Don't Explain (5 page)

“When I came out my sister was signing and laughing with Margaret, and we
all went together to dinner. That’s how I met her.”

Michael’s sister was very important to him, and though she lived in
Chicago, they were very close. She came to visit Michael a couple of times after
they moved out of the dorms and into the apartment complex just off campus.
Caitlyn liked his sister, but it was difficult for her to become involved in
the conversation. Both were signing so quickly that she couldn’t keep up.
Michael taught her a few things, but it didn’t get her far in the conversation.

Caitlyn suddenly felt guilty for being so hard on him that afternoon; he
didn’t leave because he didn’t want to see her. He left because he didn’t want
to deal with this. Michael told her a lot about himself in college, but he
didn’t like to share what he was feeling.

His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel tightly. She
tried to find some comforting words, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“She’d been volunteering there longer than I had been working there, and
I didn’t know she existed,” he continued. “It’s weird how that happens. We hung
out a couple of times after my sister left but only casually—lunches, movies,
stuff like that. I wasn’t really attracted to her, but I remember the moment
that I fell in love with her.

“We were going to go to this street fair one Saturday afternoon. She was
volunteering, so I told her I’d pick her up at the hospital at the end of her
shift. I got there a little early, and she was putting on a puppet show for the
kids. These really sick kids with problems that you wouldn’t wish on anyone. And
they were laughing hysterically like they didn’t have a care in the world
because of her stupid puppet show.

“That was when our relationship began. That’s when I fell in love with
her.”

Margaret had found a way into Michael’s heart just by being herself.
Something Caitlyn couldn’t accomplish in four years of trying.

“Margaret and I dated for four months, and we got in a rhythm. I was
comfortable with her, so I asked her to marry me,” he paused. “She said yes;
and now, a month later, she’s gone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

 Caitlyn saw him shaking slightly, and he let out a deep, audible breath.
She scooted close to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She gently grazed
his shoulders with her open hand to comfort him. Then she whispered, “There has
to be a reason, and I don't think that reason could have anything to do with
you. Don't let her get to you. If I had you, I would never let you go.”

She dropped her head down and forcefully closed her eyes, cursing herself
and knowing that she shouldn't have said anything. If this was her version of
comfort, she needed to keep her mouth shut. She should have just let him be
angry for the moment. Sometimes he just needed a moment to release his anger. She
looked back up at him.

He turned to her, looking through the darkness and caught her shimmering
eyes with his, and a smirk spread across his lips. “If you had me, huh?”

“Hypothetically,” she paused, but then continued rapidly and without
forethought. “In college I was in love with you. From that first moment you
walked in without a shirt on, I wanted to be with you. But you were always
dating someone or just broken up, so I never found the right moment to—you
know.” Sweet Jesus, she thought, what was her problem? She could be a perfectly
reasonable person when he wasn’t around. Why’d she have to word vomit her dirty
laundry all over him after all this time? How could she just spill her secret
when she kept it for four years of being around him every day?

The smirk disappeared. Michael tried to say something but couldn’t manage
to form any words.

She placed her hand on his tense shoulder. “If I had roped you in then, I
wouldn't have let you go. I knew you pretty well for four years, and that’s
enough to know that this woman was a lunatic to walk away from you.”

Caitlyn was considerably embarrassed by her confession, but at this
point, she might as well accept it.

Michael remained silent.

“Take a right at the mailbox.” She pointed as she slinked back to her
side of the car.

Michael maneuvered the car down the long and steep driveway and pulled it
around the wide area at the bottom so that the passenger side faced the front
door. He got out of the car and jogged to other side. Caitlyn stepped out and
looked directly at Michael.

“Thank you.”

He leaned toward her, slid one hand around her waist, combed the fingers
of the other through her hair, and gently kissed her soft lips. She let it
linger for a moment, but then pulled back.

“I should go.”

Michael pulled her back to his lips, and hers parted under his pressure. His
tongue darted in her mouth, and she flicked it with hers. Her body pressed
against his tightly as she looped her hands around his neck.

Caitlyn’s whole body radiated with heat, and she wished she wasn’t
wearing a jacket. She wanted to be closer to him and to have the night air cool
her down a bit.

His mouth ran along her cheek, and his hot breath hit her ear. “Aren’t
you going to invite me in?”

Caitlyn shook her head, “I shouldn’t.”

Michael ran his hand along the side of her neck, sending shivers through
her burning body. He placed his mouth on hers with a quick, soft kiss. “Why
not?”

“It’ll complicate things,” she said through three more soft caresses with
his lips.

“Aren’t they already complicated?” He sucked delicately on the turn of
her neck.

Caitlyn pulled away from him and stepped back against the car. “Probably,
but I don’t want to be your rebound.”

Michael reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “You
don’t have to be a rebound.”

“You don’t get to dictate that.” She dropped his hand from his. “I can’t
do this. I don’t want to fall in love with you again.”

Caitlyn deftly made her way around the overpowering man in front of her
and fled through her door. As she closed it, she rested her head against the
frame. She ached with longing and wished that she had just let the moment
happen. It was the beginning of the scene that she played out in her dreams for
five years and pretended not to dream about for another five. It would only be
one night. Just once, to see how it felt. To fill in the blanks in her
fantasies.

She battled her will and craved having his strength pressing down against
her body. She opened the door a crack to see if she could change her mind, but
he had already left. Disappointed, she kicked off her shoes, headed to her bed,
and plopped down face first.

