Cat's Patient Heart
Page 9
If things went well, maybe he’d invite her to go up to Kansas City, Kansas for it.
He swiveled back to look at her and nodded, “Yeah, I throw one hell of a party. We offer a special dinner, choice of steak, shrimp, or Chicken Kiev with baked potato, salad, and chocolate mousse. I’ve got a local band booked for live dancing and we usually offer some bar specials too, cheap prices on drinks or BOGO or something. The girls decorate up the place with a lot of cheesy cardboard hearts and red streamers. One year we handed out a rose for every lady who came through the door until we ran out.”
Catherine kept her voice level as she said, “Sounds nice, Connor.”
I would love it, every hokey thing about it from the roses to the mousse.
“It turns out awesome,” he said. Talking about For My Sins made him happy, she noticed but it had the opposite effect for her. “Speaking of the club, I’d better call to let my people know I’m out of the hospital and make sure they’re getting things ready for Valentine’s Day. Can I use your phone again, Cat?”
“Sure,” she said and handed it to him. Connor used the red Blackberry with skill and within moments made the connection to his club. This time, he didn’t use the speaker function so Catherine sat and listened to his half of the conversation, unhappy but too curious to leave.
“Hey, Lisa, it’s me, Connor,” he began and then paused to listen. “No, I’m great, out of the hospital and everything. What? Can you turn that damn jukebox down so I can hear you? I’ll wait.”
He drummed his fingers against the armrest of the recliner until Lisa came back to the phone. “Yeah, that’s better. Did you get a pest control guy in? Well, when he’s coming? It needs to be sooner than that, Lisa. Okay, okay. I hope you made the bank deposits because I’ve got access to a computer now and I’m going to check, you hear? Good, good. Now, are there any new problems?”
Connor cocked his head and tucked the small cell into his shoulder as he listened for several minutes. Catherine, no matter how hard she strained, could hear Lisa’s voice but not the words. For all she knew, the woman could be proclaiming her love for Connor. The sole thing keeping her sanity was Connor’s exasperated expression. After several minutes he shook his head.
“Take care of it, you, Larry, or Lupe. Get it done. And start getting ready for the big Valentine’s Day party - it’s just over two weeks away. Yeah, that means get some decorations, order the flowers and tell the restaurant supply guy what I’ll need extra. I’ll start doing some of it from here, maybe tomorrow. What? Oh, I don’t know – wait a second.”
Connor removed the phone from his ear to ask, “Hey, Cat can I give Lisa your number so they can call me from the club if they need anything?”
Catherine hesitated. She kept her number close and seldom gave it out beyond a narrow circle of close friends and family but despite her reluctance, she nodded, “Sure, go ahead.”
“Thanks honey,” Connor said and Catherine hoped Lisa heard him loud and clear. Then he rattled off her number before he said, “Look, I need to hang up now. I’m tired and I’m still recovering so don’t call unless it’s important, understand? I’ll call back probably Monday to see how things are. Sure, Lisa. No problem. I’ll talk to you then.”
He handed her back the phone. Catherine stuck it in her pocket, resolving that once Lisa called she’d assign a ring tone so she’d know damn well when the woman called. She wasn’t about to get blindsided by some cheap bitch, especially not one that turned her into a green eyed monster. Catherine figured Connor hadn’t been celibate over the last decade or lived without women. If she knew him the way she thought, he’d had his lady friends just liked she’d dated and she couldn’t keep from wondering if Lisa might be among them. She disliked her already because she loathed the familiar way she’d talked to Connor at the hospital. Frustrated and envious, Catherine rose from the couch to stalk into the kitchen. If the pizza arrived soon, they’d need plates so she slammed some on the counter.
“Hey Cat?” Connor called.
She came back with two plates, a server and the Parmesan cheese shaker. “What is it?”
“Lisa’s not my girlfriend, never has been,” he said, reading her like a road map. “You don’t need to get pissed off.”
