Chapter Seven
Cathy stuck close to the cottage in the days following the wedding that wasn’t. She stayed in her gown all day and ate cookies and chips while she watched game shows during the day and sitcoms at night. She fell asleep each night as she watched a classic movie and woke up in the middle of the night with the TV blaring loudly. She turned it off and fell back asleep. Sleep was really her only escape from the reality of her life.
Grandpa was kind and gave her the space she needed. One email a day from her was enough to reassure him that she was coping.
On Saturday, a week after the wedding date, Cathy threw the covers off the bed. She had to get up and get going. Enough of the sadness and depression. She showered and dried her hair. It was getting chillier outside, so she pulled a sweater out of one of her boxes before she went to Grandpa’s house.
“I’m just going to the B and B for a fall brunch,” Grandpa said when he saw her. “Why don’t you come with me.”
And so she went to the B and B where she feasted on the fall buffet of quiche Lorraine, hash browns, sausage, pancakes, and biscuits with homemade peach jam. Eileen joined them halfway through their meal.
“Eileen, I want to thank you for taking care of my dirty work,” Cathy said.
“It’s no problem at all, sweetie,” Eileen said, pushing her bleached red hair back into its bun. “I’m just sorry you’ve had to go through it.”
“Me too,” Cathy said. She wanted the subject to change and Grandpa obliged her.
“Cathy’s staying in the cottage, as I told you,” Grandpa told Eileen. “I think she might start doing some work on it soon.”
“It sure needs some work,” Eileen said. “I thought the paint was peeling off the walls the last time I saw it.”
It felt a little strange to be having completely normal conversation when her life was devastated, but the world did go on. She was going to have to adjust to that.
When they were leaving, Eileen pulled Cathy to the side.
“If you want to do some work, I’ve got some work for you. It’s not glamorous like that magazine job you had, but it’s work and you get to meet a lot of nice people. I need a waitress and sometimes cook, if you’re looking for something to do.”
“Thanks, Eileen,” Cathy said with a smile. “I’ll give that some serious thought.”
And Cathy did think about Eileen’s offer over the next week as she researched paint colors for the cottage. She had nearly twenty thousand dollars from her retirement fund at the magazine—she had opted for the employer-matching plan and it had paid off. She had no rent or utilities to pay on the bay, so the money should last her for a while.
It had only been three weeks since she’d left Aaron and her life in Atlanta. It wasn’t easy, but she was getting by, letting go more and more every day the thoughts of her former life. But she didn’t feel ready to start working at a new place with new people. She just needed to survive until she felt whole again.
She deleted her Pinterest page with boards featuring Mission-style furniture, paint colors, and vintage Arts and Crafts era pottery. She tried not to think about how she would have been decorating her new house as a newlywed while she was instead refurbishing the cottage as a broken-hearted single person.
When she had settled on her paint colors—creamy white, sand, and subdued greens and blues—Cathy drove to the paint store in Fort Walton. She was looking at the rollers wondering which type to get when someone behind her said, “Here’s the one you want.”
She turned to face a man with light brown hair streaked by the sun. His blue eyes lit up in recognition.
“Cathy?” he said.
“Neil!” Cathy said. She might have shrieked a little. “I can’t believe it’s you. I thought you left the bay.”
“Yeah, I did. I went to college in Baltimore.”
“I know,” she said. “And I heard you were a big hit and that you stayed there.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked. “A big hit? Sure wish somebody had told me that.”
Cathy chuckled. It was the first time she’d laughed since the woman called her over a month ago.
“I came back to the bay a couple of years ago,” Neil said. “That whole art world scene got to me after a while, all those phony people, the show openings. Not to mention, I never knew if I would sell enough to make my rent each month.”
An image of Aaron flashed through Cathy’s mind. He was so wealthy that he had paid for their new house outright. He really had no idea what normal working people went through just to make a living.
“I guess being a popular painter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Cathy said.
“Hey, would you like to grab some lunch and catch up? I could give you some pointers on painting. It’s what I do for a living now—painting houses instead of art.”
Cathy glanced at the counter where her cans of paint sat waiting for her to check out.
“Sounds good,” she said. “I just need to get the rest of the stuff here.”
Neil helped her choose brushes, rollers, and pans, along with painter’s tape and a few other tools to make her job easier. He put everything in her trunk and together they walked down the sidewalk of the strip mall to The Orchid House. It smelled rich and spicy when they stepped inside.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Cathy said. “I always used to get the yellow curry chicken and fried rice.”
“I come here about once a month,” Neil said.
The waitress seated them next to a window and Cathy looked out at the highway, visualizing the ocean in the distance. It wasn’t so bad to be home, she just wished the circumstances had been different. Her mind started to wander to her failed wedding, then she forced herself to get back to the present. Neil was ordering dumplings as an appetizer.
“I heard you left the bay, too,” Neil said after the dumplings had been placed on the table.
Cathy took a bite of dumpling, savoring its delicate flavors.
“I did,” she said after she swallowed. “I was working for a city magazine in Atlanta.”
