Chapter 26
The skies outside were grey and black when Brian got up, the clouds racing and a whippy little wind rattling a few raindrops against the windowpanes. He dressed in his sweats and went to the kitchen where Carrie was making coffee. She was wearing oversize watch plaid flannel pajamas, with the pant legs rolled up to reveal bright red socks. She saw him looking at her. She didn't know he was thinking how different she looked from the vision of the blue nightgown of Friday night. This was a warm and cuddly version of Carrie, which was nice too.
"These are my Sabbath vestments."
"You wear them all day?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yep. It keeps me from being tempted to run errands." Carrie wasn't kidding about her Sabbath.
Brian went back to his bedroom for his hat and rain jacket. He put the cell phone and Katherine's card in his pocket.
He poked his head in the kitchen doorway. "I'm heading out for a run now, before the rain cuts loose." Carrie nodded.
He retraced yesterday's route up to the college, and found a covered pergola with barriers against the wind. It was still early, and since it was Sunday, only a few people were out. He thought about postponing the phone call, in case he would be waking her, but he knew it was just a flimsy excuse. Besides, Katherine was the one who was desperate to talk to him. He figured he could have called her at three a.m. and she wouldn't have minded.
There was one more message, from late last night. "Brian, if you don't call me soon, I don't know what I'll do. Something." And she clicked off abruptly.
He sat for a minute with his phone in his lap, following his breath until it was regular and he could stay with it. Then he dialed her number.
She picked up immediately, in the middle of the first ring.
Breathlessly, "Hello?"
"Is this Katherine?" He knew her voice by now, but he wanted to be sure, and any slowing down of the conversation would help him negotiate his way through it.
"Brian! Oh thank God! I've been going nuts!"
"Yes, I'm sorry. It's been difficult to call."
"Three days, Brian. It's been three days since you left me waiting at lunch! Did you think at all about how I felt?" There was no question about the anger.
"You got my message? About what's happened?"
Now her voice took on a cool, scolding note, like an elementary teacher chastising a child with no homework to deliver. "It's hard to believe that story, Brian. Really hard to believe."
"It's hard for me to believe too. But it's true. It's the reason I wasn't at work on Thursday or Friday. I don't remember anything. I'm going for hospital tests tomorrow, to see if it's something physical, in my brain."
"I have to see you Brian. I have to look at your eyes. I cannot believe you don't remember us. We belong together, and you'll remember that when you see me."
He had to turn her away from that idea. He was prepared to see her, but on his own terms, not hers. He didn't want to encourage her.
"Katherine. I don't even remember my own mother. I don't think you should count on anything." He kept his voice cool, but tried to avoid cold and rejecting. It was a fine line to walk, trying to handle her emotional volatility.
"When can I see you? Can you come over now?"
"I'm sorry, there isn't any way I can get away today. Could we meet before you go to work tomorrow morning, around 7:45 or 8:00? What time does the office open?" Carrie would be leaving by 7:30. "I could meet you for coffee or breakfast. Do you know a good place to go?"
"You could come here."
"I think the first time would be better someplace else." Why did he say, "First time," as if there would be a second? He was just feeling his way by intuition, and his intuition told him not to be too abrupt. I'm a manipulative bastard.
"I know it sounds odd, but this is a strange situation for me. I'd just feel better." Meeting in public could make it easier to avoid an emotional scene. She wasn't replying.
"There's a Starbucks downtown. How about there? Please, Katherine, work with me on this."
"It sounds like you're not giving me any choice, doesn't it?" She sounded bitter.
"I'm really sorry. I know this is hard for you too."
"I don't know if I can wait until tomorrow." It was a little whiney, pitiful sounding. He waited.
The line was silent for a moment, and finally she sighed. "All right, if that's the way it has to be. I'm supposed to be at the office by 9:00. I'll meet you at 7:45."
"Thank you. And Katherine?"
"What?"
"You'll have to find me. Don't be hurt if I don't recognize you."
After they hung up he sat with his hands in his lap, staring out at the rain dripping off the ends of the cedar branches that surrounded and overhung the shelter. It pattered on the roof above him, a steady beat now. He tried to feel relieved that this part was over. She hadn't made any more implied threats to come to his house. All he had to do now is convince her that it was impossible to continue the relationship.
All he had to do? That's why he wasn't relieved, but instead was overwhelmed with dread. Now that he'd talked to her it was real, and it would be glaringly real tomorrow morning. He didn't know how he was going to do it.
By the time he got back to the house the rain was dripping down around the inside of his collar, and had blown sideways into his ears. He felt like a beaver, heading for his den. He shook the water off his rain jacket under the roof covering the front step, and hung it along with his hat on a hook in the entry porch. His shoes and socks were soaked and he sat down in the wicker chair and took them off too, and carried them inside.
Carrie was at the kitchen counter, beating up batter and overseeing sausages sizzling on the griddle.
"I'm home. Smells good!"
"How was your run, besides wet?"
"Brrrr. Cold. I need a hot shower. Do I do this every day?"
"Every last one. You're very dedicated. Go get warm."
After he'd showered and dressed in a wool shirt and jeans he went back to the kitchen in stocking feet. The waffle iron was plugged in and heating on the kitchen table, alongside a jug of maple syrup and the butter dish.
"Can you get the blueberries out of the refrigerator? I put them in a bowl to defrost last night. See if they need a shot from the microwave, will you?" He took them out and gave them a stir with a spoon and tipped a sip of the sweet and tart purple juice onto his tongue.
"I think they're ready." He put the bowl on the table for serving over the waffles. He was ravenous, and the sharp sage and crisp sausage smells that filled the kitchen were stimulating his appetite even more.
Between them they set the table, and when the first waffle was done they divided it and Carrie spooned a second one onto the grid of the waffle iron. There was enough batter for an army, and Brian took advantage until he was satisfied. No wonder he had to run every day, if this is how he ate all the time.