Catherine denied it. “I’m not. I don’t care who your girlfriend is these days.”
His lips smirked around a smile as he said, “Don’t you?”
“No.”
Connor laughed, “Honey even if you did it wouldn’t matter.”
He offered bait and like a fool, she took it but damn, she needed to know. “Why not?”
“Because there isn’t one and hasn’t been since you, Miss Kitty.”
That version of his nickname for her stunned her for a moment. He’d used it seldom, kept it for the most private, special moments. Catherine wavered and then decided he lied.
“I don’t believe that, Connor Donavan. You must have a woman or two sometime in the last ten years.”
His small smile morphed into a grin. “I never said I didn’t have a woman once in awhile. I have, but none of them meant anything to me. What’s that old saying? They were just ships that passed in the night.”
First he touched her, then he hurt her so she snapped, “I call those one night stands, Connor.”
Fire born of anger, not passion kindled in his eyes. “Most people do, Catherine. That was my effort to be nice.”
Her own temper flared as she came right back at him, “I thought you were nice, Connor, but maybe I was wrong.”
Any effort he’d made to control his fury vanished and he raised his voice to her, saying, “I’m a mean bastard, Cat. You know that, more than anyone else. I’m my mother’s son, as cold and uncaring as she was. You believe it, everyone always did. I bet when I hauled ass on you, you knew it and if not, I bet no one wasted any time to say it aloud.”
Each word lashed her like a whip, slashed her like a sharp knife and she cried out with wordless anguish. Deep within her belly a sob uncurled into a great beast and spread through her body. Tears erupted from her eyes and she bawled worse than a baby with colic. Catherine almost ran out of the room but she caught herself. Then she saw Connor’s face, naked and ravaged with pain equal to her own. She struggled to stop crying and when she could speak, she faced him.
“When you left me, I thought I’d die but not because I thought you were mean but because I wondered what I could’ve done to you,” Catherine said, the words choking her as they came from her mouth. “I worried about you, Connor and wondered where you’d gone, what you were doing. You’re nothing like your mother and you never were. You are nice, somewhere deep under your bad boy act and I love you, you stinking, stupid idiot.”
Connor stared at her, eyes brilliant with tears. He pushed himself up out of the chair and turned to her. Before he could say a thing, the doorbell pealed and he glanced out.
“The pizza’s here,” he said, in a mild tone. “I’ll get it. I’ve got my billfold. Go wash your face if you want and then we’ll talk. I need to tell you something.”
She might have argued at any other time but Catherine nodded, mute and did what he suggested. By the time she returned calm and face cooled with water, he had two slices of pizza on each plate waiting.
Connor met her eyes and the honest naked pain in them rocked her to her core.
Whatever he had to say, she knew it must be heavy but she never doubted it would be true. Catherine sank down onto the couch and faced him, waiting for words that might either heal or destroy.
Chapter Nine
She’d rented this small house for more than five years and Catherine transformed it from just another old, tired frame structure into a home. Her furnishings remained minimal because she liked it that way but she’d worked to make it into a haven, her retreat from the world. Catherine never expected to sit across from Connor Donovan or have his rump sprawled in her favorite chair in this place. She’d invited a few dates inside, cooked a meal for two or three of
them but none ever set foot into her bedroom. Nor did any of them ever spend the night. Inviting Connor here seemed like the natural thing to do and she wouldn’t revoke the invitation. Catherine wanted him here and the more time she spent with him she realized that she wanted him in her life on a permanent basis.
As much as she loved him and gloried in his presence, Catherine’s emotions were as unpredictable as tornado alley weather in a turbulent spring. She alternated between moments of sweet affection to angst that he’d never stay. His presence in her home altered everything and yet felt just right. While she savored his presence and enjoyed his apparent need for her, Connor scared her because Catherine knew just how deep he could damage her if he left.
