His Sugar Baby(69)
Michael had turned fully toward her during the spilling tirade. His frowning gaze never left her face, and he listened intently to everything she said, everything that she didn’t say.
Vicky shook her head, still visibly upset. A smile flickered briefly across her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
“It’s all right.”
“How did you and Cathy meet?”
Michael hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal anything that might hurt Winter. No, her name was Cathy, he corrected himself. The name felt strange to him, but that wasn’t important. He carefully chose to tell her friend only the bare minimum of the actual truth. “We exchanged e-mails a few times and then met over coffee.”
“Yes, I can see it happening that way.” Her expression was thoughtful. “And I can understand why she never told you about—about any of it. And why she wanted you to call her Winter. That’s her middle name, did you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” Michael felt his facial muscles tighten, the twitch of a tick in his jaw. “I didn’t know anything about her that really mattered.”
“Michael, don’t judge her, please. Try to understand. She was compartmentalizing, disconnecting, in order to cope.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He was suddenly furious again. “If I’d known, I could have offered her sympathy. I could have helped her more financially. I could have been there for her!”
“You still don’t get it! Cathy needed someone, badly. Someone she could be her normal self with. Someone who wouldn’t look at her with pity or treat her like she was some sort of pariah. You did that!” Vicky’s voice gentled. She touched his sleeve. “You may not believe it right now. But you did help her, in a way no one else could have done. She didn’t have to be strong around you. That took the pressure off her. She could be herself with you.”
Michael stared down at her, but he was no longer listening. Memories swirled through his head, mingling with things that Vicky had said. Be herself… be normal…He remembered her face lit up by laughter, her passion… He’d helped her…Cold reality dashed him then. He had used her as a casual convenience. Gorge rose in his throat. He thought he was going to be sick. He could still hear the drone of Vicky’s voice and, slowly, what she was saying came together in his head.
“…when she’d come in to work looking more rested. She’d smile to herself sometimes. I thought there might be someone. She messed up once and dropped your name. But she never said anything else, and I didn’t ask.”
His lacerated spirit was pathetically eager to embrace any crumb. “She smiled sometimes? Are you sure?”
Vicky’s brown eyes sparkled. “Yes, Michael. I can safely say that she smiled, a happy, satisfied smile, when she thought no one was looking.”
Michael nodded, absurdly pleased. “Thanks for that, Vicky.” He bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “It was good to meet you.”
Vicky laughed. “I’m glad to have met you, too, Michael.”
He didn’t know why, maybe just out of habit, but he handed his business card to her as he said good-bye. Vicky glanced at the card before sliding it into her coat pocket. They parted company, she to turn toward the hospital entrance as he walked away toward his own vehicle. His breath frosted white on the air. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard her call out his name. Michael stopped, looked back.
Vicky yelled, “Give her time, Michael. It will be okay. Just give her a little time.”
Michael nodded and forced a smile. There was a tightness in his chest. He lifted his hand that he had heard. Then he trudged away to his car.
Afterward, Cathy never remembered leaving the hospital or driving across town. When she stopped the Lexus, she was staring through the windshield at the front of Michael’s house. Her mind was short-circuited. Then her thoughts settled. She drew a jagged breath, pulled her keys out of the ignition, and got out of the vehicle. She walked up to the front door and inserted her key.
Sometime later, she heard the front door open, then close. Cathy felt her whole body tense. Her heartbeat kicked up. She heard his steps on the granite tiles, coming closer. She turned to face the doorway.
“Winter?” Michael stepped into the living area then hesitated. It was already dusk, and she had turned on only some of the lamps, leaving the corners of the room in deep shadow. “What are you doing here?”
“I have been waiting.”
There was tension in the low-voiced words. She stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her stance, and the expression on her face, was startlingly reminiscent of the first time he had brought her to his house. The night that he had made sure of the bargain between them. He felt nothing of the same emotions that had animated him then. Michael did not advance on her as he had that night. Instead, he carefully maintained his distance. He kept the timbre of his voice neutral. “I’m here now.”
“I wanted to explain. I shouldn’t have said that, in the parking lot, like that.” Her throat visibly worked as she swallowed. “You were a part of my life. An important part. When—when Chloe got GVHD—when I thought she really was going to die—I wanted to c–call you. I started to c–call—” She suddenly threw her hands up to cover her face and burst into tears. “Oh God! I was so scared, so scared!”