by M. Ullrich
It had been weeks since Alice had spent any time with Catherine. They’d had a few short phone conversations, but nothing beyond work and the weather. That wasn’t normal. Catherine had tried to decline Alice’s invitation to dinner Friday night, but Alice wouldn’t allow it.
Catherine had sounded sad when she called early that morning, and Alice was desperate to find out what or who brought it on. Maybe she could help. As Alice feared, a shell of the Cat Carter she knew showed up Friday night. The difference was both astonishing and disconcerting. Alice made it through the main course and dessert without asking about it, but she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.
“I’m going to put the kids to bed.” Dennis collected the dessert plates.
“We’ll do the dishes,” Alice said, her eyes on Catherine. Her husband kissed the crown of her head, and she smiled at the way his beard tickled her scalp.
“I’ll wash, you dry,” Catherine said as she made her way to the kitchen sink. She turned on the water to its hottest setting and rolled up her sleeves before diving in. With a fresh dish towel in hand, Alice sidled up next to Catherine and watched her closely before speaking. She noted how tired Catherine looked. Something weighed heavily on her slumped shoulders, and Alice needed to know what.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been unusually quiet all night, you’re more doom and gloom than usual.”
“Oh gee, thanks, Alice. You sure do know how to make me feel better.” Catherine looked genuinely taken aback.
“Ha! I knew something was wrong!” Alice spoke triumphantly but sobered up the moment she noticed how deep the creases between Catherine’s eyebrows ran. “Seriously. Talk to me.”
Catherine took a deep breath and stared at the dish she held. She traced the design with her thumb until the suds had started to dry, but she remained silent.
“Are you going to wash that dish or just hold it for a while?” Alice’s sarcasm seemed to jump-start Catherine back into action. “Now tell me what’s got you so down.”
“There’s nothing to say.” She washed the dish round and round. “It’s just work stuff, I’m just under a lot of stress.”
“I’ve seen you under stress at work, sweetie. This isn’t that. Is it Imogene?” Catherine dropped the glass she’d been holding into the sudsy water with a splash. Bingo, Alice thought. Now tread carefully. “The job’s a lot of trouble, isn’t it?”
“It’s…” Catherine looked around, and Alice wondered if she was hoping to find a response written on the cabinets. “It was very hard at first. A lot of disarray to sort through, but I think we’re on the right track now.” Alice thought she looked a little too satisfied with her answer as she went back to scrubbing the baked-on remnants of dinner.
“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy,” Alice said. “After dinner that night, I just got the impression that Imogene is a bit…flighty.” Alice continued drying the glass in her hands. “That usually spells disaster.”
“She’s not flighty. Far from it, actually. She’s quite brilliant. You know she’s kept that business open for over ten years on her own? That’s remarkable.” Alice was surprised at how quickly Catherine came to Imogene’s defense. Judging by the blush that slowly crept up Catherine’s cheeks, she wasn’t the only one who felt the quick response was unexpected. “I thought the same thing you did, but it turns out Miss Harris really knows how to run a business.”
“Oh.” Alice eyed Catherine’s downcast face suspiciously. “Well, that’s good. I take it that you got your car fixed, then?” Catherine nodded. “So you’ve been spending a lot of time with Miss Harris?”
“I have to, I mean…” Catherine rinsed off, shut off the faucet, and leaned against the counter. She took the towel from Alice and dried her hands. “I had to evaluate the business and meet with her often to discuss her options.”
Alice narrowed her eyes. She remembered Catherine doing the same thing years ago. She had a way of dancing around a topic by using the right words in the perfect combination to form a response you couldn’t argue with because it was some form of the truth. But she was keeping details from Alice, and that hurt more than an outright lie.
“I saw you and Ms. Nguyen at the park today.” Alice spoke the moment Catherine entered their small apartment off campus. She didn’t even wait for Catherine to put her book bag down.
“You did?” Catherine’s eyes were wide with fear.
