Catching Caitlin

by Amy Isan

  “She reminded me that I had to look forward to the future, to keep my eyes set straight ahead, to think about what other people might want. I think that people really want to be happy, to look forward to the future and where we will all be in a hundred years. I know I might not be here, but my friends and their families might still be. As a CEO, I take responsibility for creating a world that can sustain them, to keep them happy. To stop focusing on the past and look at the future.”

  The interviewer was astonished, and didn’t have much of a followup. He thanked Hugh for his time and concluded the article with the lingering thought that Hugh had given him: ‘Maybe it was time to start looking forward and not at the past. To learn and move on.’

  “What do you think?” Aaron said. He wasn’t looking at his phone, but staring at me. I noticed my jaw was open, and my heart was racing.

  “You really think that was me he was talking about?”

  “Who else could it be?”

  “Someone else... his wife?” I reclined back, feeling overwhelmed with everything.

  “I don’t know, Caitlin. From what you’ve said since you got back, it sounds like he’s talking about you.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and crossed his arms. “Why don’t you try calling him?”

  “Why should I? I already did when I was in rehab. He never called back.”

  “Maybe he’s scared you won’t want him to.” He shrugged and finished his coffee. “I know I’d rather get it over with and stop wondering what-if.”

  “I did...” I stared off out the window. “I did have a dream about him last night.”

  “Sounds like a sign to me, and you know how I feel about that.” He smiled at me. “Call him. You have to.”

  I nodded slowly, not really knowing if I agreed or just wanted it dropped. What if Hugh still loved me?

  “Thanks, Aaron.” I said. He smiled and pulled my plate towards himself.

  “You’re not going to eat this are you?”

  I shook my head, and watched him devour it. I needed to to call Hugh, I knew it.

  ***

  I had tunnel vision when I picked up my phone later that day. I was sitting in my car, the windows rolled up and the engine turned off. I breathed deeply, trying to regain control of myself. I didn’t want to sound crazy if I did get a hold of him.

  “Should I do it? Should I even try?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed the dial key, holding my breath until it started to ring. It felt like ages.

  “Hello?” Hugh answered. I felt my face burn, and I immediately wanted to hang up. “Hello?” he repeated.

  “Hi Hugh,” I said, my voice weaker than I wished it was. “It’s Caitlin.”

  His tone changed instantly, “Cay? Wow, it’s been a long time.” I loved hearing that nick name again. It sounded like he was busy, some clanging and noises on his end.

  “Is this a bad time? I can call back,” I said. It was a good out at least.

  “No, not a bad time at all, I’m just cooking some lunch.” I felt a heavy sense of dread in the air. “What’s going on? Any formal occasion for calling?”

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing... I heard about your promotion. I guess I called to wish you congratulations.”

  “Oh. That’s nice of you,” he said. His tone revealed nothing to me. I was too swamped up inside myself to gauge him at all, especially over the phone.

  “Really though, I can let you finish making lunch, I’m sure you’re entertaining guests or something.”

  “No, you’re fine. No one is here, just me,” he answered. I breathed a little, but tried to keep myself guarded. He exhaled. “Tell me about your last couple months. I hope they’ve been good.”

  “It has been, really good. I’ve been sober for the last two months.”

  “Wow, that’s fantastic!” I started to shiver in my car, grabbing the steering wheel to try and steady myself. “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself,” he added.

  “I’m going back to college too. I’m drafting up an appeal letter to the committee for my scholarship.”

  “Going to finish your Theatre degree?”

  “No, that wasn’t for me. Not anymore at least. I’m going to push for an Environmental Science degree.”

  “Science huh? I never was too great at that... Just the principals I guess.” He stirred on his end, moving what sounded like pots around. Something clanged loudly.

  “Shit, I dropped my pasta.” He sighed into the phone. “What a mess...”

  “Do you need to call me back? Take care of it?”

  “No. I don’t care about the pasta, Cay.” I was silent. “I don’t care about that at all. I’m kicking myself — why didn’t I make myself call you back?”

  “So you did hear my voicemail. Why didn’t you call me back?” I felt my voice giving way, so I cleared my throat to try and keep it going.

  “I didn’t know what to say. You were right. I needed help too, calling you back wouldn’t have made that any easier.” He sighed, “I never confronted Marcia’s death, I never approached it, I just kept it locked up, guarded.” He repositioned the phone. “I’m glad you called me. I’ve been wanting to clear the air with you for a while. We left on a really bad note.”

  “That’s putting it lightly.”

  “But it’s true. It was terrible how I left you like that. I felt terrible for a long time. I still love you, Caitlin.”

  I gasped, and my palms started sweating in the nearly unbearable heat. Sweat dripped off my face into my lap. “I love you too, Hugh...”

  “But maybe we can’t be together anymore,” he continued. My heart sank like a rock, and I felt ill. “I mean... maybe ‘we’ have to move on too. We dated in high school and a little this year, but will it help us if we keep going on like this?”

  “I dream about you,” I said, “I dream about you every week.” He went silent, but I could still hear his breathing. I steeled myself and pushed forward. “I dream of us, being together and keeping ourselves sane.”

  “I don’t know, Cay. We couldn’t help each other before, what makes you think we could now?”

  “I don’t know, but if we don’t try —“

  “No,” he cut me off. “We weren’t in a good place, we won’t be if we get together again. I can’t put you through that. And for myself, I can’t either. Look,” he breathed. “I’m really glad you called me. I’m glad I could get that off my chest, but I think we both have to move on now. We’re just holding each other down.”

  “How am I holding you down?” I snapped at him, “You seem so fine with just tossing me aside. You probably forgot about me until I just called you.”

  “This. We can’t fight like this.”

  I was frustrated. What was I to him anyway, just a good time for a while? I looked at my watch. “It doesn’t matter I guess. I have to finish up this letter.” I pulled the phone down and hung up immediately. I didn’t want him to get another word in, I was too hurt and too pissed at him.

  How could I ache for a man who was so good at frustrating me? I reached out to him and he pushed me away.

  I stepped out of the sweltering car and went inside, feeling anxious. I had to get this letter finished; the sooner I got it done, the sooner I could apply.

  After spending a couple more hours on it, I had drafted a letter of appeal using my recovery as a springboard to approach why I lost my scholarship in the first place. I asked my dad to give it a look over.

  “Looks great,” my dad said, taking his reading glasses off. “I think you make a hell of a case.”

  “Thanks Dad,” I said. “I’m not sure if they’ll accept it.”

  “Getting your alcoholism under control sounds like extenuating circumstances to me. I’m sure they’ll let you have it back, probably on a trial basis.” He handed the letter back to me, and I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of reapplying push on my chest.

  “Okay, I’ll send this off then. We’ll see what happens.” I went
back to my room to finalize some last minute edits. I printed it up and popped it in the mail. It would be on its way tomorrow, and hopefully, their answer would come soon after.

  ***

  I couldn’t sleep that night.

  I turned and faced my dresser. I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but I knew my phone was sitting right there, doing nothing.

  “I should have been more forward with him. I should have asked if I meant anything to him. God knows he meant something to me,” I whispered to myself. I sighed and turned back in my bed, facing the wall. I shut my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep.

  After a couple of minutes of nothing, I got up. It was no use. I wasn’t going back to sleep for the rest of the night. I looked at my clock: 3AM. Too early to really stay up, too late to take sleep medicine. Maybe a snack would help me fall back asleep.

  I snuck down into the kitchen and pulled out some bread and cheese. It would have to do, since it was probably the quietest thing I could make. After finishing my meal, I moved back up to my room. I felt a bit more calm now, and maybe my nerves would stop freaking me out.

  I got under the covers and double checked the time again, clicking my phone on for a second. I had a missed call from Hugh.

  “What the hell.” I redialed him, my mind burning with questions.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said as soon as he picked up. My voice had an edge to it that I liked. Like I might bite.

  He started with an apology, “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “No, I was already up. I couldn’t sleep.” I kept my distance, not letting myself get sentimental.

  “I can’t either.” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “I’ve been thinking about you.” His voice moved away, and came back, “I had another dream about you.”

  “Another? For all I knew, you never thought about me at all.”

  “Is that what you thought? God, I’m an idiot sometimes...”

  I softened a little. I was probably too easy to win over. “No, no you’re not.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have even called you, but I felt like I should. I didn’t tell you that I dream about you too, Caitlin. I lie awake some nights and just think about how much I screwed up.”

  I dared to be bold for a change, “Were you talking about me in that interview? The woman who told you about holding onto the past?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, “that was about you. After you left, I really had to think about where my life was going. I was getting wealthier, but what was the point if I was stuck in emotional purgatory? I panicked when I saw you at the hospital, lying in that bed. It was too much for me, and I thought that I couldn’t live with you dying on me.”

  I sat up in my bed, the sheets falling off me. I listened hard, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart in my ears.

  “I realized that I while I might not be able to live with watching you die, I don’t think I can live without watching you live either.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I miss you Cay... I want you — I want to be with you.”

  I cooed over the phone, and I felt a weight lift off me. “I want you too, Hugh, that’s all I was trying to tell you on the phone earlier. I want to make this work.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can come see you soon.”

  “You really don’t have to,” I said, mostly out of obligation than actual honesty. “You can stay if your company needs you.”

  “They don’t. My project is already moving along nicely, and I deserve a vacation anyway. You should go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I sighed peacefully, “Okay. And Hugh?”

  “Mhmm?”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Sleep tight.” He hung up.

  I fell back against my pillows, knocking my head against the wall. I laughed, giddiness overtaking the pain.

  Months of wishing he’d call me, and all I had to do was call him first.

  I’d like to say miracles do happen, but really, it was just because I dared to try something for myself for once.

  ***

  Three weeks later, near the middle of June, the answer to my appeal came. As I brought the letter into the house, I tried hard to keep my expectations as low as possible. I was sure they denied me. I sat down in my room, I wanted to be alone when I read it. I slid my finger under the sealed end and tore it open.