Before she could fall asleep the phone rang. Her first thought was to ignore
it, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it might be Michael on the line, so
with great effort she lifted herself to a sitting position and grabbed the
phone next to her bed. She looked at the yellow-green display, which informed
her that Alexis was on the other end of the line. She fell back on her bed and
let the machine pick it up; Alexis could wait until the morning.

From across the small cottage, she could hear Alexis's voice through the answering
machine’s speaker pleading with her to answer questions about the evening. Finally,
she heard a threatening, “If you don't pick up the phone, I will come over to
your house, open the door with the key you gave me, and jump on your bed until
you talk to me. Not any of that girly jumping either. I’m talking backflips and
seat drops.”

Caitlyn sighed, knowing that the risk of her coming over was all too real.
Alexis lived three houses down. She raised the phone in her right hand to her
ear as she pushed the “talk” button.

“I am really tired,” she whined.

“I don't care.”

“How did you know that I was home?”

“I saw an unknown car pass my house, and I figured it was his.”

“You seriously don't have anything better to do than stalk me while I am
on a date? Have you been hanging out with my mother?”

“Quit stalling. I want to hear about your date. I'm entitled to this
information, and you're going to give it to me.”

Alexis loved to gossip, but the town's gossip was banal to her. She
wanted something juicy and sexy, and since Caitlyn didn't often date, this was
a treat.

Caitlyn gave into her and began telling her all about the awkwardness,
the dinner, why Michael was in town, and the fact that she let it slip that she’d
had a crush on him. When it came to the evening's final moments, Caitlyn hesitated.
She wasn't sure what it meant, and she feared that by telling her friend she
would make a bigger deal out of it than it was, both to her friend and in her
head.

“Is that it?” Alexis prodded.

“Pretty much.” Caitlyn answered, but she knew right away that Alexis wasn't
going to take that for an answer. “He kissed me.”

“Nice,” Alexis said. “And?”

“And what? Nothing else happened. I went inside; he left. You saw him
leave.”

“And what's next? Are you going to see him again?”

“We didn’t discuss it.” Caitlyn paused, imagining what would happen if
they did see each other again. She smiled. “Can I go to bed now?”

“Fine. Go to bed. But I'll have more questions for you in the morning.”

They hung up, and Caitlyn stared at her ceiling replaying the farewell in
her head. Her mind raced so fast that it put her to sleep. She didn’t even have
the energy to change out of her dress.

#

Michael couldn't sleep that night. He was humiliated by his actions and
wondered what had overcome him. He concluded that he had a major lapse in
judgment while in a vulnerable state. Yet somehow now that he was not in that
state or in that situation, he wanted the same thing, to pull Caitlyn close to
him and tenderly kiss her. He wondered if she would want to see him again, or
if he would have to wait another seven years to let this blow over. He paced the
floor of the motel room.

She was gorgeous. In college, he had always found her a little awkward. She
hadn't quite decided who she was going to be and was often a contradiction, but
in her coffee shop she looked comfortable, and her disheveled appearance was
anything but awkward. He caught himself gaping when he saw her in that black
dress, and she wore it with a confidence he had not seen in her before. Her
silky skin teased him all night. He thought of her long legs walking across the
restaurant and her chest rising slightly with each breath. He couldn’t remember
a time before this that she appealed to him in a way that made him want to drag
her into the closest bedroom.

He sat on his bed watching TV and thinking about how he was going to
repair their friendship. He flipped through the channels, knowing that anything
that was on at this time was not going to be something he wanted to watch. He
eventually decided that sitting in silence would better suit him. For hours the
image of her soft body lay in the forefront of his mind. He tossed about in his
bed, but the movement only distracted him for a moment. Eventually his
anxieties drove him to sleep rather than keeping him awake, and at 4:57 he
finally drifted off.

#

Caitlyn turned to look at the red numbers on her clock. 4:58. She
could
pretend to sleep for the next two minutes and have to bear the sound of the
alarm going off, or she could get up now. She rolled to her other side, tugged
the heavy quilt over her shoulders, and closed her eyes tightly, wishing she
could fall back asleep if only for those couple of moments.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Noooo!” she moaned.

She contorted her body to slam her hand against the clock and smashed the
snooze button to delay the next beep for nine minutes. She contemplated letting
the snooze run its cycle but knew that she would just lie there thinking about
the impending torture of the alarm's harsh reproach. She let out another moan
as she propped herself up, stretched her arms into the air, yawned softly, and
turned off the alarm. The wood floors of her cottage were cool against her feet
as she lifted herself out of the bed and slogged toward the shower, shedding
her cocktail dress on the way.

She stayed out way too late the night before. Usually she went to bed
early—old people early—so 5 AM did not feel good after only six hours of sleep.
While the night was worth it, she didn’t know how to face the day.

Caitlyn stepped out of the octagonal shower into the steam-filled air of
the bathroom. The warm, dense air cleared her sinuses and filled her lungs. She
hastily dried herself before pulling on a pair of faded blue jeans and a light
pink t-shirt. Her wet hair fell messily around her shoulders dampening her
shirt so that it stuck uncomfortably to her skin.

She looked in the mirror and shook her head at the image. You could have
had him, she scolded. He was standing in your driveway offering to make your
dreams come true, and you blew it.

She combed through her hair and tied the strawberry blonde tresses into a
quick chignon. She brushed mascara onto her lashes and paused for a moment to
take in her appearance. It could be better. Caitlyn would never say that she
was pretty, but she could certainly try a little harder.