Don't Explain (32 page)

The lights were still on at Michael's house when she arrived. She ran up
the stairs to the front door and burst through. “Michael?” she screamed. “Michael?”

She leaped up the stairs and stepped out from the hallway to the top of
the staircase. Their bodies hovered one inch away from another, and she
struggled not to fall into him. She looked up at him, and he looked back down
at her. She felt tears rising to her eyes.

“You can't hurt me again. I don't think I'd survive,” she said.

“Caitlyn, I will never not choose you again. I will not hurt you. I love
you.”

“I love you, too.” They leaned in toward one another and kissed hard. All
the magic that she had been looking for was there in that kiss and for several
moments they just clutched one another tightly.

He pulled away from her. She noticed that his eyes were red from crying,
too. Michael held her face in his hands, “
Je t'aime, mon ange.”

“It’s so small. I don’t think that it will work.”

Michael pushed Cat Murphy’s wheelchair further into Caitlyn’s cottage
while she looked around with squinted eyes that Caitlyn knew were looking for something
to criticize.

“It’s better, Mom. You’ll be closer to us, and I can visit more often and
get you the things you need. I can work on rebuilding the coffee shop. Plus
Charlotte will be here with you all day in case something happens. Most
importantly, there are no stairs.” Caitlyn had been giving the same spiel for
the last week.

For the first few months of Cat’s recovery, Caitlyn had been the dutiful
daughter who waited on her mother hand and foot, and she knew that if she
stayed in her mother’s house with her much longer, she would go insane.

Michael had come up with the idea: Caitlyn would live with him, and Cat
would take over Caitlyn’s cottage with a caregiver during the day. Though he played
off as for Caitlyn’s sake, she knew that he wished she was closer and that they
could see each other more often. It was hard for them to be intimate with a
60-year-old woman constantly making demands on them.

Michael smiled at Caitlyn and then said to Cat, “Plus, if you need a
doctor, I’m a lot closer.”

“Well, we can try it out, but I don’t know how long it’s going to last.”

Caitlyn sighed. Her mother was finicky, but Caitlyn might be the one that
killed the idea before it was every really executed.

“I’ll be right back.” She might as well find out now, so they could bring
her mother straight back to Worcester if they had to. There was no point in her
living in Maple Field if Michael kicked her out.

Caitlyn went to the bathroom and dug into her big purse to find the
pregnancy test she purchased a couple hours earlier. She was only a little
late—two weeks—and her breasts ached a little, but that was probably just PMS.
Of course she was never late, and she never had that symptom of PMS, so she had
to at least check.

She carefully placed the plastic stick on the back of the toilet and
looked at her watch before moving away. She couldn’t look at it during the two
minutes, it was too stressful. She’d rather wait and have a definite answer.

She had barely finished moving her stuff into Michael's house when she
realized that she could be pregnant. If she was, it would significantly change
the dynamic of their relationship. She cursed herself for moving too quickly,
for not being more careful, and strangely, she feared his reaction.

Anxious, Caitlyn sat on the edge of the bath tub. Her leg bounced
erratically as she looked at her watch hoping the final thirty seconds would at
least
seem
quicker than the last minute and a half. Filling her lungs
with a deep, calming breath, she moved to the sink, washed her hands, and
splashed water on her face before looking at the test.

“Pregnant.”

“Okay, then. Okay. It’s going to be alright.” She took another deep
breath and left the bathroom with the stick in her hand.

Michael met her in the bedroom and said, “You have to come see this. Your
mom turned on the TV. Margaret pled out. She’s going to prison for ten years.”

Caitlyn walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and
squeezed him tightly. He kissed her on the top of the head. “What wrong,
amour
de ma vie
? Why do you look sad? I thought this would make you at least a
little happy.”

Caitlyn swallowed the tears that were threatening to break through. “I’m
not sad. It’s just… well,
something unexpected has happened.” She could not look at him. He was
going to think that she was another Margaret, trying to trap him.

“Whatever it is we can handle it. Right?” She nodded. “So out with it,”
he said.

She bit her lip and then let it run out of her mouth rapidly. “You're
going to be a father.”

Michael quickly pulled away from her and looked into Caitlyn's eyes. “I
am?”

“You are, and just so we are clear, I am going to be a mother.”

“You are? Are you sure?” He looked at her with intensity.

Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, gripping the test tightly in her hand;
she still wasn't sure how this was going. “I am. Do you want proof?”

His mouth began to turn upward. He gently squeezed her. “Why would I need
proof from you? I trust you. This is amazing.”

Caitlyn tossed the pregnancy test in the trash can beside the bed and
then pulled herself against him, rose on her toes, and kissed him. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I still open the coffee shop?”

Michael smiled. “If that’s what you want to do. I’ll even call that
reporter again and have him do another story.

“I knew it!” She gave him a little shove, but he held on to her tightly
and didn’t move far.

“But I think it should wait until after the wedding.”

Caitlyn looked up at him, her eyebrows scrunched in, “What wedding?”

Michael dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. “Ours.”

Caitlyn heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

“I was going to wait until later, but,” he opened the box.

Caitlyn quickly nodded and said, “Yes.”

“I didn’t ask you anything yet.” Michael smiled. “But I’m going to hold
you to that answer.”

Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck. “You’d better.”

The End