Chasing Caitlyn

by Marnie Cate

  Tears filled my eyes as I hugged Vivian. "You’re too good to me."

  "It has been a blessing having you here. You brought more life to my home than it has seen for such a long time," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Oh, I almost forgot. You will finally get to meet my baby boy. He’s flying your family here."

  "You didn't mention he was a pilot."

  "My boy has many talents, like his mother. He’s a true man of mystery. You’ll love him. We won't be having a Charlie Brown event in my home. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you bright and early to begin with the festivity planning."

  Instead of our usual evening chats by the fire, we called it an early night. Vivian had big plans of baking and prepping for our Thanksgiving feast over the next two days. Vivian had such a big heart, and she put it into everything she did. When I first moved in, she checked on me during the night, tucking the covers around me, and even adding another blanket on the really chilly evenings. She had such a sweet soul that I couldn't view her actions as weird.

  For some reason, Jeremy filled my mind tonight. It was difficult comparing him to the man I loved and the man he had become. We both had changed. I wasn't as big of a liar as he was. I was not perfect, and I shouldn't have pretended I was for so long.

  I avoided looking at his text messages, afraid of what he had said. If I was honest, I was more afraid of how I would respond. When I last checked, my lawyer said the papers had not been returned yet. Avoiding the issue seemed the best way to move on, but I needed to deal with him, one day.

  It might as well be right now. I sighed. Pulling out my phone, I slowly began to go through the messages from the beginning.

  Jeremy: WTF Caitlin. How long have you been planning this? Was San Diego part of your plan? Fuck up my life and dump me? When did you become such a bitch?

  Jeremy: You're crazy if you think you're getting a dime of my money. Tell your lawyer, I have dirt on you, too.

  Jeremy: Answer me!!!!

  The texts went on – several times – daily, threatening me and calling me every crude thing he thought of. He even sent pictures of him holding his penis, as if that would make me come running home. Flipping through the texts, I stopped on a series of them that started six days ago. These had a different tone.

  Jeremy: Babe, I am sorry. I need help. I need you. Please, Caitlyn, come home to me. I'll stop it all. NO MORE WOMEN. Only you. I'm dying inside without you.

  Jeremy: Caitlyn, answer me. Please. I love you.

  Jeremy: Fine, you bitch. I signed your papers. Don't come crawling back to me. I hope you enjoy your new life. When I’m done telling everyone what you’ve done, no one will want anything to do with you.

  Jeremy: Oh God. I didn't mean it. It was the booze. I'm a fucking mess without you. I signed the papers but you can come home, Babe. Remember our last night? Remember how fucking good we are together?

  Setting the phone down, I stared out at the night sky. How do you respond to someone who’s such a narcissist? I had been at peace. I shouldn't have read his messages. It just reopened my old wounds.

  I had been broken for so long. I always felt I had to be the perfect woman, when in reality, I was far from it.

  For the past year, I denied the fact that I once loved Jeremy. There had, at one time, been something good in him that made me want to be with him. What changed, sending us off into this spiral? How could you love someone so much, one moment, and then forget they existed, the next?

  Caitlyn: You know we’re NOT good together. There has been too much damage done by both of us. You have a family to take care of now, Jeremy. Yeah I know about Ginger. She's your chance to be a good man. Invest your energy into her and your child. She loves you even though you don't deserve her love.

  You don't have to break someone you love to keep them. I want to forget the last five years. I want to remember the Jeremy I met in San Diego. The man I fell in love with. The man who left my heart a long time ago. Goodbye, Jeremy.

  Checking my email, I smiled as I saw the confirmation I needed. The lawyer wrote, "Jeremy Whittaker has agreed to all terms of the divorce papers. The papers were filed on November 13th."

  I would be a free woman in April. California's six-month waiting period meant the divorce would be final in the spring. A perfect time for a new life to begin.

  I slept like a baby that night. This time, I didn't even wake when Vivian came in to add another blanket.

  Twenty-eight

  As promised, Vivian woke me up bright and early the next morning. "Come on, sleepyhead. We have a lot of baking to do this morning before our guests arrive. Take your time and get ready before you come down. I want everyone to see how happy and healthy you are here."

  "Or show them how you fattened me up," I contradicted.

  "Pshaw, you are still as skinny as a rail," she scolded. "Whoever got in your head needs to get out." She flittered off, calling, "Get ready, but don't dawdle, love."

  By the time I made it to the kitchen, Vivian and her housekeeper, Sofia, were mixing, rolling, and chopping.

  "Sorry, I took so long. Where do I start?" I asked.

  "Grab an apron and start coring and peeling apples," Vivian directed. "You look very pretty today, Caitlyn." Even bossing someone around, she took the time to smile brightly and throw in a compliment.

  "Thank you, Vivian." I smiled back. "You look lovely, as always."

  She was so excited about everything we were cooking and made sure to tell me how much her son loved each recipe. "With our head start on the feast, we will be able to enjoy the day tomorrow."

  I was intrigued to meet this man she spoke so highly of. I couldn't image a son of Vivian's not being as great as she described. I was surprised there were no photos around of him besides the baby pictures.

  "I can't wait. Thank you for asking my mother to join us. She hasn’t been on a trip since my father died," I said.

  "That’s so sad. She’s so full of life and has more to experience," Vivian said.

  "I can't imagine having any more life than you, Vivian." I kissed her on the cheek and stole one of the raspberries she just washed.

  "Save those for my cheesecake."

  Laughing, I chopped the pecans she insisted we needed for her crumble cake. When I finished, I wasn't sure what else to do. "The nuts are chopped. What is my next task?"

  "Bring me some more flour, brown sugar, and butter. I need more, and then the recipe will be great," she chuckled. "If we have time, I want to make a coconut cake. No holiday is complete without coconut."

  She was a whirlwind of excitement. The rich aromas of cinnamon, vanilla, and spices filled the air. It smelled like the holidays. I truly had so much to be thankful for this year. While we were working on the treats, Sofia started prepping the various salads Vivian insisted were necessary.

  "Sofia's potato salad is the best!" Vivian declared.

  "We’re going to have so much food you’ll have to roll us out of here," I said. "There’s too much food for just us."

  "I was thinking we need to bake a few more things," Vivian said seriously as she examined the overflowing countertops.

  "Really? There are only nine of us." Counting off on my fingers, I said, "Thomas, Jacob, Mom, me, you, your son, Ben, Sofia, and her husband. Am I counting wrong?" I counted again.

  "Sweetie, Thanksgiving is more than our small group. Last count we were at thirty-six," Vivian said.

  "Thirty-nine," Sofia corrected.

  "Right, thirty-nine. We might need to invite one more to make it an even number," she mumbled as she continued her investigations. "Sweet-n-sassy, I almost forgot the chocolate chip cookies. Those are Grant's favorites."

  "I can't wait to meet your son. You always say such nice things about him. I can't imagine how a son of yours would be anything, but amazing.”

  "He is pretty special. He’s a lot like his father. I think he has the best of both Jackson and me." With fervor, she began to mix chocolate chips into her cookie dough.

  While
the cookies baked, we sipped coffee and talked. Vivian told me stories about her last husband, Jackson, but I didn't take notes. This felt too special to write about. It didn't feel like it was for the world to hear. Maybe, later, she would share it again, and it would be recorded. For now, it was just a confidence between friends.

  The alarm sounded, and she removed the cookies from the oven. As we began putting them on racks to cool, a loud sound filled the air outside. It sounded like a helicopter above the house.

  "They’re here," she exclaimed. Checking her reflection in the window, she cried, "Oh my, I’m a mess. I better go change."

  Five minutes later, Vivian returned. Not only had she changed, but her hair was styled and her makeup refreshed.

  "How did you do that so fast?" I asked, not hiding my surprise.

  "The stage, darling. Remember, the show must go on and the audience must never wait." She bowed with a flourish. When she came back up, she looked at me and gasped,' "Oh my, you’re a mess."

  Peering down at myself, I was grateful I wore an apron. I was covered in all the ingredients of our baking. Taking off the smock, I said, "I’ll be fine. Thomas and Jacob have seen me in much worse condition than this."

  When we stepped outside, I found Jacob and Thomas exiting the helicopter and waving frantically. My mother walked behind them, much slower. I hadn't considered how she would do flying. She was always a nervous traveler, but seeing me, she brightened, and also frantically waved. As she grew closer, I realized she was not alone. She was walking with someone.

  I smiled brightly at the unknown guest. Unfamiliar to me until my hazel eyes met his silver. Jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt replaced the suit I last saw him wearing. My heart stopped.

  "Grant, come give your mother a hug," Vivian called. When he reached us, she said, "Caitlyn this is…"

  "Jack," I said softly.

  "Oh, that's right. I give you the beautiful name of Grant Jackson and you go by Jack." She frowned.

  "It's good to see you, too, mom." He picked up the tiny woman and wildly kissed her cheeks. After he set her down, he nodded his head at me. "It's nice to see you again, Caitlyn."

  I was stunned. No words formed.

  "Cat!" Thomas interrupted the awkward exchange. He swooped in and wrapped me in a bear hug.

  "Are you in on this deception?" I hissed.

  "Oh, Caitlyn, there is no deception." Thomas set me down and looked at me with pity in his eyes.

  "I can't believe this. Was this all a set-up? Did you plan this with him?"

  "No, that’s not what this is at all."

  "Then, what is this, Thomas? Save the poor divorcée?"

  "Don't be like that. It’s Thanksgiving," Thomas begged. "Right now, I’m just so glad to see you. I haven't seen my girl in a long time. You’re beautiful."

  I had changed since I came there. There was no need to put on a show anymore. . I wore jeans and t-shirts without feeling judged, even though the t-shirts I owned were mainly Marc Jacobs. I felt beautiful – more real, more alive.

  "There isn't much need to get dressed up here." I would rip him a new one when we were away from prying eyes.

  "Well, keep up whatever you’re doing. You look great," Thomas complimented and squeezed my hand. "Now come on, show us to our room."

  "I'll show everyone their rooms." Ben stepped in and escorted the new guests.

  Viv slipped her arms into mine, "While everyone is getting settled, can you help fix a late lunch for the new arrivals."

