Don't Explain

by Audrey Dacey

  Caitlyn lay in her sleigh bed surrounded by comfort, but she remained uncomfortable. Why would anyone come into her house without her permission? Obviously if she didn't answer the door, she didn't want to be disturbed.

  Alexis silently slid next to Caitlyn and hugged her. “Are you okay?”

  Caitlyn scoffed at her. “Why did you let him in here?” Caitlyn did not want to pick a fight with her friend, but she could not help but feel the bitterness pulsing through her.

  “I didn't let him do anything. I forgot to lock the door last night. He just took it upon himself to burst in here.” Alexis squeezed her tighter.

  Caitlyn wanted to yell at her for not locking the door, but she was pretty bad about doing that herself. “It's alright. I doubt the lock would have stopped him anyway.” A small smile crept across Alexis's face.

  “She’s not as adorable as you said she was,” Alexis said.

  Caitlyn scoffed. “She looked even better than she did last night. She has beautiful tousled curls. My hair doesn’t do that. Not if I put in a bottle of hair spray. And I have never had a pair of jeans that fit me that well.”

  “She’s not that pretty. You’ve got a lot on her.”

  “Like what?”

  “Freckles.”

  “Freckles didn’t convince him to stay.”

  “What happened? When I kick his ass, I would like to know the whole story so I can make him pay for all of his sins.”

  Caitlyn could feel the tears pushing at the backs of her eyes again. “She’s pregnant.”

  Alexis’s mouth fell open. “Shut up.”

  Caitlyn just nodded in confirmation.

  “Well, you can console yourself in the fact that those jeans won’t fit her for that much longer.”

  Caitlyn accidently let out a quick laugh in between sobs. She looked at Alexis and thanked her with her eyes.

  “Are you going to open the café this morning?”

  “I think I’ll take the day off. I just want to stay in bed. Everyone was entitled to a sick day every once and a while, and today I’m taking one. My other customer will be angry, but he or she will get over it.”

  Her head was pounding from drinking too much wine the night before; her eyes were red and the lids were swollen. She had a sore throat from screaming and crying. These were symptoms enough to prevent her from going anywhere today.

  “I can run the place for you. I watch you do it every day. How hard could it be?”

  Caitlyn waved away the idea, “One day won’t matter much in the long run.” She looked up at Alexis with her streaky face and whispered through the knot in her throat, “Do you know what would make me feel better?”

  “What's that?”

  “Blueberry pancakes from Madeline's.” Caitlyn knew that Alexis wouldn't mind that she was using her to get pancakes.

  Alexis gave a quick chuckle, “Alright. I'll be back in little bit. You want anything else?”

  “No.”

  Alexis pulled herself up from the bed. “Go back to sleep. If you're not going into work you might as well enjoy sleeping in.” Then she sauntered out of the room.

  Caitlyn tossed and turned for about ten minutes before she sat straight up and pounded her fists in frustration at being woken up and now not being able to go back to sleep. She grumpily got out of bed, and while whispering curses under her breath, stuffed her arms into her robe. She stomped into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  The steam rose from the spout, and Caitlyn watched it carelessly dissipate into her kitchen. She stood there chewing her thumbnail and tapping her foot nervously. The sadness lingered, but she was now furious, too. It was unbelievable the way Michael had sprung this on her and more so that he thought it would be a good idea to bring Margaret to her home the morning after. She felt betrayed.

  Finally, her patience having worn thin, she picked up the phone and called Michael. He answered the phone with a very cautious “hello.” This Caitlyn took as an opportunity to lay into him with all of the fury that had building with the boiling water. “Are you kidding me?” she started. “Did you leave your mind in Sacramento?”

  Michael began to defend himself but Caitlyn wouldn’t let him finish. “You came here to be with me, and your ex shows up. So, sorry, Caitlyn, got to go. Why didn't you just talk to her while you were packing your stuff? It would have been less painful if you found out back in California and then ignored my messages and never contacted me again.”

