The Cold Nowhere

32

Stride awoke to the silence of the cottage at three in the morning. He put a hand on the other side of the bed, expecting to touch Serena’s skin, but he was alone. She hadn’t stayed. He glanced at his BlackBerry on the nightstand and saw the red message light flashing. When he checked his e-mail, he saw a text from Serena, time-stamped only minutes earlier.

The message read: Did you sleep with Michaela?

He wasn’t ready to answer her. Not yet. Even so, he was comforted to know that she was lying awake, just like him. There had been nights all winter when he stared into the darkness and knew that Serena was doing the same thing in her bed in Grand Rapids. They could still feel each other.

So why was he shutting her out? Why couldn’t he face what he’d done?

He heard footsteps across the floor of the living room. A small, attractive silhouette appeared in the doorway of his bedroom. ‘Cat?’

‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘Did I wake you up?’

‘I wasn’t sleeping. Are you okay?’

‘I had a nightmare.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

Cat didn’t say anything, but she slipped across the slanted floor toward him. In the shadows, he could see that she was wearing only a tank top and panties. She stood beside the bed, her thumbs in the elastic waistband. She smelled of the lavender soap that Serena always used, which was still in the shower. Her bare thighs twisted back and forth against the mattress, as if she were spinning on a lazy susan.

‘Do the nightmares happen a lot?’ he asked.

‘Most nights, yeah. I hate to go to sleep. I try to stay awake until I can’t hold my eyes open.’

‘That was how it was for me after I went off the bridge.’

‘Did it go away?’ she asked.

‘Not entirely, but it’s not as bad as it was.’

‘I don’t think mine will ever stop.’

‘What do you dream about?’

‘Mostly, it’s the same dream. The same night. You know? When it all happened.’

‘I know.’

‘Vincent said I keep reliving it because I’m hiding something from back then. He kept pushing me to find out what it was.’

‘Did you?’

‘No. Do you think I’m hiding something? Is there something I don’t want to remember?’

‘I think anyone who went through an experience like you did would struggle to get past it,’ Stride said. ‘It haunted me, too, Cat. It still does.’

She laid a hand on his bed. He worried that she would peel down the comforter and try to slide in beside him, and he would have to stop her. He was conscious of the fact that the line between innocence and sexuality had blurred in her mind a long time ago.

‘I lied to you,’ she told him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘About what?’

‘Vincent.’

‘You slept with him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why lie? It wasn’t your fault.’

Cat was slow to respond.

‘Why are you so sure it’s not my fault?’ she said finally. ‘Maybe it was me. Maybe I seduced him.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘I could have. I’m not a child. Men always think they’re seducing women, but usually it’s the other way around.’

‘You still didn’t tell me why you lied,’ Stride said.

‘I don’t know. I sort of — let him do it to me. I wanted him to have me. I told him to do whatever he wanted.’

‘That doesn’t mean it’s your fault. Psychologists have tremendous emotional power over their patients. That’s why it’s a crime for them to have a sexual relationship with someone in their care. He manipulated you, Cat. It was wrong.’

‘I loved him,’ she murmured.

‘It felt like love, because he took an interest in you.’

‘I’d never loved anyone before. I thought he loved me, too. He said he did.’

‘He used you.’

‘When he said he was leaving town, and he couldn’t see me anymore, I was devastated. I would have done anything to get him back. Anything.’

Stride waited. He didn’t like what he heard in her voice.

‘I was so angry. I felt like he was abandoning me.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I wanted to kill him,’ she said.

He murmured, ‘Did you?’

‘No, but it’s my fault he’s dead.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Everyone I love dies,’ Cat said.

He didn’t know how to respond or make it better. When he said nothing, Cat went on. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about something Serena told me,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’

‘You slept with Maggie.’

Stride tensed. ‘Yes, that’s true.’

‘I was upset with you when she told me. I couldn’t believe you would do something like that.’

‘I was upset with myself, too.’

‘You hurt Serena.’

‘I know.’

‘Plus, it’s Maggie. Ick.’

‘That’s not fair, Cat. Maggie and I have been friends for years.’

‘I know. Anyway, I decided I was being too hard on you. You’re human. Everybody makes mistakes. It’s only sex.’

‘No, you were right the first time,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter what was going on in my life. I was wrong to let it happen.’

‘People get too hung up about sex. I don’t get it. It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘Yes, it does. I hope you’ll discover that someday.’

Cat rolled down one inch of her panties, exposing the bone of her hips. ‘I’d have sex with you if you wanted,’ she murmured softly.

Stride reached to the nightstand and turned on the light. He threw her a king-sized pillow, which she clutched against her chest, covering herself. Her eyes were wide; she knew she’d made a mistake. She could feel his anger and he made no effort to hide it.

‘Listen to me, Cat. I never want to hear you say anything like that to me ever again. Are we clear about that? Never. If it happens again, that’s the last night you spend in this house.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I don’t why I said that. Now you’re going to hate me.’

‘I don’t hate you, but I need to trust you, and you just made it hard for me to do that.’

Cat dropped the pillow and ran for the doorway. She stopped there, her back to him, her shoulders rippling as she cried. She turned around and her pretty face was streaked with tears. She stared at the floor, not looking at him. ‘I won’t do it again. I promise.’

‘That’s good,’ he said.

She yanked her tank top down to hide her stomach, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her legs were pressed together. Her hair was strewn across her face. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘What is it?’

‘You’re not my father, are you?’

He stared at her. ‘Cat, what are you talking about?’

‘I don’t know. I just wondered.’

‘You know I’m not. I didn’t even meet your mother until you were four years old.’

‘Yeah. Okay.’

He frowned. ‘Why on earth would you ask me something like that?’

‘I don’t know. It’s stupid. Everybody said I should have had a better father. There are lots of days when I wish I’d had a father like you.’ Cat wiped her face. ‘You did sleep with my mother, though. Didn’t you?’

‘Catalina is asleep,’ Michaela whispered. ‘Finally. That girl never wants to miss a second of life.’

‘It’s almost Christmas. What kid can sleep then?’

‘That’s true. Thank you for bringing a gift for her. That’s sweet. It will be a nice surprise.’ She closed the door to the girl’s bedroom softly, leaving Catalina inside. ‘Can you stay for a glass of wine?’

‘Sure.’

‘It’s not very good,’ she apologized.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

They returned to the small living room, which was decorated with Christmas crafts that her daughter had made. Cotton-ball Santas. Angels in crayon. A popsicle stick creche. The space smelled of spruce from the twinkling tree in the corner and sugar from freshly made cookies. Strains of holiday music played on the boom box, its volume barely audible. He recognized ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’. The light in the room was dimmed.

She poured two glasses of Chardonnay from a box. They clinked a toast and smiled at each other. Her face glowed.

‘You look happy,’ he said.

‘Do I? I am happy. I feel safe, and I have you to thank.’

‘I don’t think Marty will bother you again,’ Stride told her. ‘Every one of my cops is on the lookout for him. If he so much as jaywalks, I’ll make sure his parole is revoked. So hopefully he’ll be a good boy.’

Michaela shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nothing lasts with Marty. Sooner or later he gets drunk, and bad things happen. I’m just enjoying the peace for now. It’s a good thing.’

They stood next to each other by the window that looked out on the woods. She was close to him. When he sipped his wine, it rolled through his head like an ocean wave. He realized she was looking at him, and he looked back. Her face was golden and perfect. Through the shadows, he saw something in her eyes. Love. Need. Desire. It affected him. Her lips parted in a sensual way that asked him to kiss her. Her arms slid around his waist. She got on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his cheek, and then she kissed his lips, too, and her face lingered there. Her perfume intoxicated him. Her mouth was warm and erotic. He kissed her back, but as quickly as it began, he remembered himself and gently pushed her away.

‘Michaela,’ he said.

She looked down at the floor. ‘No. Say nothing, please.’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t-’

‘Of course not. You are married. You have a wonderful wife. I’m ashamed of myself. That was unforgivable.’

‘If things were different,’ he said.

‘They’re not. You don’t owe me any kind words. I don’t deserve them.’

She turned on her heel and marched to the kitchen. He watched her pour her wine in the sink. She made the lights in the room brighter. It made him realize that the moment wasn’t spontaneous. She’d planned it and wanted it. This was a seduction. If he’d said yes, they would be making love now.

Their eyes met. She knew what he was thinking, and she hooded her face in humiliation. He couldn’t tell her what was in his heart. He couldn’t admit how close he’d come to undressing her and laying her down on the floor beneath him.

His phone rang like a warning from the real world. It was Maggie. He answered it and listened and gave a terse reply. When he hung up, he said, ‘I have to go.’

‘Of course,’ Michaela said.

‘There’s been a burglary in the Congdon Parkway. A woman was shot and killed.’

‘In the sacred season? That’s terrible. Go.’

‘I feel like I should say something.’

‘No, you shouldn’t. It would be easier if you said nothing.’ She waved him away.

He nodded at her and left through the front door, and he felt a stab of loneliness on her behalf. Flurries of snow had begun to fall, streaking like stars through the porch light. Inside, the music got louder, playing a piano solo of ‘Silent Night’. He heard Michaela singing the words in a broken voice.

*

Stride was alone again. Cat was back in the other bedroom.

He picked up his BlackBerry and reread Serena’s message. Did you sleep with Michaela?

He wondered if she was still awake, like him. This time, he keyed in a reply.

No, I didn’t.

He was about to send the message when he added:

It’s worse.