  I smiled and nodded. I was afraid what I would say. The anger inside me was on a slow burn waiting to release.

  With me in charge of assembling the sandwiches, Viv whisked off to check on the dining table. As I was putting the last sandwich together, I found Jack staring at me from the doorway.

  "How long have you been spying on me?" I asked coldly.

  "I just got here." He walked towards me and reached over me to pick up a radish.

  I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room as we stood impossibly close.

  "You have a little something…" He cupped my face and wiped it gently with his thumb. "Mother's chicken salad?"

  "Yeah," I said, barely above a whisper.

  "It's nice to see you looking so well, Caitlyn." Jack leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

  Heat grew inside me. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and pick up where we had left off. I could pull him into one of the spare rooms and live out the fantasies I had held for the past year. I could do many things, but I suddenly remembered he had lied to me.

  Moving away from him, I snapped, "Lunch is ready. We don't want to keep everyone waiting."

  The hurt in his eyes felt like I had ripped my heart out. Don't fall for another liar, Caitlyn. It’s good you found out now.

  While we ate our meal, I answered any questions Jack asked me, but asked none of my own. Not giving less or more than what was polite. I focused on everyone at the table, except for him unless forced to. I felt him watching me. When we were through, I began to clear the dishes. Jack tried to take one from me.

  "I got it." I jerked the plate away.

  "Grant, will you help me with this?" Vivian called, holding out a platter.

  "Sure," he said, giving me a look of disappointment.

  What did he expect from me? Was I supposed to run into his arms, crying, ‘Thank you, White Knight, for slaying the dragon’?

  He tricked me. He lied to me. Did he get me this job to save me, to protect me from myself or from Jeremy? Or was he looking for a broken girl to be the hero for – to clean up…fix?

  He was such a good man that he wouldn't even sleep with me when I threw myself at him. He was a good man. He would never want to be with someone like me. Not the liar and whore I had become.

  Exhaustion filled me and as I put the last dish in the dishwasher, Vivian came into the kitchen. "What is going on, honey? You seem upset. Are you not happy to see your family?"

  "No, I’m really happy to see them. Can I ask you a question, and will you answer me honestly?" I asked.

  "That’s the only way I know how to answer a question.”

  "Did Jack tell you to bring me here? Did he tell you about the poor, broken married woman who needed to be saved?"

  "Not at all. Jack suggested I talk to Thomas about finding a ghost writer for my book. He mentioned how great you were as his editor and that’s it. Honey, Thomas told me you were in trouble, but that’s not why I asked you to come here. I saw your work. I asked you to come because what I read was good, and you came highly recommended. I think we both came into each other's lives at the perfect time.”

  “And what about Jack?”

  “My son is a good man.”

  “Of course, you’re going to say that.”

  “Now, Caitlyn, I think you’re being a little bit irrational, and I think you should sleep on it before you say anything too hurtful.” Vivian's green eyes glistened with tears.

  “Fine, I'll go to my room. Can you tell everyone I have a headache and I am going to bed early?”

  “Why don't you take something from the cabinet for your headache? I am sorry if you feel hurt, but you have no reason to. You were brought here because you're talented.”

  “Night, Vivian.” I squeezed her hand, not wanting to continue the conversation.

  "Sweet dreams, love." She touched my cheek.

  Twenty-nine

  Locked in my suite, I turned on the water to the bathtub and began to cry. I didn’t know where the distrust and anger came from. If Jack recommended me, it was a sweet gesture. Even if his intentions were well meant, it felt too much like another man controlling me. I thought he wasn't like that. He was honorable. He was the good guy. What did he bring me up here to be? A holiday fling?

  No, Vivian was right; I had to be overreacting. You're too broken for anyone, Caitlyn. Leave Jack alone. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves way better than you. You are Christopher's leftover trash. You deserve someone like Tad.r />
  Shuddering at that thought, I dunked under the water. I held my breath, like I did as a child, staying under the water as long as I could until I had to burst out for air. I stayed in the water until the cold drove me out.

  After I dried my hair, I put on my pajamas and looked out at the dark night sky. In the distance I saw a bench, one that I had never noticed before. Something about it beckoned me. Putting on a sweater and some Uggs, I walked through the empty house. The clock on the microwave said it was after midnight.

  The cold wind blew against me as I stepped outside, and I shivered. I hadn't dressed for the weather. It is only a short distance. You’ll be fine.

  I prodded myself to keep walking. A short distance from the house, light snow began to fall. I tipped my head back and stuck out my tongue, trying to catch snowflakes, like I had seen in the movies.

  Giggling at my absurd behavior, I started walking again. It didn’t seem like it would be this far from the house. By the time I reached the white stone bench, the snow had begun to fall in heavy flakes, and the wind was howling.

  You're a damn fool, Caitlyn. You came this far to see a mysterious bench.

  I wiped away the layer of snow covering the bench. Inspecting it, I saw engraving in the stone. Tears filled my eyes. Kneeling down, I read the words of William Shakespeare that I knew well. I had written a paper about Sonnet 116. It had always spoken to me. Softly, I began to read the words aloud:

  Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove.

  O no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks