Gold

by E. J. Noyes

  I stayed awake for a little while, imprinting the sense of her in my arms to carry me through the next few months. When I woke after a restless sleep, it was still dark, the house quiet and Cate asleep. It was a badly timed twist that the day they were leaving was the day Rachel and Kyle had nailed me down for our morning of skiing at the Golf Course Bowl.

  When I’d indicated I might back out to spend time with Cate and Co before they left, my friends had almost tackled me, hurling breathless threats and fighting each other to be heard. It was the only time the three of us could get time off together for ages, so I held up my hands, told them to cool it and said I’d try to be there.

  What made my agreement easier was that when I’d mentioned it, Cate insisted that I go and enjoy my morning. They would just be packing and cleaning, and there was no reason I should waste such beautiful conditions. She was right, there was nothing I could do but be in the way. I’d said my goodbyes to everyone, some time on the mountain made sense, and Cate would come by before they left. Even with all my rationalizations, leaving her felt like the wrong thing to do.

  I stumbled out of bed to dress and was almost to the bedroom door when Cate murmured, “Aspen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “C’mere.” She extracted a hand from under the covers and held it out to me.

  I climbed back onto the bed, leaned over and kissed her lightly. “I gotta go.”

  “In a minute.” Cate pulled me down on top of her, surprising me with the force of her return kiss. It was hungry and needy and not at all conducive to my leaving. When I tried to pull back, she held me tighter, gently stroking my tongue with hers. I gave in, letting myself drop onto her, delighting in the hum at the back of her throat and the way she lifted herself up against me. Morning of skiing be damned, this was where I belonged. As I started to worm my way back under the covers, Cate broke the kiss.

  “Hey,” I protested.

  Cate leaned her forehead against my shoulder, breathing heavily. “Okay, go,” she murmured.

  “That was so not fair. Now I’m all wound up.”

  Smiling, she shrugged, reaching up to touch my cheek. “Be safe. Have a great morning.”

  I grumbled at the aborted intimacy. “Always. I’ll see you later.” After another quick kiss, I pulled away.

  “Mhmm. I’ll see you at midday.”

  Thoughts of them leaving took up every part of my brain as I stopped by my place to change, grab my stuff, then drive up to Thredbo. I’d made a deal with myself that I would accept the time apart was something I couldn’t change, but sick resignation still filled my body. It wasn’t the first time in my life that I’d had to wait for something, but to put the brakes on exploring possibilities with Cate was so unfair.

  I easily found a parking space, sorted out my backpack and carry straps, and trudged up to meet Kyle and Rach. The three of us were first in line when the lift opened, and after a long lift ride and a traverse across the mountain we jumped straight into our first run. I’d promised myself that for the hours I was on the snow, I wouldn’t think about being alone tomorrow.

  By the time we’d finished our first run my head was clear, stomach full of excitement and good adrenaline but nothing more—nothing sinister and nothing to fear. The powder was excellent and I had to admit that it was the best way to keep my mind off things. We skied until late morning then paused to take a breather near the start of the Golf Course exit run. Snow had started to fall about half an hour earlier and I stared into the distance, watching it coming down at an angle as I sucked water from my Camelbak.

  Thoughtfully, I clamped the mouthpiece in my molars and chomped on it a few times before releasing it. “This is it for me. Cate’s going to be around soon.” I tried to keep my tone light, but felt like I was choking.

  “Yeah yeah.” Kyle stuck his tongue through his forked fingers and waved me off.

  My answer was a raised pole with middle finger extended as I slid away from him and Rachel. With the Les Mis soundtrack in my ears, my thoughts were on a shower and clean clothes when I got home. I’d be in my car in thirty minutes, home in just over an hour, Cate would arrive in an hour and a half for our goodbyes.

  Goodbyes. My hands tightened involuntarily on my poles. There was such a strange irony to the whole thing, to have found someone who lived so close while I was nowhere near home. Was it possible that I might never have met her if it wasn’t for me being in the southern hemisphere? I probably wouldn’t have seen her back home—we skied at different resorts and I hadn’t worked a season in the States for years, preferring to hide in Australia, Canada, Europe, or Japan.

