Cat's Patient Heart

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Catherine began to cry before he climbed behind the wheel of the red Trans-Am and pulled away. He didn’t look back but she watched until the car turned the corner and moved out of sight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Catherine loathed February 14th. She hated the displays of pink and red heart shaped boxes of candy in the stores, the racks of sentimental cards, the bouquets, and the media blitz. The last time she received anything for Valentine’s Day, she’d been sweet sixteen and Connor brought her a little red bear. She still had it, too, on her dresser. Every time he talked about the annual party at his club, she longed to go but when Lisa arrived on her doorstep everything she dreamed unraveled like a discount store blouse. Even before the Trans-Am vanished from her view, she wanted to take all the hurtful things she’d shot at him like arrows back and tell him how much she loved him. Catherine ached to tell him she’d go with or without Lisa but she couldn’t. He’d used her cell phone all the time he’d been in town – she didn’t have a number for his if he replaced it, no home phone number, nothing but the one at For My Sins.

  She wept until drained of both energy and emotion. Then she sat down in the recliner that smelled like Connor and stared at the four walls until dark. Catherine didn’t move or respond to anything, just parked in place and existed. She didn’t have any more tears left and no voice to say anything. Twice her cell rang but although she picked it up, neither caller was Connor so she let it ring.

  That Friday night she wasn’t hungry and didn’t eat. On Saturday she picked at toast but couldn’t stomach the coffee and vomited so she ate nothing else. Catherine thought about going back to work but she didn’t. Right now she couldn’t stand to walk past the room where Connor had been a patient or travel the halls that she’d skipped through with such joy. She didn’t want to hear the gossip or answer questions. Most of all she just didn’t feel like doing anything. Lethargy gripped her and she sank into a pit of bitter, dark despair then wallowed in it. Her self-pity kept her from bothering to shower or shampoo her hair or pick up the house. Catherine didn’t turn on the television or listen to the stereo or boot up the computer. Catherine didn’t sleep at all and ate little. She lacked the energy to drive anywhere and she sprawled on the couch for endless hours, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t even think because if she allowed that, she might realize how wrong she’d been. And although she wouldn’t admit it, Catherine waited for Connor to call.

  He didn’t.

  By Monday she diagnosed herself with a clinical depression and she toyed with the idea of seeking help. Then she decided it was a broken heart instead and wondered if a cardiologist could help. Catherine pondered the many years ahead, empty and shattered without Connor and realized she didn’t care if she lived or died. She wouldn’t court death but she wouldn’t avoid it either. She was empty within, hollow and without purpose.

  Monday evening she forced herself up out of her seat to get online. Her stagnant pause wasn’t good for herself or anyone else. As Catherine settled into the chair and turned on the screen, she heaved a sigh that rattled her papers stacked on the desk. With little interest she checked the weather forecast, read the traffic reports, and the local paper. Then she logged into her e-mail. Sixty messages popped up, most just group notices from some of her online groups, two jokes sent from her sister, and just before she deleted everything, she saw the message from Connor.

  Catherine almost didn’t read it. Her finger hovered over the mouse, wanting to delete it before anything hurt her wounds further. Tears burned in her eyes, clogged shut her throat, and she hesitated. Curiosity won and she clicked it, opened it and through a cascade of tears squinted at the message.

  "Kitty Cat, if you read this then I want you to know I love you and I’ll always love you. I never stopped, honey, not in ten years. These weeks I spent with you were the best since we were just teenagers and I wanted it to last forever. I knew I’d have to come back to my club but I wanted you to come with me. I intended to see if we could go to my Valentine’s Day party together. No matter what happens, know that I love you. I won’t call you or bother you or anything unless something changes. If you want me, if you need me, call me Cat and I’ll be there for you.”

  He signed it just ‘Connor’

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, not the wild furious tears of hurt and outrage but different. These were slow healing tears. Catherine read the words once, then again and as she wept, she unlocked the images she’d hid from herself and opened herself to memory. Everything she recalled about their weeks together, from that first night at the hospital to that lunch at the Asian restaurant replayed like a movie through her mind. She relived each smile, remembered his expressions, and the look in his eyes when they made love. A baker’s dozen comments echoed in his voice and a hundred, maybe a thousand images of Connor ran through her mind. As she cried, she touched the joy they’d shared and it resonated through her soul like music.

  Catherine realized that she lashed out at him in fear, worried that he’d reject her. Although she didn’t like Lisa and never would, the woman had little to do with her irrational outburst but fright did. Connor burned her years before and hurt her. Although he’d explained why he left and she believed him, she reacted to prevent a reprise when it wasn’t even a danger.

  She’d been so stupid and now they both paid for it. Catherine thought about answering his message but she couldn’t. What she wanted to tell him she’d have to say in person, staring into those deep, dark eyes.

  A powerful rush of need for Connor, the desire to have his arms wrapped around her and to hold him impacted her with force. Catherine pushed back her chair and stood up, prepared to take off to Kansas City and then she paused. She stared down at the stained, dirty garments she’d worn for days. Her own rank aroma wafted into her nose and she choked. When she turned around and caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror, Catherine winced. Her hair hung in lank tendrils around her face, dirty and unkempt. She couldn’t go anywhere like this.

