Don't Explain (14 page)

With a final kiss and a wave, she let him walk to the security line.
Alexis shuffled her out of the airport. When they reached the car, Alexis's
phone rang. She was confused when she saw the 916 area code appear on her
caller ID, and she answered hesitantly.

“Hey, Alexis, it's Michael. Don't let Caitlyn know that it's me.”

“Okay,” she let the word drip from her mouth like molasses. She held her
hand up to Caitlyn signaling that she would be a minute and walked a few feet in
the opposite direction.

“I just want to let you know that I expect that you will take care of her
while I am gone.”

“Of course,” she didn't know why he was bothering her with this when it
was obvious to them both, “but you know that she has been taking care of
herself for a while know. She's a big girl.”

“I know, but I really care about her. I want to know that she will be
cared for.”

“I'll do my best.”

“That's all I ask.”

“Have a good flight and come back quickly.”

“I'll do what I can. Thanks, Alexis.”

She hung up the phone and went back to her car. She slipped into the driver's
seat to a questioning look from Caitlyn. “That was Michael. He wants me to look
after you while he’s gone.”

Caitlyn laughed. “Aren’t I the one that generally has to look after you?”

Alexis nodded her head. “That’s generally the case.”

“It’s a good sign though, right? That he wants to make sure I’m okay.”

“Got me.” Alexis shrugged. “I don’t deal with matters of the heart. Now
in matters of the vagina, I am a certified expert.” Alexis threw her car into
reverse.

“I bet you are.”

For three days, Caitlyn worked in the coffee shop and thought about
Michael's impending return. She yearned for him, and while the sound of his
voice was her nightly comfort, she wanted more than just the sound of him.
Michael made easy it for her to be comfortable with being with a man again. She
felt safer with him around, and she liked that feeling. The last three days
seemed colder without him, and she didn’t do more than work and sleep.

She sat on her living room floor reading a novel about a woman whose
lover arrested her for protesting against a local ordinance at the court house.
She was standing up for what she believed in, and he was refusing to
understand. Not allowing his emotions to surface. Not revealing the secret love
that they shared when he wasn't throwing her in jail.

Caitlyn put the book down. She began to fear that this was coming all too
easily. A sickness sat low in her stomach. If he would just drive up to her
house, pull her in his arms, and tell her that everything went according to
plan, she could relax. Part of her wondered if he would come back. Michael
assured her that all of his stuff was on a moving truck and heading across the
country, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was not coming back.

She pulled herself off of the floor and went into the kitchen. She
grabbed a bottle of merlot off the wine rack that hung in the breezeway between
the kitchen and the living room. She was strangely comforted by the pop of the
cork and wondered if it was a bad comfort. The bottle glugged as she poured the
deep red liquid into the bulbous glass. She sipped, and the bitterness warmed
her throat.

She shuffled over to the tall leather arm chair that was situated next to
the fireplace, trying to keep her feet in the backless slippers, her glass in
one hand and the bottle in the other. She looked into the flickering flames. Her
eyes burned from the heat, and she was forced to look away. She picked up her
book to try reading again.

Her glasses dangled low on her nose, threatening to fall into her lap. She
found it difficult to concentrate on the words before her, and her mind
wandered back to Michael. He could be here any moment. He could have been here
an hour ago.

She raised herself a bit to get a better look out the window, but she
could see nothing through the thick darkness. Her anxiety increased as she
began thinking of scenarios that would prevent him from being here by now. As
usual, her imagination ran a course from the ridiculous to the absurd. This
only increased her anxiety.

Caitlyn picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone number. It rang
twice and then went to his voicemail. She tried again with the same result. She
got up and paced the room, wine glass in hand. Eventually, she had worn herself
out and decided to go to bed. While setting her glass down on the kitchen counter,
she heard the grinding of tires on her gravel driveway. Her hair flopped
messily in her face as she flew around the corner to investigate the sound. A
pair of headlights flashed through her window, and she backed up slightly.

She raised her arm to cover her eyes as she peered out the window, trying
to determine if it was Michael or someone else. She said a quick prayer, hoping
that Michael had finally come back.

 The headlights switched off, and Caitlyn closed her eyes to readjust for
the second time. She saw the outline of a man walking through the night and
immediately knew that it was him. She excitedly jumped out of her slippers and
skipped to the front door to meet him, but then put on a solemn face when she
opened the door. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Your plane landed three
and a half hours ago. What happened?”

Michael peeled off a sweater and laid it over the back of a chair. “Sorry.
They lost my luggage. I waited around for awhile, but after an hour I just gave
them a number to reach me.” He moved past her into the living room. “Can I stay
here tonight? I don't want to spend another night in a hotel or away from you.”
He was visibly exhausted as he plopped down onto the couch. She moved over to
him and cuddled up next to him. He sighed audibly. “This is exactly what I need
right now.” He ran his fingers through her silky hair and slowly kissed her. It
was an intimate kiss that told her he really did miss her.

She was still a little angry, so she pulled away and asked, “Why didn't
you answer your phone? I tried calling you.”

He ran his finger along the outline of her breast. She wasn't wearing a
bra, so he pushed a hand up her purple tank to feel her skin in his hand. “I
packed my charger in my suitcase, and my phone died. I tried calling you a
couple of times from landlines, but you didn't answer.” He pushed her back on
the couch and began tenderly kissing her neck. Without warning, he sat up. “Margaret
found me while I was there.”

Caitlyn was stupefied. It certainly wasn't what she was expecting right
then. She removed his hand from her shirt and sat up. A questioning “oh” was
the only thing that escaped her lips.

