Don't Explain

by Audrey Dacey

  “You call about nothing and then just hang up. I didn’t think I raised such a rude child.”

  Caitlyn knew she was just trying to provoke her. “Bye, Ma.” She shoved the phone back into her purse and looked at the bright lights shining through the window. She had the impulse to run behind the partition to the back of the kitchen and hide, ignoring the knocks beckoning her. But it was too late to back out, and she had to present the façade of the gorgeous, strong woman she thought she wasn't.

  #

  De Luca's was a small, family-owned restaurant in the next town over. It was about ten minutes from the coffee shop. The only sounds during the car ride were the barely audible music and the low purr of the engine. The Jaguar was filled with anxious energy. It was awkward for Caitlyn to be around Michael after a total of ten years apart. While she had hoped everything would just click back to a feeling of normalcy, the car ride proved that it would not be that simple.

  Caitlyn studied Michael as he maneuvered the curvy, narrow roadway. The same blue sweater lit up his eyes, but now a white oxford peeked out of the collar. Black slacks completed his casual, yet formal, look.

  She could see that Michael was clenching his teeth, which accentuated his strong, rigid jaw line. She wondered why he was tense. He probably didn't actually want to be here but was doing it out of a sense of duty. He had always pitied her, and that was why he had hung around in college but was quick to cut ties with her as soon as he could justify it. In the end, that’s why she couldn’t actually love him or be with him. She couldn’t have been sure if he was just with her because he thought she end up some old cat lady if left to her own devices. Minus the cats. She hated cats, and he knew it.

  Caitlyn wanted to end this charade, go back to her small cottage, and crawl into bed early. A lack of courage to break the silence stopped her. She instead turned to the window and peered out into the night.

  The trees were backlit by the moon, creating tall, rigid silhouettes. Its bright rays and the headlights gave the only light on the nearly abandoned street. She could feel the cool night air through a small draft in the window, and this sensation helped to calm her nerves a little.

  Caitlyn silently prayed that she would not allow her lurid thoughts of him to surface as they had this morning and throughout the day, but just thinking of suppressing these thoughts sent a shiver through her body. She was only left with the hope that the night would end quickly. Every glimpse of him reminded her of the feelings she once had, and his scent from across the car made her lightheaded.

  Michael pulled into the parking lot of De Luca's. The engine diminuendoed from a low rumble to silence as Michael slid out of the car. Caitlyn opened her door and started to lift herself from the seat, but Michael rushed over and offered his hand to help her out of the passenger's side. She smoothed out her black dress coat, restored any hairs that had escaped from their rightful place, and drifted toward the door. Just as she was about to open it, Michael glided past her and grabbed the door handle. He looked down at her and pleadingly, but kindly, whispered, “Allow me to be a gentleman tonight, please.” She quivered imperceptibly and then moved quickly in to the foyer.

  The delectable scent of fresh herbs and baking bread filled the small restaurant; the room was warm from the wood-fire ovens crackling in the kitchen. A small, wide-eyed woman greeted them at the door. Her dark hair was pulled up into a twist revealing a few grey strands. “Welcome. Do you have a reservation this evening?”

  “Yes,” replied Michael, his voice trailing after the first word and then abruptly finishing with, “under Fitzgerald.”

  “Ah, yes. Here you are. We have a beautiful table for you. May I take your jackets?” Caitlyn hummed affirmatively and began unbuttoning her coat as she looked around. All of the ten or so tables seemed quite similar, and she wondered what made one table more beautiful than the next.

  The woman moved herself behind Caitlyn to help her slip the jacket off her bare shoulders, revealing a sleeveless black dress that embraced her natural curves and then softly flared out from her waist to her knees. A necklace of onyx beads of various sizes encircled her neck twice.

  She turned to Michael who was staring at her indiscreetly. She smiled at him with a hint of uneasiness. He smiled back humbly without removing his eyes from her freckled skin. She was happy to be noticed at least for a moment, but the moment was interrupted by the small woman who asked them, with menus in hand, to follow her lead.

