Great, make me feel guilty. “Hi. Sorry, I know it’s late for you. If you want to go to bed, I don’t mind.”
I’ve tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible but I’m going to call it, mother’s instinct, when something just clicks inside you and you know that your child isn’t right.
“You must think I’m stupid,” she laughs, sarcastically. “If you really think I’m going to leave you with a face like a wet mop, you’ve got another thing coming. Spill. Man trouble? Health issue? Both?”
“No. But seriously, it’s not important,” I lie. “I don’t want to keep you up, I’ll call you over the weekend.”
She sits up straighter and casts me daggers from her eyes. “Catalina James,” oh shit. “You’re spilling the beans, now.”
Taking a shaky breath I start, “It’s Kody. I just feel lost over him at the moment. I know we have this talk all the time but something happened and I just wish I was there so I could be near him.”
She sighs and her shoulders slump. “I know. I knew this wouldn’t be easy for you being over there and being miles away, but you know and I know you had to do this. Do you think Kody’s happy knowing that you’re questioning your life over him or knowing that he’s the reason you put your life on hold?” she asks. “He knows you love him and just because you’re not here to be near him like you used to be, you still think of him. We take flowers every week like you asked and yes, I’ve sent you your bill.” She smirks. “You don’t have to be in England to be near him. He’s always going to be in your heart. Always.”
Damn moms. They know how to make the waterworks start. “I know,” I sniffle. “It was just easier to know that I could walk there when I needed him. Over here all I have is what’s in my head, and sometimes that’s not a safe place to be.”
“I’m aware, you have my genes. It’s bound to be scary in there.” She laughs trying to lighten my mood. “Sweetie, can you please try and do this for yourself for a while longer. I’m not trying to keep you away from here, but I’d rather you give it a good shot at being over there. If you don’t like it in six months, then fine, come home. You know the door is always open. I just want to see you be yourself again. You’ve been a shadow for years and it scares me. I’m sure Kody would be happier if he knew his Mommy was happy.”
“His Mommy would be happier if he was with her. His Mommy would be happier if she got to see his face and see him grow up, watch him take his first steps and say his first word,” I bite out, not at my Mom, but at my life.
A tear rolls down her cheek but she quickly wipes it away to hide her own hurt. “Cat, some people are too precious for this world and God wants them back sooner than we’d like. I know that we think of it as, ‘we only got a few weeks with him,’ but you have to at least be thankful we got to see him at all.”
“Trust me, I am.” I mutter. “But it isn’t sticking in my head.”
“I don’t suppose it is.”
Going to work when you’ve had no sleep is like gouging your eyes out. Not fun in the slightest.
After talking with my Mom last night I crawled into bed, grabbed the scrapbook that Kyle had gotten out and stared at every picture in detail. Counting his fingers, counting his toes, staring at the veins on his eyelids and memorizing them as if the pictures would disintegrate the moment I stopped looking. It only felt like yesterday that I was holding him, cherishing the one thing I had left of Kyle and yet it’s been seven painful years. I tried to picture what he’d look like now, but that caused more pain than anything. It hurts to know that I’ll never actually find out.
“Earth to Cat? Are you with us today?”
Unfortunately “Today? I thought I’d been gone all week?”
“Almost, it’s only Thursday,” she says, laughing slightly. “I know I haven’t said anything but I’m really starting to worry about you. I thought you’d snap out of this mood, but I was wrong.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.” I smile, looking back at the computer and trying to get some work done but the screen just seems blank. “And I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll be okay though. I guess I’m just feeling home sick.”
She gives me a closed lip smile and starts twirling her pen between her fingers, which seems to get my attention more than the work I’m meant to be doing. “You know, you could always ask for some time off. Go and visit your family.”
Sounds like a perfect idea. “I know but we have to give two weeks notice don’t we? By the time that comes around, I could be feeling better.”
“That is true. However, I think you might be able to play on Mr. Johnson's heart strings. Just make up something sappy.”
“Sappy? Like what?” I scoff.
“I don’t know, but you could try making him feel sorry for you, you’re a woman. Flutter the eyelashes.”
Typical. Her way around everything, just add a little sweetness. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right.”
Her eyebrow cocks up at me and her mouth screws up to one side. “Cat. Women were given these assets to use them to their advantage. Just go and ask, the worst he can say is no, but what will you lose if he does?”
I’m going to get a sign to stick above her head. She’s full of wise words at the moment. “Good point, I’ll go and see him.” I say and then stay seated which earns me a paper ball to the head and a few encouraging nods. “Fine, I’ll go now.” I get up out my seat and head towards his office, my legs shaking, along with my hands.
After a couple of knocks, Mr. Johnson shouts for me to enter and I feel like fleeing but, like Nod said, “I’ve got nothing to lose.”
I enter and quietly and quickly close the door behind me, standing just inside and waiting for him to give me permission to take a seat. He eventually looks up from behind the huge, dark, wooden desk and waves for me to take a seat. “There’s no need to stand over there, I can’t be doing with shouting.”
