Meet Cate (15 page)

When Mike arrived early the next morning, Cate was dressed and ready. She sat at the granite kitchen island with Merry, sipping hot coffee contentedly. Her hand lazily stroked the big dog's fluffy black head, one leg kicked back and forth below her. She was staring out the French doors, looking north.

"Where do you want to go?" Mike asked Cate now.

She turned to him, thoughtful and calm, "Somewhere with a big jacuzzi−"

Mike's eyes strayed to the expansive deck beyond the French doors and Cate's laughed in response.

"−a warm bed, fresh muffins and a beautiful view."

"She only asks so much," he told Merry. The dog's head cocked inquisitively and she tapped her tail once in response. "You're sure you don't want to just stay here?"

"I'm sure."

"Then let's go."

They left Mike's Camaro in the driveway, packing Cate's Wrangler with supplies, their bags, food and water.

"Up!" Cate called at last and the big dog pounced, anticipating.

Cate climbed behind the wheel. Pulling out of the drive, taking one left and two rights, she headed northeast on the highway.

"We're just driving?" she asked Mike, who was poking through her  collection of CD's.

"Sure," he answered without looking up.

After an hour, she pulled into a quiet rest-stop. Parking behind the small, deserted building, she climbed out. Gesturing to Merry, Cate walked the big dog through the trees quickly after pouring a splash of water in her shiny, stainless-steel dish. Cate gave the excited girl time to sample the cool water and sniff the immediate area then hooked her back into the Jeep. Mike waited for Cate to scoop the big bowl back up and stow it. Together they walked toward the store.

Inside, Cate bought a peppermint cocoa and a Mountain bar. Mike bought two bars and a coffee.

In the parking lot again, Cate tossed her keys to Mike. He adjusted the seat quickly and climbed in.

Navigating the exit, Mike merged onto the quiet freeway and settled back.

"What's your biggest fear?" he asked, casually surveying the rearview.

"Why?" Cate looked over. "Is it behind us?"

Mike's mouth twitched, but he waited.

Cate looked toward the fabric ceiling, kicking her flip flops off and stretching her jean-clad legs out in front of her. Popping her pedicured toes on the dash, twitching and bumping them against the window, she considered.

Mike knew there would be tiny toe prints later, where her bare feet had smudged the glass. He also knew, without looking, that Cate's toes were painted the color of meadow flowers. Her jeans were faded and she'd hooked a soft blue sweatshirt loosely around her, covering a clean white tee. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun. Little curls escaped, framing her face in gentle waves and sailing over the back of her neck.

Mike contained the urge to gently tug on them. He knew they'd feel soft as a whisper and smell like coconut. His hands fisted on the steering wheel.

"I don't know, my children hurting? Losing them," Cate decided. She adjusted aviator sunglasses, glancing right as scenery flashed by.

"You don't worry about losing this?" he asked, gesturing.

"What, this trip?"

"No, this life you've created."

"Such pretty words out of you, Mike," Cate laughed softly. "No, I don't."

Mike just watched the road. Dark, close sunglasses hid any hint of his eyes. His blonde hair blew gently in the breeze from the open window. He wore button-fly jeans that fit well. A black t-shirt covered his torso, the short sleeves tight on his biceps. His face was closely shaved and he smelled clean and crisp.

"What?" she asked finally.

"You've worked hard. You don't think about what if?"

"Only enough to know what will be, will be. If the bottom falls out, there must be something better coming. And what could be better than this?" Cate was digging in her bag for a stick of gum. She clutched one side of the voluminous fabric in a fist, while the other hand poked freely with determination, combing past a hairbrush, her wallet and a notepad. "Nothing. So, I'm okay either way."

Mike nodded once, his mouth set.

Cate, finding what she wanted, held the package out to him. "Your greatest fear?"

"I don't know," he answered. His left hand crossed over the right, holding the wheel, as he reached for a stick of gum. After glancing once at the package she held, then lifting briefly to hers, his eyes never left the road again. "Thanks."

Cate nodded, moving on. "Biggest..." she paused, one finger to her lip.

Mike chose to address the previous question, turning his head to look her dead in the eye once more. "Losing you."

Cate burst out laughing. Controlling herself, she hiccuped. Mike's jaw was set, his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses.

"I knew you'd like that," he said, resolute.

"You're just what I needed, Mike," Cate told him, looking out the window as they crossed the border. "Let's stop and take a picture, okay?"

Swinging the wheel, Mike aimed for the exit she pointed at. A huge sign welcomed them across the the state line. He drove down the one-lane road, passing tractor trailers, buses and other vehicles. Finding a parking spot, he pulled in, pushing the Jeep into first gear and turning the key. Climbing out, he rolled the window down part way for Merry, locked the door and pocketed the key.

"Look at this view!" Cate exclaimed, her arms wide. Nature brought her peace and made her forget everything else.

A deep hill stood before them, rolling and falling a mile below in layers of green. Neat pastures dotted with late-year meadow flowers in faded purple and bright yellow met full, lush trees coated in brilliant reds and yellows, their colors peaking beautifully.

"Want to pitch a tent right here?" Mike teased.

"I would
love
to!"

Mike laughed and took her in, his eyes sweeping from the tip of her chestnut-colored head to her little, painted toes and back again. Cate stood in awe, staring, pictures forgotten. Her open sweatshirt blew out behind her. The flips flops she'd remembered, for once, sat neatly under matching toes the exact color he'd imagined. She'd call it violet, lavender plum, or some name like Midnight Fantasia Madness. For his reference he thought of it as purple. The sun brought out the natural streaks in her hair. As wave after wave blew free, her hand shot up, impatiently pulling it back and away from her soft skin, peeling each lock off as it playfully grabbed at her face in the breeze. Her cheeks glowed, rosy, and her eyes were excited as she turned to him.

Farmland, he remembered. Cate was home. "Let's go find you a farmer," he tugged at her shoulder. "Then you two can run away together."

"Why are you so obsessed with my love life lately?" Cate allowed herself to be pulled toward the rest area, where there was a small outdoor restaurant.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not. Do you want to fight or do you want a milkshake?" Mike reached around to slide his wallet from a back pocket.

"This isn't a fight," Cate answered lightly, checking the menu for chocolate.

"Two chocolate shakes," Mike ordered, before she could find it.

"Do you know who owns this property?" Cate asked the young boy behind the counter.

"The state, I think," he told her, not looking up from his pad. He pushed glasses back closer to large eyes with two of his fingers. "Two shakes, okay."

Mike paid, handing Cate the first shake and a napkin, their fingers brushing.

"I'm sorry we fought,
dear
," she smirked at him, delighted with the tall, frothy milkshake.

Mike just grinned.

Cate and Mike lucked out, finding a beautiful lakeside cabin to share with Merry at the last minute. Stopping for gas, Cate had inquired, only to find the station owner, Sam, had a vacant place.

Such small town life appealed to her, Cate thought, as she drove the slim, winding road, following the directions Sam had given her. Merry panted and whined, as if she knew that their destination loomed. Tall pines sat close to the wet, leaf-covered path, along with bare trees in various stages of undress. Only a few sporadic leaves were still covered in red and orange coloring; most littered their way. The sun shone through uneven branches, choosing only to light brief spots then dance on, seemingly unaware.

Cate inched along, stretching forward and squinting, not used to the forest's quiet light. Spying an opening, she pulled forward into a secluded clearing full of tall pines. Their high branches reached outward majestically, their trunks were knobby and exposed.

"I think−" Cate bit her lip. "Is this it?"

Cate had paused the Jeep near a tidy wooden marker. Mike held up the small piece of lined paper Sam had passed him. The number thirteen, scrawled in blue ball point with a shaky, older hand, matched the carving on the wood scrap nailed to a post.

