“A cappuccino please.” Maggie reached for her bag to pay, but Catherine waved her away.
While Catherine went up to the counter to order, Maggie tried to rehearse what she might say, and then decided that there was no best way to confess that you’d been lying. She needed to come
straight out with it.
When Catherine settled in the seat opposite, she took a deep breath.
“I’m glad we have this chance to talk privately. There are a few important things I have to say.”
“Me too, but can I start by saying thank you to you for at least agreeing to listen. I thought you’d be furious. You probably are furious, and I don’t blame you for that at all. I’m furious with myself. Thank you for at least giving me a hearing.”
Maggie was thrown. “A hearing? I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure you don’t. There are so many things I need to explain, but I thought it was best if we did it somewhere private so we’re not interrupted. I’ve been dreading this all morning. And talking about this morning, I apologize for walking in like that. I was going to slide my envelope with my suggestions for your romantic day under the door and leave the pastries outside, but then the door was open and I saw everyone else inside and assumed you were up and around.”
“That’s the least of our worries.” Maggie wanted to forget about the fact that half of Colorado had seen her in bed with Nick.
Catherine picked up her spoon and poked at her coffee. “This is my fault. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Start by telling me how you can possibly think any of this is your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s Nick and I.”
Catherine frowned. “Why?”
Maggie didn’t understand why Catherine wasn’t angry, then realized it was because she didn’t have the facts. “You go first. Then I’ll go.”
“All right.” Catherine sat back in her chair. “When my husband died, I—well, let’s say it was a tough time. There were mornings when I didn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t. I lay there, wallowing in misery and self-pity. Why him? Why me? All the usual thoughts that you don’t want to admit to because you’re not proud of them. Dan was away at college, and I knew he was worried about me. I pretended I was fine. I spoke to him in a bright, cheery voice, told him I was keeping busy.”
“But you weren’t.”
“No, and I guess he sensed that. He insisted on coming home, so I knew I had to pull myself together. I’d told him all these lies about how I was keeping busy, so I had to find something to be busy with. I was telling a friend about it and she suggested I help organize her wedding. It was her second marriage, she was working full-time and hating every minute of arranging details. I took everything off her hands. I did it so that Dan wouldn’t worry about me, but within weeks I was feeling better. I had a reason to get up in the morning. Something to work for. I told myself I was doing it so that my friend could carry on working and not have a stress attack, but really I was doing it for myself. I had never imagined work could be therapy, but that’s how it turned out. Also turned out that I was good at it. It was a big wedding. Word spread. I was invited to do more. What began as a hobby turned into a business. Soon I needed an assistant. And I loved what I was doing. I’d never had a career. I met Jonny in college, and Dan arrived almost right away. Jonny was so busy building his business, I wanted to support him. And many would think that was an old-fashioned approach, I know.”
“It was your choice,” Maggie said, thinking of her own life up until this point. “It was what you wanted.”
“Yes. There was nothing I wanted more than to be Dan’s mother, but equally once Jonny died there was nothing I wanted more than to show my son I was okay. He’s very protective. I didn’t want him worrying about me, and doing something stupid like give it all up to come home. You raise a child to be independent. I understood that. You raise them to leave, even though the leaving breaks your heart into pieces.” Catherine rummaged in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I cried for weeks when Rosie left home, but don’t tell her.” Maggie reached across the table and took her hand. “I think you’re inspiring. And brave.”
“I don’t know about that. Anyway, when Dan first brought Rosie home I could see right away how much he loved her. He was devastated when he lost his father and seeing him so happy was a huge relief to me. I felt excited, as if we were entering a whole new phase of life.” She pulled her hand from Maggie’s and picked up her coffee. “I’m telling you this because it may have contributed to the way I behaved.”
“I don’t understand.”
Catherine put the cup down. “From the moment Dan proposed, I took over. I was the one who suggested they get married at Christmas. And I did it at a big noisy family dinner, without thinking that it would mean sweet Rosie wouldn’t be able to express her views on it.”
“If she’d had doubts, she would have said so.”
“We both know she probably wouldn’t. She’s a kind, generous girl. And I do believe she loves Dan, otherwise I never would have pushed so hard. I don’t really know why I did, except that getting married at Christmas seemed romantic and I wanted the two of them to start their new happy life immediately.” Her eyes filled again. “I all but hauled her down to that dress shop. Looking back on it, I could see she was a little panicky, but did I hold back? No, I told myself bridal nerves were normal. I didn’t want to think that maybe this was all moving along too quickly. And I didn’t think about you. She’s your girl. Your baby. And I was doing all the things a mother should do.”
“Catherine, please!” Maggie leaned forward. “Stop torturing yourself. I wasn’t here to do those things, so I was grateful to you for doing them. And grateful to you for your kindness to our daughter.”
“I love her. That part isn’t in question. But my affection probably contributed to the fact I railroaded her.”
It wasn’t easy having children, Maggie thought. It wasn’t easy getting the balance right. She saw that so much more clearly now. Love and caring could so easily turn into smothering, and it wasn’t easy to know where to draw the line.
She sat up a little straighter. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. If she’d had doubts, about the relationship or the speed of the wedding, she should have talked to Dan.”
Catherine sniffed. “You think so?”
“Yes.” Maggie said it firmly, to convince both of them. “If they’re adult enough to get married, they’re adult enough to sort out any problems they encounter.”