Giving him a quick smile I follow his order and go over, each step feeling like I’m taking two backwards. “Thank you and sorry for bothering you, I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Nonsense. That’s what I employ people to be,” he says, giving me a huge glistening smile.
“That’s true,” I joke. “I’ve come to ask you for a favor.”
It gets his full attention as he looks away from the computer completely and looks at me, leaning against the desk on his forearms and linking his fingers together. “I’m intrigued.”
“Okay, so I know that it’s short notice and so I understand if you say no, but I was wondering if I could have a few days off if I can get a flight,” I ramble on. “It would mean I leave tomorrow though.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Tomorrow? That is short notice and not the two weeks that’s outlined in the company policy.”
“I’m aware of that and so I understand that this could be a complete waste of time, but I really would like to go and see my family. I miss them and it’s my cousin’s wedding this weekend and he’s marrying my best friend. I thought I’d be okay not being there but as the time looms, I feel like I need to.” I lie. Okay, it’s not a lie, I do actually regret not making plans to go over for the wedding but it was the only thing I could think of using to pull at the heart strings.
“Family is very important Catalina, but company policy is, company policy,” he irritates.
I can’t help the fact that I sigh in defeat, losing the will to live and wishing I’d thought of a better excuse than that. I can’t possibly tell him I want to be close to my son, because Kyle needs to know about him first.
Back in the office, I sit at my desk and Nod’s straight there. “Did you ask? What did he say?”
“I asked but he’s got to think about it, I’m not holding my breath over it though… might as well have said no.”
“Oh.” She slumps. “At least you know though.”
I hear nothing for the remainder of the morning, or for the couple of hours after lunch. I think I’ve resigned to the idea of not going
home and being close to him and to missing the wedding, but it pinches at my chest dramatically.
My phone rings with the internal tone, dragging me out of my work. Seeing Mr. Johnson’s name pop up on the screen I squeeze my eyes shut as I pick up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Catalina, do you have a minute.” The stern tone pushing all of my hopes off a cliff.
“Sure, I’ll be through in a moment,” I inform him, hanging back up.
I finish my current job, so I don’t forget the figures before I head back to his office and so I can prolong hearing the bad news. I really need this to get through the foreseeable future.
Tapping on the door with my knuckle I wait for him to grant me access. When he does, I puff out my chest, ready to ward off the rejection. Hiding my defeated mind as much as I can.
Retaking my seat I clasp my hands together, twisting them nervously in my lap out of his line of vision. I don’t want him to see my nerves this time.
“Right, I’ve had a good think about it,” he says, not beating around the bush. “And I’ve made my decision. Now I understand you haven’t booked a flight, is that correct?”
My hope has just hit the rocky ground, splattering all over the floor. “That’s right, like I mentioned, I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
He nods his understanding head. “That’s okay then. I’ve arranged for the company airplane to be ready for take off tonight at ten. When you arrive at Heathrow tomorrow, a car will be waiting for you to take you home.”
Cold sweats consume my body and the tears just fall. Rubbing them away I cover my mouth. Still uncertain that he said what I think he did. “I can go?” I whisper. My voice uneasy, shaky.
His smile takes over his face. “You can go. Your return flight is booked for Sunday though, I need to use it to get the cruise liner. You’ll be back at work Tuesday, give you time to catch up on the jet lag, too.”
My hands fly to the arm rests, squeezing them, hoping they’ll crumble under my hands and stab me to make me wake up from this dream. “Oh my God, Mr. Johnson! I honestly don’t know what to say. Thank you so much for this.”
Chuckling, he replies. “With a reaction like that, I've got all the thanks I need.”
I get up and run out the office.
As soon as the doors close, I start dancing in the hallway, all the way to the bathroom because there’s no doubt I look a complete mess from crying. After a quick clean up, I get back to my work. Nod smiles at me, I think she guessed I got what I wanted because I can’t help smiling. I’m so unbelievably happy now, I even start conversation with her about Saturday, because nothing can get me out of my good mood. Not now. Not even Kyle.
After work, I get home and quickly pack up everything I’ll need for the next few days. Dancing round the apartment like I won the fucking lottery. I open a bottle of wine, turn up the music and just twirl and jump from room to room. I feel bloody brilliant. I might as well get some of the British lingo back out, I’m going to be needing it.
At nine, I dig out my cell, ready to call a cab to get to the airport, as I do, the intercom rings. I dread that it’s Kyle, coming to see me. After chucking my phone back in my purse I dash over to the intercom, answering cautiously. “Hello?”
“Miss James, There is a car waiting for you.”
I glance at the receiver confused for a second. “A car?”
“Yes. To take you to the airport.”
Holy shit, Mr. Johnson has thought of everything. “Oh. Oh, okay,” I stutter, “I’ll be down in a second.”
I hang up and grab my purse and suitcase. It feels like I’m going for a week with this weight. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t this heavy when I moved back here.
The whole car journey seemed to take forever. I was bouncing around in the back seat like a kid at Christmas, too excited for a normal human being. I was actually going back to visit my family, to be close to Kody. I was going to be getting on a private airplane and taking off.