  It would have been very painful, probably just as painful, but she could not imagine hurting any worse than she did right then.

  “Caitlyn, I don't want to hurt you.”

  “Shut the hell up. What did you think was going to happen when you showed up with her this morning? That I would be relieved? Oh, good she's here; the pain is all gone. Don’t explain yourself to me. I don’t want to hear it.” It was hard for Caitlyn not to default to sarcasm. It was the only defense mechanism she really had and without it and the screaming, she would be in tears again. The tea kettle whistled, cheerfully announcing that it had completed its task, and Caitlyn removed it immediately, ready to pounce on and kill anything that seemed jovial. If Santa Claus had shown up at her door, she probably would have punched him in the face.

  “Can we talk in person?” he asked. Then he lowered his voice and said, “We'll be alone. I promise.”

  “Not a chance.” Before he could make a reasonable protest, she added, “I am in love with you, Michael. I had made plans, real plans, for my life, based on you moving here to be with me. But I guess less than week's re-acquaintance and great sex really isn't enough.” Caitlyn had screamed the words “great sex” in hopes that Margaret was nearby and could overhear her. “I want you to stay away. Don't call. Don't come by my house or the café. If I'm ever ready to see you again, and I don't know if that will ever happen, I'll call you.”

  “Caitlyn, you have to understand that this wasn't my intention. My intention until last night was to be with you.”

  “The road to fuck-off-and-die is paved with good intentions.” She hung up the phone.

  Caitlyn took a deep breath, and before she could let it all out, the phone rang. She picked it up without looking at the caller ID. “Seriously? I didn’t make my point clear enough?”

  “Caitlyn?” asked a gruff voice.

  “Oh geez, Ma. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  “I should hope so. Why aren’t you at work? Is everything okay?”

  Caitlyn sat down on her couch, “How did you know I wasn’t at work?”

  “Pat Stevenson drove by and said it was all closed up. Did you give up? Are you over this silly coffee shop phase?”

  “I’m just taking the day off.”

  “When do you think you will give up?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, when you do, you should move back here since you won’t have a job.”

  “You know what, Ma? I don’t know how much longer I will like this town. I just might prefer Worcester.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Caitlyn smiled. Her tragedy was her mother’s triumph.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Have you seen this?” Alexis flew through the front door of the coffee shop.

  “Seen what?” Caitlyn closed the door and locked it. This was her second day back from work since Michael left, and she was still drained. She still had ten minutes before she opened, and though the risk wasn’t high, she didn’t want anyone walking in before she was ready.

  “This morning’s paper,” Alexis said as she sat down at the closest table and began rustling through the pages.

  Caitlyn moved to another table and pulled the chairs down. “I haven’t had time. I figured that I would after I opened. Why? Did something happen?”

  Alexis folded back a page and brought it over to Caitlyn. “You could say that. There’s a review of your shop in here.”

  Caitlyn shoved the paper back at Alexis. “It’s bad, isn’t it? I don’t want to see it if it
’s bad. I can’t handle that right now.”

  Alexis sighed, smoothing the page out. “I’ll read it to you.

  ‘Small towns are just that—small. Often this means that the citizens of such towns fail to have the small luxuries that make living in a larger town or city bearable, namely coffee.

  ‘This is not true for Maple Field. They are blessed with one of the best coffee shops in New England, and my late nights and early mornings have given me intimate experiences with the coffee of the northeast.

  ‘Fine and Mellow has premier coffee beans and teas that can be mixed into a variety of beverages that will get your motor running for a reasonable price. The shop is run by the one owner, Caitlyn Murphy, a former high school teacher. On top of coffee, Murphy offers delectable pastries, which she bakes daily in house.

  ‘And while it’s sad for the children to lose a teacher, it’s happy for the adults to gain a barista who knows what she is doing.

  ‘The atmosphere in its simplest form rivals big chains but is low key and strangely quiet. The jazz greats can be enjoyed over the sound system, and while the building looks like the one-room schoolhouse it once was, the former teacher doesn’t threaten homework, just a great cup of coffee.

