Finding Cait (18 page)

Chapter 49

Matt

    
The afternoon had been a welcome relief.  When Cait asked me at lunch why
I wasn’t in her bed I thought I would scream at how crazy her wavering is
making me.  Like the old game played with flowers in school, I feel like
these past days have been one long chain of I love you, I love you not. 
At first I thought the truth was that she didn’t love me, that I had read all
of the signs wrong.  At lunch I knew she was just as torn up about what to
do as I had been all those years ago. 

    
Choosing to love is
dangerous,
it is out of your
control.  Giving your heart to someone hurts and leaves you vulnerable to
many painful what ifs.  Elliot took the heart of an innocent girl and
crushed it in a moment of weakness.  Her heart still needs time to recover
and trust again so I have to be patient.  Loving her is going to be easy,
getting her love in return is going to be the hard part. 

    
So much time has been wasted already and I can’t help but to hope that in the
end she chooses a life that has me in it.  Being just her friend will
never be enough but I won’t turn it down if that is all she can ever give
me.  Walking away from her that night so long ago just might have been the
biggest mistake of my life.  Now I know that I should have taken her hand
and led her across the street to my place.

    
Sex is not the answer and I know that, but maybe if I had shown her what it
feels like to truly be loved
she would have never been broken
by Elliot
.  I would have been her first everything
then  I
had been so afraid to take what wasn’t mine but
maybe I was wrong, maybe it has always been mine.

    
Something in this universe made her body call to me then and it has never
stopped.  The night that we did share together had confirmed what I had
always known: we were meant for each other in every way.  My body speaks to
hers and our touch to each other is electric.  Elliot has just been on
borrowed time, I have had her heart since that night on the beach and now I am
going to do whatever it takes to claim it again.  I will wait for her
forever if that is how long it takes.

Chapter 50

Cait
 

    
When night falls we both take our showers and then sit at the kitchen table
with the scraps of food we have found in the pantry.  I try my best and
get something down but mostly I just watch him eat.  When it is clear we
were not going to eat anymore we sit in the silence and wait for the other
person to speak.  I felt anxious inside, wanting him to come to bed with
me so I wouldn’t be alone but not having the courage to ask out of fear that it
would be a promise to him that I can’t keep. 

    
“Tell me what to do Cait,” he says with his arms folded on the table not
looking at me.  “Tell me what to do.”

    
I take a deep breath and the battle in my head begins, what my heart wants and
what my head says.  I don’t know which side I am on.  In the silence
he turns
to me and stares into my eyes looking for a clue as
to what I might be thinking
.  If he really knew what had been going
on my head these last few days I am sure he would be scared off.  I have
spent so many hours thinking of my final moments.

    
Before the situation between Matt and me had an idea of how my death would
go.  The plan was to see Court off and then use some of the medication
along with my own to end my life.  I have been saving up my prescriptions
for quite sometime.  I had planned on finding a small hotel, taking a bath
and then swallowing the pills so that even if they just knocked me out I would
still die when I drowned. 

    
I imagined that the staff would find me sometime the next morning and Elliot
would be notified of my death.  Sure he would be upset, but fuck him he
deserved it.  What he decided to do with my remains was fine with
me.  Elliot could even keep his affair a secret from his family and
pretend that his mourning had
lead
him to his
secretary.  Those that didn’t know of his infidelity would forgive
all. 

    
My plans had been the same when Matt entered the picture.  I figured that
he would eventually hear about my death, but probably years later and while he
was far away living his life.  The truth is he won’t always be lucky and
if he continues to volunteer to go over there chances are I would see him on
the other side soon enough.

    
I had toyed with the idea of swimming out to sea, letting the ocean carry away
my body so that no one has to take care of my remains.  Loving Matt makes
that impossible.  He knows I am a strong swimmer and he will never believe
that I would venture out farther than I could safely return.  Perhaps he
will think there was foul play, or worse yet I will never be found and he will
always wonder how I can go on with my life without him.

    
Suicide is complicated.  I know this from my years of experience with
emotionally disturbed clients.  Unless they are truly successful, someone
always gets hurt.  Having no family and very few friends gave me false
hope that no one would come looking for me or feel my absence when I was
gone.  Now I have found a connection with Matt, one that I know he will
not quickly forget.

    
Killing myself would mean that I knowingly took a part of Matt also.  I
would have to be sure my body was found and that he felt no responsibility in
my death.  How could he not now, our lives so dependent on each other at
this
moment.
  The question I am asking myself at
this moment is not whether or not to die, but whether or not he could survive
my death.

    
  “I don’t know what to do either,” I finally say and he puts his head in
his hands out of frustration or relief, I am not sure. 

    
“Then I will decide for both of us.”  He stands up from the table and once
again extends his hand to mine, “Let’s go to bed.”  I give him my hand and
we walk down the hall to my room.  I climb into the bed and he follows me,
wrapping his arms around me and sliding me closer so that his warmth envelops
me again.      “I love you Cait,” he says softly and then
kisses my shoulder. The two of us lay there for a few minutes and when my eyes
feel so heavy I can’t keep them open I drift off to sleep as he holds me. 
I cannot remember a time that I slept so soundly, sharing the weight that had
been torturing my heart.

   
  Matt and I wake up to the sound of his phone ringing and glance at
the clock to see it is past 9am.  He unwraps himself from me and searches
for where the ringing is coming from and then perches on the edge of the bed
and answers in a raspy voice, “Hello.”  I wonder who it is as I lay there
but when his answers are short and direct I know it must be the coroner with
information about Court’s ashes.  Matt speaks with him and from what I can
get from the one side of the conversation I know her ashes are ready to be
picked up. 

    
When the conversation is over he turns off his phone and then
lays
back on the bed.  He extends his arm over me
again, inviting me to
lay
on his chest and I
accept.  He rests his chin on my head and we lay for a moment, absorbing
what he has just been told and thinking about what the day will bring us. 
“We can go get them anytime,” Matt says as he brushes his hand through my
hair. 

    
“That was faster than I thought it would be.”

    
“I know, me too.” We lay there letting the reality that our final moments
together with Court are about to happen. “Are you ready?” he asks me, sounding
unsure if he is
ready
himself. 

    
“As I will ever be I guess.”  I lift my head and look him in the
eyes.  “After we get them, what are we going to do until sunset?”  I
suddenly feel like we need to fill the space in between as if we would just
waste valuable time sitting around looking at the box that holds her
remains. 

    
“Anything we want.  Let’s get her and then decide.”  We get out of
bed and I head for the shower.  I hear my phone ringing now and smile to
myself knowing that we had spent the past two days cut off from the world
around us, phones laying useless in piles on the floor.  I hear where the
ring is coming from and answer it just before it was going to go to
voicemail. 

    
“Hello.”  I say trying to place the number as I wait for a response.

    
“Cait, it’s Candy.”

    
“Hey Candy, how are you?”

    
“I’m fine, how are you guys?” I can hear the concern in her voice.

    
“We are hanging in there.  We just got the call that her ashes are ready
so we are going to pick them up today and carry out her wishes tonight.” 
I say the sentence expecting to cry but I don’t.  I am calmer than I have
been in days.

    
“That’s great,” she replies sounding relieved.  I am suddenly curious why
she is calling. “Cait, can I come over?  I have something for you guys
that Courtney made me promise to give to you before you scattered her ashes.” 
My heart sinks.  I have no idea what she might be talking about, but the
hope that there is still a piece of her left for us to discover brings on a new
feeling of excitement with the sadness that has just found its place back in my
heart.

    
“Of course.  The ride into town shouldn’t take too long so how about you
stop by around 11?”

    
“Thank you, I will see you both then.”  She hangs up and I stand there for
a minute not sure what to do next. 

    
I hear Matt yell from the other bathroom, “Is everything okay? Who was
that?” 

    
“Candy.” I yell down the hall and then make my way to where he is so I don’t
have to shout the rest of the information.  He has just gotten out of the
shower so I lean up against the doorframe and watch him as he runs his fingers
through his wet hair.  “She has something for us from Court.”  He
stops and looks at me waiting for me to continue.

“She made her
promise to give it to us before we scattered her ashes.”

    
“I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.”  I felt the same way he
did but I just nod.

    
“I told her to meet us here at 11.  We should be back by then.”

    
“Now we will make sure of it.”  He goes back to fixing his hair and I
return to my bathroom to take my shower.  This time it’s quick, I don’t
feel the need to have the water rinse away anything.  I am devastated that
I will be scattering her ashes and saying goodbye for the last time, but I am
at peace with her death.  I’m not doing this alone.  I get dressed
and meet Matt in the living room.  His scent is starting to be so familiar
to me, comforting. 

    
We hold hands as we drive to the coroners and he takes my hand again as we walk
in to get her remains.  The building is old and comes very close to how I
imagined a coroner’s office would be.  The front door seems heavy as Matt
holds it open for me and the smell of cleaner fills the air inside.  So
this is what death becomes, sterile and business like.

    
They asked for her name and then make us sign a release after checking our
ID’s.  The woman behind the counter tells us she is sorry for our loss and
slides the small dark box across the counter, meeting our eyes for a moment and
then turning back to the work she was doing when we had walked in. Morbidly, I
wonder how many people she has released to their relatives.  This side of
dying feels so depressing to me, people handling other humans raw from a loss
of their loved ones. 

Chapter 51

Matt

    
There it is.  The box is smaller than I remember them being, my only other
point of reference being the box that contained my parents’ ashes and the small
box from my dream.  I can remember the day they were given to me as if any
young child should ever be given the task of scattering their parents’
ashes.  I don’t even know who signed for them but someone must have
because the box found it’s way to my hands. 

