19. George
Chapter nineteen
George
When I get home, I find a letter from my parents. It’s a brief, handwritten note apologizing for their pushy behavior.
In the letter, they say they’ve talked to my landlord. They will be covering the cost to fix what they have damaged.
Relief washes through me as I read those words. Maybe things are taking a turn.
Maybe my relationship with my parents is on track to get better.
Catherine phoned me at some point during the day, but I don’t have the heart to call her back yet.
My fridge is nearly empty since I dropped the leftovers off at my parents’ place.
I make myself some eggs. As I’m eating, the silence of the house weighs on me
I grab my pillows, a sleeping bag, and a camping cot. I’ll sleep at my new place tonight. It will be the first night I spend there.
The drive is peaceful. The familiar sights of the drive flood me with nostalgia.
My new house stands empty and dark, but when I enter it, it feels like home. I wander through the rooms, deciding where my bedroom will be. It’s all a blank canvas, ready for me to create a home out of it.
I wish I could make it a home for Catherine.
As I set up my bed, I consider our past.
Catherine and I had quite the rivalry in high school. I remember the times when I followed her from one class or another, teasing her that I’d won something we’d both been going for.
I was a pill to her.
I wouldn’t consider my behavior bullying. I teased her, yes, and I sometimes went out of my way to go for the same award as I knew she was going for it too. But whenever she mocked me for missing out on something, I was still happy for her.
I defended her when anyone would talk badly about her.
Now that I look back, though, I should have behaved much differently. What I thought was lighthearted teasing hurt her more than I realized.
By pulling away from her like I did, I made her life harder than it should have been. And I did pull away.
There were times when I was embarrassed by her. She wore hand-me-downs that were a decade out of style. She was a class know-it-all. She got into verbal fights with the popular kids.
If I knew then what I know now, maybe I could have made more of a difference. Made things better.
But I was a dumb kid who took our rivalry too far.
I understand why she would doubt my sincerity now.
With a sigh, I pull up the book on the library app I’ve been reading. I try to settle into the story to distract myself, but my thoughts will not stay silent.
The past has run its course, so now my mind fixates on Lynn’s suggestion to me. Tell Catherine again that I love her. Would it really be that easy?
I try to picture the scenario where I’d tell her once more that I love her.
All I can imagine is the look on her face after I said it the first time.
A notification pops up on my phone.
Ah! A welcome escape from my internal carousal.
I tap the notification. It’s an email, stating I’ve received a new application on the job posting. I’m pleased with how many prospective employees have reached out already.
I open the application and drop my phone.
Yeah, it’s not the most gracious thing I’ve ever done.
I snatch it back up, sitting on the edge of my camping cot as I double-check the name attached.
Catherine Hart.
Someone’s pretending to be her. That must be it. Somebody is using her credentials and pretending to be her to get a job.
They think I’m a small-town dunce who can easily be fooled.
Only nope, that’s Catherine’s actual number on the resume.
I sit there, stunned.
Why?
Did she apply by accident?
Or is this her way of asking me to talk?
Her way of saying she wants to stay…?
My heart starts racing like a puppy dog’s tail as I stand, pacing around the room.
It’s late, nearing midnight. Catherine’s application had come through only a few minutes ago, though.
Is it too late to call her?
I hesitate, but I can’t hold back. It’s far too easy to let myself fall into the trap of overthinking and doubting myself.
I call her, hoping that I don’t wake her.
She answers quickly. “George? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just got… well, I got your application. Did you mean to send it?”
Bed springs creak from the other side of the phone. I wince.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry. We can talk tomorrow,” I say quickly.
“Hold up,” Catherine is quick to say. “I never said I was sleeping.”
I sigh as I shake my head. “Sorry. I guess I’m just thinking too much about… everything.”
“I have a lot to think about, too.” Catherine sounds exhausted. “So much that I can’t sleep.”
If we both couldn’t sleep anyway… “I’m at the new house. I can come over to talk if you want. We can have a sleepover in the treehouse like we did when we were kids.”
“Sure. See you soon.”