“Yup.” Alice crossed her arms and waited for the explanation she was sure would come. She was so confident that this was it, her best friend would finally tell her the truth and stop sneaking around. Alice was happy for Catherine. She had never seen her so content, and she knew that Linda Nguyen had everything to do with it.
“She wanted to use one of my papers from last semester as an example for her class. She asked me to meet with her to discuss it.”
“That’s it?” Alice ground her teeth together. She knew Catherine was lying, she had been lying to her for quite some time.
“Yeah.” Catherine reached into her bag to retrieve a thick book and a calculator.
“That’s really great.” Alice bit off her words as she went to her room and slammed the door behind her. She sat on her bed and wondered if Catherine knew how much it hurt her to be pushed to the outside.
That familiar pain filled Alice’s chest as she watched Catherine close up again. Part of her was ecstatic since she knew it had been almost ten years since someone, anyone, had reached beyond Catherine’s tough exterior. But she was still hurt that Catherine didn’t trust her enough to share things like love and heartbreak with her.
“Sophia and Chris are really grateful that you took the job,” Alice said as she went to the coat closet. She handed Catherine her jacket. “Don’t forget about the St. Valentine’s LGBT benefit next Friday. You bought two tickets back in October, remember?”
“I do not remember.” Catherine laughed. “I’d lose my head if it weren’t for you.” She leaned in and wrapped Alice in a tight embrace.
When they let go, Alice smiled. “You’ll need a date,” she teased.
“There’s someone at the office I have in mind.”
“Oh really?” Alice was intrigued.
“You’re leaving already?” Dennis reentered the room just in time to save Catherine from having to explain.
“Yeah, work’s been kicking my ass.”
“Well, I can’t tell. You always look great. I love this shirt, by the way.” He pointed to the raspberry blouse Catherine was wearing.
“Thanks, Imogene gave it to me.” Alice perked up at this new information. “We’ll talk soon.” With a peck on two cheeks, Catherine was out the door and on her way home, leaving a wide-eyed married couple in her wake.
“Thanks for bringing up the shirt.” Alice wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist.
“I knew you were dying to know about it but wouldn’t ask yourself. Nobody ever suspects the husbands to be just as nosy as the wives.”
❖
Imogene settled into her worn sofa with a full glass of wine in hand. It had been a long week, and after her less-than-warm good-bye with Catherine, she was in need of some liquid relaxation and good conversation to help clear her mind. That’s why she called and invited Sophia over.
“You yelled at her?” Sophia pulled back in surprise.
“It wasn’t so much of a yell as it was a stern, loud voice.” Imogene scrunched her face as she described the scene. “I yelled at her.” She slumped her shoulders in defeat.
“Did you apologize?”
“No.”
“Imogene! That’s so unlike you. I don’t even know what to say!” Sophia frowned. “I almost forgot about my wine because of you!” She leaned forward and grabbed her glass with her long fingers. “Did you at least explain yourself?”
“No.” Imogene took a large swig of her merlot before covering her face with her free hand.
�
��I knew something was wrong,” Sophia whispered over the rim of her wineglass. “When you called me, I could tell by your tone. I didn’t have to be a psychic to figure it out. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to wait forever?”
“I don’t know what to do.” Imogene gulped the last of her wine and set her glass down. “I don’t have anything to really apologize for. I didn’t do anything wrong! And really, what are we? I can barely consider us friends, so what does that make us? Business associates? Acquaintances? She pushed a little too hard with trying to get me to go to the city, I had a sensitive moment, and it should just blow over, right?” She closed her eyes. “Then why do I feel so awful about it?”
Sophia gripped Imogene’s knee. “Because you’re a good person,” she said. “And because you like her.”
Imogene opened her mouth to deny it, but she sighed in defeat and hung her head.
