Catherine Ch 08

I live for the moment I hear that catch in her throat with our first kiss. Her breathing getting heavier with each tender touch, and caress of her sensitive places, I wait for those three words she will not say..., yet.

Catherine Chapter 8

Assumptions -- don't!

From the time John and I left the cafeteria I've been checking my cell phone for anything from Catherine. An because we're supposed to have them off, everyone just puts them on vibrate. Frank tolerates it as long as it doesn't become too much of a distraction. Unfortunately, any vibrating of my phone wasn't caused by something from Catherine.

An now that our lunch time arrives, an instead of going to the cafeteria with John, and some of the other guys, I grab my jacket, and head outside to take a walk in the cold air, hoping it will clear my head. Along with that, it's toying with the thought of calling her. But, I got the definite impression she didn't want to hear from me.

So instead, its buying a soft pretzel from a sidewalk pretzel vendor. An slow walk north several blocks, then west one block before turning south, which will take me back towards the plaza, and my building across from it.

But when crossing over to enter the plaza from the north end, where I can't keep from looking over at that glass, and stainless steel building with the big letters, IIG on top -- wondering of course, if she's in her office -- as I count the floors and windows to where her office is. But she did say she would be having lunch with those people from out of town so, she may be out with them anyway.

My afternoon has been going pretty much the way the morning went. With me absentmindedly checking my cell phone, even though the only important time it buzzed was just before class started this morning with a text from Banjo telling me, "Ur truck is home."

An with Frank out of the room I sent back, "Take it back to the train station, will need it to get home tonight." And almost instantly he returned with, "Fuck You...walk!" Which made me laugh. Where it's most likely the only laugh I'll have today -- maybe for many days to come too.

An when at last four-thirty arrives, where the class breaks up, and guys head out the door for the elevator except for me, I take the stairs. But when about half way down my phone vibrates, it's Catherine with a text, "where r u." Her question.

But waiting till I get to the bottom of the stairs where I text back, "Going to the cafeteria - wait for shopper crowds to clear train station."

An with out a reply, I get a cup of coffee an sit down by a window, doing what I usually do, wait for the crowds to thin.

But after sitting here for some time longer than usual, where I've finished my coffee, and getting nothing back from her. An looking at my watch to see it's well after five o'clock, I'll wait fifteen more minutes. An if I don't hear back from her by them, I'll leave for the train station. The long cold walk, being even colder tonight.

But with my time line almost up it's a buzz on my cell phone, a text from Catherine again asking, "where r u

Texting back, "Still in cafeteria waiting - Y?"

"Stay there, we need to talk." Her text.

An replying back with, "when & where?"

Then back from her, "I'll get back to U."

An me replying back, "when?"

An back from her, "I don't know yet."

"OK C, but only 4 a little while." Is my reply back to her.

Bull shit! I'm not staying here. An getting up to walk outside where the chill evening air just adds to my sullen mood. Now this thought -- I know, I'll go back to the 19th Street Pup and have a drink. I don't drink much, plus I definitely don't drink alone. But right now I feel more alone than I've felt in a long time.

An when entering the Pub, first looking to the left, then to the right where I see the cocktail table she and I were sharing last night is available. An thinking, what a more appropriate place to hear what know I don't want to hear.

An taking the chair Catherine sat in last night so I can watch who comes and goes -- a habit developed for seeing trouble before it sees me. An when the server comes over to ask if I'd like to order something. An replying, "Yes, a vodka and bitter lemon please." But as she starts leave it's with me asking her, "Is the server who was on last evening here tonight?"

"If you mean Heather, no." She replies. "Her shift ended at four. Does she know you?" She's asking.

"No." Telling her. "But the friend I was here with last evening left her a message -- I was just wondering if she got it?" My follow up question.

"Sorry sir, I wouldn't know." Her reply,

"That's okay, just curious. My friend would know if she did."

With that the server leaves, and returns soon with my vodka and bitter lemon.

Where its a few sips as I'm staring out the window, watching the evening traffic going by -- where everything she said this morning is rerunning in head.