I grab the sleeping bag and pillow, feeling a little off-kilter. I quickly make my way to Lynn’s place. A warm light glows in the treehouse.
One of the upper windows opens as I get out of the truck.
Lynn pops her head through. She frowns at me. “Where’s the fire?”
“No fire,” I call back. “Cat and I just needed to talk.”
“Ah, I see. Well, be good. And if you can’t be good, name it after me.”
“Grandma,” Catherine’s protest is distant, coming from the treehouse.
Lynn cackles as she closes her window again.
I make my way to the treehouse.
It’s a bit too small for two full-grown adults. An electric lantern hangs from the low ceiling. I’m pleased to see that Catherine has the foresight to bring out a bunch of extra blankets, which she has used to build a soft nest beneath us.
“Hey,” she greets, her voice soft and shy.
“Hey.”
Is it just Lynn’s joke that’s making me feel awkward now?
“So. My application.” Catherine clears her throat. “I sent it on purpose. So much has happened today. It’s made me realize a few things and I had to apply before I could convince myself not to.”
Concern washes through me. “What happened?”
She explains her realization in the city, followed by the confrontation with my parents, and finally, what happened with her mother.
By the time she’s done, my mind is reeling.
“I told my parents we broke up last night,” I admit, running a hand through my strawberry-blond hair. I explain what happened. “I’m sorry for using you as a reason to be short with them.”
Catherine takes my hand. “We haven’t exactly treated our fake engagement with the respect it deserves, have we?”’
I snort. “I suppose not. But when you saw them, they were dropping off an apology letter.”
“That’s progress,” she says.
“And I’m going to make sure my mother apologizes to you, too,” I tell her, a steely note in my voice.
Catherine squeezes my hand gently. “I’d appreciate that. I don’t expect anything will come of it, though.”
“I do. My parents didn’t raise me to own up to my mistakes just for them to be hypocrites.” If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I can be far more insistent when someone else’s feelings are on the line.
Catherine nods, though she still looks a little doubtful.
I turn her hand over, tracing my fingertips over the lines in her palm. “And what about this application? I thought you didn’t want to stay in Sandburrow.”
“I thought so, too. But when I was back in the city, it was just… awful. It made me realize how much Sandburrow really feels like home.” She scoots a little closer. “I realized that I’ve had a much more fulfilling life here the last few weeks than I have for years in the city.”
“What’s been fulfilling?” I question.
It’s not that I doubt her. I just want to know what her thoughts are and make sure that it’s not just me.
“Volunteering at the museum. Helping Grandma around the property. Even spending time with Katherina.” She smiles at me. “I feel like I’m doing things that are actually important, not just grinding away for a paycheck.”
I gaze at her admiringly.
Catherine laughs softly. “I spent so much of my life telling myself that I was trying to escape Sandburrow. That I was trapped here. The truth of it is, I was trapped in my own emotions. I’ve never really given myself the space to deal with everything my mother put me through.”
“And now?”
“Now… now I realize that I’m not alone. I’ve always had support, and it’s not a shameful thing to lean on the people who love me when I feel weak,” Catherine says softly. “The people who really love me are still going to love me, even if I make mistakes.”
“That’s true.” I thread my fingers through her hair. She leans her cheek into my palm. “I love you, Catherine. I love you so much. I understand if we need to take things slowly. Just know that I love you.”
She smiles at me. “I know.”
“And I’m also sorry for how I acted when we were kids. I should have stood up for you more.”
She presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. “It’s alright. You were a kid. You didn’t know what was going on in my life.”
I kiss her fingers one by one.
“Our rivalry pushed me to be the best I could be. So thank you for that, George. And thank you for accepting me for who I am. You never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. Only that I had the strength to be better.”
She kisses me then. Her arms wrap around me. In that embrace, I feel more connection to her than I’ve ever had before.
I see our lives laid out before us. All the possibilities that we have within our reach. And I’m so very grateful that I can have her in my life, in my arms.
Carefully, moving as one, we lie down in the treehouse. The intimate space encases us, closing out the world. It’s just her and me, the touch of our lips and the promises of what is to come.
And I’ve never felt so alive as I do right now.