  Caitlyn followed obediently as the woman sauntered through the labyrinth of small tables scattered mindfully around the room. The table chosen for them was next to a window that, in the daytime, would have had a spectacular view of a lake, but at night all that was visible were a few ripples of water beneath the luminance of the moon and the lights of cottages spread around the shore. A small, round, black lantern illuminated the perfectly placed silverware and smoothed tablecloth, and, next to it, a small vase of pink and orange flowers sat forlornly near the wall. The lights were dim, making it difficult to see anyone except one's dining companion. This intimidated Caitlyn immensely. She reached for her water; she figured if she had something in her mouth it would be difficult to say something she would later regret. With her other hand, she took a loose strand of her hair and twisted it tightly around her finger until the fingertip turned bright red and tingled.

  When Caitlyn realized what she was doing, she imagined that she looked childish, so she moved her hands to her thighs and rolled the hem of her dress in her fingertips. She tried to pass the time and avoid noticing the uncomfortable peace.

  Eventually she couldn't stand to avoid looking at him, and she held the menu up, hiding herself from his gaze and allowing herself to relax a little bit. She thought back to college and how she revealed almost everything to him. How by now they would have been laughing so hard that she would have had flush cheeks and wide eyes for disturbing the entire restaurant. She peeked over the top of the menu and noticed that Michael was also staring intently at the offerings. When the waiter came over to take their order, neither party had any idea of what was on the menu, much less what they wanted to eat. Caitlyn had been so anxious thinking about what to say that she hadn't even considered reading the pages before her. They fumbled out a few uhms and ahhs, but after a moment's glance, Michael placed an order of calamari with the seemingly patient waiter and then asked for a bit more time.

  Both immediately set to work to find something to order for the waiter's next round, and both set their menus down too soon. Caitlyn searched for something to say, but Michael interrupted her indecision by initiating the small talk.

  “So, tell me now…why open a coffee shop?”

  She warily set down her water, which she had again picked up as a distraction. “Last spring I was at my desk with a large stack of freshman composition papers in front of me, and I realized that I hated my job. I hated it and had at least twenty-five more years before I could retire. My degree doesn’t qualify me for anything else, and I felt trapped.

  “So, I pushed the papers aside, pulled out a notebook, and made a list of all the things that I love to try to show myself the good things in life. The list was coffee, tea, jazz, and gossiping in the teacher’s lounge. That was the whole list. Pathetic, right?” She didn’t want to know the answer so she kept talking.

  “Well, after examining these items closely, I decided that if I loved those things I would love owning a coffee shop in my small town. It was farfetched, but I briefly looked at some properties, which is when I found the schoolhouse. It was perfect and cheap. Before I could stop myself, I passed on my contract for the next school year, wrote up a business plan, blew my savings on the real estate, and spent my summer fixing the place up. So, now I own a coffee shop.”

  She spoke quickly, and she realized that she had mostly rambled through her statement, never once looking directly across the table.

  “That's great,” he said, attempting a smile.

  She forced herself to quit the rambling
and answered briefly. “It certainly could be better.”

  This was painful for her. She would almost rather be at a bar with Alexis.

  She glanced around hoping the waiter would come back over and stall the awkwardness. There was a persistent speechlessness that both attempted to fight against; both were losing. Caitlyn searched her mind desperately for interesting talking points, but what came out was, “How's the medical field?”

  “Good. I have been trying to open my own practice, but it just hasn't happened yet. I am currently working at a hospital.” His answer was flat and called for no additional response. It didn’t sound like the Michael she knew. The go-getter.

  The waiter came over and took their order, and Caitlyn let out a quiet sigh of relief. He didn't stay very long, and they sat silently until after the wine was poured.