Then pulling my head out of that an looking at my watch -- I'll give her another thirty minutes. If she doesn't show up, or call by then, I'll chalk things up to..., what; wishful thinking again?

Finishing my drink a few minutes before I was set to leave my cell phone vibrates; it's Catherine. An with just my, "Hello." I hear, "It's me." she says.

"Yes I know!"

"Where are you?" she ask

"I'm at the 19th Street Pub where I've just finished my drink, an was about to leave for the train station, then home." Replying.

"Don't leave. I'll be there in a few minutes." she says.

"Alright Catherine, I'll wait." in reply.

An with her curt, "Bye." The call drops.

Where now its thinking, what can I say to salvage this thing. I know I can be a jerk sometimes. And I know I'm most definitely in love with her! And I also know it will be a long, long time; if ever, before I get over her too.

But lost in those thoughts as I'm staring out the window again until some minutes later I see her walk by, then look over to watch the front entrance. Where a few seconds later its the hostess talking with with her, as Catherine points to me. But as she's coming towards where I'm sitting, she's also taking off her coat. Where I think, if she's taking off her coat, perhaps she intends to stay -- she did say we needed to talk. A glimmer of hope?

But when she gets to the table, her only acknowledgment that I'm here is a cool look. After that, she puts her coat over the empty chair before she steps up, and sitting down in the chair across the table from me an stares out the window.

Where I want to say hello, or something, anything. But its the server interrupting with her asking Catherine if she would like something to drink.

At that Catherine looks at me, and ask, "What are you drinking?" Very curtly in her asking it. "My usual, vodka and bitter lemon." Calmly replying back.

With that its Catherine's telling the server, "I'll have what he's having." Where I ask, "What, no Chablis tonight?"

Where the look I get from her tells me I should not have said that!

Then with her staring out the window again, its not another word spoken between us until the server returns with her wine. But after taking a few sips of the wine, an setting it glass down on the table, is where she looks at me with, "Bob..., don't EVER..., make assumptions about me! She says. "Remember, I said something about that, and men making them." Her lecturing me.

"Yes Catherine I remember. So what assumptions have I made?" Stone face looking back at her. Plus not being addressed like that gets my jaw tightening, I know she can read -- it's my Marine Corps rank getting in the way, as I turn my head to look out the window -- easy Swaggart.

"Instead of letting it die then an there Bob." She comes back, "You went on with, "I assume it was the husband of my married friends." Then the stupid, ignorant remark about my love life. First Swaggart, THAT, is none of your damn business! Second, my relationship with that couple is very private, and extremely personal!" A very stern lecture from her. Where I expect her to get up and leave after that.

"Yes, Catherine. You certainly let me know how personal it is." Turning my head back to look at her.

Not good Swaggart!

Where it's her look that tells me, I shouldn't have said that either!"

Then my quickly saying, "Catherine..., I told you, and especially with you, I may stick my foot in my mouth..., a lot. I didn't mean to intrude into your life. Especially what you have with them."

"But honestly Catherine, I am curious about that. You are such a beautiful, intelligent, so openly honest and fascinating women, that I can't help wanting to know everything there is about you. An you're right! My, "assumption," finger quotes too. Was uncalled for. And your right with this too, I should have just let it die."

Like I've been doing all day!

"Yes Bob, I think you certainly should have!" She comes back at me. "Bob..., I may, or may not tell you what you might want to know about me. But if I do tell you anything, it will be on my terms, and when I'm ready -- if I tell tell you anything at all! So, like I told you already, there have been other men who have made, assumptions about me, and they're still smarting over it!" Her stern reminder.

"Yes Catherine, like..., my ego, and the rest of me have been all day!"

Where her expression hasn't changed to acknowledge my predicament.

"So then Catherine, you're telling me this is a time I need to apologize. And not by just saying, I'm sorry?"

Knowing I would crawl naked on my belly through a mine field covered in rusty barbed wire, and broken glass, just to kiss her ass.

An still, with both of us staring back at each other, I see a definite coolness in her eyes as she says, "Yes.., it..., is!"

