Don't Explain (29 page)

“Sometimes I feel like I will always have his shadow hovering over my
life.”

“Maybe it will always be there, but I think that you only let in as much
darkness as you want to.” They both sat in reflection for a few moments. He was
right; she needed to continue to move on without Michael. While it was painful now,
the more she moved on, the less sensitive she would be to it.

With tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, Caitlyn was
ready to change the subject. She was lucky to be here with this man tonight,
and she put Michael away where she had kept him for almost ten years, and
focused on the moment before her. “Thank you for dinner. It was really
delicious,” she glowed.

“Wasn't it? Eat here like three times a week. I went to college in the
Midwest, and I about died without seafood. I find that the closer you are to
the ocean the better the seafood is. I can't imagine the horrid food that you
must have had in Tucson.”

“I wouldn't say it was horrid, but it certainly didn't compare. It's
unfair to compare a chain restaurant to a place like this. Besides it's not as
far from the ocean as you would imagine. There is one on the other side of the
country,” she said, her eyes smiling.

“It's far enough away that I never really bothered to imagine it,” he said,
smiling at her. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah, sure.” Caitlyn was a little disappointed that the date was ending
so soon, but she grabbed her jacket and slung her purse over her shoulder ready
to go. Charles walked to Caitlyn and held both of her elbows in his hands. He
pulled her close to his body and leaned down and lightly kissed her on the
lips. Caitlyn melted under the warmth of his body. She raised her arms and
wrapped them around his neck delicately and for a few moments cherished being
with Charles.

He pulled away from her and looked at her intently, “You look a little
brighter.”

When they got to the hotel, Charles walked Caitlyn to the green door of
her room. The pair had sufficiently warmed up to one another and so he felt
comfortable pulling her into his arms tightly and kissing her hard. She was
lightheaded and quickly submitted to his intensity. She ran her fingers through
his hair, and he held her against the door, pushing his body against hers.

The feeling of being a teenager was engulfing her again, and her sense of
shame and propriety had completely escaped her mind. She was so caught up in
the moment that when an elderly woman walked by glaring at the couple's
performance, Caitlyn did not stop. She even stared back for a moment while
Charles was kissing her neck, and still she felt no pressure to break away from
him to please the old lady. She closed her eyes and just felt the waves of
pleasure pulsing through her.

He ran his hands down the length of her body and tickled the outside of
her thigh. She felt the strength of his chest against her and a strong pressure
told her that he was becoming aroused.

It wasn't until Charles suggested that they go into her room that she
realized the magnitude of the situation. She wanted to say yes, to continue
satisfying the craving she had for him to be with her, but before she could
think, she said no. A moment earlier this seemed like the natural progression
for both of them, but she couldn't do this with a new man quite so soon. She
kissed him on the mouth briefly several times in a row, the last time taking
his bottom lip with hers just for a moment.

“I do want to see you again, but I can’t do this so soon.”

Charles sighed. “Alright. I’m gonna call you though. So expect it.”

Caitlyn tilted her head to one side. “Really.”

“I promise, and I don’t break my promises.”

Caitlyn lunged forward into his body, and he caught her as she gently
caressed his mouth with hers.

“Goodnight,” she said and then slipped into her hotel room. She felt
immense relief. Not because she avoided having sex with Charles without
creating a scene, but because she realized her life could go on again without
Michael. She knew that Michael would be around, and she would occasionally have
to deal with Margaret, but she could live her own life. As she took off her
earrings and slipped off her dress she wished again that Michael had never
reappeared in her life or at least that she didn't let him take over her life
again. He would have gone back to Sacramento. She wouldn't have a daily
reminder of what she was missing, and he wouldn't have the ability to cause any
interference in her newfound peace and delight.

Caitlyn slipped her nightgown over her bare body and she shuddered with
pleasure remembering Charles's soft touches along the curves of her body. She
moved to the sink, and let the cool water run into her hands to splash over her
face. She let out a soft sigh of relief and patted her face dry with a towel.

After turning down her bed, she climbed in. An overwhelming sorrow came
over her suddenly, and for several moments she once again mourned the loss of
what she thought was the love of her life.

When she was done, she celebrated starting to get over him.

#

Caitlyn's voice had echoed through Michael's head for a day now. He
couldn't understand why she would say Margaret wasn’t pregnant if it wasn’t
true, but he didn't want to believe that Margaret would do something that
elaborate and callous after leaving him. He couldn't make sense of the reality.

He was sitting on the couch hovering over a box filled with DVDs. He
browsed the titles and noticed that there was not a single movie in that box
that he liked. They were all over-dramatic chick-flicks. He picked one up and
looked at it briefly before tossing it back into the box. This was the only
type of movie he watched anymore because it was what Margaret wanted to watch.
She wasn’t willing to compromise. Michael couldn't remember the last time they saw
a movie he wanted to watch. For a moment he wondered if he was being selfish
because he was confused and angry.

Michael heard the front door slam against the wall to announce Margaret's
arrival. She shouted up the stairs, “This is ridiculous. I have to drive twenty
minutes to get anywhere worthwhile.” The crinkling of plastic bags accompanied
her protest. She stopped at the top of the stairs and gave Michael puppy dog
eyes. “It’s not too late. Your practice has barely gotten off the ground. We
can still move back to Sacramento. I bet you could talk to Rob and get your job
back at the hospital. I’m still not sure why we moved here anyway.”

Without hesitation and before he could stop himself, Michael said, “Because
you left me.” Margaret’s eyes became wide before she hurried into the kitchen.
Michael followed her and watched as she silently put away the groceries.

“I thought we were past this,” she said without looking at him.

The heat of anger rose from his stomach to his face. He looked blankly at
the floor. “You left me. So, I started a new life in a new place and with new
people. Then you came back and told me that I have a responsibility to fulfill,
but that doesn't mean I had to go back to my old life.
You
left me.
You
have to deal with the consequences.” He spoke to her in a stern, low voice; one
that he had never used with her because he always tried to avoid fighting with
her. They had only had one real fight before about something so petty that he
couldn’t remember what it was, but it had reduce Margaret to tears. His heart
ached watching her cry, so he avoided confrontation with her the best he could,
and he was pretty good at it. Now, he couldn’t contain himself. He had to know
the truth, and Margaret fell into hysterics.

She sat in a kitchen chair, put her face in her hands, and began to cry. “Why
are you doing this to me? I'm carrying your child. Don't blame me for this.
That’s not fair because we each did our part. ”

Michael slowly raised his head and moved to sit next to Margaret. “Calm
down,” he said. He did not reach out or speak softly to comfort her. Margaret
continued to sob for a few more moments, but he just looked at her and said
nothing. She wiped her tears and sat up straight; it was as if nothing had
happened. In the past, if she hinted that she might cry Michael would give her
whatever she wanted to calm her down. She wasn’t going to get him to back down
today. He had to get some answers.

 She picked up her purse and started moving toward the other end of the
house. “Stop.” She followed his command but didn’t turn around to face him. “Before
we move forward any further, I need to know: are you having my child?”

“Excuse me?” Margaret whipped around and glared at Michael, but he remained
stoic.

He looked back at her and calmly said, “It's a simple question with a one
word answer. All I need right now is for you to answer it quickly and honestly.
Are you having my child?”

Margaret clenched her jaw, shifted her purse on her shoulder and crossed her
arms under her breasts. “Why would you ask me that?”

Michael was beginning to get angry. She was avoiding his question and was
confirming his worst fears. “I have a right to know if you are actually
carrying my child. I have completely changed my life for this baby. I need
proof that it exists.”

“I sent you the sound of its heartbeat. What more do you want?”

She began to leave again, but stopped when Michael asked, “When's your
next appointment?”

Margaret's eyes became wide. “I-I don't know.”

“I'm going with you. What's your doctor's phone number? I'll call and
find out when I should take you in. Give me your phone.”

“No. You can't do that.”

Michael stood up and walked over to her. “Why not?”

“That’s an invasion of privacy. I have a right to go alone.”

Michael held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Fine.” Margaret dug into her purse. “I don’t think the number is in my
phone. I’ve been using the office phone to make my appointments. It’s more
convenient.” She placed the phone in his palm.

“What’s your doctor’s name?”

“Fernandez. Louisa Fernandez.”

Michael navigated through the phone’s menu and pulled up the call log.
His head jerked back when he saw the first several entries. He scrolled down
the list and saw that she had been making calls to this number for months.

“What the hell is this? Why are you calling Rob Breyer at least three
times a day?”

Michael felt guilt wash over him. Maybe Margaret was really sick, but
when he looked up at her and saw the fear in her eyes, the guilt went away.

She didn't say anything. He could see her thinking and trying to come up
with something, and eventually she said, “I could be pregnant.”

Michael caught the rage in the back of his throat. “What the hell does
that mean?” Michael looked at her with a mixture of disbelief, rage, and
sadness. He’d have to get back to the phone calls, but right now he didn't want
to believe that someone would lie so deliberately, so selfishly, so completely.

Margaret shook her hands violently at the wrists. Her breath became
labored, and she went on the defense. “I
was
pregnant!”

“Explain.” Michael was growing angrier than he ever had been in his life.
He was unsure that he wanted to hear what she had to say. He didn't know if he
could believe anything she said.

Margaret struggled to come up with an explanation. She looked all around
the room but wouldn’t look directly at Michael. Every moment she took to delay
her story he believed her a little less. She looked over Michael’s shoulder
blankly. “I had a miscarriage. I didn't want to tell you because I thought you
would be angry.” Her voice was calm, but she wrung her hands tightly.

“When? When did you have the miscarriage?” He wasn't going to let her
lie.

“Right after I got here. It must have been the plane and the altitude,
but you were so nice to me. I couldn't tell you the truth.”

“I would have known, Margaret. I would have known if you had a
miscarriage while we were living in a 200 square-foot motel room. I think I
know you well enough to know that you would have freaked out if you were having
a miscarriage.”

She wasn't listening to his words and instead continued on with seemingly
scripted language. “I figured no one would notice if the baby was a little
late. We shouldn't have moved. I told you; we shouldn't have moved.”

“Margaret, if you had miscarried after you had gotten here I would have
known. If you had miscarried the doctor would have told you that you couldn’t
get pregnant again for a couple of months and that you wouldn't need ovulation
strips two weeks after getting here.”

“But I did, and if the baby was a little late...”

“Three months. You didn't think anyone would notice if you gave birth
three months late, if you were lucky enough to get pregnant right away.”

“But I...”

“Stop, Margaret.” He turned away from her and put his hands on his head. “You
lied to me. You left me, and I started a new life. Then you took my new life
and ruined it, for what? Why would you do this?” He voice was stern but soft.
He did not really want an answer; he was mostly trying to figure it all out in
his head.