But she knew him more than any other living person ever had or probably would. When he admitted his emotional baggage, her heart ached for his sake. He’d never been anything like his worthless mother, had risen like cream to the top of sour milk in life. His earlier statements, tossed out in anger told her that he still lacked complete self esteem. Catherine restrained from running across the room to hug him, to tell him just how much she cared and what he’d always been to her. His gesture toward reconciliation, the pizza put out on paper plates on the coffee table moved her and so she sat, ready to listen.
“Do you want to eat first or listen?” Connor asked in a muted tone.
“We can eat while the pizza’s hot if you’re still hungry,” she said, “I’m sorry I acted out, Connor. All this is just a lot to deal with.”
“It is for both of us,” he replied, “and I do love you, Cat.”
She met his look and nodded, “I believe you, Connor. Do you still want to eat?”
He shook his head. “If you don’t care, let’s wait. I’d like to get this over with.”
Catherine agreed with that. “Let me put the pizza in the fridge and we can warm it up in the microwave in a little bit.”
After their upset they acted too polite and she didn’t like that either. She took care of putting away the food and returned to the living room where Connor remained in the recliner. Just as Catherine wished she could nestle in his arms, he opened them wide.
“Come here, Kitty Cat, come sit on my lap.”
She ached to do just that but she hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Connor pleaded, “I’d really like to hold you. I want you close while I tell you what I need to say.”
Catherine couldn’t resist so she nodded, crossing the room to climb into his lap with care, cautious around the healing gash. Connor balanced her and she rested against his left arm, her head tucked against his chest. She could and did look up into his face and after he sighed, he jumped into his confession.
“I should have said this a long time ago, I guess,” Connor began. “I’m sure you remember how I came to you and told you I was leaving after graduation.”
Catherine nodded, “Yeah, I do.”
“That was the hardest damn thing I ever did,” he said, exhaling a long sigh that wafted into her face. “I could see how much I hurt you and I wanted to take it all back, pull you into my arms and love you.”
Her eyes locked on his as she asked, “Then why didn’t you?”
“If I had, I’d have gone to jail and not seen daylight for years.” Connor dropped that bombshell with such quiet composure that she wanted to shake him. What he said didn’t make sense at all.
“What’re you talking about?” Catherine demanded.
Connor stroked the curve of her face and cupped her cheek with his hand. “Baby, you’re not going to like this but promise me you won’t make a big deal out of it.”
Dismay prickled down her back. “You’re starting to scare me, Connor.”
“I don’t mean to but just listen, okay?”
“All right, I will.”
“The night before I came over and told you I’d leave and we were over after I took you home from the movies your uncle pulled me over.”
She should have guessed long before now. “Uncle Douglas?”
“Yeah, your loving Uncle Douglas,” Connor said with a sneer.
Catherine hadn’t thought about her mother’s brother in years but his name evoked memories of the khaki clad, militaristic police officer who loomed over her childhood like a prison warden. Uncle Douglas stood six feet, six inches tall and weighed more than two hundred pounds, most of it rock solid muscle. He favored mirrored sunglasses, wore a nightstick on his Sam Browne belt, and a .38 Special standard police issue revolver in a holster on his hip. He stuck his nose into three generations of family business and butted in where he usually wasn’t wanted. Every holiday he came over to Catherine’s home where he did his best to discipline every kid under twenty-five and laid down rules that no one’s parents set. As a little kid, she’d been scared of the man and his overbearing attitude. By the time she’d become a teenager, Catherine ignored Uncle Douglas when she could and kept out of his way. Once she grew up, she seldom saw him, just the way she liked it.
“What did he do, Connor?” she asked, slipping her left arm up around his neck. “Tell me what that son of a bitch did.”
