by M. Ullrich
“You’re alive! “Alice answered on the second ring.
“Are you home?”
“No, I’m at the touch museum. I probably won’t be home for another hour. Are you okay?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Dennis can do the next round without me. I need to talk to you, too. I know Linda is back and working with your company.”
Catherine let that information sink in. This is why I shouldn’t ignore phone calls, she thought as she took her time responding.
“Have you always known?” Catherine asked.
“No, I just saw her at the benefit. I tried to call you—”
“I don’t care about that, I’m talking about college,” Catherine clarified.
“Yes,” Alice answered with a sigh.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you never told me.” Catherine could tell by Alice’s curt and quick response that she was hurt.
“I’m so sorry.” Her bottom lip started to quiver as she finished the first of many apologies she owed to Alice. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me.”
“My mom knew about Linda.” A lengthy silence followed the significant words. “She asked me why there hasn’t been anyone since.” Catherine looked back at her childhood home as she spoke. She hugged herself, and only partially because of the cold.
“Did you tell her about Imogene?”
“No, there’s nothing to tell.” Catherine whispered the bitter response.
“Will you tell me about Imogene? Please, tell me what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Catherine looked down at her pale hands. “We can’t be together.”
“Why not?” Alice asked with vehemence.
“I really fucked it up, Alice. She won’t even take my calls.”
“What in God’s name did you do?” Catherine heard a muffled commotion on the other end of the phone. “This is a museum for children, not a library!”
“Alice?”
“Sorry, some old man had the nerve to shush me. Anyway, I went to see Imogene last week and she seemed eager to hear from you again.”
“You saw her? When?” Catherine sat up straighter.
“The Tuesday after the benefit. I knew Linda was back in the picture. I hadn’t heard from you, and I was starting to worry that she had something to do with it. I went to Cowboy Fran’s hoping to find you shacked up with your new lover. She told me about your text. A text message?”
“I was busy.”
“How mad?” Alice asked, confusing Catherine with the sudden question.
“What do you mean?”
“How mad am I going to be with you once you tell me everything that has happened since we last spoke?”
Catherine considered Alice’s question carefully and decided to just get it over with.
“Imogene and I spent the night together after the benefit. I got a nine-one-one from work the next morning, so I left Imogene a little note saying we’d talk soon. I got to work, sat down, and prepared for the usual meeting. Then Linda Nguyen walked in. She’s representing our newest client, who happens to be a good friend of my boss, Walter,” Catherine told her in a rush.
“And when you sent Imogene that text, where were you?” Catherine scratched at the back of her neck, purposely tugging at a few sensitive hairs as a distraction. “Cat?”
“I was going to lunch with Linda.”
“Catherine.” She cringed. Hearing Alice say her full name was worse than having her own mother do it. “That’s disgusting.”
“I know.”
“The very next day?”
“I said I know!” Catherine defended weakly.
“Do you still love Linda?”
“No! That’s just it! I don’t feel anything for her anymore, but I got sucked right back into the idea of her.” Catherine waved her free hand emphatically. “I got lost because I was blinded by that small part of me that’s still back in college wanting a second chance with the love of my life.”
“The love of your life? Seriously? I saw what became of you after things ended. Why did things end, by the way? I’ve always wondered.”
“She promised to quit Rutgers for me, hid the fact that she was being considered for tenure, and then chose her career over our relationship.” Broken down to such a simplistic sentence, the relationship tasted bitter on Catherine’s tongue.
“You wanted another chance with that?”
“The deplorable college student in me did, yes, but when Linda kissed me, I knew it was a mistake.”
“She kissed you? Oh my God, Catherine please tell me that’s it.” Catherine remained silent. “For the sake of my respect for you, I don’t want to know any more details, just cut to the chase and tell me why Imogene won’t speak with you.”
“Imogene came to my office and found out about Linda before I had the chance to tell her.” Catherine hesitated. “She found out when Linda introduced herself.”
“That had to be ugly.” Alice’s comment made Catherine snort derisively.
“That’s not the worst of it.” Catherine swallowed harshly as vivid scenes from that night replayed in her mind. “After I kicked Linda out of my office, I called Imogene dozens of times, leaving message after message begging her to hear me out. So when I heard a knock on my door that night I was thrilled until I opened it to see Linda standing on my doorstep,” Catherine told Alice bitterly.
“Did you not tell her to take a hike?”
“I did, very clearly, but she had been drinking and was determined to spend one more night with me.”
“Cat, I’m going to have to stop you there,” Alice interjected. “I bet I can guess what happens next, but I desperately hope I’m wrong.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong.” Catherine sighed. “Imogene showed up while Linda was there. I swear, Alice, I was going to tell Imogene everything. I was going to tell her that I love her.” Catherine dropped her voice and picked at a loose string on her jacket.
“You love Imogene?”
“I do, and I have no idea when it happened.”
“You need to not only apologize for your pitiful behavior, but you also need to get her back! Grovel like you’ve never groveled and beg until you lose your voice.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes.” Alice stopped her. “You can and you will because she is the best thing that has ever happened to you. If you don’t, then you’re an idiot. And I know for a fact that you are a brilliant woman, so hang up with me and call her.”
“I told you, she’s not taking my calls.”
“If only you had a mutual contact that would be willing to help.”
“You don’t think Sophia would help, do you?”
“Good-bye, Cat.” The line went dead, and after a moment Catherine finally pulled away from the snow-covered curb.
❖
The empty wine bottle mocked Imogene from the coffee table. Earlier in the evening, it had seemed like such a good idea to spend her Saturday night with merchandise catalogs and her favorite cabernet, but her head was spinning an hour after she made that decision. Ever since seeing Catherine on Thursday, Imogene felt as though her world had been knocked off its axis. She hadn’t known her long enough for her to have such an impact on her life, but she did.
She wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love with her. But once she had gotten to know the woman hidden beneath the stony exterior, just friendship was never an option. From the moment Catherine introduced herself the second time, Imogene knew she was dangerous. She should’ve turned away, but instead she got closer to the flames and now she sat scorched. Her heart and body betrayed her and now she was left with nothing but memories and heartache.
Angry at herself for shedding more tears on Catherine’s behalf, Imogene grabbed her phone and called Sophia, much like she had every night since meeting Linda. “Fucking Linda,” Imogene muttered under her breath. She kep
t a lot of details to herself, but just hearing her best friend’s reassuring voice helped her through her lonely nights.
“Another rough night?” Sophia asked.
“Yeah. Why am I letting her get to me like this?” Imogene threw herself back onto her couch and curled up into a fetal position. Her matching green sweatpants and sweatshirt sported a few stains from red wine.
“Because you liked her, and it was bad timing. Your grandfather had just passed away.”
“Yeah,” Imogene sighed.
“I know you really don’t want to talk about it, but are you ever going to tell me exactly what happened?”
“You know the most important bits,” Imogene lied, her words slightly slurred due to the wine. She was reluctant to tell Sophia that she went into the city to see Catherine. Admitting such a thing would prove just how significant Catherine was to her, and that made Imogene feel foolish. “I spoke to my mother today.”
“Oh? And what did Dottie have to say?”
Imogene decided to indulge Sophia, she knew how much her friend enjoyed tales of Dorothy Harris. She thought back to the earlier phone call.
“Of course the first time my baby falls in love in years she has to fall for a stupid bitch!”
“Ma!”
“What? It’s true! First she strings you along as a client and then a friend, then she schmoozes you out of your panties and leaves you the morning after for an ex? She’s an idiot and clearly doesn’t deserve you. I will not have my daughter shack up with a playgirl!”
“Same shit.” The alcohol was lubricating Imogene’s lips. She rarely swore, but now she was wondering if it’d be a worthy habit to pick up.
“I beg your pardon?” Sophia laughed.
Imogene cleared her throat and put on her best Dorothy voice, her minimal Southern drawl became more pronounced. “Imogene dear, you’re too good for her. It obviously wasn’t meant to be. You’re too smart and beautiful to cry over a woman you just met.”
“She’s right.”
“This is all your fault, and Chris’s, too. If you guys hadn’t introduced us, this would’ve never happened.” Imogene spewed blame, night after night, every time they talked that week. “And then you filled my head with that fate bullshit and look where it got me! What was my role supposed to be exactly? Make sure she was ready for when her first great love returned? Fan-fucking-tastic!” The exclamation echoed in her apartment. Vixen got up and left her spot on the back of the couch. “Why did I think I had a chance?” Imogene broke down into quiet sobs and Sophia’s phone beeped.
“Sweetie? I have another call, can you hang on for a minute? I’ll be right back.” She clicked over to the other line, slightly worried that the ID showed up as private. “Hello?”
“Sophia?” The voice on the other end was deep and hoarse, but familiar.
“Yes?”
“It’s, um,” the caller hesitated, “it’s Catherine Carter.”
“Catherine.” The name slipped out as a harsh group of syllables. Sophia’s first instinct was to be rude, cut this woman down to size, but a small voice told her to listen before acting. “What do you want?” But that voice didn’t tell her she had to be nice about it.
“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to—”
“Understatement.”
“But,” Catherine continued, “I need to know. Was it Imogene all along? The car and her apartment number. The dress, her eyes—her beautiful eyes.” Catherine’s voice broke before she took an unsteady breath. “She was inevitable.”
“Imogene is really hurting. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I know I can’t apologize enough.”
“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.”
“She won’t talk to me. Not after what had happened at my office and then my apartment.”
“She went to your office?” She never told me that.
“Yes, and it was a disaster.”
Sophia finally answered Catherine’s initial question with a query of her own. “Imogene went into the city for the first time in almost fifteen years to win you over. You. The woman who had already hurt her by disappearing. Forget about colors, don’t you think that’s enough of a sign?” A long stretch of silence filled the phone before Catherine spoke again.
“Do you think Imogene would agree to see me? Tomorrow?”
