Catching Caitlin (15 page)

I slumped in my seat.

I grabbed a nurse from
the hall and asked if I could attend the AA meeting that night.

She nodded, glancing at
her clipboard. “Yes, we usually encourage it actually. Let’s the family see how
everything works in here. We just need you to sign up because we only have so
many seats.”

“Okay, where can I do
that?”

She smiled. “I actually
have the form here.” She handed me her clipboard and I wrote my name in. The
time for the meeting was scribbled in the top left corner: 7 o’clock. I gave
her back the clipboard.

My mom met my dad and I
at the door and gave us each a hug. “You two shouldn’t stay here all day
though, that’d be a waste.”

“We’ll go catch a movie,
how’s that sound?” My dad slapped me on my shoulder. I nodded, liking the idea
of getting my mind off things until tonight.

“We’ll be back later,
Tammy,” my dad said. My mom kissed me on the forehead, which made me almost
start crying. She hadn’t be so sweet or kind in years.

***

A
fter seeing a movie and
getting a chance to spend some time with my dad, I drove over to the clinic to
sit in the AA meeting. A sign at the entrance pointed me in the right
direction, where I found an almost empty room. Chairs were circled around an
empty space in the center, and two banquet tables lined the far wall and were
covered in snack food for guests and patients. As I looked around the room,
feeling anxious and out of place, a young woman with brown hair and a splash of
freckles on her face caught my gaze and approached me.

“Hello,” she said. I
jumped a little and looked up at her. She couldn’t have been younger than
thirty, but I couldn’t pin her age. “I’m Vicky.” She extended her hand and
walked to me. I shook it.

“I’m Caitlin...”

“Are you new here?” She
was hard to read, but friendly.

“I think? I’m just here
for the meeting.” I thought about if it was rude to ask her if she was new.
“How long have you been here?”

“Not long, two days.” She
had a fixed gaze, like like she was looking through me. I felt a bit odd. I
tried to figure out if she was trying to scare me.

I looked past her into
the room. More people were showing up, I figured the meeting would start soon.
“How is it?”

“The first two days?
Depends on how bad off you are. For me? Absolutely punishing, but you have
nurses to take care of you. They check up on you, make sure you don’t die.”

“Die?” I felt sweat on my
back. “You can die?”

“If you’re bad enough
off, you can.” She leaned against a table with some food on it, taking weight
off her feet.

I lowered my voice, “Have
people died?”

“Well the saying goes
around here, if you don’t get sober, you’ll die anyway, just slower... more
painful.”

I gulped.

She looked horrified for
a moment, her hard expression melting away. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be scaring
you.” She chuckled and stood back up.

I laughed nervously,
wishing she would leave.

“I’m really sorry,” she
repeated. “Someone gave me the same spiel the first day, it only seemed right I
pass it on.” She came closer to me and hugged me, which was surprising. I
patted her back lightly in return.

A couple of minutes
later, I saw my mom walk in. We found two seats next to each other. As the
other seats filled with people, everyone quieted down. To my surprise, Vicky
was the first to speak. She cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention in
the circle.

“My name is Vicky
Riveras, and I’m an alcoholic,” she said. Everyone greeted her, and she started
in on her story. She came from a wealthy home, but spiraled out of control into
depression and ultimately alcoholism after her first divorce in her mid
twenties. She had been sober for three days.

I felt my throat tighten,
I really didn’t want to go up in front of everyone. I mean, I couldn’t have
been as bad as everyone else.

“Just a little bit ago I
met a young lady named Caitlin and I’d like to welcome her to her first
session,” she said. Vicky gestured to me. Everyone briefly turned their
attention and I wanted to die. Relief washed over me when my mom broke the
awkward silence and greeted me, encouraging other people to join in. They
sounded cheerful at least.

I leaned in close to
whisper in her ear. “I didn’t know you had to do this.”

“You don’t have to talk
in front of everyone, but it’s amazing what it does for you,” she whispered
back. “No one forces you,” my mom assured me.

