The House of Roses (17 page)

“
We're good, Mom,” Caitlin said, and she noticed Nathan had grown quiet again. “How are you, Nathan?” Caitlin asked, after Rita had returned to the shop. “How are you really?”

“
Rotten,” he said. “I'd heard the second and third year were worse. It's true,” he said sadly. “Honestly, I'm lonely.”

“
I'm so sorry,” Caitlin said, reaching for his hand. “I'm lonely, too,” she whispered.

He pulled away suddenly, and Caitlin jumped. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm not used to being touched.”

“
That's very sad,” Caitlin whispered, and Nathan sighed.

“
Did I ever tell you that Patti and I broke up right before we got engaged?” he asked.

“
No.”

“
She said she wanted to talk about a future together, but I was too stubborn, so she broke up with me.”

“
She did?”

“
Yup. I cried myself to sleep for a week, bought a diamond, went to see her, and begged her to take me back.”

“
She said yes,” Caitlin said, and although it wasn't a question, Nathan nodded.

“
She always said I was too indecisive,” he explained.

“
Is that true?”

“
I don't know,” he said with a chuckle, and Caitlin smiled. They were both quiet for several seconds, and when Nathan turned to look at Caitlin, she noticed his eyes looked  sad again. “That's why when they came to me and said there was nothing more they could do, I told them to turn off the machines. For once in my life, I didn't want to be indecisive.”  Nathan wiped a tear from his eye, and sniffed loudly. “It was so hard to see Patti like that. Harder, I think, than it was for me to let her go.”

“
I'm so sorry, Nathan. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you then. I wish I could make it up to you.”

“
Just don't think about getting me a cat to make it up to me.”

“
I'd never do that. I like you too much,” she assured him.

They both sipped their coffee for a moment, until Caitlin broke the silence.

“
Nathan?”

“
Yeah?”

“
How hard was it for you to see Ella like that?”

“
Awful. The first time I looked at her I damn near fainted. It was like seeing Patti all over again.”

“
I can imagine. God, Nathan, I hope Ella will be okay,” Caitlin said softly.

“
I need her to be okay,” Nathan said, sounding broken. “I just stood there watching her and thinking of how amazing it is that someone can be so battered and still fight to live,” Nathan said.

“
I know,” Caitlin agreed. “I don't think we realize the value of life until we're fighting for it.”

“
I started wondering if maybe she'd just let go, if she'd want to be with her parents, and with Charles,” Nathan offered, and Caitlin just looked at him.

“
Charles?” she said softly.

“
Did she ever tell you about him?”

“
I think she did. A long time ago I asked her about her ring, the one she wears on the chain around her neck. She told me she was in love once. She never told me anything else, or even his name. God, I think I was still a kid. Do you know anything about him?” Caitlin asked.

“
He was her first love. Her only love. He died really young, in an accident, I think Mom said. Ella was devastated.”

“
God, that's horrible,” Caitlin said, feeling sorry for her mother's friend and the love she'd lost. “Is that why she never married?” she asked.

“
I think so. She told me there was never anyone else, only him. I've always felt sad for her. It's hard to be alone,” Nathan offered.

“
Do you believe that, Nathan?  Do you believe there could never be anyone else?”

“
Patti would want me to find someone else. We actually talked about it.”

“
So did we,” Caitlin offered.

A sound from the doorway caught their attention and they both turned.

“
Georgie!” Caitlin said with delight.

The cat took two timid steps into the room, and made eye contact with the adversary seated at Caitlin's side. He eyed Nathan suspiciously and backed up toward the doorway, before hissing loudly and taking off in a run.

“
Jeez,” Caitlin said.

“
I love you, too!” Nathan called.

Caitlin refilled her coffee cup and Nathan's without asking, and they sat for several minutes sipping the steaming liquid, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Finally Nathan broke the silence. “Cate, can I ask you something?” he said, sounding wistful.

“
Of course.”

“
Do you still love Colin?”

“
Yes, I do.”

“
Then find your way back to him,” he offered with a weak smile. “Ella said love is the only thing that matters.”

“
I think Ella might be right, Nathan.” 

Twenty

Colin Thomas stepped off of US Airways flight 1157 in Spokane, Washington, just as night began to descend. He retrieved his bag from the baggage claim, and strolled out into the evening.

He opened the worn wallet, and took out a small piece of paper tucked behind his Visa, then flipped open his cell phone and dialed the numbers, amazed at how nervous he was. His aunt answered on the third ring. Before she spoke, he could hear barking in the background, and he suppressed the urge to hang up, giving in to his cowardice.

“
Aunt Sadie?” he said, feeling like a small boy.

“
Colin?” she replied, and Colin stifled a sob with his free hand.

“
Yes,” he said softly.

“
How are you, son?” she asked.

“
I'm well. I'm in Spokane. I'd like to see you,” he said softly.

“
I can meet you,” she offered, and he smiled. “It's getting late though, and I don't care for driving at night. How long are you here?”

Colin ignored her question and spoke bravely. “I could come to you,” he offered.

“
I still have Tiger,” she said.

