this! And who told you about it?” She didn’t know why she was asking; she already knew the answer.
“Mom?” Matty pulled on her hand. “I can do it, right?”
“Matty, I…I don’t think so.” She tried to soften her voice, to lessen the blow to Matty, but disappointment still flashed in his eyes. He yanked his hand from hers and looked away, sending a sharp stab of pain through her. She faced Brian, her anger clear.
“Who told you about it, Brian? Who?”
“Nathan Conners.”
“He went to you? After I already told him no, he went to you!” She shook her head, wanting to say more, knowing she couldn’t. She stepped behind Matty’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles, squeezing until she thought they would bend. “I think you know what both of you can do.”
“He came to me because he thought you were being unreasonable. I happened to agree with him.”
“Mom, I can do it, can’t I? You’re going to let me do it, right?” Catherine’s throat constricted at the pain in Matty’s voice and she had to swallow before answering.
“Matty, sweetie. You’re not ready. I don’t want you hurt.”
“But, Mom—”
“Matty, I said no, not right now.”
“Catherine, don’t you think—”
She shrugged Brian’s hand from her shoulder. “I think you need to mind your own business. I think you need to tell your patients to mind their own business.”
“Catherine…”
“I have nothing more to say to you.” She leaned into the heavy chair and pushed. Brian’s betrayal bit into her, hurting her in a way she hadn’t expected.
“Mom, why can’t I?”
“Because I said. I don’t want to hear another word.”
Catherine squeezed her eyes against the tears, blinking back all but one that rolled down her cheek. She wiped her face on her sweater. The last thing she needed was for the waterworks to start, not here and especially not now.
Matty was doing enough crying for them both.
Chapter Four
Catherine rolled the tension from her shoulders, closed her eyes and let her head fall against the back of the sofa. The faint scent of candles surrounded her and she breathed in the mix of vanilla and rose, searching for some inner relaxation.
Three days had passed since she had told Matty in no uncertain terms that he would not be participating in any sports clinic. Three days since he had talked to her, not even a murmur of anger or argument. It had been a long three days.
Catherine sighed and opened her eyes, stared down at the nearly forgotten glass of Chardonnay in her hands before taking a sip, not caring that it was no longer chilled. She had finally caved in, unwilling to face the anger and hurt that stared back at her whenever she looked at Matty. She had called Brian that morning, told him to pick up Matty and take him to the camp.
An excited Matty had called a few hours ago, telling her that he and Brian were going to a hockey game. Before she could protest, Brian got on the phone and explained that the tickets were a gift and not to worry, Matty could spend the night.
Dead silence floated back from the phone before Catherine had a chance to question or argue.
So here she sat, alone and lonely, brooding over a glass of warm white wine. Wishing she had never laid eyes on Nathan Conners but unable to banish his image from her mind.
She sighed again then tossed back the last of the wine in her glass, wincing at the warm bitterness. It was just past eight o’clock and already she felt lost. She didn’t want to consider why, didn’t want to face the truth that any normalcy in her life had stopped with Matty’s illness. Now that he was on the quick road to recovery, doing normal things for kids his age, it was time for her to do the same. And she was afraid.
Catherine muttered a curse then pushed herself from the sofa and walked to the kitchen, blinking at the bright overhead light. She took several steps then stopped, looking around as if seeing the room for the first time.
Clean white surfaces, gleaming steel appliances, shiny green-and-white tile floor. A small pine table surrounded by four ladderback chairs sat in front of a bay window framed in cheery yellow gingham curtains, two place mats arranged at either end with green napkins neatly rolled and waiting in the center of each. The cheeriness of the room escaped her, and the only thing she noticed was its cleanliness. Neat, clean and orderly.
Efficient. And boring.
“I’m losing it.” Her voice echoed back to her, making her feel worse. She placed the empty glass on the counter then opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pint container of orange juice and drank from it. Matty would have been surprised, considering how often she admonished him for the same thing.
She rinsed the empty carton and tossed it into the recycling bin. More efficiency.
It was a Saturday night and she was home alone. Her nine-year-old son was out having a good time while she stood in her kitchen. Alone. Thinking about how efficient everything was.
Definitely boring.
She glanced at her watch again and saw that only a few minutes had gone by. There was no reason she should be home by herself. Never mind the fact that she had nothing to do and nobody to do it with. Matty and Brian were at the hockey game. She could meet up with them, apologize for being so touchy the last few days and see if they wanted to go do something. Maybe go to the Inner Harbor, walk around and get some ice cream.
The keys were in her hand and she was out the door before she realized they might not want her company. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind, leaving it behind as she pulled the minivan out of the driveway.
The soles of Catherine’s tennis shoes squeaked on the polished tile floor, the sound echoing strangely in the hollow silence. She stopped and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, sighing. Except for a few stray voices that floated up to her from the lower seats, the arena was deserted.
She looked around, swallowing an insane desire to cry. How could she have missed the entire game? She exhaled a long breath and began the dizzying descent to the arena floor, her gaze lowered to concentrate on the unusually spaced concrete steps.
If not for the delays with the light rail, she would have had time to at least find Matty and Brian and see part of the third period. Instead, she arrived at the arena and learned that the game had ended twenty minutes earlier, with the Banners winning 3 to 2. The victory did little to boost her spirits as she tried to convince the security guard to let her in so she could see if Matty and Brian were still there.
The fact that she had to finally say they were guests of Nathan Conners was a fresh wound to her pride. She waited while the guard made a phone call, then grimaced at his slick smile and flash of innuendo. It made her feel like a groupie. She briefly wondered how many players were accustomed to groupies, how many times security had called down to Nathan Conners.
Catherine refused to look too deeply into where that thought was leading, telling herself instead that it was just one more reason to keep Matty away from the hockey player.
She reached the bottom of the steps, rubbing her hands against the chill running down her arms as she looked around, hoping to see a familiar face near the players’ box. Row after row of empty chairs stared back at her.
“Catherine?” The voice came from behind, startling her even as the flesh on her arms prickled with heat. She turned and swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat as Nathan descended the last few steps. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Her mouth worked silently as she stared up at him. His dark hair was slicked back, still damp from the shower he had obviously just taken, the ends hanging