  Love offered the boost she’d needed to rise out of her emotional mire. Catherine stripped away the filthy clothing and stepped into a steaming shower. She scrubbed her body and washed her hair until it became squeaky clean. Then she dried off, hair too and went into the kitchen. If she didn’t eat first, she’d never make the trip. After a bowl of chicken and dumplings soup strength stirred. So did fatigue and as much as she longed to leave that instant, Catherine decided she needed a good night’s sleep. Rest would do wonders for her weary body and she’d be in better form to surprise Connor on Valentine’s Day.

  Before she’d retire, though, she packed a small bag and put it by the door with her purse. Catherine planned to rise early and hit the road but fatigue kept her asleep until midday. She roused bleary-eyed and when she caught sight of the time, she rolled out of bed with speed. With the purpose she’d lacked since Friday, Catherine nibbled a granola bar as she printed up Map Quest directions that would take her to Connor’s club. Although she’d visited Kansas City on a few occasions, she was far more familiar with the Missouri side of the city. After she poured one more cup of coffee for the road she headed north, her heart singing and her nerves twitching.

  Anticipation outweighed her anxiety but she couldn’t help but worry a little. The logistics of finding Connor would take some finesse but Catherine’s confidence increased with each mile she drove north. As she imagined his reaction, she couldn’t help but smile and halfway there, she popped a favorite CD into the stereo so she could sing along. Since Friday, her emotions rode a wild rollercoaster from contented happiness to the lowest levels of despair, from one extreme to another but en route, Catherine knew that she reached the right level, somewhere between that felt right.

  Her journey should have taken three hours, maybe four since she opted to travel Highway 69 on the Kansas side even though large sections remained a traditional two-lane. Multi-lane highway 71 in Missouri rolled into Kansas City on the wrong side of the river and Catherine thought she’d make better tim
e without fighting too much traffic. Her ETA hit rush hour square on and she’d thought there might be less traffic on the older highway.

  She was wrong.

  By the time she reached the outskirts of the KC metro area, traffic increased with every secondary road that funneled into the highway. As 69 widened, the number of vehicles that clogged it grew until Catherine found herself in heavy traffic, something she hated. She gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip and tried to concentrate. Somewhere she took a wrong turn ending up miles from For My Sins and had to backtrack after asking directions at a convenience store.

  Catherine’s plan to arrive before dark failed and it was after six that cold February night before she dashed into a fast food restaurant a few blocks from his club. She struggled within the tiny restroom stall to change out of her sweater and jeans into her best red and black cocktail dress, sparkling with sequins, pull on panty hose, and stick her feet into bright red heels. Catherine bought the dress two years earlier for a staff holiday do and hadn’t worn it since but when she emerged from the stall, she liked her reflection in the mirror. Heedless to the steady stream of customers who came and went to use the restroom, she put on her make-up and brushed her hair until it crackled with static electricity. Connor liked it hanging free so she left it loose, touched up her crimson lipstick, and spritzed with perfume. Then she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders and headed for his club.

  Despite the cold wind that knifed through the streets with an eerie howl, Catherine parked down the block from For My Sins and minced to the club in her pumps. When she stepped inside, a rush of warm air flooded over her and the aromas particular to any night club smacked her in the face. Tobacco smoke mingled with enticing food aromas, an assortment of perfumes and colognes, a little perspiration, the malty fragrance of beer and more wafted together and her heart pounded too fast.

  Someone thrust a single rose into her hand and Catherine glanced up to see a young woman, dressed all in black, nod and say, “Welcome to For My Sins.”

  She could barely make out the words over the hard driving rock and roll music but she shouted, “Thanks.”

  Catherine moved to the side so she could study the layout of the club. To her left, the dining area featured round tables and a few square ones before the long bar. Candles burned in the center of each one beside a single vase with one rose. Couples gazed at each other with open admiration and fiery lust as wait staff moved between the tight tables with trays of food or drink.

  To the right, the dance floor fanned out from a small stage where a band rocked live. Couples danced beneath the silver ball Connor had told her about and behind it a few more tables lined the wall. Through the haze of smoke, she spotted a short corridor that she guessed must lead to the restrooms so she headed that direction. Her eyes cut back and forth, searching for that familiar dark head but she didn’t see Connor anywhere.

  In the restroom, she checked her appearance one more time, decided it would pass, peed out of sheer nervousness rather than need, and then emerged determined to locate Connor. As she hesitated in the back hallway, she noticed three doors. One marked ‘exit’ would lead out back, another must open into the kitchen and she wondered if the third might be Connor’s office. He’d never said but she figured he must have one. Catherine tried the knob and it opened so she stepped inside.

  She fumbled against the wall to find the light switch and illuminated the small room. A desk, two file cabinets and three extra chairs filled the space. There was a laptop computer open on the desk and tacked up on the wall behind the desk, among the invoices, the business license, and other odd bits of paper, she saw an old snapshot that she recognized.

  Catherine moved behind the desk to look closer. In the picture, Connor stood in front of his original Trans-Am, his arm around her. They both grinned at the camera, so young and so much in love. She lifted a hand to trace their images, smiling and yet moved almost to tears. She’d come all this way and she didn’t want to wait another moment to see Connor. Catherine could go hunt for him in the crowd or she could wait here. On impulse, she sat down in his office chair and pulled out her phone. She dialed the club and when Lisa answered it, she said, “I need to speak to Connor Donavan, please.”

  “What?” Lisa screeched, “You’ll have to speak up – I can’t hear you.”

  “I need to talk with Connor,” Catherine shouted back, “Is he around?”

  “Who did you say? Connor? He’s not here,” Lisa yelled. “What can I do for you?”

  Screw off, Catherine thought with an uncharacteristic crudity. “When he’s coming back?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Lisa said, “He said he had errands to run which is pretty weird, you know, busy as we are. Can I give him a message?”

  “No,” Catherine said, biting off the word hard. “Thanks, though.”

  She disconnected the call and exited his office, wondering what she should do now. Curious what kind of errands might take him away from his club when he’d been so hot to return, Catherine wondered if she should wait or what. Standing in the dim hall, she stared into the club and watched couples. Envy stuck a fist in her stomach and twisted hard as her ears echoed with the loud music. With so many people packed into the club, it was hot and as she fanned herself with one hand, Catherine choked on the heavy smells that filled the air. Tiny tendrils of self-doubt curled somewhere around her belly and she thought if she didn’t get her nose filled with clean, cold air, she would puke.

  Catherine started toward the front door but the press of people blocked the way and she’d have to maneuver through them all. She remembered the exit behind her and turned back to find it. With both hands, she shoved it open and almost tumbled out into the back alley. The February wind sent shivers through her body and she trembled. Something pricked her hand and she realized she still held the rose. She didn’t want it so she started across the narrow alley to toss it into one of the dumpsters there but as she stepped out, a car roared down the lane and blinded her with headlights. Catherine stepped back out of the way just before it hit her and she scrunched against the back of the building. Something scurried over her foot and she looked down to see what she thought must be a cat beside her. Then she gave it a second glance and screamed because a rat, tail long and fat, stared up at her.

  I shouldn’t have come, I should have stayed home.

  Catherine bolted, blind and heedless and ran smack into something solid hard enough to knock her breath away. Hands jerked her out of the darkness, rough and she screamed again. She struggled, realizing now that stepping out into a dark alley in a rough section of a big city had been a stupid idea. Catherine kicked as hard as she could, her pointed toed pumps striking someone’s solid shin bone with force.

  “Damn! That’s my sore leg. Would you stop?”

  She obeyed that voice without question as it poured over her soul like sweet wine.

  “It’s you?”

  “Damn straight. What in hell are you doing skulking around in the back alley?” Connor said, sounding angry. “You’ll get hurt or mugged out here.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, “It was too hot inside and I couldn’t find you.”

  Catherine shivered and he swore as he pulled her back into the club. In the dim hallway she could see him as he glared at her.

  “Tell me why you’re here,” he barked. Despite his expression, his eyes danced, alight with hope as he stared at her.

  All the pretty words she’d planned on the way, the things she meant to say, the apologies and the promises flew out of her mind and she said the only things that really mattered, “I love you, Connor and I wanted it to be forever too.”

  His tight features softened and his eyes became liquid emotion, powerful and potent. He drank her in with his gaze and then, without a word, he snatched her to him. Connor kissed her, planted his lips on her mouth with rough right. His mouth engulfed hers and the fever that burned her was contagious. His lips caressed hers, his tongue entered
her mouth and they stood, fused together, mouth to mouth. That heat spread through Catherine and she molded to him, uncaring who might see or what anyone thought. Connor’s kisses smoldered down until she felt her body ache with a yearning need, her cleft moisten with want and when he paused, she clung to him. She didn’t want to let him go and right now she had to touch him.

  Connor stared down at her, face tender and naked as she lifted her right index finger to touch his almost healed gash on his forehead then move it to stroke his face, outlining his eyes, nose, and mouth. He caught that finger and kissed it. “I love you too Kitty Cat. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Where were you?” she asked, needy even in the security of his arms. “I almost cried when I couldn’t find you.”

  Connor laughed, “I just went to send you two dozen roses, baby. I had a hard time watching all the couples in the club and I missed you so bad. I almost headed back down there to find you. Good thing I didn’t.”

  “It is,” Catherine said as his hands played over her body the way a skilled musician makes music. “So what do we do now?”

  “Do you want to go home?” he asked, “I’ll leave now if you do.”

  Catherine did but she shook her head. “We’ll go home in a little while. First, I’d like to do all the things that make Valentine’s Day special at your club. I want to eat, dance, and drink. Then you can take me home and make love to me.”

  Connor kissed her, a swift kiss but with no little heat. “That’s a plan, Cat but there’s something I want to do first.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd onto the stage. When the song ended, Connor took the microphone and said, “Hey, folks, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  In unison the crowd shouted it back to him.

  “I just want to introduce my lady to you, my Cat,” Connor said, “This woman’s the love of my life and you’re going to be seeing a lot of her around her so treat her like a queen ‘cause she’s mine.”