  ‘The best kept secret in Maple Field is too well kept. The shop was deserted when I was there, but I’d guess once you try it, you’ll be hooked. So, if you find yourself on the 68, take a pit stop at Fine and Mellow. You won’t regret it.’

  “The rest is just location information, hours, and stuff.”

  Caitlyn closed her mouth, which she realized had been hanging open. “Did you do that?”

  “Did I do what?” Alexis asked as she handed Caitlyn the paper.

  “Did you write that or sleep with the guy who did?”

  Alexis sat back down. “You know that I didn’t write it, and while you might not think it matters, the writer is a woman.”

  Caitlyn read through the article herself. “What the hell? Why didn’t you read me the part where I am giving away free stuff?”

  “You didn’t say that?”

  “No. I can’t afford that.” Caitlyn went behind the partition and turned off the timer that was calling for her.

  “You can’t afford not to. If it works, at least you’ll be making a little money. It’s only for a week.”

  Caitlyn pulled the muffin pans out of the large oven. Alexis was right. She had to do something, or she’d be closing the doors and living with her mother in a couple of weeks.

  “Well, it’s not like I can take it back. Hopefully the writer is right, and those who try it will be addicted.”

  “I am,” Alexis said.

  The town hall clock chimed, and Caitlyn walked over to the door to unlock it. Almost immediately, two old ladies that Caitlyn recognized as Mary Mueller and Elizabeth Wheatley burst through the doors.

  “Hello, Caitlyn. What a cute little shop you have here. I can’t believe this is my first time here.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Mueller,” Caitlyn said, walking behind the counter. “Can I get you something today?”

  “Elizabeth read you have some sort of deal going on.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The bell over the door rang, and the Romanos walked in. “Good morning,” Caitlyn called to them and then turned back to Mary and Elizabeth. “Buy one and the second is free.”

  “On anything?” Mary narrowed her eyes at Caitlyn.

  “I guess so.”

  Both women looked up at the chalkboard on the partition wall, and hummed to themselves.

  Alexis came up beside Caitlyn and whispered, “Two more cars just pulled in.” She smiled at Caitlyn. “I’m here if you need help.”

  #

  Two weeks had passed since Margaret had shown up at Caitlyn's doorstep. Despite her request to be left alone, Michael had tried to call Caitlyn several times, and he came to her house a couple of times only to get the door slammed in his face. She wouldn't talk to him at all, and her pit bull of a best friend made sure that Michael kept his distance. It seemed to him that Alexis had moved in with Caitlyn and was following her around like a bodyguard. Her calls were screened and her door was answered by Alexis.

  He tried her at the coffee shop a couple of times, but Alexis ran up to him as he entered, asking what he wanted. When he said that he just wanted to talk to Caitlyn, she promptly kicked him out reminding him that this was a business. The second time he told her that he wanted a coffee, and she took his order and money at the front door, served him there, and then kicked him out.

  Michael stood in the empty space that would soon become his offices. They were right in the center of town in a small log-cabin style building. When he decided that he would be willing to move here to be with Caitlyn, he did some research. He quickly realized that the Maple Field was going to be a great place to open a general practice. There were several other doctors in town, but many were approaching retirement age.

  He looked at the beige walls and blue industrial carpeting. He had imagined that Caitlyn would be standing here next to him instead of some decorator, imagining the décor and furniture arrangement. In college, Caitlyn's room was the talk of the dorm. It was by far the best laid out room and had the best style; she had turned a small, dark, dank room into a bright, welcoming space. After meeting her roommate for the first time, he knew that Caitlyn was the one that was responsible. It was again confirmed when he saw what she had done with the schoolhouse.

  He clenched his fist to try and get rid of the feeling of her hand in his. He tuned back in to what the decorator was saying about wall hangings and couches. He blindly agreed to everything she suggested for the lobby, and they moved to the room that would be his office. Based on her adequate portfolio, whatever she chose would be good enough.

  Michael sat in a folding chair that the decorator had placed in the room and thought about Margaret. He wanted to think good things about Margaret, but he still blamed her for crushing his dream of a life with Caitlyn. He knew that the notion was insane; it took two people to make a baby, and it wasn't that long ago that he was a willing participant in sex with Margaret. Recently, he could not even think of having sex with Margaret. She had tried to seduce him. She ran her fingers up and down his arm to signal that she was in the mood, and he tried to arouse himself. He always failed and just ignored her. When he did not respond to her touches, she became more aggressive. She would thrust her hand down his pants and fondle him, but it was not effective. It was like a cold shower, and he would pop out of bed and sit in a locked bathroom to avoid her.

  Michael did not think it was fair for him to have sex with her when he could still feel Caitlyn's skin against his, smell her hair, and imagine her naked body. His mind recognized that he had a commitment to Margaret, but his body and heart were committed to Caitlyn. Margaret would have to wait, at least a little while longer, to have him again.

  Michael tapped his foot impatiently. He wanted this meeting to be over. His days had become a series of meetings: the consequence of moving across the country with the intention of starting a business. The next meeting was finally to close on the house. He was lucky that the owners of the house that Caitlyn had chosen were amiable people who wanted to sell the house as quickly as possible. They had already moved to Connecticut, so the process was more efficient than it would have been if they were still in the house.

  He was ready to get out of the motel. The close proximity to Margaret all the time was straining the patience he had with her, and she wasn’t doing anything but being her sweet self. He always strived to be a good guy, but it was difficult to paint a smile on his face and pretend like everything was hunky-dory when he wished that she wasn’t there and that she wasn’t carrying his baby. And, while he hated meetings, he was glad to get away from her.

  The downside to moving out of the motel was that he was moving into the house that he thought was going to be eventually sharing with Caitlyn. He had let Caitlyn choose the house, and he considered it theirs. He imagined having her in
every room. On the floor. On the counters. In the shower. Even on the deck. He wanted to see her climax in the moonlight. It was difficult to walk into the house and not fantasize.

  He decided not to include Margaret in the paperwork for the house for this reason. Before three weeks ago, he would have considered Margaret to be one of the most dependable people he knew, but then she just picked up and left without talking to him. And while he wished that she didn’t have to be in his life, there was a baby to think about, one that he already loved, and he feared that the fickle Margaret would arise again. That one day he would come home and his baby would be gone. That's why he decided that they should still get married. She readily accepted and told him that it was a major step in their reconciliation. And she was eager to reconcile.

  Margaret tried hard to get him to forgive her. Michael would wake up in the morning to a hot breakfast that she ran out and got from the local diner or bakery. While he was gone during the day she would clean up the motel and go to the laundromat to wash his clothes. She watched basketball with him, even though he knew she hated it. It was all sweet, but for some reason, it was driving Michael insane.

  While she tried to be sly about all of the nice things she was doing for him, she was fervently trying to get him into bed. She told him that she forgave him for sleeping with another woman: he had every right to because for that time they were not a couple. But she also argued that they needed to be intimate in order to restore their relationship and to remember what it was like to love each other the way they used to.

  Margaret had offered to try and get a job, but Michael didn’t see a reason for that. He had saved up quite a bit of money to start up his practice, and med school was paid for by scholarship, so he didn't have any debt. So, she was looking into finding another volunteering job, maybe at a hospital or an afterschool tutoring center.

  The decorator snapped Michael out of his reverie by handing him a clipboard with a contract. He initialed and signed in all the appropriate places, even after hesitating briefly on the final price. It was worth it. This was a task with which he was not comfortable. He wanted Margaret to do the decorating. At least she would get out of that musty room. But she refused. She was too afraid of screwing it up. She claimed that working with kids was her forte, not decorating, and she’d hate to drive his business away because she didn’t know a cranberry from a red. It was probably for the best anyway. She would have to double check with him on everything to make sure it was just perfect, and he’d rather just have it done with as little inconvenience to him as possible.