The following weeks fly by. I inform Sean and the other partners I am definitely taking the job. We go over the timeline and they want me in California within the month. Which leaves me three weeks to get everything accomplished.
I was able to give Taylor two options since she was one of my big concerns. She could accompany me and become a publicist in the office with me, or she could stay in New York and take a smaller promotion. She and her boyfriend, well, now fiancé, decided to stay in New York where his job is. I keep catching her crying or refusing to pack up any of the things that are in my office. We’re in the process of moving all my accounts over to her until they expire. The clients are already familiar with her, and I’m positive she can handle them.
“There’s another delivery here,” Taylor says and she brings in a huge bouquet of Stargazer lilies. I don’t need to look at the card to know who it’s from. I’ve gotten something to remind me of our time together every few days. “Should I throw these out?” she asks being the ever-supportive friend.
“No, I’ll torment myself for a day or two.” I smile and return to the emails I have to handle.
“Can I read the card?”
“Sure, I don’t plan to,” I say turning my chair around.
I hear her taking short breaths and spin around to see tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Cat, please read this.”
My eyes close as the frustration starts to build. He won’t stop. It’s almost every day I get an email, text, card, or gift. “I can’t read it. I leave in two weeks. Please take it,” I plead and fight the urge to rip the card from her fingers.
I miss him so much it hurts.
Some days I want to cry, scream, fight, and run back to him. But I’ve allowed myself to be happy about where my life is going. I got the promotion I wanted and it’s better than I originally thought.
I was an open book. I told him about Neil, my father, Piper … hell, everything I could, but he kept his secrets. That’s not the love I want. The love I want is kind, honest, patient … not deceitful and hurtful. I know in my heart Jackson is nothing like Neil, but I can’t help but draw the comparisons here.
“People make mistakes, mistakes don’t make the people.” Taylor pauses at my desk putting the card in her pocket. “If he didn’t love you, or still think of you, none of these would be here.” She looks around the room at the various flowers, the game of Battleship, the lighthouse statue, and the letters that sit on my desk.
My heart accelerates as I look at each item silently taunting me, reminding me of the good times we shared. Why can’t he just go away? Why can’t he let me go? He did this. He severed all the trust I had. Ripped me to shreds and now I’ve had enough.
Taylor waits expectantly and I grow angry. “So I go back to him and say what? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m moving to California.’” I pause trying to rein in the sudden burst of emotion. “No, I’m leaving. I’m getting a fresh start, a second chance. I’m happy about this job and the move,” I stubbornly insist and turn in my chair.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Let some other girl have a shot with a guy like him,” she rebukes and sits in the chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “I mean, hell, if things don’t work out with Quinn, maybe I’ll give him a call.” Taylor’s brow raises and my mouth falls slack.
I look at this sweet girl with a heart of gold whose horns are now showing. I don’t know whether to be proud or scared. “This is beneath you.”
“What?” she scoffs. “Truth hurts, sister. I never saw you as happy as you were with him.”
“Lies!” I burst out suddenly. “God! This is the part none of you are grasping. He lied to me! For months I sat by him, slept in his bed—a bed he probably shared with his wife.” I close my eyes trying to shut out the memories flooding in. “Wife. Say that out loud and let me know how it goes down, because I want to vomit every single time. She has a name. Worse than that, he had other people keep his secrets.”
“I’m not saying he was right.”
“Then what are you saying? Because all anyone wants me to do is let him explain. But here’s the thing, Tay, he can explain all day and it doesn’t change the fact that I got this amazing job. I’m moving to California and if I was still with him, I probably wouldn’t be. So in the end this is better for me!” I say exasperated.
Taylor stands looking at me with a weary expression. “I’m just worried. I don’t want you to run away to California.”
“I’m not running. I’m starting over—which I deserve. There’s nothing here for me other than you and Ashton. I need to finish up here and then I have some conference calls tonight. Can you make sure the new files are in the box to go to California please?”
She nods and exits the room. I swear I’ve had this same discussion every day with either her or Ashton.
I look at the stack of letters from the gifts he sent, all unopened by me. Taylor read them when I refused and I can only imagine what they say. He has no problem melting my heart—he never has. It’s easy to get swept up in his charms. I don’t know if any of it was real. My heart says yes, but my head says it’s time to let go. The last time I didn’t listen to my head, look where it got me.
Glancing at the clock, I realize I’m going to be late meeting the realtor in Scotch Plains.
“Taylor,” I yell out. “Can you text me the agent’s number who’s handling my father’s house please?”
Grabbing my belongings, I rush out the door.
“Sure thing, good luck.” Taylor calls out as I head to the elevator.
Thankfully, I drove in to work today, so I can head straight there instead of going home first. I haven’t been back to the house since I first was there, but I spoke with an agent as soon as I took the job in California. It’ll help financially to sell it, and I don’t need anything holding me back here. I want no loose ends. It’ll be a clean break.
During the hour drive, I talk to my mother and let her know about the promotion. It’s been weeks since we’ve spoken, but she sounds genuinely happy for me. Which is surprising, but I’m grateful to be leaving on good terms.
Pulling up to the quaint house it looks different. Even though I haven’t been back here, I’ve had some things done to it. The landscapers took care of the overgrown bushes and I had painters do the outside. There are a few minor things I need to have replaced inside, but otherwise it’s going to be an “as-is” sale.
I smile as I see Mary peering out at the driveway. I give her a short wave and the curtain closes.
“Catherine?” she calls out and heads over.
“Hi, Mary.”
“I thought that was you.” Her warm smile shines bright. “I saw the workers here this week.”
Her honest concern for the house and for me is heartwarming. I’m sure if I lived here it would seem as if she’s nosey, but not having the ability to look after the house myself, it comforts me.
“I hope they behaved.”
“Oh, they were very nice to look at.” She winks and giggles a little.
I chuckle, “I’m glad.”
“Yes, they did beautiful work clearing the shrubbery,” Mary notes as she looks at the house. “Hunter would be very happy.”
I smile at the idea that he would be pleased, “I’m glad.”
“I’m sorry, dear, how are you?”
“I’m doing well. I’m moving to California in a few weeks,” I explain and her brow lifts.
“Oh, but you just got here. Why would you move all the way out there?” Mary asks.
We spend the next few minutes talking about the new job and about her grandson who came back from the west coast.
“I’m glad you’re happy, dear,” Mary says and puts her arm on my shoulder.
Happy? I’m excited about the job. I’m ready to take my career to the next level … but happy? In one aspect of my life, yes. In another … no.
Before I can say anything else, the realtor pulls up and hops out of the car. “Catherine Pope?”
Stepping forward, I extend my hand. “Yes, you must be Mindi.”
“Mindi Erickson.” She returns the handshake and nods. “Nice to meet you.”
I explained the urgency of my move and how the house has to be sold quickly. Not having a mortgage or any debt on the house weighs in my favor. She seems very optimistic and already has a few couples she would like to show the house to.
“How about we go inside?” she asks and I bid farewell to Mary.
After a few minutes of going through each room, we make a checklist of things that would make it easier to sell and what can be the new owner’s decisions.
“Do you think it’s doable?”
“Yes, absolutely. How quickly can you have everything removed from the house? I think it’ll show better.”
For a second my breath catches. I didn’t think about what I would do with all that’s left of my father. While we didn’t have any relationship, the last thing I want is to lose any ties I have to him. I don’t know why this never occurred to me but suddenly it’s as if a boulder is sitting on my chest.
“Oh, ummm, I didn’t—” I stop trying to think of how to explain that I never realized I’d need to get rid of everything.
“If you’d rather leave it, we can, but I think if selling quickly is the goal then we should have the house staged. It’s well worth the money. You’d need to have anything from here removed quickly. I can have this listed in a day if you tell me you’re ready.” She explains with a no-nonsense look, waiting for my answer.
“Okay, I just need to make a few calls,” I say looking away.
“I’ll put the sign up now, and then call me when you’re good to go. Here’s the number for the company I’ve worked with. They’re fair and efficient.” Mindi hands me a card and smiles. “I’m going to take a few pictures of the outside.”
I head into the bedroom and look around. There’s not much that’s salvageable, but these are his things. I grab a few shirts and photos, then enter the office. The box that sits under the desk is empty. Taking a few minutes, I pack anything I might want at some point.
Opening the drawer to the desk I see a VHS tape sitting in the back that says: Catherine Grace.
The office has an old television and VCR. Curiosity gets the best of me and I put the video in and press play. I hear his voice for the first time in almost twenty years.
“Catherine, what does Santa say?” my father says from behind the camera.
I smile at the sight of myself at two years old. I have a pink romper on with pigtails.
“Ho, ho, ho.” My mouth forms a tiny ‘O’ as I walk around saying it repeatedly.
“That’s right! And what does Daddy say?”
“No, no, no.” Everyone laughs and then my mother appears in front of the camera. “Hunter, put that down and come out here.”
The camera is placed on something and I see him. He has dark brown eyes that mirror mine and scruff along his cheek that gives him an almost Mediterranean look. My father looks at me like I’m the sun. His eyes beam and glow when he scoops me into his arms and holds me close.
“My beautiful girl …” he trails off and the camera flashes to another scene.
I’m maybe four years old lying on his chest asleep. My father turns the camera toward me and him as he rocks in the recliner.
“Hi, baby girl. Today’s your birthday and you’re sick. Each year since you were born you run a crazy fever and this year is no different. Your Mommy’s sleeping so I got up with you this time. I decided I had some things to say while you’re lying in my arms,” he pauses and presses a kiss to my head and my younger self snuggles deeper.
I sit here and see the man who held me in his arms when I was sick, yet I have no memory other than him walking away. There’s a part of me that finds peace, seeing it firsthand, knowing he loved me, and another part breaks because we missed out on so much.
“First, boys are stupid. Remember that. No boy will ever love you as much as I do. When I have to give you away, I’ll never really let go. You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl. Okay, we got that out of the way … The first time you said ‘I love you, Daddy’ was a day I’ll never forget. To see so much honesty took my breath away. You’re so beautiful, sweet, and perfect.” My father’s eyes shine with unshed tears. “One day, you’ll hate me, like every teenager does. I want you to know, even at your worst—you’ll always be the best thing I’ve ever done. You’ll be a part of my heart no matter how much you despise me. Nothing in this world will ever take that away. You’re a piece of me and I’ll always be here for you—even if something happens to me.” A tear falls from his eyes and he pulls me closer.
The best thing he’s ever done …
“The next thing is you should know how to change a tire. It’s very important you learn this because you shouldn’t need a man to fix things. Although … it’s how I met your mother,” he ponders that and smiles. “Again, I reiterate the first rule about boys being stupid.”
I laugh and watch as he rubs my back and rocks a few moments. It’s a glimpse into the man I never knew. I look around at the room that I’ve packed up. It looks bare and empty, which is how I feel. Clearing out his belongings makes his absence that much more apparent. I’ve been avoiding this house, his things, because I was focused on Jackson. Now, I’m faced with it head on. The letter was one thing, but hearing him, seeing him, is completely different.
“Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. That may seem like a stupid thing to say, but you should remember it. If your life isn’t what you wanted—you can change it. You have the power to make a change. Live the life you want to live. If someone doesn’t treat you well … cut them loose. If you want something bad enough … go after it. There’s nothing in this world that comes easy. Take your life by the horns and don’t let go.” He stops speaking as I begin to wake.
“Daddy?”
“Shhh, it’s okay, Sunshine. Go back to sleep,” he murmurs in my ear.
The screen goes black and it turns back on when I’m eight. It’s the time my parents took me to the Jersey shore. I remember this. I watch my father hand the camera off to my mom. They smile at each other but it seems strained. The video plays as my childhood unfolds before me. There are good memories here, where I was safe, secure, and held tight. The last scene ends and I allow myself a moment to reflect.
