Cat #2
I can’t believe it’s December. It’s snowing outside. Steve told me you guys are already snowed in, so today’s snow made me think of you. But then again, everything makes me think of you. I can’t wait
I set my phone down and grab my copy of Wuthering Heights. I have a report due on it the Friday before Christmas break and am slowly struggling through the book. I just haven’t been in the mood to read a love story.
My mom returns from her trip to the store an hour later. I decide to help her unpack the groceries, welcoming the excuse to put down the novel.
“How about I grate the cheese?” I say as I walk into the kitchen.
“That would be perfect.” My mom sets a sizeable block of gouda on the counter and smirks at me. “I see you’re wearing Ronan’s sweater again.”
“It makes me feel closer to him,” I say with a small shrug and open one of the kitchen drawers to retrieve the cheese grater.
“I get it,” she says, bustling about the kitchen. “Use up all the cheese, please. We’re going to have some company.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Who?”
“I ran into my very best friend from high school while I was at the grocery store,” my mom says. “I haven’t seen her in years! We both moved away after high school, and then, boom, I just ran into her. I can’t even believe it. Anyway, I invited her and her boyfriend to have lasagna with us tonight.”
I smile at my mom’s happiness. “That’s awesome,” I say, and get to grating the cheese while my mom makes the sauce for the lasagna. Once that’s done, I begin layering the sheets of pasta and sauce, topping everything off with mounds of cheese and sour cream.
“What time is your friend getting here?” I ask when my mom slides the lasagna into the oven.
“Should be any minute now.” She wipes her hands on a dish towel. “I told her five-thirty would be good so we can chat a little bit before we eat.”
“Do you want me to change?” I’m comfortable in what I’m wearing, but I want to make a good impression.
“No need, sweet pea. Stay the way you are. You’re always beautiful, even when you look homeless.”
“Hey, I don’t look homeless,” I protest, but laugh. “I’m going to at least put on some jeans, but I’m not taking off Ran’s sweater.” I skip up the stairs to my room. It takes me exactly a minute to get out of my PJ bottoms and back into my jeans.
The doorbell rings just as I step off the staircase to head back into the kitchen. “I’ll get it,” I call out.
My heart stops and I inhale sharply when I open the front door and Frank is standing on the stoop.
My palms are instantly clammy. “Is Ran okay?” is the first thing out of my mouth. Has Frank come to tell me that something terrible happened, like police do when they share bad news with family?
“Cat!” Frank is obviously surprised to see me. “Uh, yeah, Ran’s fine. I mean, yeah, he’s okay. Wait, are we at the right house?”
It’s only then that I notice Frank’s girlfriend, Penny, standing right next to him.
I’ve been around Penny quite a bit these past few weeks. I spend time with Vada at Steve’s not only after school but also on the weekends, which is usually when Penny makes the six-hour drive from Virginia to spend a couple of days with Frank. It took some getting used to her being in Ronan’s home and seeing how affectionate Frank is with her. After all, I’m well aware that Frank and Penny’s relationship was actually an extramarital affair—an affair that Ronan had apparently suspected for a while and that may or may not have been the catalyst for the near-fatal encounter Ronan had with his mom last August.
Penny’s lovely, though. She’s so nice, so sweet, her demeanor so unlike what I was used to from Ronan and Steve’s mom, who—even though I never in a million years suspected the abuse she was inflicting on Ronan—appeared standoffish, detached, and even cold. Just the way Penny speaks to Steve and Frank—warm and kind, her tone soft—is comforting. She moves about carefully, she’s considerate of Steve and his emotions, and she checks in with the Soult guys to make sure she’s not overstepping. She’s aware of what they’ve been through—are still going through—and that, for all intents and purposes, she’s the other woman.
She even checks in with me, asking me how I’m holding up, her words encouraging, reassuring. It’s impossible to dislike her, a fact that even Steve commented on soon after meeting Penny, when Ronan was still in the hospital.
“I think so,” Penny says to Frank. She looks at a small sticky note in her hand. “Cat, is your mom Jen?” she asks with a grin, and I nod. Penny starts to laugh. “Wow, talk about a small world,” she says just as my mom makes her way to the door.
“Hi guys, come on in!” my mom says jubilantly, then notices my confusion. “Kitty, this is my high school bestie, Penny, and her boyfriend, Frank!”
My confusion is replaced by delight, and I smile.
Penny laughs a beautiful, lighthearted laugh. “Oh my god, Jen, you won’t believe this, but I know Cat, and so does Frank.”
Frank’s handsome face, which looks a lot like Ronan’s but with some marked differences, holds a dazzling smile.
“Oh yeah?” My mom’s gaze moves between me, Frank, and Penny.
“Yes. In fact, Cat has been in Frank’s home a bunch of times over the past few months,” Penny says, amused. I can tell she’s having fun.
Now it’s my mom’s turn to be confused. “What? Why? How?” she stammers, probably worrying about what her seventeen-year-old daughter could possibly be doing in a grown-ass man’s home without her mother’s knowledge.
“Well,” Frank finally jumps in, apparently wanting to let my mom off the hook, “I have two sons. And one of them happens to be a seventeen-year-old named Ronan.”
It takes only a fraction of a second for recognition to spread across my mom’s face. “No way!” she says, her voice pitchy. She looks from Frank to me. “No way!” she says again, unable to contain her giddiness. “Ronan is your son? Ronan, as in Ran, as in Cat’s boyfriend?”
Frank nods. “The one and only,” he says with a warm chuckle, and he and Penny finally step into the house.
“This is just… I can’t believe… just… wow,” my mom huffs as she leads Penny and Frank into our living room, where she motions for them to sit down. I follow them, still shocked by this giant coincidence.
My mom smiles at Frank. “It’s really nice to officially meet you, then.”
“Likewise.” Frank’s eyes look just like Ronan’s, albeit brown instead of green, when he smiles.
“I’m going to check on the lasagna,” I say, giving my mom a chance to chat with Frank and Penny. I pull my phone out of my pocket to send another text message to Ronan.
Me: