Dreaming a Reality (9 page)

I got myself together, dressing decently enough in black slacks and a white blouse, and was ready to head out.

I pulled up in the parking lot of the strip mall where Ming Travel was located, got out and walked to the entrance. The jingling of the bell startled him.

“Oh, hey, Kat. It got so quiet in here I was beginning to fall asleep. I’m the only one in the office right now. Please sit down.”

He smiled after every word he spoke. He was a short Asian man with black hair and black-rimmed glasses. I always joked with him about his pin-striped shirts. That’s all he’d ever wear.

I took a seat on the other side of his desk and told him right away why I was there.

“Mr. Ming, I need to take my vacation week early. I was hoping for the last day in November to the end of the first week in December. Is that okay?”

“Let me check the books. I don’t think anyone’s put in for those days, but let me see.”

He pulled out the schedule book from inside his desk, opened it and sifted through the pages. As he pointed down the page with his index finger, he said, “Nope, looks like you’ll be able to take that week off, Katherine.”

“Great, I really appreciate it.”

“Where are you going, if I may ask?”

Mr. Ming was always polite but tended to be on the nosey side. I guess from my history, he was concerned about me and my whereabouts, which I didn’t mind, but I wasn’t about to tell him about Mitch.

“The Bahamas with a friend,” I told him, trying not to blush. I could feel my blood pressure rising. I didn’t want to explain myself any more than I had to.

“Good. You can do a report on the hotel while you’re out there. Where are you staying?”

“Atlantis.”

“Wonderful. I will look forward to your review when you return.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ming.”

We got up off our chairs and shook hands.

It’s settled, I thought as I walked back to my car. I just have to tell Jeremy and make sure he’ll be okay. I made a mental note to tell him once I got home.

Chapter Fifteen

The weekend of hockey games passed, and it was now Monday morning. I was already swamped with phone calls and e-mails. Feeling a little better knowing I had the Bahamas trip to look forward to, even if it was just with Mitch, I still felt apprehensive.

I reminded myself about the discussion I had with him. It was about the same time that I last heard from John, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of him. I wondered how he truly felt about Natalie. I pondered on whether or not to call or e-mail, but for what? What could I say that hadn’t changed things already?

Why keep this charade up when we are not even married anymore? I didn’t have any attachments with him other than Jeremy. It did seem like John wanted to say more, though I hadn’t found out what the “more” was. Perhaps I was afraid to find out. Perhaps I didn’t want to know. I was hurt from when we last spoke and had accumulated question after question, but mainly I was concerned about breaking my own heart again.

I went to wake Jeremy and tell him of my Bahamas plans. I always made certain he knew what was going on with me, even if I omitted who it was with; at least he’d know where I was at. To me and to Jeremy, that was the only important thing right now.

I went into the kitchen and, after he rolled off the couch, he followed me.

“Jeremy, after Thanksgiving I am going to the Bahamas with a friend.”

“A friend? So who is it this time?”

“Oh, Jeremy, stop. It is just a friend, nothing more. His name is Mitch Jorgan.”

“Oh, that guy? Doesn’t he call your cell like a million times a day or somethin’?”

I was surprised he knew and felt the urge to say, ‘What? Are you spying on me now?’ I didn’t. He had every reason to watch over me.

“It’s fine, Jer, I don’t want you to worry. I will give you and Dad numbers just in case of an emergency.”

“Ya, it’s fine, Ma, till…umm, he stalks your ass.”

Instantly, I felt overheated. I was starting to worry and thought of Dean and that dark shadow in the woods. What if he’s stalking me? Nothing was too threatening at this point since I hadn’t heard from him in weeks. No e-mails, no calls, nothing. Maybe the worst was over.

“Jeremy! Don’t say that,” I said to him after pausing for a moment. “Besides, I don’t like you swearing. You are too handsome for that.”

“Sorry, Ma, I couldn’t help it.” He smiled.

Maybe I treated him like a child, as Mitch said. Whatever the case, I just wanted to be sure Jeremy knew.

My plans were to fly out the last day of the month, on a Monday. Mitch made sure to book it during the week to save money―even though he splurged on himself with his cars and suits and fine dining, he was a cheapskate about everything else.

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” I said to Jeremy, standing on my tip-toes to kiss his forehead.

After thinking about what Jeremy said, confirming the fact that Mitch was on the obsessive side, I began to think negatively about the trip. Not that anything bad was going to happen, but just where did Mitch want this relationship to go? After all, he did say he had a miserable marriage, but he didn’t seem insecure about it or anything—like he could take it or leave it. It was just the fact that he was indeed married that bothered me. I didn’t want to come across as the “other woman”, but in all honesty, I was. I rationalized it up down and sideways and kept telling myself I wasn’t the one cheating here. Then again, what if it was the other way around? How would I feel?

I started the dishes and laundry, pondering on the last thought I had of John.

He never actually cheated on me during our marriage, nor did I cheat on him, but my extreme jealousy and accusations of who he was with on his late night occurrences made me worry terribly. It was a big reason for our divorce.

I prepared a breakfast for Jeremy and myself of eggs-over-easy and wheat toast, and then pulled the clothes out of the dryer and started folding towels.

Jeremy sat down in front of the T.V. and flipped back and forth between the Weather Channel and E.S.P.N. I thought of prying into his life a little and even more so, to see what John was up to.

“So, champ, got any hot girls on the side?”

He laughed, practically choking on his toast. “No, Ma. Now will you quit it with the girl-thing. You know I don’t have time for that.”

“All right, all right. I’ll leave that alone and trust you’ll tell me when it does happen, okay, Jeremy Ryan? Got it?”

