Vessel

25

CATHERINE OPENED HER eyes and realized two things at once: the headache she’d been waking up with every day for weeks was gone, and she had no idea where she was. She sat up on the unfamiliar couch, pushing off the blanket, and then it came to her. Oh God, she’d fallen asleep on Cal Morganson’s couch. This was going to be the weirdest walk of shame in the history of Houston.

She swung her legs over the side of the couch and rubbed her eyes before running her hands over her hair. She was a wreck, no doubt. Wreck or not, that was the best sleep she’d had in weeks. Her head felt clearer than it had in… well, in a long time. Cal believed her. Someone else knew the truth now. That on its own was enough to make her feel less crazy, less alone.

As she tried to finish waking up, she realized just what a mess her life had become. The drinking, the way she was avoiding everyone, her relationship with Aimee. For the first time in ages she felt like it was a mess she might be able to clean up. She needed to get home and start making some phone calls.

Cal came out of his kitchen, freshly showered and dressed for work. She hated him a little for looking neat while she was sitting there with dirty hair and morning breath and clothes she’d been wearing for days.

“Hey,” he said. “Look who’s up.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t worry about it. You looked like you could use the sleep. Probably safer than you trying to get home, as late as it was.” He smiled and she hated him more—it figured he was a morning person.

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you some coffee? I promise it’s not leftovers from last night.”

“No, thank you. I should— I should get home.” She stood up, and the room didn’t spin. She really was feeling better this morning.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”

“No, really. I have some things I need to fix.”

He nodded as if he understood, and maybe he did. Even if he was still investigating her, he believed her, and it was amazing what a difference that made. “Call me later, and we’ll start working this thing through, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Cal walked her to the door and there was a weird, awkward moment—considering the intimacy of the conversation they’d had the night before, she was tempted to hug him. They settled on a clumsy handshake, and she fled. She had thought he was cold, but there’d been nothing cold in his eyes this morning, and he’d covered her on his couch and let her sleep.

She stopped to pick up coffee and some breakfast on her way back to her apartment, and ate while checking her emails. There was a message from Aaron asking how she was doing. She replied, telling him how much better she felt, hoping she hadn’t ruined things for herself at NASA.

Lingering over her coffee was a luxury she hadn’t allowed herself in a long time. She looked out through her sliding glass doors at the morning sunlight while she figured out her next moves.

She needed to call Aimee. Her stomach churned at the thought, but she needed to be the grown-up here. Julie was right. The longer she let that go, the less chance they’d have to patch things up. Catherine swallowed the last of her coffee and picked up her phone. Feeling ridiculous, she took a deep breath and sat up straighter, perched on the edge of the couch as she dialed her daughter’s cell phone.

Eventually Aimee’s voice mail picked up. “Hey, Aimee. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and how much I love you. We need to talk. Call me, please?”

She hung up and spoke aloud to her empty apartment, hearing the quaver in her voice. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

She needed to call David. There was no getting back together with him. No matter how much better she was doing, their time was done. Catherine felt sure of that. But his offer of friendship was still there, and she was going to need all the friends she could get. She picked up her phone again.

David answered right away. “Catherine. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m sorry. I’ve been putting everyone through hell.” She tried to organize her thoughts. “I wanted to say thank you for everything. I’ve been pretty pissed at you—at everybody. Julie was just what I needed.”

“I’m glad. I knew I wasn’t the best choice to talk to you, but you needed someone.”

“Is Aimee okay? I called to apologize, but I think she’s screening her calls.”

“Listen, Catherine, Aimee told me what she said to you. She’s ashamed of herself right now and not ready to face it. If you give her time, she’ll come around.”

“How do you know?” Catherine stood and started pacing. What if David was wrong? What if Catherine had lost her forever?

“I’ll talk to her. Don’t worry. She needs you; she just doesn’t know it right now.” David sounded reassuring and Catherine tried to hold on to that, but…

“I was out of line. When you talk to her, make sure she knows that I know that.”

“I will, I promise.” David hesitated then said, “Tell me the truth. Are you okay? With everything, and the fight with Aimee… please tell me.” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “Look, whatever’s happened between us, I still care. I know… I know the last time we talked I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“We both did,” she said automatically. “I’m sorry, too.” She wasn’t actually sure she was, not yet, but she knew an olive branch when she saw one.

“So talk to me. What’s going on?”

Standing there, in her dim living room, Catherine was tempted to tell him everything. Instead she just laughed. “It’s been kind of a weird year, David.”

After a moment he laughed with her, and things felt as though they might be okay between them. Not “married” okay but “still friends” okay. “Point taken. Just remember you’re not alone, all right?”

“Yeah. I know.” Then because she didn’t know what else to say, “Thanks.”

“I know you’ve always wanted to be the best mom possible,” David said. “And whatever happens between you and me, I hope we can keep working together as Aimee’s parents.”

“Of course. Of course, we can.”

It was so much easier to talk to David now that she wasn’t worried about trying to stay married to him. And now they could both focus more of their energy on Aimee. They chatted a few more minutes, and then Catherine started cleaning her apartment. She moved automatically to the kitchen. Rather than pour a drink, she threw herself into washing the dirty dishes that were days old. Maybe she couldn’t fix everything, but she’d fix what she could.

She was almost finished with the dishes when her phone rang. Aimee’s name flashed on her screen. Heart pounding, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and picked up her phone, trying to sound calm.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.” Aimee’s voice was subdued; not quite at full sullen-teenager levels, but close.

“I’m so glad you called,” Catherine said. She sat down in her tiny dining area, leaning against the table.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been talking to Dad and Julie. They both thought I should.”

“Aimee, I’m sorry. I never should have hit you. I… wasn’t in a very good place then, I got hurt, and I reacted badly.” Catherine’s throat tightened and she swallowed several times.

“I shouldn’t have… said what I did. I’m sorry.”

“You had—you have—every right to be angry with me.” The guilt was threatening to swallow her whole, making her want to throw herself at Aimee’s proverbial feet. But something Dr. Darzi once said stuck with her: You can’t build a relationship on guilt. Yes, Catherine had made mistakes, but that didn’t make her responsible for everything. She took a deep breath and said, “I have the right to be angry, too. Neither of us handled it well. But I’m the grown-up, and I should have done better.”

“I don’t want to be angry at you all the time.” Aimee’s voice quavered. “I just want things to be normal.”

Catherine pressed her lips together, her eyes stinging. “I don’t know what normal is going to look like for us. But we can get there. I don’t want to do this on the phone. Can we meet? I understand if you don’t want to come here yet.” They needed neutral territory; Catherine could sense it.

Aimee was silent at first then said, “Sure. Yeah, we can do that.”

“Great. Today? Coffee shop down the street from you? About two?” More than anything, Catherine needed to see Aimee, to hold her, to make everything feel real.

“Okay.”

When they hung up, Catherine went through the apartment cleaning up after the weeks of misery. Everything felt so much lighter today, as though she’d cut all her hair off or shed a heavy coat. There were still questions that needed to be answered, but now she wasn’t going to try to answer them alone.

Dr. Darzi had been wrong: the only way she was going to put everything behind her was by remembering everything and getting the full story about what happened. And now with Cal to help her, she was sure she could do it. Sooner or later she was going to remember.

The coffee shop was crowded, but Catherine ordered two coffees and found a table while she waited for Aimee to get there. When she arrived, the two of them looked at each other awkwardly, then Catherine stood and carefully reached out to her. They fell into an embrace, and all the tears that Catherine had been holding back started to fall.

“Mom, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I love you so much, Aimee.”

“I love you, too.”

Conscious that they were drawing attention, Catherine tried to get her crying under control and sat down again. Aimee sat across from her, wiping away her own tears, sniffling.

“It’s so good to see you,” Catherine said, then had to stop, choking up again.

“I’ve missed you,” Aimee admitted. “Dad is great, always has been, but… he’s not you.”

At the mention of David, Catherine fought the urge to ask if Maggie was coming around again already. This wasn’t about David or Maggie. Aimee was the only one that really mattered right now. “You guys did okay without me for a while there,” Catherine teased faintly.

“We do better with you. Or I do, at least.” Aimee stirred her coffee aimlessly, looking into the cup. “Dad was really worried about you. So was I.”

How much should she tell Aimee? She wanted to be truthful, but didn’t want to scare her. Catherine focused on her own cup while she gathered her thoughts, then looked up to meet Aimee’s eyes. “I was struggling—I’m still struggling. Coming home was so much harder than I thought it would be. I wasn’t ready for that.” She paused again. “I… tried to cope with it by drinking too much.” One corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smile. “You see how well that went.”

“But you’ve stopped now?”

“Yeah. I’m trying. If I can’t stop on my own, I’ll get help, I promise.” Catherine laughed wryly. “See, I’m learning to ask for help.”

“Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Aimee shot back with a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think there might be.”

If only she could remember what happened—all of it, no matter how painful the truth.