  It would have been so easy for Cate to slip past me without ever touching my life. I shot off the bank around a copse of eucalypts, almost shuddering at the thought of how close I’d come to missing her. Twisting through trees on my way down the mountain, I wondered if maybe it was the universe’s way of telling me it was time to go home for good.

  Cate arrived earlier than she’d said she would, the knock sounding as I pulled on jeans after a shower. I only had time to yank on a thin T-shirt without a bra, and a blast of cold air tightened my skin with goose bumps the moment I pulled the door open to find Cate on my porch. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Cate slipped inside, quickly closing the door behind her. Her hand made its way under my shirt to rest against my hip and her greeting kiss was brief, landing at the edge of my mouth.

  I hadn’t expected her to shove me against the door and have me the moment she arrived, but I had expected a little more enthusiasm. The uneasiness I’d been trying to suppress since the night before rose up again, coalescing into a hard knot in my stomach. I crossed my arms over my chest, rubbing my hands up and down my biceps. “Are you guys packed?”

  “Pretty much. Just cleaning the house before we hand over the keys.”

  “Ah, so that’s the reason you wanted to come around now. Skipping all the annoying stuff.”

  Cate laughed quietly. “Absolutely.” She pulled a flat box from inside her jacket and offered it to me. “Here. We saw this in the village the other day and thought of you. I forgot to give it to you last night.”

  “Wow, thank you. That’s so sweet.”

  “You’re welcome,” she murmured.

  I ran my thumb over the smooth cardboard. “Should I open it now?”

  “Yes.”

  I opened the box and pulled out a beautiful scarf, patterned in shades of green, with wool so soft I wanted to bury myself in it. I brought it to my nose briefly then wrapped it around my neck. “Thank you, Cate,” I said around the tightness in my throat. It was just a scarf but also so much more, because everyone who knew me knew scarves were an ever-present part of my wardrobe.

  “I was right,” she said, straightening the edges. “Those colors bring out the green in your eyes. I’m glad I gave it to you.” Her fingers brushed along the edge of my jaw, the tremor unmistakable.

  “Cate? Are you okay?” I reached for her hand. The question was stupid because clearly she wasn’t. But I didn’t know if this was just how she was when she was concerned about something or if it was something else. “You seem a little unhappy.”

  Cate looked down at our joined hands, her fingers tightening around mine. After an eternity, she raised her eyes to mine and they seemed as remote as an iceberg. “Aspen…I don’t think we should see one another when you come home.”

  The words registered, but no matter which way I examined them, I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. All I managed was a barely audible, “Oh.”

  “This is incredibly difficult for me,” she said earnestly.

  I swallowed and took a step backward, away from her and this bombshell she’d just dumped on me. “May I ask why?” Carefully, I disengaged my hand from hers.

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” She was so controlled, which made the whole thing even more surreal.

  “That’s not a reason, Cate,” I shot back. “I think I deserve at least some sort of
explanation.”

  Her breathing was slow and measured. “I just think you’re not sure what you want. You’re so young, how can—”

  I held up a hand to stop the thread she was starting. “There’s only nine years between us. It’s hardly a May-December romance.” The flash of color on my nails caught my attention, and I could have laughed at the irony. Each one was painted a different hue. “Or is thirty-two still too childish for you?”

  An incongruous smile curled at the edges of her mouth. “No, not at all. I adore that exuberance, your enthusiasm.”

  “Then what? I don’t understand.”

  Cate drew in a breath, crossing her arms with hands tucked in against her sides. “You’ve got so much ahead of you. I don’t want you to wake up in a year, or five, and wonder what you’re doing tied down with us. Or worse, staying with us out of obligation.”

  I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets but the tremble moved up my forearms. I hoped she couldn’t see it. See how afraid I was. “Please don’t tell me what I want, and please don’t use my age as a bullshit excuse. It’s beyond insulting.”