“God, Ma. Yeah, I got it. Geez.”

“So have you spoken with your dad recently?”

“Ya, yesterday,” he said just before he chugged a gulp of milk. “I told him I need money for a new stick.”

I remembered first signing him up and how excited he was. He truly has come such a long way. John was proud, too, and sort of lived vicariously through his son. Skates alone were seventy dollars or more.

“Yes, the money. That’s right. Can’t forget that. So, anyway, how is Natalie? Is your father making any plans for the wedding? How is that going?”

“What’s with all the questions, Ma?” Jeremy stared at me with a frustrated look.

“Well, I want to know, that’s all. Your dad never says much to me anymore.”

“As far as I know, everything’s still on. Don’t know the details, so don’t ask. It sucks though.”

“Why is that?”

“’Cause she’s a bitch…and don’t get mad at me for sayin’ that word, but it fits her perfect.”

That was the first time Jeremy had expressed his feelings toward Natalie and what was happening. I wanted to hear more, everything in fact, but I tried to play it easy. I didn’t want to scare him off talking.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Yet I did have some idea that he didn’t like her. He’d given some hints of that in the past, but I assumed they got along. “So, how is she, really?”

“Well, for one, she is always telling me what to do, and I can tell I get on her nerves too. She’s always sayin’, ‘If it wasn’t for your dad.′ Then she’ll stop, and I’ll say, ′What? You wouldn’t be here?′” Jeremy paused and checked the time. “Ma, let’s not get into this now. I gotta go.”

“Gosh, sorry to bother you. I was just asking.” I gave him a kiss after he cleaned up his plate. “See you later, buddy. Be careful.” He headed out the door.

I went on to fold and put away clothes. I felt the urge to take another brisk walk but decided to check on my e-mail messages instead. I noticed from the little envelope on the screen that I’d received mail. There was one new message. The subject line read: Dying for you.

I didn’t know who it was from, but opened it anyway. Something inside me wanted to read it. It was a new e-mail address that I wasn’t familiar with, but the subject line made me think of John. What if it was him? I felt stronger this time and less bothered by the whole ordeal of Dean, so I opened it:

Dear Katherine,

I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am for that time I came to visit. I don’t know what came over me. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again, but I am dying to see you, or least talk to you. I called a few times, but you never picked up. Please talk to me. I miss you and desperately need to hear from you.

Still Restless,

D.

He didn’t even put his full name down. What was he trying to prove? Was he insane or something? He’d practically raped me, and in my own home no less, but after reading it, in some weird way I felt sorry for him and did miss the old Dean—the Dean that used to keep me company during the middle of the night. Something inside me felt compelled to answer, but I wasn’t quite sure whether to or not, or how. I knew that with his vulnerable frame of mind, he might become even more depressed and perhaps hurt himself or, worse, someone else. Right now I needed space and didn’t think it was a good idea, so I held back from answering. Lately, his correspondence had seemed to die down. I didn’t worry anymore, so why change that?

Chapter Sixteen

I was losing track of the days. I thought it was Wednesday, yet when I looked at the calendar, it was actually Thursday—a week before Thanksgiving. Todd had left a message on my cell to call him as soon as possible, and it sounded urgent. Again the lump in my throat started to rise. I was feeling nauseous.

It was around ten in the morning and I was getting some work done. The family that wanted to go to Orlando had requested more information on hotels in the area and wanted to know about all the deals. They squabbled over which one was better—Days Inn or the Comfort Suites―and wanted all the comparisons. The old couple’s Carnival cruise was all set. I replied to more e-mails and responded to a few incoming calls, and all the while my heart pounded about the Todd call. I pulled myself together to hear what Todd had to say; it was now time, and I was ready…well, sort of.

I dialed his number, and he picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, Todd. It’s me.”

“Kat, I’ve been wanting to talk with you for days now. Are you getting my calls?”

“No, I didn’t have anything on my cell. You know I check my messages all the time.”

“I didn’t call your cell. I called the house.”

I walked over to the answering machine and saw that the light was still blinking. I’d been so preoccupied by the Bahamas trip and work that I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t thought to check since all I usually received on the house line were telemarketers’ calls.

“Sorry, I must have missed them. What’s wrong?”

“Mom’s really sick. The chemotherapy isn’t working, Kat. She’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, God, this can’t be happening.”

My heart felt like lead in my chest. I hadn’t spoken to her in so long I’d forgotten what her voice sounded like.

“You need to call Dad.”

“I did call, Todd, but I never got a call back.”

“Dad’s been so busy at the hospital, maybe he didn’t see the message. Besides, you know he doesn’t know how to work the answering machine. You’d better go visit him. You need to see her before she…” Todd’s voice trailed off.

“I know, Todd. I will. As soon as I get off the phone with you, I will call.”

He didn’t go into detail, but I knew now was the time to step it up. I would demand to see her even if she didn’t want my visit. Ironically enough, they lived just eight blocks from me. They were so close, yet so far away.

After I got off the phone with Todd, I went outside for a smoke to try to calm my nerves, but I felt the panic rising. My upper lip began to sweat, and I thought about how my mom must be in so much pain right now. I thought of a lot of things.

One day, when I was young, I had walked home from school and was followed by two girls. They stopped me just before I could get over the tracks, and they jumped me. My mother was across on the other side walking our dog Buddy at the time, and she screamed and ran to me as fast as she could. As I heard my mom calling out, I tightened my fists and punched one of the girls as hard as I could. “Fight back, Katherine. Fight!” my mother shouted.

I was surprised, since she never condoned fighting, but when it came time, she knew I needed to—needed to fight for my life.