    
Court and I held on to the box for a while, wanting to keep our parents with us
any way we could.  The box began to get worn on the edges as we moved from
house to house.  When we finally ended up here we kept it in my room until
we could decide what they would have wanted us to do with it.  For three
years it sat in my room until the night that Cait came with Court and me down
to the beach and we opened the box at the shoreline releasing them into the ocean. 
It had been Court’s idea. 

    
That night, Court told us that she thought it was time to let them go. She told
us that since we always seemed to think of them while floating in the tide, it
felt right for her to have what was left of them there with her too.  When
we returned to our houses we agreed to meet up again later that evening when
Court could sneak back over.  Together we had a small service.

    
Being the older child I remembered more about my parents, what they liked and
even how they had met.  Sharing what I could remember, I told the girls
that they were amazing parents and I would never allow anyone to replace
them.  Court shared what she remembered about them as well.  She
cried as she recalled my mother.

    
Court’s memories of my mother were the same as I remembered.  My mother
was beautiful.  She used to pick us up from school and take us to get ice
cream.  We would talk about our days and she hung on every word like
nothing was more important than what we had to say.  I remember feeling so
loved and important to her.

    
During the summer she would drive us to the beach.  She made sure we were
strong swimmers and would let us play in the surf for hours while my father was
at work. Some mornings we would leave our house early, arriving at the beach
before most people had even begun their day.  The fog would be covering
the shoreline and ocean seemed calmer at that time. 

    
My mother would swim with us past the breaking waves and then teach us to float
on our backs.  She knew that most children drowned because they would
panic even if they were strong swimmers.  She taught us to relax and not
fight the water but instead let it float us.  We would practice for hours
until the tide picked up and we rode it into shore.

    
Our father was also a positive influence, but he worked a lot of hours. 
It is with him that we learned to float in the darkness.  As a teenager he
had been a surfer, releasing all his feelings on the waves as he rode them down
the shoreline.  Even as he served our country after high school, he still
found time to keep surfing.  After marrying our mother, he continued to
surf, but needing to work to provide for her cut into the time he could spend
surfing.  My father never complained, loving my mother madly and willing
to give up some of what he loved to have her.

    
On nights that he got home late but the surf was still high he would pack us up
and we would head down to the beach.  He would swim with us to where the
waves were crashing down and then coach us to swim when the big ones rolled
in.  I can still remember the force behind me as I caught a wave and body
surfed onto the shore.  Court was so little that he would hold her hand,
pulling her along with him on the smaller sets.

    
Although we didn’t have family to visit, I never noticed an absence as each of
my parents made up for us not having grandparents.  My mother did not work
so that she could take care of us and on the days she was sick my dad would
call into work.  When the secretary at our school sent a note to our
classrooms asking that we come to the office one Tuesday morning, I knew
something was wrong.

    
I found Court in the hallway and pulled her aside.  I told her no matter
what she wasn’t to leave my sight.  I warned her that these types of situations
usually did not end well but she needed to be strong in front of the
principle.  She nodded her head in agreement and we walked hand in hand to
the office to hear our news.

    
My mother had picked my father up from work so they could go to lunch like
always on Tuesdays.  They had left the parking lot and driven towards the
small diner where the waitress knew their orders.  Their car entered a
busy intersection and an elderly man, who was unconscious from a heart attack,
struck their car.  The car was spun around and stopped when it hit a
tree.  I later found out that my mother was killed instantly but my father
had been a live when the ambulance arrived. 

    
My father was screaming her name and trying to pull her out of the car. 
When the rescue unit made him sit down to be checked he told them where we
were.  My father died on the way to the hospital from internal bleeding
and the rest is history.

    
After Court and I shared everything that we could remember, we made a promise
to our parents that we would always remember them at least once a year. 
As we got older that call gravitated to Christmas but that night it was just an
open promise to remember them.     

    
The next evening we all rode our bikes down to the beach like usual only this
time the ride there was far more somber.  We did not race for the crashing
waves like we usually did but instead walked carefully down the sand until our
feet were slightly submerged in the shallow water.  We said our goodbyes
and let them go.  The wind carried the ashes into the water and some
drifted up onto the sand.  I know that must be why Court wants to be there
to, hopeful to be with my parents in some way.

    
Looking at the box, I feel so many emotions.  I miss my sister and the
ache is deep, but I am also relieved she isn’t suffering anymore.  I will
forever carry the guilt of praying God take her as we watched her suffer that
final night.  Gratitude is also finding its way into my heart because I
was able to say goodbye and spend her final days with her.  Sorrow is the
heaviest as I look up to see Cait processing her emotions, neither of us
reaching for that small box.

    
The coroner’s office is quiet now as people pretend not to notice our
hesitation.  They must be thinking we are weak, that we can’t bring
ourselves to touch this precious box.  They don’t know how wrong they are,
that we have sat with her dying and have survived, now we just need to take our
time to gather our thoughts before saying goodbye forever.  I reach out
and take the box knowing that Cait has not found the strength yet. 
Reminding myself to breath, I hand it to her and meet her eyes with mine,
giving her permission to take it.