"Alright Catherine I promise..., I won't pry into your private life. I also promise to tread very lightly when it comes to anything else about you. Plus, I will also tell you anything you may want to know about me. But..., and like I told you, there are limits to what I may tell you too."

Where her expression softens slightly just before her, " Go to hell Swaggart!"

"Yeah, like I've been there Catherine..., and again, all day today!" My answer being the truth, that hell part especially.

"Good!" she says. "I'm glad to hear it!" Her coldly replying.

Which has me thinking, the woman is not only beautiful, she has a hell of a mean streak too!

"Catherine you're killing me girl. Turning my head slowly from side to side. And it's cold blooded murder!" An her smug look tells me she knows it too.

"So..., how did your meetings go today -- well I hope?" My asking, hoping to get us off the subject we've been talking about.

"It's been a long day Bob!" she says. "But I think things are on hold for now. Nothing is going to change, at least in the near future. But I'll be meeting with them again sometime in the next few weeks."

"Well, can I ask what it was all about?" Trying to keep away from the other subject.

"Bob, there are some people in our organization who think the program is to expansive, and to expensive." She says.

"Where they would like to make some changes to it because they don't believe the facts, and figures we've been presenting every quarter. Which..., have been showing how much of a success the programs have been in helping those it's been designed to help."

"Wow, bean counters, huh?" My asking.

"Yes." she replies. "Plus some micro managers who think they can do it better with less."

"So, you convinced them to hold off on any cuts, or changes?" my asking now.

"Yes!" she says, in reply.

"Good for you! So how did you manage that if they didn't believe the facts, or the numbers to begin with Catherine?"

"I went back to their hotel, and fucked them!" She says. An just as straight faced and cool as she can be. Of course knowing she's saying it facetiously.

I don't know what she expected as far as a reaction from me. But I'm a rock -- not even a blink. As the seconds tick by with out another thing being said, or do our eyes ever leave each others until my, "Well Catherine, at least they'll have a good nights' sleep before they have to travel back to where ever they came from." Sticking my neck out again.

Sill watching her face, which hasn't changed one bit. Then out of that beautiful mouth I hear, "Fuck you to Swaggart!" Quite blunt.

"Yeah Catherine? That's not the first time I've had that hurled at me." Where I think that was uncalled for, my stone cold expression looking back at her.

"Bob...," she says now. "After Jon and I were married, and the house was finished, I really had nothing to do -- so I went back to school. Then one weekend at a dinner party at Jon's parents I was introduced to a man who's a vice president in IIG. Who, has a son that was severely injured by a road side bomb during his deployment in first Iraq. Who, was having all kinds of psychological issues; not to mention dealing with his physical injures." Begins her narrative.

"Bob, this vice president wanted to initiate a program within IIG to help others, like his son, get the help they needed. But he needed more information on programs, where they existed, that were available, and successful. And if they didn't exist, create them, and fund them. But he needed ammunition to support his proposals Bob."

Where she goes on with, "So after talking with him for over an hour while he was also asking me some questions, many unrelated to the subject of what he wanted to do."

"An me, telling him about my being a military brat. Also telling him about my mothers divorce, and the death of my stepfather, and what we went through with that loss. An when we finished he asked me if I wanted a job -- telling me he was looking for people with backgrounds such as mine, who would look at it from their personal experience."

"Bob, I immediately said yes!"

"An when I told this same thing to Jon, who wasn't so keen on me working, especially for an insurance company. But he understood my need to be doing something important."

"But it was Jon's father who thought, "What would people think about one of his daughter's in-law having to work? You mean, his oldest son couldn't provide for his wife?"

"Like he even had anything to say in the matter; the son of a bitch!"

Wow. That last remark sets me wondering.

"So, after I worked a year as a research assistant gathering facts, figures, statistics, case studies on everything, and anything I could find on active, discharged, and retired veterans with anything related to accidents, injuries, combat or not. Also, anything relating to emotional, or psychological issues."

"After that Bob, I spent months collating, and organizing that information. Then it was several more months of distributing that information to anyone requesting it on any of the subjects, fact or figures I researched. Then it was, thank you Catherine for all your hard work -- we may be getting back to you."