Cate pulled forward, admiring. Parking out of the way of the trail (although it seemed they could be the only two people for miles), Cate climbed out of the Jeep, stretching each leg with a satisfied groan. She clasped her hands and stretched her arms overhead gracefully, observing a hawk circle lazily, a silhouette in the sun.

Glancing back at Mike, Cate walked toward the house, shielding her eyes from the glare with the flat of her hand. Layers of leaves crunched underfoot, warm from the sun. The scent of them mingled with pine in the crisp, clean air. She breathed in deeply, appreciative. If the lake had a smell, it would be peace, she decided.

The cabin, a cozy, close log home built of light beams, showcased tall windows full of afternoon light, overlooking the water. Her eyes focused on the beautiful, gracious stone chimney. Stairs led from the dense woods to a ample deck that crept halfway around the house.

Before them stretched the lake, reflecting the sun's warmth serenely. The water was still. It only stirred in answer to a single kayak gently bobbing in the distance. The overall feeling was the one of peace, but also: calm.

Inside the building, the rooms felt airy because of enormous windows that looked out over the spacious, wooden deck to the water and beyond. The log walls shone beautifully, highlighted by a few carefully placed pieces of furniture. Bright throw pillows accented the space, agreeing with a colorful, circular rug that lined the floor. A neat bathroom adjoined the first of two snug bedrooms, both with thick quilts. The second was above them, tucked under cozy eaves at the rear of the house.

In the kitchen, older white appliances were spotless. The thick butcher block table sat neatly waiting. A matching wooden bowl was placed in the center, full of crisp, red apples and ripening bananas.

"How did he−?"

"He told me he comes up here once a week," Mike grinned. Ad libbing, he added, "For peace." He automatically ducked the swat that was coming, smiling wider to himself.

Mike and Cate unpacked leisurely. Merry inspected every corner of the house, her wet nose agreeably sniffing. Content, she climbed up in a chair and curled up into a tight ball, watching Cate's movements in the kitchen with curious, half-asleep eyes.

Cate, meanwhile, was happily poking in cabinets. Finding a small counter-top grill and a nearly antique toaster, she smiled. Setting up the drip coffeemaker, finding a classic rock station on her phone, she began to feel very much at home.

For the next several days, Cate and Mike slept deliciously late, ate immense breakfasts they cooked together, and hiked with Merry. At night, they watched the sun set quietly over the water, all blues and reds and oranges, then sat before a roaring fire.

The crisp air did wonders for Cate's heart. The views refilled her with a calm she hadn't felt since the summer. Peace filled her heart as she sat quietly, able to be still in her brain for longer periods now.

Early one morning, she packed her few small bags and set them by the thick oak door. Wearing black track shorts and a layering a few light sweatshirts over her t-shirt; sneakers over low, white sport socks; Cate tied her hair back, out of her way. She adjusted her ear buds then popped her phone into its armband. Stretching against the wooden deck railing, Cate took off for a run with Merry.

Slowing to a walk as she circled the lake road, Cate rounded out the thoughts that had teased the edges of her brain all week.

The idea of being pampered appealed to her, she decided. She knew well enough how to indulge herself. Cate didn't usually have a hollow leg for kindness or validation; she only felt vulnerable when Tom pushed her away. It was a cycle, and she felt herself fall for it every time.

When she was tired, Cate felt exhausted. And yet, she knew instinctively what she needed. Often times, doing something special for herself, something she enjoyed, fueled Cate as much as extra sleep might. She was hit with waves of understanding that became clearer the longer she thought about them. Epiphanies accompanied endorphins, bringing her joy the longer she walked, alone with her thoughts. She wasn't tired anymore, now she felt elated, inspired.

She had needed care. Cate had longed for pampering. She didn't need Tom for that, in fact, she didn't want Tom for that. She didn't want anyone to be in charge of that role for her. Stopping to watch the gentle ripples a pair of kayakers created, Cate realized the truths that she'd been searching for.