My entire life I’ve felt as if I was fighting to be good enough for someone. Watching man after man disappoint and desert me. And my father was the first, but being in his space and seeing the life he lived—is sad. Am I any better? I push against the walls that surround my heart. I keep people at a distance and at what cost? I want to be loved but I don’t want to grab life by the horns. Somehow, I always managed to get poked by them.
If only my father had made different choices … if only he had had the courage to come to me before he died. We may have had a fighting chance. I probably would’ve been angry, but at least there was a shot. My mind drifts to Jackson. Am I doing the same thing?
Not wanting to waste the little time I have, I get up and get back to work. Mulling over all I’ve learned today. Trying to focus on the task of keeping my walls erect, but catching myself getting teary a few times.
This is much harder than I imagined but I’ve gone through all of the rooms and made a few piles of things to keep, but most will be donated. I sit on the sofa, exhausted and feeling run down. My phone beeps, but I’m too tired to even look.
I start to doze off and the phone rings. I let it go and try to nap. However, the caller doesn’t get the point and calls again. I silence the call and close my eyes. My exhaustion is overwhelming. I could sleep for ten hours. Moving sucks.
My ring tone wakes me from a sound sleep.
“Hello,” I ask groggily, turning over, looking at the clock, and seeing it’s now nighttime.
“Well, well. If it isn’t, Kitty.” Mark’s voice breaks through my haze and I’m instantly awake.
“Hello, Mark.”
My defenses rise since I’m unsure of why he would be calling.
“You don’t call, write, or smoke signal. I was beginning to think you didn’t find me attractive anymore.”
“I’m sure you understand why I haven’t be in touch.”
He laughs the way only he would, “I know. I told you he was an idiot. I’m not calling about Muffin. Natalie had the baby.”
“That’s wonderful. How is she? I wanted to call her, but I wasn’t sure if I should.” My voice is shaky. I became close with her, and we haven’t spoken since the break-up. A rush of irritation at myself washes over me. I should’ve called her. She didn’t deserve to be left out because Jackson is a dick.
“She asked me to reach out to you. Nat scheduled Aaron’s memorial for next week and asked for you to be there. She said she could use all the support she can get.”
“Of course. I’ll be there. Where is it?”
“Pennsylvania. In his home town.”
“Okay.”
Mark takes a second and lets out a long breath. “Fuck it. I’m going to say this to you because I sure as hell won’t say it next time I see you. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’m not going to ask you to do anything. Just know this … he loves you. In all the years I’ve known the son of a bitch, he’s never looked at anyone like he looks at you.”
I start to cut him off, “Mar—”
“You both fucked this up and you’re both miserable. Unless you’re not?” he questions.
“I’m surviving,” I reply, unwilling to lie to him but I don’t want to give him any more.
“Isn’t that great?” he answers sarcastically. “You’re surviving, he’s losing his fucking mind, and I’m ready to punch the both of you. This is your life, and far be it from me to give advice because I sure as shit don’t do relationships. But I’ll tell you this … if I ever felt the way you both did about someone, I’d be breaking every goddamn door to get back to them. I wouldn’t be waiting around for shit to magically fix itself, because it won’t.”
“That’s the thing,” I pause. “He already broke the damn doors around my heart. I never broke his. He never let me in.” My lip begins to quiver as the emotions start to bubble up. “I loved him. He wants to keep secrets. Fine. But I can’t have that kind of relationship. You lied for him, his mother lied, he lied. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
Mark doesn’t respond right away. “I didn’t lie to you. It wasn’t my story to tell and from what I understand—you still don’t know it.” Mark pauses allowing his words to settle in. “You owe it to each other to talk and at least learn everything. Then you both can go back to being fucking stupid. I’ll let Nat know you’ll be there and I’ll text you the info.”
“I’ll be there. I promise.”
He hangs up without another word.
Next week I’ll have to see him. Next week I’ll have no choice. And then I can put this all behind me.