“She wanted to get back together. It was really strange. I told her all
about moving on and away, but she wouldn't let it go. So, I just wanted to let
you know. It' not really that important.” He moved toward her again his eyes
looking fixedly into hers.

“If it's not important, why did you tell me?” Caitlyn was suddenly very
agitated, and she started to pull away from him.

But he moved swiftly and caught her in his arms, “Don't worry about it
right now.”

He pulled through the living room excitedly, and they stood facing one
another before her bed. He ran his hands underneath the tank top that clung to
her tightly and lifted it over her head revealing her creamy breasts. He kissed
her again and she lifted herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his
back. He carefully laid her on the bed, her hair spread beneath her, and he
held himself on top of her. She grabbed his tense arms and then used her legs
to pull him closer to her.

Caitlyn yanked at his navy t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The
sensation of his skin on hers made her sigh with pleasure. She missed feeling
his strength against her. Suddenly she was eager to have him. She reached up to
remove his jeans and then her pajama pants.

He lowered his mouth to her breasts and kissed one all over while
caressing the other. She ran her fingers through his hair as she felt small
waves of pleasure pulsate through her body.

Caitlyn ached with want. She felt small caressing kisses move down the
length of her stomach. She arched her back as he moved closer to her
tenderness. He stopped only to flick his tongue in the folds of her tender
flesh. She moaned loudly. She felt the strength of fulfillment rise from the
depth of her. With a few more tender movements, she fully peaked and hungrily
begged for him to make love to her.

He removed his boxers, and she pulled him back up to her. They rolled
over so that she was on top of him. She sat up and lowered herself onto his hot
member, still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm. She tilted her hips back
and forth slowly, but it wasn't enough for him. He thrust deeply into her. For
a moment he paused to pull her down and hold her strongly against his body. He
moved in and out of her; she could feel the ecstasy rising from her loins
again.

“Oh, God!” she cried as the second wave of pleasure crested over her. She
felt him pulsating inside of her, and after a few moments she collapsed breathless
onto his chest.

He ran his fingers along the length of her spine, and she began giggling hysterically.
She struggled to get away from him and begged him to stop.

“Not a chance. Next to watching you come, this is my favorite part. God,
I've missed the sound of your laughter.” He pulled her close to him, and she
felt his breath against her hair. “I love you, Caitlyn.”

She felt him squeeze her a little bit tighter as if he couldn't get her
as close to his body as he would like. He loved her. Just like that.

“I love you, too.” In saying it, a tingle worked its way from deep in her
stomach across her chest, up her throat, and to the tips of her earlobes.

She hadn't known what true love was until that moment, but in that short
exchange, eight words total, she knew that she had fallen hard and fast. She
closed her eyes and fe1l asleep in the warmth of that feeling.

#

Caitlyn turned and looked at her clock. 3:47. A loud, rapid knock came
from her front door. “What the hell?” She poked Michael's side, and he startled
awake.

“What? What's wrong?” He looked at her with his eyes half open. The knock
came again. “What time is it?”

“Quarter to four,” she yawned. She got out of bed and searched in the
darkness for her pajamas.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to answer it. It has to be really important, right? What if
something is wrong with my mother?”

Michael pushed the covers off of his completely nude body, and she stared
at him for a moment forgetting why she was out of bed. “Wait for me. If it
turns out to be some psycho, I want to be dressed.”

They both took a moment to slip their clothes on and were only hurried by
the insistent knocking. When they both looked basically presentable, Caitlyn pranced
across the cold wood and to the front door, and Michael followed.

Caitlyn cracked it open, “Yes?”

Before her stood a brunette of medium height. She was thin with
well-defined features. She blinked innocently and looked a bit like a lost
child. She wore loose fitting, dark-wash jeans that sat gently on her hips, a green
long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of black ballet flats.

She bit her lip and looked past Caitlyn. “Is Michael Fitzgerald here?”
she said it with a certainty that told Caitlyn she knew he was here.

Michael pulled the door open to reveal himself, “What are you doing here?”
he said. “I told you that we were done.”

The woman shivered, “Do you mind if I come in? It’s really cold out
here.”

Caitlyn was hesitant. “Sure.” She didn’t know what was going on and that
scared her.

She walked past Caitlyn. She had an appeal that Caitlyn knew that she couldn't
match. Her stride was confident, not a hair was out of place, and she was adorable.

The woman moved to Michael and reached for his hand. She got a hold of it
for a moment, but Michael pulled away and shifted his gaze uncomfortably at Caitlyn.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Margaret, I told you in Sacramento that it's over,” he repeated because
she obviously wasn't listening the first time. “There is nothing left to talk
about.” He looked at Caitlyn satisfied with his sternness, but Caitlyn was
still nervous having this woman in her house.

“Please hear me out. It’s really important. I’ll leave as soon as I tell
you, but I have to do it right now. While I have the courage.” Margaret glanced
over at Caitlyn and then shifted her eyes to the floor.

This was Margaret, Caitlyn thought. Caitlyn re-examined her and then
looked down at her own sweat pants and purple camisole. She crossed her arms
across her chest to try and hide her embarrassing outfit and erect nipples, but
no one was paying attention to her. Margaret was naturally beautiful. She
didn’t have to do much to look good. It would take Caitlyn hours to make
herself look as adorable as Margaret did in the middle of the night after what
she assumed was a cross-country flight.

Michael had turned his gaze to Margaret. “It’s four o’clock in the
morning, Margaret. Couldn’t we do this in the morning?”