Don't Explain

by Audrey Dacey

  You idiot. Why would he stay here after a dinner, a hike, shopping, and some sex? It didn't feel like just some sex. It felt intimate, comfortable, perfect. It felt like they had been doing it for years and would be doing it for years. It made her world stop. It made her irrational. It made her want him to stay forever. But why would he stay for her? She had nothing to offer him that was worth changing his life.

  Soon the smell of burnt hair awoke her from the daydream, and the hot pain pounded through her arm. The only reaction she had was the same faint “oh” she had when Michael told her he was leaving. She pulled her arm off the metal slowly.

  When she warmed the milk with the steamer, foam began forming at the top of the tin without her noticing, and some bubbled over the edge and ran down her arm. She mixed the liquids and carefully sculpted the froth on top. The woman paid with exact change, and Caitlyn stood there with the money in her hand for a long minute, wishing the woman would come back for something else or another person would come in and try to distract her for a little longer. No one did, and she was left unable to hold back her emotions any longer. It felt like her chest had split into two and hurt too bad to ignore any longer. Tears crept down her face. She pulled in her breath to try and stop them, wiped her face with the back of her hand, but it was no use. They kept falling from her eyes.

  Through a haze of tears Caitlyn looked over at Michael who was watching her with an intensity that made her even less at ease. She wished he would just go away. She didn’t want to have this break down in front of him.

  She rubbed her forearm lightly and looked at the large burgundy spot where cream should be. He stood up and crossed the room looking at her with assessing eyes as he walked.

  “Did you burn yourself?” he chided.

  “No… no. It's nothing,” she softly said in a monotonous tone, moving her arm behind her back.

  “It doesn't look good. Let me see.” He held out his hand, and she reluctantly placed her arm in it.

  “When are you leaving?” she asked.

  “I was thinking on Wednesday morning.” Her heart dropped. Would he expect her to keep sleeping with him? Could she do that knowing he was leaving? “For now, I need to look at this.” He tenderly rotated her arm in his hands and began examining it. “I think we should take you to a doctor. This needs to be taken care of.”

  “I have to work right now. We'll see when I am done.” She pulled her arm out of his hand and held it against her stomach.

  “Then I will have to fix you up here. Run your arm under cool water. I'll be back in a few minutes.” He turned and left.

  The soft sound of Louis's forlorn trumpet buzzed from the speakers overhead, and Caitlyn began to hum the sad tune to herself. She sat on the small stool that was behind the counter, put her arm under the cool tap water, and cried. She allowed herself to feel the pain of a broken heart for just a moment before she pulled herself together. Whether she meant to or not, she had fallen for Michael Fitzgerald again, and though it wasn’t for as long this time, it hurt more. A lot more.

  Forcefully, she wiped the salty residue from her face and began cleaning herself up. She was not this whining, sobbing creature, and it was time that she pull herself together. This was a mistake, she rationalized, one from which she could learn.

  #

  Michael rushed into the shop about ten minutes after he left and found Caitlyn playing checkers and laughing with an old man. Caitlyn fidgeted with the white washcloth that draped over her burn but didn't seem to notice that she was doing so. Michael wondered about this rapid change of mood but ignored it because he was happy to see her smiling again even if it wasn’t at him. The creaking of the wood floor alerted Caitlyn to his presence, and she got up quickly.

  “I didn't hear the bell. You got back here quickly. What do you have to do to make it so that I can avoid a trip to the hospital?” She smiled, but it wasn’t genuine.

  “You were always clumsy, Murph, but this is getting a little ridiculous.” Michael smiled with one side of his mouth. At any moment, this could change again. She was like a Magic Eight Ball—give her a good shake and the outcome was unpredictable.

  Admittedly, he had given her several good shakes the last few days.

  “It's a good thing I have been around to patch you up. What are you going to do when I'm not…” his voice trailed. He’d meant it innocently, but he shook the Eight Ball again.

  “I wouldn't be getting hurt if you weren't here.” Her tone was biting, and Michael felt his stomach twist when she pointed it out.

  Motioning her to follow him behind the counter, he grabbed a chair and began setting up a small treatment area. He put a paper bag on the edge of the small sink and pulled out a pair of white latex gloves, which he snapped onto his hands moments later. He dove into the bag again and pulled out a roll of gauze, some medical tape, a cotton-tipped applicator, and some aloe vera gel. Caitlyn slowly made her way to his work space and flopped down on the stool that was now across from him. Holding out her arm, she let out a sigh of discontent and irritation. Michael took the sigh as though he was the annoyance. She had every right to feel that way. He didn’t want her to feel like he had used her to get his rocks off while getting over Margaret. He didn’t plan to hurt her; he didn’t want to hurt her at all. While for many years she had been nothing but a distant memory, he always cared about her.

  He briefly examined the skin. It was pink and a few small blisters were forming. After applying the aloe to the cotton-tipped applicator, he grazed it along the burn. Caitlyn cringed in pain and looked away from the spot. It was a little worse than a sunburn, but it would sting to the touch. He threw the applicator away and unrolled the gauze. As he was wrapping her arm loosely in the gauze, he whispered to Caitlyn, “I'm sorry.”