"Where I thought, that was it?"

"So instead of being a spoiled lady of leisure like the other woman in Jon's family Bob. I went back to school, but only for one semester. Because one evening I got a phone call from this vice president wanting to know if I would come to work as his administrative assistant on this program that was being instituted within IIG. Of course I said yes; I'd love to, I told him"

"Where a year later I got promoted to the job I have now.

"An where I've put my heart and sole into it for the last five years. An I would do just about anything to keep it from being burdened with unnecessary funding cuts, or tinkering from, "bean counters or micro managers." She's saying.

"Who are looking at just dollar signs instead of the results. Which, I showed them today, was proof of the company's investment in this program was paying off in saved lives, saved families, and saved futures for every one it's been helping."

Her taking a break now. Where I almost stick my foot in my mouth by saying something about the, "fucking them," wasn't really necessary then. I can be dumb, but not that dumb! So to get her mind back to now and me, "Did you take time to have lunch so they could absorb what you presented to them -- giving yourself a break too Catherine?"

"Yes and no Bob." she answers. "We ordered lunch in, and continued with the meetings. With only restroom breaks, or time outs to make, or reply to phone calls, or e-mails"

"So what did you have for lunch?' My asking, just to keep her on the subject, instead of on me.

"I had a salad, and a diet ice tea," Is what she tells me.

"That's it? All day Catherine?" really surprised.

"Yes." She replies.

Looking at her in disbelief at what she just told me.

"Would you like something to eat now Catherine?" my asking. "We can go into the dining room..., get away from the activity in here."

At the same time thinking, or hoping she'll relax, and lose some of the tension she's feeling towards me.

But it's not what I hoped to hear when she says, "No Bob. I'm really tired, and it's been one long, and stressful day. So I think I'll just go home." She's telling me now.

"Sure thing Catherine, I've known lots of those days too. But going home was never an option then." Certainly truth in that!

"Okay then. I'll get the server and take care of the drinks."

An while waiting to catch the servers eye, "Wait a minute Bob." Catherine's saying. "Maybe if I do eat something I'll feel better. So lets go to the dining room." Catherine, her look a little softer now.

Maybe the realization of what I just said about, "going home not being an option for me." Pales to her getting into her sports car, and driving home.

The server, who's looking our way, comes over where I tell her we're moving to the dining room. Also asking if she will be our server over there too. Replying, "Yes, an I'll have the hostess seat you." She says.

Then following her to where she's telling the hostess we would like a table. But it's Catherine interrupting asking for a booth, where she's pointing to one on the far side of the room.

So after being seated, and ordering fresh drinks, where this time Catherine orders the Chablis, as I pick up a menu the hostess left behind, and begin reviewing the items.

Knowing too, the food and the portions here are always generous -- it's what's referred to as "Tavern food." And another good thing too, you can order anything on the menu up until thirty minutes before closing time, but only for take out.

But after sitting here with nothing exchanged other than a word or two about something on the menu. Where I'm beginning to think the subject I wanted to get away from is still very much on her mind. But the server returning with our drinks interrupts the silence when she ask if we're ready to order.

"Yes, I am." my telling her. Where I look over at Catherine for some reply. An without a look back, or to the server, "Yes." she says. "I'd like a mushroom, Cheddar cheese, and asparagus omelet. And please ask them to hold everything else." she says

Where I'm thinking, asparagus? Yuck! That stuff makes your pee smell like asparagus. But not saying that out loud.

"An your order sir?" the server asking me. " I'll have the club sandwich on whole wheat toast with extra mayo, extra bacon, crisp, and what ever the default that comes with it will be fine too."

"It's fries, and a slice of kosher dill pickle." The server replying. I love kosher dill pickles, but they always come back on me.

An with a glance over at Catherine, where I think I see a slight head movement indicating, no. I take that to mean she doesn't care for the pickle. "Yes, that will be fine." As I'm closing the menu, telling the server.

Then taking a long swallow of my drink, before lounging back into the corner on my side of the booth. Where I look across the table watching Catherine who has done the same -- but she's not looking back at me.