  Cate raised both hands. “I’m sorry. I really don’t have an issue with it. It’s not that.” She pulled out one of the chairs at the kitchen table and lowered herself gracefully.

  I sat to her right, at the head of the table. “Dammit, Cate. Then what is it?” I asked again. “A few days ago I thought we were on the verge of something new and exciting.” I raised my hand, intending to enforce my point with a gesture, but in the end it just fell helplessly back to the table. “And now I’m trying to figure out if I’m just delusional.”

  “You’re not delusional. I like you, Aspen, really I do. You’re funny and sweet. We’re so compatible in bed it’s almost too good. You’re kind and patient with Gem, and she thinks you’re wonderful. So do my friends and their kids. You’re everything I would want in a partner.”

  Everything she’d said were signs pointing to her wanting to spend time with me. “So what’s the but then?”

  “But…I don’t think you’re as ready for commitment as you think you are.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked quietly. There was an uncomfortable sensation working its way through my body, suffusing my limbs with a heaviness I thought I’d never be able to shake.

  “You’ve said you want to settle down, and I think you almost believe yourself but I’m not so sure.” Her eyebrows drew together. “I need someone who’s secure. Your job is transient. You’ve spent the last however many years running away from whatever it is you can’t face. I can’t risk Gem getting even more attached, me getting more attached, and then you running away.”

  Running away.

  I drew a hand over my mouth, almost managing to stifle the disbelieving scoff. “You know I was just thinking this morning that maybe you and your daughter were a sign that it was time to go home and settle. I’m such an idiot,” I added in a mumble.

  “No, you’re not an idiot. You’re…” She looked away, as though she’d find the inspiration in my small dining room.

  “I’m what?” I leaned across the table, looking for some coded thing she wasn’t telling me. Nothing she’d said made sense. I wanted a family. I could provide for a family. I was ready for a family. A sickening thought came to me, and when I asked the question it came out hoarsely. “Is this about the drug thing? I own what I did in the past but I’ve been clean for over five years, Cate and I’ve worked damned hard for that.”

  Unblinking, Cate stared at me. She seemed to be searching my face and I wondered what exactly she was trying to find. The silence grew thick and heavy until she broke it with a quiet, “No, it’s about the way you treat yourself.” She exhaled loudly. “I think…I think you’re punishing yourself with the pain, Aspen. Using it to remind yourself of everything you could have done and the people you think you let down. You don’t treat yourself well enough to make me believe you’d be different with us.”

  My response was clipped. “That’s not fair.” I tried to tamp down the emotion curling in my chest but it rose up, demanding to be recognized. It wasn’t anger or hurt so much as a feeling of dread. This wasn’t something I could win because she’d already made an assessment of me. An incorrect assessment.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” she said quietly. “To me, this kind of seems like you think you deserve to hurt every day to atone for feeling like you let everyone down.”

  The tremor moved to my shoulders, a clenching at the back of my neck. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Cate.” I was surprised at how calm I sounded.

  “Okay,” she said softly, almost disbelievingly. Her eyes were shards of granite. This wasn’t the Cate that I knew. Or…was it? How much can you really know someone after a few weeks? I thought I knew her well enough to want to pursue something more with her, but this was not the woman I’d spent time with. This woman was a stranger.

  The new scarf felt like it was choking me. I tugged at it, trying to loosen the constricting wool but my fingers refused to grip it. Cate reached out as though she was going to help but I leaned back, away from her. Finally, I manage to free the scarf, tossing it to the chair beside me. “There’s nothing I can say, is there? You’ve made a decision for both of us.”

  Cate placed her hands on the table, her fingers curling backward on the surface until her hands were fists resting knuckles down. After a moment, she stood. “I think I should go.”

  “Sure thing. Safe trip home,” I said evenly. There was no point in ranting, or crying or pushing. We’d gone from lovers to strangers in a matter of minutes and I was nothing more than a spectator in this charade. She had made sure of that. I walked to the doorway, acutely and uncomfortably aware of the unevenness of my stride.