  I scanned over it quickly trying to find the words that would say I got rejected.

  ”After reviewing your appeal, we are happy to inform you of the reinstatement of your Bell Scholarship for the University of Maine.”

  I cheered, throwing the letter and envelope into the air. I couldn’t believe how excited I was, even more than when I first got accepted. Maybe it was because I actually wanted to go this time, not because I felt like I had to just to get away from home.

  A second letter was inside the envelope, detailing the pre approval of my acceptance to the University of Maine. I didn’t even have to reapply, which was a load off my shoulders. I couldn’t believe any of it. It almost felt like prank.

  I found my dad out in the garage, carving away at a table he was making. He had picked up wood working when my mom came back home, and ever since then our house had been filling with increasingly intricate wood sculptures and art. It was beautiful.

  “I’m going back to school!” I jumped up and down. He turned and took off his safety glasses, looking a bit confused at first. I hugged him, and he chuckled as he understood what I just screamed about.

  He held me in front of him, looking proud. “Look at you. I told things could change. Look at where you were six months ago.”

  “I know, I can hardly believe any of it. Like, the letter feels fake! I gotta call Hugh, let me know when mom gets home!”

  Hugh and I had been staying in touch for the last couple of weeks after our phone call. I dashed back inside, leaving my dad to his work.

  Hugh answered his phone quickly, “What’s going on?”

  “My appeal was accepted!”

  “That’s great! When does the semester start?” He seemed excited, but a bit distracted.

  “The middle of September.”

  “That’s perfect. The project should be at full tilt by then, so I should be able to come visit you.”

  “Oh my god really? It’s that close to starting?”

  “Yeah, we’re mostly just putting some finishing touches together...” he paused, “if it works out, we can open one up on the east coast too.”

  My eyes lit up. “That means...”

  “I could relocate permanently.”

  “That would be... incredible,” I breathed. I swear I could hear him smile over the phone.

  “I have to go right now though, something is coming up. Congratulations, Cay.”

  He hung up. I was overwhelmed. Hugh was really talking about moving to the east coast? What would that mean for us?

  Chapter 12

  The next day, I saw a strange car parked in the driveway as I pulled in from a kayaking trip. As I hauled my kayak into the garage, I forced myself to not think that it could be Hugh. That’d only make me disappointed. He was super busy after all.

  But when I walked in the living room and saw him with my parents, I felt like fainting.

  “...Speak of the devil, there she is,” my dad said. “We were just chatting about you. He showed up earlier this afternoon.”

  I sat down in a recliner facing the couch, feeling out of breath. “Why didn’t you call?” I shook my head. “You always manage to surprise me.” I couldn’t help but smile, he looked so sharp. He looked more formal than I remembered, maybe he bought some new suits. His hair was cut short and styled a little, and he pulled me in with his blue eyes.

  My mom chuckled a little, waking me from my daze. “Let’s give them a little privacy, Dan,” my mom said. “I’m sure they have a lot to talk about.”

  “That won’t be necessary Mrs. Winters
,” Hugh said. “We can go back to my place and talk.”

  “Please,” my mom said, standing up. “We can just go to another room. It’s nice to meet you again Hugh, and congratulations.” My mom and dad left the room, disappearing down the hall.

  I was sitting in a chair opposite of Hugh, but I felt that void between us, that heated space where our skin just begged to be touched.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” he finally said. I broke my stare, and laughed with a sense of giddiness. I stood up and moved closer to him, and he grabbed my waist and pulled me in between his legs.

  “God I’ve missed you,” he said, standing up. Before I got a chance to say the same, he ran his hand up my cheek and brought me in for a kiss. A long, deep, passionate kiss. I moaned in his arms, feeling my legs give out underneath me.

  He held me up, and bit my lip, taking it into his mouth. He sucked on it gingerly, and I let out a small moan.

  It was unreal to be held by him again, his masculine scent striking me in the heart. I clasped his elbows. I could feel his heart beat against my breasts.

  “Hugh, why did it take so long for us...”

  “Shh,” he cooed, caressing my face, “we’re together now aren’t we? I’m not going anywhere.”

  I took his hand off my face and looked at it. His wedding band was gone.

  “Your wedding ring...?” I asked. He smiled at me. “You’re not wearing it?”

  “I did a lot of thinking, Cay,” he said. I got goosebumps across my neck. “I realized that Marcia would have wanted me to be happy... thinking about it, she would have been downright mad if she knew that I made myself miserable for so many years over her.”

  “Hugh...”

  “That wasn’t the life she would have wanted me to have. She wanted me to be happy, and Caitlin, I have to admit, I am happy. I’ve never felt happier, letting go of that pain.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll never forget her, and she’ll always be someone precious and dear to me. I should cherish my memories of her, not shrink from them.”

  I beamed, “Hugh, that’s beautiful.”

  “Caitlin, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe how great you look. You have this glow, a glow I remember from before. It was this spark of life that first brought me to you, this irresistible urge.”