I nodded to Vicky when
she glanced at me. Her talking about her divorce made me think of Hugh, what he
might be doing right now. Was he with another woman? Was that all he did before
he ran into me, and I was just another girl in his line of conquests?

I held my breath, trying
my best to stay calm.

Another couple of people
presented, and they all had different stories. Some came from wealthy jobs and
families before their alcoholism crippled them into debt. Others were
functionally rich, and maintained the illusion of control until they woke up
one morning and saw the garbage bags full of beer filling their garage. They
all admitted their names, their strife, and that they were so much happier.

I wanted to be happy too,
because I certainly hadn’t been except for some fleeting moments with Hugh in
the last couple of weeks. Without him, I felt like I was nothing, and I at
least
knew
that wasn’t right at all.

I swallowed my spit and
raised my hand to volunteer. Everyone quieted down and turned a little in their
chairs to face me. I started my story as everyone else had: “Hello, my name is
Caitlin Winters, and...” I looked at Vicky, I don’t know why, maybe assurance.
“I have a drinking problem, and I want to get better.” It was cathartic, and it
already felt like this weight was lifted off my shoulders. This grand structure
I had created that held me down, where if it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t change
it.

By saying it was, I
could. That night, I decided to check in. Four weeks wouldn’t kill me. It might
make me stronger.

It just might make me
stronger.

***

T
he first day and night
sober were fine, but the second night was brutal. I woke up every hour on the
hour with a shaking fever, trying to break itself. Hot flashes would make me
feel like I was on fire, and cold sweat soaked my sheets. Nurses were in an
out, making sure I had enough water and wasn’t passed out and dead.

After waking up on the
second day, I realized it was the longest I had gone without a drink in two and
half years. I couldn’t believe what it felt like.

A dark fog had finally
lifted, and I felt rejuvenated. I didn’t have any more anxiety, and my mouth
wasn’t dry. I had this sense of life blooming, this glow and aura I had missed
for so long.

It was great being able
to catch up with my mom, almost privately. There were some activities that the
clinic held for the patients, which included a movie night once a week, and
board games were free to pass around.

On the fifth day, my mom
and I were eating lunch. For most of the meal, we’d been making small talk.

“When are you going to
talk to Hugh again?” she asked me. I almost dropped my fork.

“Talk to him again? Why
would I?” I picked at my food, feeling a little agitated.

“I thought that was one
of the things he told you when you two broke up. He just couldn’t be with you
if you were drunk.”

“That’s not all though,”
I said. I lazily gestured with my fork while I talked. “He has his own problems
too. I really should have been the one to leave in the first place. When I saw
his wedding ring, I should have walked away.”

“You couldn’t have
known,” she said. “How bad it was.”

“I should have though, I
should have.” I finished my plate, scraping the remains with my bread. I looked
at her as I swallowed my last bite. “Hindsight, I know.”

***

T
hat night, I sat in my
bed with my legs crossed, and held my phone with Hugh’s number on the screen.

I held my breath and
pushed the call button, letting it ring. Every second between rings felt like
eternity, but finally, it clicked over to his voicemail. I breathed a small
sigh of relief, and waited for the beep.

“Hugh, It’s Caitlin. I
wanted to call you and say I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry if you feel like
it was your fault I got drunk that night. I’m better now, I’m getting help, and
I’ve been sober for almost a week. I just wanted to call, and say I’m sorry for
stressing you out. I hope you’re having a good life.” I couldn’t think of what
else to say. The first words that sprang to my lips were “I love you,” but I
couldn’t make myself say them. I was shocked that they appeared so easily.

I ended the call,
probably awkwardly adding twenty seconds to the end of the voicemail. I fell
back into my bed and cried. I felt mixture of relief and regret. I let myself
cry, letting it all go. Finally letting it all go.

T
he weeks passed quickly
as the summer heat set in, giving the air a thick and humid smell. But most of
all, I started to really relish my newfound life. Everything felt different. It
was like I had been sitting in this daze for the last couple of years, my mind
addled and my motivation sapped.

After my mom and I
returned home, my dad gathered us in the living room. It was the first time we
had all been together and sober. Tears welled up in his eyes as he talked to
us.

“I’m so glad,” he said,
“that we feel like a family again.” He smiled at my mom, and touched her cheek.
“That I can sleep at night and feel peace.”

They moved back into the
master bedroom together. It made me happy to see them so enthusiastic about
their life together.

I continued going to AA
meetings, where I’d meet up with Vicky and chat with her. I started seeing a
therapist, who eventually got me started with some anti-depressants, with the
promise that I would be shocked at the turn around. Aaron was amazingly supportive,
which made me feel foolish for thinking he wouldn’t be.

“I knew someone who got
into AA in freshmen year,” Aaron told me, “and I’ve never looked down at
someone for improving themselves.”

He brought me flowers,
and we started doing a lot more together that summer. We attended writing
workshops and he dragged me to go kayaking one weekend.

Kayaking was an absolute
blast, skimming through the water with such agility and ease was exhilarating.
As soon as I picked up another job for the summer, working as a delivery driver
for a local florist, I snatched a second-hand kayak and started hitting the
water whenever I could.

What really brought me
peace and perspective was being outdoors with the sun on my face and cool
breeze on my back. I started seeing what Aaron saw, why he majored in
environmental science. That breathless beauty that I’d get to watch fly past me
as I shot down river after river. I thought about that last environmental
science class I took, mostly a whim to get my science credit out of the way.

So, I decided that fall I
would enroll in the local community college to get my grades back up. From
there, I’d move forward and reapply to University of Maine and declare my major
as Environmental Science.

I just felt more alive,
more involved in my own life.

But my heart still tugged
me towards Hugh. I often found myself lost in thought, thinking about what he
might be doing, how his company was doing, and if he was happy. I just hoped he
was happy.

But I couldn’t make him
grow and move on from his past, just like he couldn’t force me to do the same.

Sometimes, I’d dream of
him. In y dreams we were naked together, sprawled out on his bed in the
penthouse suite he always stayed in. He traced circles around my breasts with
the tip of his finger, his eyes watching me intently. I felt warm and safe,
like everything was
just so.
I nuzzled him, and he swept me up and took
me into the bathroom, soaking me in hot water in the tub. I laid there, while
he massaged my head, my arms, my legs. While he soaped me up, I watched his
muscles dance and flex. He whispered in my ear, that he loved me and that I
would always be with him.

***

I
t was a sunny Tuesday
when Aaron and I decided to meet up and get some coffee and a snack. It was
warm outside, but a cutting wind made it impossible to sit on the patio. We
cozied up at our usual table in the corner of the shop.

“Tell me, how’s it
going?” Aaron said, eyeing the whipped cream in his mug.

“Just doing the same
things, delivering flowers, you know.”

“Have you thought about
going back to school?” He took a sip. I didn’t quite feel like finishing my
coffee, it tasted a bit burnt.

“I think I’m going to
enroll in community college,” I muttered.

“Community? Why?”

I blinked at him. “I got
kicked out of my last school.”

“You did? I thought you
just lost your scholarship.” He took another loud sip of his coffee. The
whipped cream bowed under his upper lip. “Just reapply for that. I’m sure you
could write a hell of a letter now after all those workshops we’ve been taking.
Just appeal the loss.”

My heart raced. “It’s
that easy?” I couldn’t help but smile, the idea would cut an entire year off my
plans. “That’d be fucking perfect.”

Aaron grinned, clearly
pleased with himself. He thought for a moment, taking a loud slurp and staring
at the wall behind me. “Have you heard from Hugh?”

“Hugh?” I pretended like
I didn’t recognize the name. He gave me a look. I sighed. “No, I haven’t. Why?
Should I have?”

“I just read an article
the other day about him taking over some electric company. I wondered if he
told you or something.”

“No,” I tried not to
start shaking, “I haven’t. I’m glad he’s doing well though. I haven’t talked to
him in forever.”

He was silent for a
moment. He looked out the window. I pushed my biscotti around on the plate, my
appetite suddenly gone.

“Well...”

I raised my eyebrow at
him. “Well, what?”

“Don’t be snappy with me,
I’m just trying to start a conversation here.” He frowned. “He mentioned you in
the interview. At least, I think he did.”

“He what?”

“Look.” He pulled out his
phone and found the article, some local newspaper in Nevada had printed it. It
was titled “New CEO of Electric Company Takes Drastic Action.”

“What’s it about?”

“The meat of the article
talks about the newly appointed CEO of Silver Energy moving the company towards
solar based power. He managed to convince the board of directors to move
forward with the attempt.”

“All right... go on.” I
scanned the lines as he scrolled past them all too quickly. I wanted to drink
up the whole thing, but I waited for permission to snatch the phone.

“He was flushing a large
portion of his own income into the project, and if it was successful, they’d
drop their entire line of power plants and move their workers to the solar
fields. It’s interesting in an environmental science way, but that wasn’t what
I wanted to show you.” He scrolled down to the interview portion of the
article. “This part, read this.”

The interviewer asked
Hugh what made him decide to try such a radical idea, when the future of solar
was so skeptical.

Hugh answered, “It’s hard
to pin point really, but I’ve done a lot of thinking on the subject. Forgive me
for being less technical and more emotional, but these are the reasons I can
think of for doing this. The reality is I had this light in my life, this kind
of wild energy. She pushed me to really reflect on myself, to challenge myself.
I let her slip through my fingers.

“She reminded me that I
had to look forward to the future, to keep my eyes set straight ahead, to think
about what other people might want. I think that people really
want
to
be happy, to look forward to the future and where we will all be in a hundred
years. I know I might not be here, but my friends and their families might
still be. As a CEO, I take responsibility for creating a world that can sustain
them, to keep them happy. To stop focusing on the past and look at the future.”

The interviewer was
astonished, and didn’t have much of a followup. He thanked Hugh for his time
and concluded the article with the lingering thought that Hugh had given him:
‘Maybe it was time to start looking forward and not at the past. To learn and
move on.’

“What do you think?”
Aaron said. He wasn’t looking at his phone, but staring at me. I noticed my jaw
was open, and my heart was racing.

“You really think that
was me he was talking about?”

“Who else could it be?”

“Someone else... his
wife?” I reclined back, feeling overwhelmed with everything.

“I don’t know, Caitlin.
From what you’ve said since you got back, it sounds like he’s talking about
you.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and crossed his arms. “Why
don’t you try calling him?”

“Why should I? I already
did when I was in rehab. He never called back.”

“Maybe he’s scared you
won’t want him to.” He shrugged and finished his coffee. “I know I’d rather get
it over with and stop wondering what-if.”

“I did...” I stared off
out the window. “I did have a dream about him last night.”

“Sounds like a sign to
me, and you know how I feel about that.” He smiled at me. “Call him. You have
to.”

I nodded slowly, not
really knowing if I agreed or just wanted it dropped. What if Hugh still loved
me?

“Thanks, Aaron.” I said.
He smiled and pulled my plate towards himself.

“You’re not going to eat
this are you?”

I shook my head, and
watched him devour it. I needed to to call Hugh, I knew it.

***

I
had tunnel vision when
I picked up my phone later that day. I was sitting in my car, the windows
rolled up and the engine turned off. I breathed deeply, trying to regain
control of myself. I didn’t want to sound crazy if I did get a hold of him.

“Should I do it? Should I
even try?”

I squeezed my eyes shut
as I pushed the dial key, holding my breath until it started to ring. It felt
like ages.

“Hello?” Hugh answered. I
felt my face burn, and I immediately wanted to hang up. “Hello?” he repeated.

“Hi Hugh,” I said, my
voice weaker than I wished it was. “It’s Caitlin.”

His tone changed
instantly, “Cay? Wow, it’s been a long time.” I loved hearing that nick name
again. It sounded like he was busy, some clanging and noises on his end.

“Is this a bad time? I
can call back,” I said. It was a good out at least.

“No, not a bad time at
all, I’m just cooking some lunch.” I felt a heavy sense of dread in the air.
“What’s going on? Any formal occasion for calling?”

“I just wanted to see how
you were doing... I heard about your promotion. I guess I called to wish you
congratulations.”

“Oh. That’s nice of you,”
he said. His tone revealed nothing to me. I was too swamped up inside myself to
gauge him at all, especially over the phone.

“Really though, I can let
you finish making lunch, I’m sure you’re entertaining guests or something.”

“No, you’re fine. No one
is here, just me,” he answered. I breathed a little, but tried to keep myself
guarded. He exhaled. “Tell me about your last couple months. I hope they’ve
been good.”

“It has been, really
good. I’ve been sober for the last two months.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!”
I started to shiver in my car, grabbing the steering wheel to try and steady
myself. “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself,” he added.

“I’m going back to
college too. I’m drafting up an appeal letter to the committee for my
scholarship.”

“Going to finish your
Theatre degree?”

“No, that wasn’t for me.
Not anymore at least. I’m going to push for an Environmental Science degree.”

“Science huh? I never was
too great at that... Just the principals I guess.” He stirred on his end,
moving what sounded like pots around. Something clanged loudly.

“Shit, I dropped my
pasta.” He sighed into the phone. “What a mess...”

“Do you need to call me
back? Take care of it?”

“No. I don’t care about
the pasta, Cay.” I was silent. “I don’t care about that at all. I’m kicking
myself — why didn’t I make myself call you back?”

“So you did hear my
voicemail. Why didn’t you call me back?” I felt my voice giving way, so I
cleared my throat to try and keep it going.

“I didn’t know what to
say. You were right. I needed help too, calling you back wouldn’t have made
that any easier.” He sighed, “I never confronted Marcia’s death, I never
approached it, I just kept it locked up, guarded.” He repositioned the phone.
“I’m glad you called me. I’ve been wanting to clear the air with you for a
while. We left on a really bad note.”

“That’s putting it
lightly.”

“But it’s true. It was
terrible how I left you like that. I felt terrible for a long time. I still
love you, Caitlin.”

I gasped, and my palms
started sweating in the nearly unbearable heat. Sweat dripped off my face into
my lap. “I love you too, Hugh...”

“But maybe we can’t be
together anymore,” he continued. My heart sank like a rock, and I felt ill. “I
mean... maybe ‘we’ have to move on too. We dated in high school and a little
this year, but will it help us if we keep going on like this?”

“I dream about you,” I
said, “I dream about you every week.” He went silent, but I could still hear
his breathing. I steeled myself and pushed forward. “I dream of us, being
together and keeping ourselves sane.”

“I don’t know, Cay. We
couldn’t help each other before, what makes you think we could now?”

“I don’t know, but if we
don’t try —“

“No,” he cut me off. “We
weren’t in a good place, we won’t be if we get together again. I can’t put you
through that. And for myself, I can’t either. Look,” he breathed. “I’m really
glad you called me. I’m glad I could get that off my chest, but I think we both
have to move on now. We’re just holding each other down.”

“How am I holding you
down?” I snapped at him, “You seem so fine with just tossing me aside. You
probably forgot about me until I just called you.”

“This. We can’t fight
like this.”

I was frustrated. What
was I to him anyway, just a good time for a while? I looked at my watch. “It
doesn’t matter I guess. I have to finish up this letter.” I pulled the phone
down and hung up immediately. I didn’t want him to get another word in, I was
too hurt and too pissed at him.

How could I ache for a
man who was so good at frustrating me? I reached out to him and he pushed me
away.