When we arrive, I’m greeted by an over done up woman who escorts me through check in and out onto the tarmac. When I get out there, there is an actual airplane sat waiting for me, just for me. It’s white with a blue tail and a large white “J & C” on it. I stare at it wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Jesus!
A middle aged man walks over, holding out his hand. “Miss James, I’m your pilot for tonight. I just wanted to say that if you need anything, there are staff members onboard who will assist you. We are ready for take off at the original time of ten. Is there anything else you need before we board?”
I gape at him like a fish, taking his hand to shake. “No. I’m fine, just shocked, it’s only me.”
“I’m aware,” he chuckles. “But Mr. Johnson insisted you had the full works. Shall we?” he asks, swinging his arm towards the aircraft.
Nodding, I walk towards it. It growing stupidly big for little ol’ me. “Fucking hell.” I mutter, walking up the steps.
Entering the plane the breath is literally sucked out of me. A stewardess greets me, handing me a glass of champagne—stuff I’m growing sick of, I drank too much this weekend. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If you follow me I’ll show you around,” she says, walking away for me to follow her to the back of the plane.
It feels so calm in here, not that I’d expect anything else. But the cream leather chairs and couches just scream one huge cuddle at you. I follow the stewardess, right to the back to a small area that has a couple of chairs and table on one side and a couch on the other. She points to a door further back and explains that’s the bathroom. I smile gratefully as I take my seat in one of the chairs facing forward, popping my glass on the table.
After she’s left, I flip off my converse and get as comfortable as possible, and then place my purse on the shiny mahogany surface and dig out my ereader. Kicking my purse under the table as I prepare myself for the nine hour flight.
At least once an hour the stewardess-Molly, comes back to me ask me and bring me anything I need. Coffee, sandwiches, a blanket and pillow, not that I’ve slept, but it did make it all cozier.
Two books later, the pilot informs me that we’re preparing to land. I prepare myself also, chucking everything back in my purse, putting my hair up and rearranging my tank and three-quarter joggers that have become a crumpled mess through the journey.
Again, Molly, comes back through to me and informs me I can leave the airplane. I smile and thank her for all her help these last few hours, but I’m ready for bed. As I walk through the airport I check the time on the clock, it’s noon and so I re-adjust my watch from seven in the morning to English time, I feel like I’ve lost half a day.
I’m escorted through the airport, as people go on their vacations looking immaculate, me looking like I just crawled out of bed.
Walking outside, the heat hits me. Mom was right when she was telling me about the weather being freakishly warm during our call. Then it dawns on me, she told me—after our talk—that she was going on a last minute vacation. She wouldn’t be here.
It’d be the first time trying to do this completely alone. Normally there was someone home. Normally I’d have someone with me when I visited the graveyard. They weren’t with me constantly, but they were there if I needed them.
I scour the cars out front, using that as distraction from my problem, which is beginning to make my heart race, looking for someone who might be waiting for me.
A stern looking man eventually walks over to me. “Miss James?”
I nod my head, eyeing him suspiciously. “That’s me.”
“Great,” he smiles. “Your bag is already in the car, you ready to go?”
“I am.” I sigh, tiredness outweighing caution. Following him, we pass normal looking cars, and I expect it to be one of them and become concerned when we don’t stop at any. I hope he doesn’t plan on walking me home, London is miles away from where I want to be.
Looking at the back of his head, I notice he’s now covered his dark graying hai
r with a chauffeurs cap, just then he stops at a black Bentley and opens the back door. “You’re kidding right? You sure you got the right Miss James? I could have driven home in a banged up Mondeo.”
“No, Miss James, you’re the right one. Mr. Johnson insisted on the best we could offer. If you want to sleep in the back, feel free to. There is partition glass between us both, but if you need anything, there’s a phone that rings straight through. You just have to drop the center console to find it.”
Well, I’ll be damned. A Bentley? This wasn’t what I was expecting at all. “Fine, but if this ever happens again, feel free to come in a Mondeo that will definitely break down on the M1. I’m not used to this fancy plane and car malarkey.”
He tips his hat down and chuckles. “As you wish.”
“Oh, here’s the address.” I pass him a scrap of paper with my parents’ address, something I scribbled down while on the airplane to keep myself occupied as I waited to exit the aircraft.
With a sigh, I get in, smiling at the fact that my boss must seriously love me for doing this. I would have to buy him something, but what would you buy someone to say thank you, when they clearly have everything they need and want.
Sleep must have gotten the better of me. One minute I’m heading through the streets of London and getting on the M1, the next I’m driving up the A38, heading towards Derby. As tired as I am, nothing can stop the lunatic grin that immediately plasters itself on my face. It’s not home, but it’s where half my blood lies and I’m so excited to be here.
As we take the slip road off the A38, I check out my reflection in the glass and make sure I have everything with me.
Pulling into the street where my parents live I suddenly get a bout of the butterflies.
The car stops just on the first speed bump, just like I used too, and I hear the driver get out. My door opens and the sun hits me like a ton of bricks. Sod’s law; I move and they get perfect tanning weather. I wait for my bag, but Mr. Chauffeur looks at me with a stern expression. I guess he’s carrying it.
Coming Home (Only Time Will Tell #1) Page 13