“Oh well, there’s nothing I can do about it now,” Imogene said. “I’ve only ever called her office, and I can’t show up on her doorstep to apologize for something I did two days ago. I’ll wait for the next time she calls about the store, and I’ll apologize then if she’s upset.” She sat back and took a deep, cleansing breath through her nose. “This is all your fault, you know?” she said to Sophia, who seemed more interested in her phone. “You just had to tell me that I’d be some significant person in Catherine’s life, and now all I do is look for signs as to what I’m supposed to do or who I’m supposed to be! It’s ridiculous!
“I haven’t seen one damn thing to support this vision you insist you had, and what the hell is so important on that thing?” Imogene nearly snatched Sophia’s phone away from her when her own phone signaled a new message.
“You may want to get that,” Sophia said.
“Whose address is this?”
“It’s Catherine Carter’s address, in case you decide that you need it. Anyway, Imogene, I should get going. Chris is expecting me home early tonight.” Sophia collected her jacket and purse before making her way to the door. “Apologize to her sooner rather than later. You’ll both feel better that way.”
Imogene didn’t get up. She looked from the closed door to the clock and wondered if nine thirty was too late for a surprise visitor on a Friday night. After only a moment of debate, Imogene decided if Catherine could surprise her, she could do some surprising of her own. She grabbed her coat and keys and left her apartment.
❖
Catherine jumped at the sound of her doorbell. She rarely got visitors, especially late Friday evenings. As she got up from the leather sofa and went to the door, she tightened the sash of her robe and ran her fingers through her damp head of curls. Her slippers echoed as she walked through her quiet condo. When she finally opened the door, Catherine was shocked to see Imogene.
Imogene was breathless, looking like she’d run there instead of taking her car. Her thick red hair was piled carelessly atop her head and her cheeks were pink. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced,” Imogene said, “but I had to see you.”
Catherine stared wordlessly.
“Should I leave or…?” She started to retreat, but Catherine didn’t want to let her get away.
“No! I’m sorry, please come in.” She stepped aside and ushered Imogene into her home. “I was just surprised. Stunned, actually.” She laughed nervously. “Have a seat.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Can I get you anything? Water, wine, beer, I think I may even have a leftover can of soda.”
“Nothing, thank you. I hope I’m not intruding.”
Catherine was standing a few feet away from where Imogene sat. She looked down at her attire and remembered where her evening was heading just before her doorbell rang. Her pajamas peeked out from her bathrobe and her hair was a mass of unruly, damp brunette curls.
“You’re not. I had just finished up a shower and was about to settle in with a few procedural reports when you arrived. Truth be told, you saved me. Welcome to my home,” she said as she sat beside Imogene.
“No wonder why you looked shell-shocked when you saw my place for the first time.” Imogene laughed.
“Excuse me?”
“I look like a crazy hoarder compared to you. You have to have a cleaning lady. Tell me you have a cleaning lady, it’ll make me feel better.”
“A wonderful woman by the name of Rosemarie comes by every other Sunday to straighten up.” Catherine smiled, feeling the familiar ease of being with Imogene. “I could give you her number, but I think your place is perfect the way it is. It feels like a real home.” Catherine tucked one long leg beneath her and relaxed into the corner of the sofa, resting her elbow on the back.
“Oh please. I lose Vixen on a weekly basis, and my place is only a third of the size of this.” Imogene leaned back into the sofa as well.
“If you’d like my theory, and stop me if you don’t, I think Vixen gets lost on purpose. It has nothing to do with how cluttered or not cluttered your place is. It’s that cat.”
“Poor Vixen, she only has one real friend.”
Catherine thought Imogene’s fake pout turned her already plump lower lip into something positively luscious. “One real friend,” Catherine repeated. “Isn’t that all we really need to be happy?”
“Speaking of friendship,” Imogene said, “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”
“No need to. It’s forgotten. It was a long day.” Catherine waved off her apology.
“Catherine,” Imogene said firmly. “I not only owe you an apology, but I also owe you an explanation for my outburst. I was incredibly rude to you, and it’ll only make it worse if we act like it was okay.” She shifted closer.