“
I think it's time I made peace with him,” Colin said softly, and he could almost hear his aunt smile on the other end of the phone.

“
I think that would be good,” Aunt Sadie said.

“
Me, too.”

“
I just started dinner.”

“
I could eat,” Colin said, as his stomach growled in agreement.

“
Well, come on over then. It's about time you came home.”

Colin said a few more words before ending the call. His aunt was right. It was about time.

He climbed into a taxi and gave the driver his aunt's address. The city of Spokane passed by his window as they drove, but Colin didn't notice. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. As the taxi moved through the downtown streets, he was lost in the recesses of his memory, and the scenery he saw was a more dated version of what lay before him. Ten minutes later the taxi driver arrived at the address his passenger had offered.

The street looked exactly the same, and Colin paid the driver, and heard the taxi drive away. He stood looking at the little house for several minutes. Slowly he walked up the driveway. He was a grown man, for crying out loud. How could a small dog scare him so?  It was hard to make peace with one's past, and he was facing his head on, as he stepped up to the door and knocked timidly.

His aunt opened the door and Colin looked into her smiling face. She'd aged, as he had, but he would have known her anywhere. She was only twelve years his senior, born late in the lives of her parents, and almost seventeen years after her sister, Colin's late mother.

“
Hi, Aunt Sadie,” he said, as she held the door. He paused for only a moment before stepping inside.

“
Colin,” she said, as she reached out to hug him. “You look good.”

“
So do you,” he replied, as he stepped back so she could look at him more closely.

“
You still look like a kid,” she said, and he chuckled.

“
I don't know about that,” he offered, glancing around the house.

It appeared to have changed little over the years, but the orange shag carpet was gone, replaced by a handsome Berber, and the fireplace had been updated. Family photos lined the mantle, many of them memories of Colin's own past.

A small dog appeared in the kitchen doorway and Colin inhaled sharply.

“
He looks different,” Colin whispered, and his aunt turned.

“
That's not him,” she said, as a second dog appeared behind the first. “That's him,” Aunt Sadie said, as Colin dropped to his knees. The dog was a terrier mix, a handsome mutt with a wiry brown and black coat. His deep brown eyes stared back at Colin.

“
Hey, Tiger,” Colin said, in little more than a whisper. He suppressed the urge to cry as he beckoned to the dog. Tiger approached cautiously, and then, as if sensing the magnitude of the moment, stopped. “It's okay,” Colin said, and only then did his tears come. Suddenly he laughed, and the dog jumped. He'd startled him. “I've become quite a crybaby these last couple of days,” Colin said, standing when the dog wouldn't come to him.

“
No shame in crying, son,” his aunt said, and Colin smiled as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

“
He hates me,” Colin said, looking at the dog who still stood several feet from him.

“
He's a dog, Colin. He doesn't understand. He probably just senses the tension. It's hard to face the past.”

“
No kidding.”

“
Would you like some coffee?” Aunt Sadie asked.

“
That would be good,” Colin said graciously.

“
Give him a minute. He'll warm up to you.”

Colin followed his aunt into the kitchen, and as he did, he noticed she had updated most of the house. It was different than he remembered, but in many ways the same, and hauntingly familiar.

The coffee mug steamed on the table in front of him, and his aunt took the chair opposite his. She looked at him for several seconds before speaking.

“
It was never really about the dog, Colin, was it?” she asked, and Colin inhaled sharply. She knew how to start with the hard questions. She always had. In that way she was like her sister.

“
He was an easy scapegoat,” Colin admitted, and his aunt smiled.

As if on cue, the little dog rounded the table and sat at his feet. He stared at the animal for several seconds before patting his lap invitingly. The dog paused, but only for a moment, and then, as if sensing the truce being offered, the wiry mutt jumped into Colin's lap.

“
Is this okay?” Colin asked, respectful of his aunt.

“
I think it's great,” she whispered.

The dog sat on Colin's lap and stared at him. “I forgive you,” Colin whispered, looking at the dog, his aunt, then back at the dog. The dog looked at him with sad eyes and Colin heard his aunt weeping softly.

The dog, seemingly sensing the man's sadness, whimpered softly, and Colin scratched his head gently. “I miss them, too,” Colin whispered, bending down to kiss the dog's tiny head.

“
So do I,” Aunt Sadie said, standing and heading to the bathroom for a box of  Kleenex.

When she returned a moment later, she saw a grown man hugging a small dog to his chest, and weeping for the parents he'd lost. She smiled at them through her tears as she watched silently from the doorway.

“
It's just who they were, Colin,” she explained, and Colin sniffed loudly.

“
I know,” he said, taking the box of Kleenex from her. “I don't think I ever really dealt with their deaths,” he admitted, and his aunt nodded.

“
You left so quickly after the funeral. There was so much I wanted to say to you,” she said, and Colin sighed.

“
It was too hard,” he said, and she nodded.

“
I know. I was here,” Aunt Sadie said, and Colin grimaced. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound the way it did.”

“
It's okay. I deserved that.”

“
I needed you, Colin. I lost them, too,” she said, and he felt his tears come again.

“
I couldn't let myself need you. I couldn't even let myself feel anything.”