Sophia smiled wickedly before telling Catherine exactly where and at what time Imogene would indeed meet her tomorrow. They hung up shortly after, and Sophia was shocked to hear that Imogene was still holding on the other line.
“I’m so sorry about that, Imogene. It was my mother, and you know how that old bird loves to chirp.”
“It’s fine. All I did was cry anyway.” Imogene’s voice was now stronger but still sounded weak with pain.
“How about we meet up for a few drinks tomorrow? My treat.” As Sophia relayed the details to her friend and ended the phone call with a menacing laugh, she felt the need to give herself a pat on the back. Maybe Imogene would get her happy, if not well resolved, ending after all. Thanks to her trusted and sneaky best friend.
Chapter Twenty-five
The late afternoon sun was setting on the last Sunday in February. Imogene double-checked the address she had scribbled down the previous night and thought Sophia’s choice of meeting place was odd. They had a tendency to frequent the same bars and restaurants and didn’t usually try something new. Imogene didn’t question her friend, though. She thought maybe it was an attempt to distract her from the pain that continued to reside in her chest. As she approached the large wooden door to the bar, she wondered whether the psychic knew the building was no more than a few blocks from Catherine’s condominium. The door swung open, nearly knocking Imogene backward.
“I’m sorry!” A middle-aged gentleman reached out to help her steady herself. “They should really have a door with windows.” He smiled brightly in Imogene’s direction as he held the door open to her.
“That’d ruin the mystery.” Tempting smells and the sound of loud chatter floated through the air, and Imogene eyed the building curiously. She had never noticed it before. “It’s my first time and it piqued my interest.” She started to make her way through the wide doorway just as the deep voice spoke once more.
“I recommend the house drink. You won’t regret it.”
Imogene appreciated the suggestion but could’ve done without the wink that accompanied it. “Thanks.” She turned away quickly and walked toward the bar. The large space was well lit and crowded. Wood surfaces and a large fire roaring in the far corner gave the space a warm homey feel. Almost every seat was taken around the bar. Imogene scanned the rest of the space in hopes of spotting Sophia before the awkward feeling of standing alone in a crowded room set in. She noticed one corner of the room glowed amber and orange, with a small square table occupied by one lonely woman.
“Catherine.” She couldn’t raise her voice above a whisper. In a panic, she looked around again for Sophia, but didn’t spot her anywhere. Imogene weighed her options. She could leave, call Sophia and tell her that she just wasn’t up for going out, or she could be a better woman than that. She’d probably run into Catherine eventually, and she couldn’t hide from her every time. She could get the hard part out of the way now while the pain was still fresh and then maybe they’d be able to have some version of a friendship down the line. With false confidence, Imogene made her way across the bar toward the small table.
As Imogene approached the table, she slowed down to evaluate Catherine’s appearance. She looked tired, disheveled, and troubled. Her hair was far from styled as it normally was. Her curls were frizzy, and her face was makeup-free, highlighting the dark circles that haunted her clouded brown eyes. She wore a wrinkled black blouse untucked from her loose-fitting jeans. Imogene scolded herself for thinking Catherine was breathtaking regardless, but she was satisfied to know that the other woman was suffering as well. She nearly gasped when Catheri
ne looked up and their eyes met.
“Imogene.” Catherine smiled brightly, and Imogene forced herself to remember why she was there in the first place.
“I’m here to meet Sophia, but I saw you sitting here and in an attempt to avoid a potentially awkward situation, I decided to say hello. So, hello.” She shifted uncomfortably and clasped her purse tighter against her side. She turned to retreat as quickly as she appeared.
“Sophia’s not coming,” Catherine blurted out like a murderer confessing his guilt on death row.
“What?” Imogene’s voice rose in response. She looked Catherine in the eye for a brief second before something bright blue caught her eye. On the starched white tabletop was a bouquet of familiar flowers. Bluebonnets.
“I asked her to set this up. I needed to see you, and I knew it’d be a while before you’d agree if I asked.”
“So you used my best friend? You got her to lie to me and force me into doing something you knew I wouldn’t want to do?” She turned to walk away, but Catherine had a strong yet shaky grip on her arm.
“Please.” Catherine’s voice was weak. “Give me five minutes and then if you don’t want to see me ever again…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
Imogene looked back into Catherine’s eyes and felt powerless. Even if she wanted to punish the woman, she couldn’t. Not when her eyes were so soft, inviting, and earnest. “Fine.” She removed her coat and took a seat across from Catherine. Her black, long-sleeve Henley shirt hugged every curve perfectly. She fingered a small, velvety blue petal. The sentiment didn’t escape her, but it would take more than flowers to earn her forgiveness. She pushed the bundle aside.
“Looks like you took a page out of the Catherine Carter wardrobe handbook.” Imogene looked at her with icy eyes.
“Five minutes.” Imogene crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. Their waiter arrived a moment later. Catherine ordered a red wine and Imogene blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’ll have the house drink.” She owes me more than a drink. Imogene encouraged Catherine to speak with a wave of her hand.