Catherine noted the seriousness in her tone and sat up straight. “I’m listening.”
Imogene took a deep breath. “I hate telling this story.” She shook out her hands. “Okay, like a Band-Aid. My father was a firefighter with the FDNY, and he died in 9 / 11. I haven’t been back to the city since.” Her words flew out in a rush, her voice wavering as she spoke. Catherine took Imogene’s hands in hers, silently encouraging her to share as much or as little as she felt comfortable with.
Catherine listened intently as Imogene recounted it all, every detail from that day. She hung on every word, from what Imogene had for breakfast to the list of classes she had scheduled that day. Catherine held her breath when Imogene started to describe the way the horrible news had broken out across campus, slowly making its way to her. Catherine’s chest tightened when Imogene started crying.
“I went straight home that night. My mom and I barely ate for weeks until his death was confirmed. The settlement money is what I used to open my store.”
“I’m sure that didn’t fill the void, though,” Catherine offered sympathetically.
Imogene shook her head. “I know now that he was a hero and saved lives that day, but at the time I was so angry at him. He was off that day and didn’t have to go, but because he did, I lost my father.” Once she was finally out of words, full-body sobs overtook her. She slumped against Catherine, who held her tightly.
Catherine didn’t realize what she was doing at the time, but she shifted to lie fully on the couch, holding Imogene. Nothing was in her mind except comforting her, letting Imogene know she was there and everything would be just fine. Catherine’s robe soaked up Imogene’s tears until she started to calm down.
Catherine then realized the position they were in. She noticed the way Imogene’s stray hairs tickled her nose and that she’d been kissing the same spot of soft skin on Imogene’s forehead without her permission. The ease Catherine felt comforting Imogene scared her, but no more than her need to do it. Catherine pulled herself away to retrieve a small box of tissues from the nearby bathroom, feeling cold air engulf her body. She fought against the urge to run back to the warmth of Imogene and resume her hold. Catherine avoided her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she grabbed the tissues and returned to Imogene’s side.
“I’m so…” Ca
therine fought for the right words to say.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Imogene blew her nose and gave Catherine a pained smile. Catherine was stunned by how vulnerable she looked with her makeup running, and how her red-rimmed eyes were the clearest blue she had ever seen them. Imogene stood and put her jacket on quickly.
Catherine wanted to say so much, but she couldn’t find her voice. She wanted to tell Imogene that she didn’t deserve to suffer such pain. She was a beautiful, kind, lovely woman who deserved the good things life had to offer, including someone to shelter her from the bad. Catherine found herself speaking as she rushed to open the door for Imogene.
“I bought two plates for a fundraiser next Friday,” she said to Imogene. “If you don’t have any Valentine’s plans, would you like to go with me?”
“The St. Valentine LGBT fundraiser, right? Sophia and Chris are going to that. I meant to buy a ticket months ago but kept forgetting.”
“So, is that a yes?” Catherine asked, holding her breath.
“Yes. I’d love to.” Imogene’s smile stood out from the sadness that still stained her face.
“Great. Since we all know each other, we’ll have a better time than if I brought a real date who sat like a bump on a log because he’s a stranger. We’ll figure out the details during the week.”
“Sure.” Imogene stepped into the hall and hardly turned back as she wished Catherine a good night.
“Imogene?” Catherine called out after her. “I’m really sorry about your loss.”
Imogene’s baby blue eyes sparkled as she nodded and left.
Chapter Fourteen
Catherine spent more time on personal calls that week than she ever had, making plans with Imogene and Alice for the Valentine’s function. Everything was working out perfectly, until Catherine had an unexpected Thursday-evening date with Richard Thorton. At the end of a particularly long, drawn-out meeting, Catherine found herself in dire need of a drink. She surprised herself by asking Richard, but the fact that his excitement seemed genuine shocked her more.