“Why’d you come back?”
She thought about saying that she’d gotten sick of the city life and homesick for the bay, but she didn’t.
“I was engaged and it didn’t work out,” she said. It was the first time she had said the words out loud, and it wasn’t as awful as she thought it would be. “I just didn’t want to stay after that.”
Neil reached over the table and covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry,” he said.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start blubbering right there at the table. She was still ultra sensitive about what had happened.
“Thanks,” she said. Their food arrived then and Cathy was glad to stop talking about her sorry life.
Instead, they talked about high school and what had happened to everyone they knew. “I can tell you what happened to Lindy,” Neil said.
“Lindy? You don’t mean Lindy McAlister do you?”
Neil grinned at her. “I sure do. We got back together a few months ago. They say you can’t go home again, but I’ve managed it and got my old girlfriend back, too.”
“That’s wonderful, Neil,” Cathy said. “You seem pretty happy about it.”
“Yep.”
Cathy knew what had happened to a lot of people from Facebook, where you never had to be out of touch or wonder about anyone. It was right there in daily posts.
“I don’t do Facebook,” Neil said with a laugh. “My gallery tried to get me into it to promote my painting, but I refused.”
They talked some more about high school, including one math teacher, Mr. Edison, who was quite a character with his bow ties and pencil-thin mustache. By the time the meal was over, Cathy had laughed many times.
As Neil walked Cathy back to her car, he said, “Would you like some help with your painting?”
“Well, I can’t really afford to pay anyone to paint. That’s why I’m doing it myself.”
“I did
n’t mean for you to pay me,” Neil said pretending indignation. “Have you ever painted before?”
“I painted my bedroom when I was a teenager,” she said.
“I’ll bet it was lavender, right?”
“How’d you know?” she said laughing.
“Us painters know a lot,” he said. “But seriously, I was thinking you might need some help, at least getting started. I don’t mind doing that.”
“Could you come over tomorrow?” Cathy asked.
“I’m finishing a job in the morning, but I could come in the afternoon.”
“Okay,” she said. “I won’t attempt anything until you get there.”
Neil opened her car door and waved goodbye. She watched him go back into the paint store before she turned onto the highway and headed to the cottage. When she got there, she walked out on the pier before she unpacked her car. She sat for a while, hanging her feet over the edge, looking at the vast blue water. She and Aaron had talked several times about making a trip down here, but they never did, and now she was happy about that. His ghost was nowhere to be seen in her bay town.
Chapter Eight
Cathy heard Neil pull up to the cottage a few minutes after one the next afternoon. She watched him as he got out of his white truck and walk up her steps. He had been a cute boy in high school and he had turned into a handsome man.
“These are some good colors,” Neil said as he looked at her paint cans.
“They’re from the Seaside series,” Cathy said. “I want the place to reflect its surroundings.”
“Which room do you want to do first?”
“I was thinking the living room since that’s where I spend most of my time.”
Neil looked around. “These slatted walls are going to be a little more work than sheetrock. You can roll ‘em, but them you’ll have to go over each groove where the slats meet with a brush.”
She and Neil pulled the furniture away from the walls into the center of the room. He placed a drop cloth on the floor along the bottom edge of the wall.
“I’m going to show you how to do the cutting in,” Neil said. “Got a stool?”
Cathy retrieved a stool from the pantry. Neil poured the Sandy Shores paint into a plastic container and stood on the stool. He could reach the ceiling with ease.
“Now, a lot of people believe in taping everything off,” he said. “But with this angled brush, you can just pull the paint along and keep it in a straight line.” He pulled the sand-colored paint along at the edge of the ceiling. It stood in stark contrast to the dingy white walls. She couldn’t wait to get those walls all covered in paint.
Neil moved along with the brush, scooting the stool down when necessary. He reached the first corner and turned to her. “Wanna try?”
Cathy pulled her dark hair back with a clip. Neil handed her the brush and pail and she stood on the stool. She couldn’t reach far enough.
“Looks like you need a ladder,” Neil said with a laugh. “I’ve got one out in the truck, but why don’t you let me finish cutting in for you? It’ll be a lot quicker. You can roll.”
Cathy didn’t argue with him. In what seemed like just a few minutes, Neil had gone around the perimeter of the room and around the doors and windows before he started over with a second coat. He poured some paint into the pan and showed her how to load the roller. He rolled the paint onto the slats horizontally.
“Normally, I’d be all over the wall with the roller, but these slats force us to go sideways.” He handed her the roller and she loaded it up. It dripped onto the drop cloth as she moved it to the wall.
“Got a little too much on the roller,” he said.
She returned it to the pan and rolled it some more to squeeze the extra paint out. Then she started on the wall. It was cumbersome work, at first, but she finally found a rhythm with it. When she started the second wall, Neil ran the brush between the slats on the first wall. After two coats, they stepped back. The room was completely transformed into a cozy and inviting space. The late afternoon sun glinted in places off the semi-gloss paint.
“We’ve got time to do the baseboard today if you want,” Neil said.
Cathy got the can of cream paint and handed it to Neil. He poured it into another plastic container and dipped another angled brush into it. He expertly painted all of the baseboards and doorframes without getting a drop of paint where it shouldn’t go.
“You might want to use tape when you do that, if it makes you more comfortable. And you’ll want to tape the windows, I guess.”
“I guess you don’t have to tape them,” she said.
“I don’t use tape much,” Neil said. “But I’m an expert.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how to thank you, but I can offer you a beer.”
He followed her into the kitchen, giving a low whistle when he entered the room. “This is a real vintage kitchen,” he said. “Don’t see ‘em too much anymore.”
He ran his hand along the red Formica countertops. “This stuff’s still in good shape. Are you going to keep it?”
“Definitely,” she said. “I have a lot of good memories of making cookies with my mother on those counters.”
“The cabinets look like they’re in good shape, except they need a paint job, of course.”
“I’m going to paint them cream,” she said. “And the walls that blue color. Then I was thinking of replacing the hardware with some of those glass knobs, maybe green ones.”
She handed him a beer and they went out to the pier. The sun was setting now in the November sky. It would be Thanksgiving soon. She recalled last year’s Thanksgiving when she had worked all day to make turkey and dressing and several side dishes. Aaron told her it was better than his mother’s, and that was saying a lot.
Cathy blinked her tears away, hoping that Neil didn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t say anything.
“Do you ever fish out here?” he asked.
“I used to, but not for years now.”
“Lindy would love it out here,” he said.
“You should bring Lindy over and we’ll fish. I’ll even make us a picnic lunch,” Cathy said. She didn’t know why she was feeling so friendly all of a sudden. Maybe she was going to be all right after all.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll bring the beer.”
“How about this Saturday? I heard the weather’s supposed to be good.”
“Let me call Lindy and make sure she hasn’t made other plans for us. You know how that is.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Cathy went further down the pier to give him privacy while he talked to Lindy.
“She says that sounds fun,” Neil shouted a moment later from the end of the pier. “She can’t wait to see you.”
*************************
Neil and Lindy arrived at eleven on Saturday lugging a cooler.
“It’s so good to see you,” Lindy said giving Cathy a hug.
She looked around the living room and dining room, which Cathy had already painted.
“It looks good in here,” Lindy said. “Let’s see the kitchen. Neil told me all about it.”
Good old Lindy. She was as blonde and petite, and as perky and cute as she used to be. Guess that’s why she was a cheerleader in high school.
Lindy went into the kitchen ahead of Neil and Cathy and made a beeline for the vintage stove.
“Babe, you didn’t tell me about the stove!” Lindy said excitedly.
“Lindy runs a vintage shop in town,” Neil said by way of explanation for his girlfriend’s excitement at a stove.
“Yeah,” Lindy said. “Lindy’s Vintage. We’ve got some stoves in there, but none as nice as this one.”
Lindy walked around the kitchen touching every surface, from the countertops to the vintage kitchen table. She even opened the Hoosier cabinet doors and admired the Fiesta ware on the shelves.
“Please excuse her for snooping,” Neil said with a laugh. “She can’t help herself.”
Cathy laughed. “It’s
okay. It’s nice to have someone appreciate this old stuff.”
Cathy grabbed her cooler of smoked turkey sandwiches and potato salad. Neil went to his truck and brought in three fishing rods.
“I didn’t know if you had one anymore so I brought an extra,” he said. “I also got the shrimp heads.”
“Yum,” Cathy said.
Everyone who grew up on the bay knew how to fish. They all threaded their hooks with shrimp heads and threw their lines out, but not very far. They reeled their lines in slowly, coming up empty time after time.
“Got one,” Lindy said. She wound her taut line in slowly, pulling up a nice-sized trout. She held it out to Neil. “You do it,” she said. “I hate that part.”
They laughed and joked through the afternoon, stopping to eat at one point, drinking beer from the cooler all day long. Neil caught two fish and Lindy and Cathy each caught three.
“The women win!” Lindy said doing a little dance on the pier.
“Winners get to clean the fish,” Neil said laughing.
Lindy frowned prettily.
“Just kidding!” Neil said grabbing her into a bear hug. Cathy couldn’t help but be envious of their easy relationship. She missed being in a relationship and all of its perks—someone to talk to, someone to eat with, someone to sleep with, and especially someone to have sex with. She realized she was lonely and admitted to herself that she missed Aaron. Even if he was a cheater, she missed him and the life they were planning together.
“Cathy, can we cook the fish at your house tonight?” Lindy said. “Or are you sick of us already.”
“I’m not sick of you! Let’s get going.”
Neil cleaned the fish behind the house while Cathy and Lindy prepared the pan for frying the fish and another for hushpuppies.
“Neil said you had a broken engagement,” Lindy said as she stirred the batter for the hushpuppies.
Cathy was a little taken aback at Lindy’s directness, but she shook it off.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Lindy said. “I just thought you might want to talk about it. I wouldn’t tell a soul, except for Neil, of course. I tell him everything.”
Obsessed With You Page 4