  Finally, Caitlyn came up with a question that she thought would spark good conversation, and she asked, “So is there a reason that you decided you needed a vacation or were you just worn out?”

  “Worn out,” he looked up and into her eyes. “Oh, and my fiancée left me,” he stated bluntly.

  Sympathy embraced her. “You must be devastated.”

  “Ah, well you know me.” He looked down. Caitlyn knew she that she had hit a nerve and regretted her attempt at innocent conversation. “I had to get out of town to keep my mind off of it. Maybe if I’m gone long enough, maybe I can avoid it all together. If she gets her stuff out of my house while I’m gone, it’ll be like our relationship never happened.” His jaw became tight.

  For the rest of the meal, they only occasionally commented on the various courses and their flavors. Caitlyn couldn’t think of anything else to say without bringing up sensitive topics.

  After the waiter cleared the plates, Michael asked, “I know that you’re probably sick of coffee, but do you want to share a tiramisu?”

  Caitlyn raised her gaze to his, her eyes smiling, “Sure.”

  The dessert lightened the mood, and Caitlyn began relaxing. It was almost like a weight had been lifted off her aching chest.

  A few bites in Michael asked, “So who’s that girl that was in your coffee shop after closing?” Caitlyn gripped her fork tightly. The weight returned. This always happened. Alexis always got noticed, and she was always ignored.

  “That’s my best friend. Want her number?” Caitlyn clenched her teeth and held her breath.

  “No. I just want to know about your life.” He smiled and took a bite before leaning back in his chair.

  “Her name is Alexis. She’s a flirt, a writer, and has a boat load of money.”

  “How’d you meet?” Caitlyn took a deep breath and felt the tension leave her shoulders. This was the Michael she remembered. She looked into his blue eyes and smiled.

  “About four years after I moved to Maple Field, Alexis built a house a few lots down from me. Around that time I joined a co-ed flag football team to relieve some stress and to try and be a little friendlier with the neighbors. I normally avoid stuff like that because I’m pretty much the only unmarried person over twenty-five or under sixty-five in town. But I had one of those kicks where I felt like I had to go out and be nice and make friends.”

  Michael leaned toward her, resting his elbows on the table. “I remember that about you. Remember when you made cookies for the whole dorm?”

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “All I remember is setting off the fire alarms, and you standing in the street in just a towel.” She would never live that day down.

  “Anyway,” she narrowed her eyes at him to show she was serious about dropping that subject. “During the first game I was passed the ball, but before I could turn to run down field, Alexis shoved me in the back, and I fell to my hands and knees.”

  Michael gave a short chuckle, but didn’t say anything.

  “I was furious, and screamed at Alexis, ‘We’re on the same team!’ Then I may have said a few other things that weren’t very nice. We were both kicked out of the game.

  “I started to walk back to my car, covered in mud, when Alexis came up to me apologizing. Apparently the only thing she had learned from watching the Patriots play was that you tackle the person with the ball.”

  Michael laughed. “You really know how to choose friends. Do you remember the day we met?”

  “I doubt I’ll ever forget a half-naked man showing up at my dorm room asking for dish soap.” Caitlyn leaned back and crossed her arms under her breasts.

  “It was laundry day. That’s all.”

  “You were doing dishes without a shirt on. I like you, but you’re weird.”

  Michael threw his hands up, feigning offense. “I didn’t want to get my shirt wet. I highly recommend the method.”

  Caitlyn laughed at him. They were finally returning to a sense of normalcy, and she stopped worrying about saying the wrong thing and focused on the moment before her. She was suddenly in no rush for the evening to end.

  They were still laughing when Michael opened the car door for her. Michael drove, following Caitlyn's directions, to her cottage.

  For a few moments, they sat there silently and looked into the darkness ahead. Caitlyn glanced over at Michael. His jaw had become tight again, and his eyes were fixed on the road. She looked out the passenger-side window and twirled the hem of her dress in her fingers.

  “Seven months ago I met Margaret.” His tone had become somber, and the mood quickly followed his lead.

  Caitlyn didn't know what to say, so she kept quiet while Michael collected his thoughts.

  “My sister came to visit me. I was working, so she came to the hospital to meet me. I was in the ER, and she went to the front desk to have them page me. But the volunteer at the front desk didn’t know sign language and couldn’t understand her, so there was a huge to-do. I don’t know much about it, but I know Sarah was angry. Anyway, a volunteer in the children’s hospital came by and translated for her and got them to page me.

  “When I came out my sister was signing and laughing with Margaret, and we all went together to dinner. That’s how I met her.”

  Michael’s sister was very important to him, and though she lived in Chicago, they were very close. She came to visit Michael a couple of times after they moved out of the dorms and into the apartment complex just off campus. Caitlyn liked his sister, but it was difficult for her to become involved in the conversation. Both were signing so quickly that she couldn’t keep up. Michael taught her a few things, but it didn’t get her far in the conversation.

  Caitlyn suddenly felt guilty for being so hard on him that afternoon; he didn’t leave because he didn’t want to see her. He left because he didn’t want to deal with this. Michael told her a lot about himself in college, but he didn’t like to share what he was feeling.

  His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel tightly. She tried to find some comforting words, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “She’d been volunteering there longer than I had been working there, and I didn’t know she existed,” he continued. “It’s weird how that happens. We hung out a couple of times after my sister left but only casually—lunches, movies, stuff like that. I wasn’t really attracted to her, but I remember the moment that I fell in love with her.

  “We were going to go to this street fair one Saturday afternoon. She was volunteering, so I told her I’d pick her up at the hospital at the end of her shift. I got there a little early, and she was putting on a puppet show for the kids. These really sick kids with problems that you wouldn’t wish on anyone. And they were laughing hysterically like they didn’t have a care in the world because of her stupid puppet show.

  “That was when our relationship began. That’s when I fell in love with her.”

  Margaret had found a way into Michael’s heart just by being herself. Something Caitlyn couldn’t accomplish in four years of trying.

  “Margaret and I dated for four months, and we got in a rhythm. I was comfortable with her, so I asked her to marry me,” h
e paused. “She said yes; and now, a month later, she’s gone.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  Caitlyn saw him shaking slightly, and he let out a deep, audible breath. She scooted close to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She gently grazed his shoulders with her open hand to comfort him. Then she whispered, “There has to be a reason, and I don't think that reason could have anything to do with you. Don't let her get to you. If I had you, I would never let you go.”

  She dropped her head down and forcefully closed her eyes, cursing herself and knowing that she shouldn't have said anything. If this was her version of comfort, she needed to keep her mouth shut. She should have just let him be angry for the moment. Sometimes he just needed a moment to release his anger. She looked back up at him.

  He turned to her, looking through the darkness and caught her shimmering eyes with his, and a smirk spread across his lips. “If you had me, huh?”

  “Hypothetically,” she paused, but then continued rapidly and without forethought. “In college I was in love with you. From that first moment you walked in without a shirt on, I wanted to be with you. But you were always dating someone or just broken up, so I never found the right moment to—you know.” Sweet Jesus, she thought, what was her problem? She could be a perfectly reasonable person when he wasn’t around. Why’d she have to word vomit her dirty laundry all over him after all this time? How could she just spill her secret when she kept it for four years of being around him every day?

  The smirk disappeared. Michael tried to say something but couldn’t manage to form any words.

  She placed her hand on his tense shoulder. “If I had roped you in then, I wouldn't have let you go. I knew you pretty well for four years, and that’s enough to know that this woman was a lunatic to walk away from you.”

  Caitlyn was considerably embarrassed by her confession, but at this point, she might as well accept it.

  Michael remained silent.

  “Take a right at the mailbox.” She pointed as she slinked back to her side of the car.