Designed to Love (14 page)

"Yeah, well unless you plan on following me
in to the bathroom, you're going to have to give me some privacy,"
I respond, leaving her standing there looking slightly embarrassed
and uncertain.

***

I take my time in the shower letting the hot
water loosen my stiff muscles and joints. I really couldn't say how
long it has been since I last showered, but judging by the smell
and beginnings of a mustache and beard, it had to be at least three
days. With the exception of a few scattered red marks on my inner
arm, the wounds are all but healed, compliments of Claire. I wasn't
looking forward to facing a day without the help of the sedative
drugs being administered by Jason, but he'd cautioned me that I
would have to wean off of them and face the pain sooner or later. I
liked the way they dulled my senses, just enough so that I didn't
see, hear and smell Cat everywhere I went. If anyone could come
close to understanding my pain, I suppose it would be Jason. It had
just been a little over three years since he lost his wife and son
in an automobile accident and he says that he is only now beginning
to consider the possibility of a future without them. He says that
given enough time, I too may learn to love again and doesn't deny
it when I ask him if he has feelings for Alisha. It would serve no
purpose telling him that my love for Cat exceeds the boundaries of
normal human love, and I would never expect a love like that to
come around a second time.

Staring hard at my reflection, I struggle
with the stupid, meaningless decision of whether or not I should
shave my beard and mustache. Such a ridiculous thing to waste time
pondering over and yet here I am fifteen minutes later, trying to
decide. Cat loved it when I was clean shaven, so I was in the habit
of doing it just for her. Now that she wasn't here to brush her
hand across my cheek, like she so often did in the morning, it
seemed like a pointless thing to maintain. Nonetheless, I slowly
bring the electric shaver to my face and in a circular motion,
deliberately run it over the right side of my face, watching as the
hair disappears. When I'm done with the right side, I take a step
back and compare it to the left. I never saw it before, but Cat
used to say that a beard and mustache made me look mean. She was
right. The contrast between the two sides of my face reminds me of
my life now. The right side is a reflection of my life with Cat,
bright, free and full of joy. The left represents the dark,
forbidding shadow that looms over me now. I consider leaving my
face this way, as an outward reminder of whom I was and who I am
now, and wonder how the others would react to such bizarre
behavior.
It could buy me another dose of
sedatives if they thought I was on the verge of losing it
again
, I think, but reconsider when I picture having
someone follow me around twenty-four hours a day.

***

Had I known that Marti Campbell was sitting
in the kitchen with the others, I would have avoided going
downstairs all together. Never once, have I considered hurting a
woman, even Alisha, until now, and as I stand across the room,
face-to-face with the woman who sent Cat flying alone, across
country borders, I react unexpectedly and without forewarning.

"Why in the hell did you send her up there
alone? She wasn't ready," I hiss through clenched teeth, closing
the distance between us before she or anyone else has time to
react. I could snap her neck with one hand and take her life as
quickly as Cat's was taken from me. Instead, I grab her by the
shoulders and lift her small frame off the ground, shaking her like
a rag doll. "Why did you let her go without telling me? I am her
husband!" I shout.

I can feel her tremble with fear beneath my
grip and when her eyes fill with tears, I release her suddenly,
watching her scramble to get away from me. Elizabeth quickly comes
to my side and instead of being criticized by her and the others
for my inexcusable behavior; she gently leads me into the other
room, while the others console Marti. It only dawns on me later,
that my strong emotional outburst was once again experienced by the
others, explaining why they didn't readily intervene with Marti,
and I bow my head in remorse.

***

Claire deals with her sadness and pain by
focusing her attention on Midnight Star, the horse given to her on
her sixth birthday. Michael says Midnight is a godsend and the
others agree. It's the diversion that she needs to effectively cope
with the loss of Cat and she spends every minute she can outside,
riding and caring for him. Once in a while, other forest animals
will join them in the meadow, but for the most part, she rejects
our offers to keep her company. She eventually figured out how to
mount and stay on Midnight wearing the slick ski pants and can
tolerate being outside most of the day, in spite of the near
freezing temperatures. She hasn't used a bridle or saddle once
since bringing Midnight home, yet she safely rides him all over the
place, using just her telepathy to communicate instructions to him.
No one knows for sure what she is saying to him, or what he
understands, but every once in a while, she'll break down crying
and lie down on his back burying her head in his mane, calling out
Cat's name. During these events, he stops whatever it is that he's
doing and stands patiently still, waiting for her to finish and
give him the signal that she's ready to move on.

RONAN

Claire sits on the kitchen counter, with her
stuffed dog Hannah tucked under one arm and her arms folded across
her chest. She refuses to make eye contact with me and her lower
lip quivers as she bites it in an attempt to keep from crying.

"It's just for a little while, Claire.
Please try to understand," I plead, desperately needing her
approval.

"You promised Cat you would always take care
of me," she says, as her eyes swell with tears.

"Claire, I have to learn to take care of
myself before I can take care of you," I respond softly. "I'm a
mess right now. I have to figure out how to live in a world without
Cat, so that I can be a better brother and friend. You have the
others here to take care of you. They love you just as much as I
do. I'll be back before the snow melts, I promise."

In spite of her valiant efforts, she breaks
down crying, softly at first, then more hysterically when I turn to
leave.

"Please don't go, Ronan. Please don't leave
us," she sobs, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

"Claire, please don't do this. Alisha, Liz,
come take her," I say, pleading to them for help, as I try prying
her arms from around my neck, prompting her to cling even
tighter.