  Before he could continue, she interrupted him, “It was an accident. You didn't burn me. I just wasn't paying attention.” Her eyes and voice were distant. The literal meaning of her words hit him figuratively. This was an accident. He would have hurt her less if he’d gone with his gut the when he first saw her and took off. He wondered if his rationalization to come back was actually the work of his penis, and if he wasn’t the good guy he thought he was.

  He grabbed her gaze with his, “This is hard for me too, you know, but I have responsibilities. I can't just abandon ship because of one bad day there and a few great days here.” His head fell heavily, and he finished dressing her wound.

  “Thanks,” she said distantly when he had finished.

  The bell above the door rang and Caitlyn smiled and waved at the old man as he left. He used to make her smile. Now she would barely look at him.

  Michael pulled his gloves off by the fingertips and responded with a shrug. “It's my job.” He hesitated, but then said, “I think you should come back with me for a few days. Take a vacation. Stay with me for a week. I don’t want this to be the end.”

  Caitlyn shook her head, “I can’t leave right now, not when I am just getting started. I’m floundering as it is. I can’t just ditch it for a week right now and hope when I get back I have customers.”

  “I guess not.” Michael sighed. “I have to go do some stuff. Do you want to do something for dinner? I can make something, or we can go out.”

  “I guess.”

  “I'll see you when you get home then?”

  Caitlyn didn’t look at him. “I think it would be better if you stayed in the motel.”

  Michael’s chest ached, and he knew that she was going to shut down on him. “Fair enough. Can I pick you up then?”

  “Fine.” Caitlyn sat staring hopelessly at the door, and Michael turned to leave. The coffee shop was empty, and it was only noon. But as he stepped on out into the parking lot, she closed the door and clicked the deadbolt into place. He watched as she closed the blinds, closing him out completely. He had no idea how he was going to make this right, if that was even possible.

  CHAPTER 8

  The day had passed and Caitlyn successfully dodged
all of Michael's attempts to contact her. At first she thought that she could get over it, and they could continue on as before until he left, but the thought of that crushed her. Instead, she decided that she wanted to leave their momentary relationship where it was and not move forward, standstill, or recap what had happened with him. He was going to go back to Sacramento, and at this point she mostly wanted him to go back.

  Caitlyn noticed after she got home that Michael had called her cell phone and left a message. He wanted to talk to her and make sure that she understood what was really going on. Caitlyn was positive that she had clearly received his intentions, so she deleted the message without a second thought.

  That evening he came to her house, but she didn't answer the door. Instead, she locked herself in the bathroom and took a shower, partially to distract her from her thoughts and partially to keep herself from letting him in.

  After an hour long alternating hot-cold shower, she was pretty sure he was gone. So, she dried her hair, got dressed and walked three doors down to Alexis’s house. While her pride was profound, her sadness was more so, and she needed a friend. Alexis let her in immediately and poured two glasses of wine. She listened to Caitlyn fill her in on what she had missed and occasionally threw in a “that bastard” or “what an asshole” for good measure.

  Even though the tapping of Alexis’s foot and kneading of her hands told Caitlyn that she really wanted to let loose with an “I told you so,” she never passed judgment.

  Caitlyn admitted that Michael was her first love and, until recently, an undeclared love.

  “You have a right to be upset, especially since Michael knew that you’d been in love with him. It’s no wonder you’re such a prude. The only man you ever loved showed no interest in you sexually. Well, I mean until now.”

  Caitlyn didn’t really buy it. She’d had sex with other men. “It’s not that I don’t think men want me—though they’re not as forthcoming with their desire to be with me as they are with you. It’s just that I don’t really have a desire to be desired by them.”

  Alexis smacked her hand down on her breakfast bar, startling Caitlyn who nearly spit the sip of wine she had just taken on her friend. “Holy shit. You were in love with him the whole time weren’t you?”

  Caitlyn gulped down the wine in her mouth. “I hadn’t thought about him for years until he showed up.”

  Alexis shook her head vigorously, “No, it doesn’t matter. You were totally in love with him the whole time. There’s nothing else that could explain it.”

  “Explain what?” Caitlyn didn’t really want to hear Alexis’s crazy idea, but she might as well indulge her since Alexis was going to tell her anyway. Caitlyn chose not to hear most of what Alexis was saying; she was mostly there to spill her guts and be pitied.

  Alexis instead tried to reason with Caitlyn. “Why you would hang your hat on a few days and a couple of nights for your eternal happiness? Most women don’t realize that depending on a man for lasting happiness is a mistake, but you weren’t like most women. Not until the man you love showed up. Love’s a little fucker. Men are good for only a few things, and love isn’t one of them.”

  Caitlyn stopped her before Alexis went into too much detail on what she thought men were actually good for. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m done with him. He’s gone the day after tomorrow, and then I won’t even have to bother with trying to avoid him.”

  “It’s not that simple. Once you fall in love,” Alexis gagged a little at the last word, “it hurts like a bitch for a long time.”