  Cate pulled on her coat, then opened the door, letting in a blast of frigid air. An unconscious shudder rocked my body and I had to close my eyes to fight the surge of vertigo. She squeezed my shoulder perfunctorily, the way you would for an acquaintance who’d just told you their dog had died. “Take care of yourself, Aspen. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” Cate blinked rapidly a few times. “I’m sorry, really I am.”

  Both of my hands came up before I remembered that I wasn’t allowed to touch her now. My hands fell back to my sides, fingers curled into loose fists. “So am I.”

  Cate’s gaze was searching, as though she wanted me to say something more. When I didn’t, she nodded once as though confirming a suspicion. Then she walked away from me without looking back. I followed her and stopped at the top of the stairs where, motionless, I watched her get into her car and drive away. Out of my life.

  A persistent sensation clawing at my skin added to the choking discomfort. I forced myself to accept and acknowledge exactly what it was and why it was happening. Then I remembered that no matter what Cate had just done, I didn’t need to do what that hidden, hateful part of me wanted to do to ease the feeling. Five years, five months and twelve days.

  The cold tremors soon had me shaking, and my legs trembled so badly I had to sit down before I toppled. I half-sat, half-fell onto the top step with my legs sprawled on the steps below. Until that moment, I didn’t think I really believed it. Dreaming. Something, anything but what it really was. Leaning against the wooden post at the top of the deck stairs I closed my eyes and tried to calm down.

  She’s gone. She didn’t want you. You’re not good enough for her and her daughter. My chest tightened and before I knew it, I couldn’t breathe. I leaned backward until I fell and was lying on the deck, the cold surface chilling me through the thin tee. I stared up at the brilliant blue sky, wondering just where I’d gotten it so wrong. Covering my face with my hands I tried desperately to slow my ragged, sobbing breathing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Slow. Torturous. Empty.

  For days, time dragged on until the absence of her changed from the sharp burning pain that had kept me on edge, to a constant dull ache that made me sluggish and weak. I didn’t know
which was worse. Physical pain I could handle but it’d been so long since I’d had emotional pain like this that I didn’t know how to work around it. I loved irony but this was ridiculous. I’d only met Cate because I’d been hiding from my past. And that hiding was the very thing that’d come between us.

  Hayley thought I was playing a joke when I Skyped to tell her what had happened. Her incredulous denials turned to anger and then a sad kind of sympathy. The theme was constant—are you okay, are you sure, please tell me if you’re not okay. She was moments away from getting on a plane and coming to see me, until I assured her that I would be fine. And I would be fine. Eventually.

  “Have you called Doctor Spencer?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you going to?” Hayley’s question was cautious—as cautious as she’d ever been with me even while I was in the throes of drug addiction and a messy breakup—and I wondered what exactly she saw in my features.

  I rubbed a hand over my face as though I could rub away whatever expression I was wearing. “Yes.” After a long sigh I pulled my hand away. “I’m just so frustrated with myself. I only knew her for a few weeks. Really, what have I lost?”

  “Possibility,” my sister said softly.

  “I guess.” I forced a smile and made my exit. “Listen, it’s late. Or…early rather. Call me in a few days?”

  “Will do. We love you, Aspen.” She blew a kiss at the screen.

  “Love you guys too.” When her image disappeared I closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table. I lay awake for the rest of the night listening to the distant sound of traffic, animals, and then eventually the nothingness.

  I’d always been prone to over-thinking and this was no different. If Cate had decided she wanted nothing to do with me, that I was nothing more than a vacation fling, then there was nothing I could do. So I’d fallen hard and she hadn’t really fallen at all. So she’d used me. Whatever. The rationalizations echoed in my head like someone shouting into the wind.

  The whole thing felt nothing like the Cate I’d come to know. Then again, how well could you really know someone after three weeks? Certainly not well enough to be as upset as I was about her dismissal of me. It was time to move on. She just didn’t want me. Fine, whatever, I didn’t care. I almost believed myself.