Neither of them budges, and Alisha just
shakes her head sadly. Even Burke and Brandon, are connected to
Claire's strong emotional response, and are helpless to come to my
aid. Claire has the power to mentally block me from leaving the
house and I almost expect the others to join her in a conspiracy to
stop me now. Jason eventually walks over and provides assistance
with Claire. He's had years of practice extracting terrified kids
from their parents' arms and he skillfully comforts and reassures
her, while gently separating her arms from around my neck.
Eventually she lets go, and clings to him still whimpering as I
walk out the door. It tears me up abandoning her when she needs me
the most. I feel like a coward. A big, selfish, spineless
coward.

It isn't until I've loaded my suitcase in
the trunk and am about to get in the car, that the others stop me.
Elizabeth is the first to hug me, and I can feel her shoulders
shake as she softly cries. Michael gently pulls her away, shakes my
hand and says, "We'll see you in a few days," mostly words to
comfort Liz. Brandon pats me on the shoulder and Burke says, "Bro,
are you sure you don't want some company?"

"I need some time alone," I reply and he
nods his head knowingly.

Alisha stands off to the side with her arms
folded across her chest. I know how much she hates displays of
emotion, so I don't expect much more from her than a sermon on
what, and what not to do. She catches me off guard when she
unexpectedly wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. "I
really do love you like a brother. Don't do anything stupid and if
you're not back in two weeks, I'm coming to get you," she whispers,
in my ear, before planting her fist in my arm in a display of
affection. We stare at each other for a long time, before she
abruptly turns and orders everyone into the house.

***

"The only way to be a hundred percent sure
of who was flying the airplane is to wait for the DNA results,"
Bernie said before I left. She used her clout to dispatch military
helicopters to the crash site, and told the others that almost
everything of importance was recovered. Now she was working
directly with the National Transportation Safety Board
investigators to determine the cause of the accident. I want more
than anything to cling to the faintest ray of hope that the victim
of the airplane crash is someone other than Cat, even though the
evidence overwhelmingly points to her. It's been three days now and
there has been no sign of her anywhere. Brandon took it upon
himself to do his own investigation and tells me the air traffic
controller was ninety-nine percent sure that the person who radioed
the tower from her airplane was a female. The NTSB confirms the
aircraft N number was the one piloted by Cat. Yet, even as my brain
accepts, that she is dead, in the stillness of my heart, something
seems amiss and I can't quite figure out why.

The two undercover agents assigned to
protect her that day claimed that by the time they figured out she
was doing a solo flight and hired a pilot to fly them to Great
Falls, she was already gone.

***

Surprisingly, Bernie Stoddard was the one
who suggested that I get some time away, and then strongly defended
my decision against the protests of my housemates.

"Time and distance speeds the healing
process," she says and of course, her support of me leaving
immediately makes Elizabeth suspicious.

"And what happens if you need to deploy us
for a mission while he's gone?" she challenges Bernie.

Bernie had been warning us for some time
that our services would be needed in the very near future. Of
course, she couldn't give us details to the highly classified
operation, but did inform us that the CIA was monitoring suspicious
foreign activity.

"Elizabeth, I would never send any of you
out on a dangerous mission in the state of mind that he's in right
now," Bernie calmly replies, making Elizabeth blush with
embarrassment for even suggesting it.

Bernie has been hanging out at the Freeman
Estates ever since being notified of Cat's death and didn't seem to
be in any hurry to fly back home. She readily accepted the offer to
use my bedroom in my absence and checked out of her hotel on the
same day. To everyone except Elizabeth, she is considered as much a
part of our Designer family as Michael and Jason.

***

I didn't set out with a plan to travel back
to Montana; I just sort of ended up here. In fact, after leaving
the Freemans' I had every intention of traveling overseas, but one
of the pages in my passport had a tear in it, rendering it
temporarily invalid. It was only because Bernie made a few phone
calls that I was even allowed entry back in to the United States.
Bernie reassured me that the replacement passport would be
expedited and forwarded to anywhere I needed, so I could get back
to Canada if needed.

I arrive in Great Falls by evening and
aimlessly drive around, looking for a hotel. I'm not particularly
tired yet, but I couldn't pass through the city without stopping.
For me, it's the place where life began, the day I met Cataryn, and
for that reason, it would be held as a place of nostalgia. Without
any forethought, I end up in front of Tucker's house. It was only
fair that I tell him in person, but I have to force myself to get
out of the car. His mom answers the door and initially hesitates to
allow me entrance into their house. It isn't until I mention that
I'm Cat's husband that her eyes show signs of recognition and she
calls for Tucker.

Their small house is heavily decorated with
Christmas ornaments, giving it the look and feel of a little gift
shop. I am instantly reminded of the unopened boxes of decorations
stored at the Freeman estate. They were some of the few items Cat
had shipped from the Hurley house. She said they were family
heirlooms passed down from her mom and giggled when she admitted to
inheriting the Christmas bug from her mom's side of the family. She
already had huge plans to transform the Freeman house into a
Christmas wonderland, and even purchased several ornaments while we
were on our honeymoon. A wave of anxiety washes over me, as I have
a sudden urge to connect with Alisha to make sure that Cat's wishes
are honored and the house is properly decorated-for Claire's sake.
But the thought is temporarily interrupted when Tucker enters the
room.

"Hey Ronan, how are you buddy? What brings
you guys to town?" he asks enthusiastically, looking around for Cat
as he extends his hand out to shake mine.

When I don't respond, he takes a step back,
searching my face for an explanation. "Are you sick Ronan? Man, you
look terrible," he says, motioning for me to have a seat. When I
still don't respond he figures out something isn't right, and
glances around nervously.

"Ronan, where's Cat?"

I swallow hard, forcing the golf ball size
lump down my throat and silently shake my head, not trusting myself
to speak.

He staggers backwards, and plops down in a
chair, burying his head in his hands, moaning loudly.

"Oh God no! God no! Please tell me she's
okay?"