  Caitlyn took a sip of her wine and then shrugged. “I guess you’re right. I mean look at you.”

  Alexis’s mouth fell open, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Caitlyn didn’t answer her. She knew that Alexis knew she was talking about Frank, Alexis’s ex-fiancé, who left her with a large sum of nonrefundable deposits and a broken heart two weeks before they were supposed to get married.

  Caitlyn didn’t know her at the time, but she did know that Alexis had not even considered a serious relationship since. Alexis had declared war on love, triumphing when people got divorced or broke up. Alexis was obviously toning it way down for Caitlyn.

  Frank was the easiest way to shut Alexis up.

  “It’s getting late. I better go.”

  “It’s only 8:00.”

  “I left the shop a mess and will have to go in early.” Caitlyn didn’t stay at the coffee shop for much longer after Michael left. Her usual muffin making, sweeping, and mopping went undone. She figured that she’d better leave something to wallow in other than her own self-pity.

  Both women stood, and Alexis walked over to Caitlyn and hugged her tightly. “If you need anything, call me.”

  Caitlyn gave a half-hearted smile. “I promise.”

  “Want to borrow my Taser?”

  “I’ll be alright,” she laughed. “I doubt he’ll attack me.”

  “He doesn’t have to attack you.” Alexis let go of Caitlyn and walked her to the door. “You might just want to light his ass up for fun.”

  Caitlyn walked home as quickly as she could. Her ankle was feeling much better, especially in comparison to her burn, but she was still limping a little bit. She made sure that all of her ringers were on silent before she crawled into bed, in case he should attempt to call again.

  To her surprise, and dismay, when she checked in the morning she had no missed calls on any of her lines.

  She slogged through her morning routine, feeling even more rejected than she had the previous day. She now assumed that she wasn't worth the fight. Deep down she hoped that he would call several times leaving messages pleading her to forgive him. Michael, however, was not one to plead in multiple attempts, and she knew this, but her wild fancies were not as easily swayed. She imagined that he slept on her front porch all night waiting for her to come out in the morning, but a brief inspection out her front window upon waking quickly eradicated this daydream from her mind.

  Caitlyn felt stupider and more unworthy than the college freshman ogling the young man asking her for soap. She thought that she had matured beyond these childish fantasies and accepted her fate. Recent events had taught her that, given the opportunity, the fantasies immediately began stirring again. Love or not.

  Caitlyn sighed at herself with disappointment. She slung her jacket over her shoulders and headed toward the door. The dense, chilled air filled her lungs, and her eyes began to water. She peered out into the darkness of the morning with melancholy. She noticed that her feelings seemed to warp the appearance of the things around her. A week ago she was indifferent about everything, and the world seemed indifferent to her. On this day, when she felt misery, she noticed the sagging of the trees, the sorrow in the clouds, and the bitterness in the breeze. Gloom had permeated every part of her life.

  In stopping to take in the sad stage before her, she barely noticed the white rectangle squarely placed on her door just above eye level or its rapid flapping caused by the wind. However, she could not fail to notice it when she turned to close the door and lock the deadbolt, which she did before she gently pulled down the folded note with two fingers. For a brief, passing moment, while the paper delicately danced in her hand, she considered crumbling it up in her hands, never reading the contents. But the jagged “Caitlyn” written on the front swayed her to tear it off of the door and read it immediately.

  Mon amour,

  S'il te plaît, pardonnes moi de t'avoir blesser.

  It was not my intention to hurt you. It was not my intention to do anything while I was here except escape. Fortune had a different plan, and she, against the odds, brought us together. I had forgotten what a caring and compassionate friend you are, and I was happy to learn how much more you could be.

  When we were in college, I never would have imagined that we would spend time together like we did the past few days, or that we would have sex all night. You were a friend and nothing more. But the last ten years have been good to y
ou. Your spark and confidence pulled me toward you. I couldn't and didn't want to resist. You made me forget why I came in the first place and made it seem insignificant.

  I don't want to leave you, believe me. I think that I am falling in love with you, and the more time that I spend with you the more I will be yours. I wish I could wake up every morning and breathe you in. I wish I could hold you in my arms all night every night. I wish I could make love to you in the evenings before we go to bed. I want to take care of you. What I want least, and what I fear is happening, is that you will not be in my life at all. I lost you once before, and I am not willing to let you go again.

  S'il te plaît. I know that you don't want to, but I need you to talk to me at least once more before I go. Please meet me at the Nichewaug Pond at five this evening. I'll be on the south side near the docks.

  Fitz

  Caitlyn read through the letter three times before putting it away. She had to drive the mile to Fine and Mellow because she was now running late, and though her ankle was only the slightest bit tender, she certainly couldn’t jog on it. It took her a while to justify even going to work. That was the hardest thing about being her own boss—no one really depended on her. It would be easy to give into her whims. It would be easy to run off to California for a week with Michael. The only thing stopping her was the fact that it could ruin her, but what were the chances she wasn’t already ruined? It drove her forward into the day, but she knew that there would only be one thing on her mind.