Face sober and serious, Connor did. “He pulled me over and made me get out of the Trans Am. He searched the car, talking about what he’d do if he found beer or pot but I was clean. Then he punched me hard enough in the gut to make me double over and told me to keep away from you. I told him that I loved you and it would never happen. He hit me again and when I got done puking, he laid down the law about you.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, weeping softly. “I should have known something like that happened but I didn’t. I never thought about it or guessed.”
Connor brushed her lips with his mouth, a swift but sweet kiss before he continued the story, “Douglas said that he’d see me in jail within the week for statutory rape and that was just the beginning. He told me I was nothing but trash, you were a good girl and you’d make something out of yourself. Then he promised he’d plant drugs or stolen goods in my car or at the house if I didn’t leave town. He wanted me to go that night, without a word to you or anyone, to skip graduation but I told him fuck off. I stayed in school for twelve full years and I wasn’t going to let him cheat me of that.”
Her stomach rolled over with queasy waves and Catherine was glad they hadn’t eaten. If she did, she’d be sick now. Everything Connor told her resonated with truth and she didn’t doubt a word he spoke. Although he spoke with cool poise, she tasted bitterness and knew if she never saw her uncle again, it would be too soon.
“I hope he burns in hell,” Catherine said between clenched teeth, “He always was a bastard.”
Connor hooted a brief burst of laughter, dryer than a drought and said, “Yeah, he is. So I made my deal with him and he didn’t arrest me or plant false evidence to frame me. I left town and I haven’t been back. I doubt I ever will.”
“I hate him,” she whispered, “sorry, sadistic turd.”
“Don’t waste your breath on him, Kitty Cat,” Connor said, “He’s not worth the effort. Just don’t tell him I’m staying here with you. I doubt he’d like it.”
Catherine shuddered in his arms, still crying a little, and said, “I haven’t seen him or talked to him in years. What I do isn’t any of his business. Besides, if what my mom told me is true, he’s half crippled from crashing his police cruiser a year or two ago. Connor, I’m so sorry for what he did to you, to us.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Cat, not ever,” Connor said as a small smile emerged to flirt with his mouth. “I wanted to tell you for a long time but I didn’t know where you were or if you were married or something. I feel better, having it out in the open. Now you know why I left and why I hurt you. Sometimes I’ve thought I’d been better off to defy him and stay. Do you resent me for not telling you the truth?”
“Oh, God, no, Connor,” she cried, “I don’t blame you either.”
His arms clutched her tighter as he held Catherine against him. They clung toge
ther in silence but also in harmony. Catherine could feel his heartbeat against her body, steady but a little rapid. As they cuddled, it slowed and her breathing shifted into an easy rhythm that matched his. For the first time since their unexpected reunion she allowed the walls she’d built over the past decade to crumble and she trusted Connor more than she’d trusted anyone since she was sweet sixteen. Catherine didn’t give him a full pass but she opened the long closed door. His open honesty made anything possible between them, anything at all.
For now, that was enough.
Chapter Ten
They could have remained entwined together forever and she wouldn’t complain but after a little time, Catherine stirred. Although he’d said nothing, she thought her weight must be a burden and so she asked, “Do you want me to move? I bet I’m crushing your legs.”
Connor smiled but she saw the fatigue that shadowed his eyes as he said, “I haven’t been able to feel them for twenty minutes but it’s okay. I like you there just fine so stay.”
She heard his stomach rumble, even felt the vibration. “You’re hungry.”
“I can wait a few more minutes,” he told her. “I waited a lot longer to have you in my arms.”
Catherine hushed. She’d waited too and so she savored the moment. Connor’s fingers stroked her hair with tenderness and evoked the past. It was an old, familiar gesture and she’d liked it as much then. She reached up to touch his face, to run her hand along the curve of his face, to brush her fingers through his hair. Each small touch induced sweet physical bliss, little runners of anticipation that shivered through her nervous system like electrical pulse. Each caress expressed love but it also foretold what would happen between them soon. Catherine could no more doubt that they would make love than she did that the sun would sink into the western horizon come evening or rise again in the east.