scarf closer around her neck. Her gaze roved over the meager furnishings. “The lease is up soon on this place, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.” Pam’s voice was clipped. “I’ll be glad when you’re out of this dump!”
“Not now, Pam. Please.”
“I know. I’m being a bitch.” Pam hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “I just hurt for you so much.”
After Pam left, Cathy locked the door. She walked back to Chloe’s bedroom and stood in the open doorway. The room was as Chloe had left it the last time she had been there. Her gaze roamed over the ruffled curtains, the pink-and-white dresser, the spangled canopied four-poster. It all looked oddly peaceful and welcoming.
Cathy crossed the room to lie down on the bed. Her daughter was getting stronger by the day. It was a blessing so dazzling that she could still scarcely comprehend it. However, her affair with Michael was as good as ended, and her emotions had been on a see-saw ever since.
Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 22
