The Gingerbread Boy (27 page)

She smelled of baby powder and shampoo. Her lips suggested a faint taste of mint. He reached beneath her nightgown to caress skin as soft as the satiny fabric she wore.

“I need you,” she whispered, kissing his ear lobe. “Love me.”

Daniel groaned, and closed his eyes, lost in the temptation. Never had he felt such desire. Slowly he turned over, burying her beneath him as her body molded into his. His mouth went hungrily down on hers. He tugged the straps of her gown, relishing the touch of her hands sliding up and down his back. He knew full well that this might be their only time together like this; their only time, ever. It was now, or never.

Then the truth jabbed into his mind.

Catherine wasn’t herself. She was grieving and vulnerable. This would be taking advantage of a very fragile state of mind.

But this
might
be
our
only chance!

He loved her. Loved her more than his own life.

And that’s what made him release her and pull himself to his knees.

She gazed up at him with confusion.

“You sleep on the bed, I’ll take the floor,” he said as calmly as possible as he dragged himself off of her.

“What’s wrong?” Catherine asked, her eyes wide.

Daniel replaced the gown’s straps over her shoulders. Then he stroked her cheek, and settled next to her on the bed.

“It’s been a traumatic day for you,” he said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

Catherine pulled herself to her elbows. “I know I’ve been acting weird, but I also know that you would never use me. It
would
be right.”

Daniel sighed, looked away. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t.”

Catherine shook her head. “You don’t always have to walk the straight and narrow, Daniel. No one is watching you now.”

Daniel looked deep into her eyes. Maybe it would have been better to pretend he was still sleeping when she’d tickled his feet. “Please try and understand,” he said, “I will
not
take advantage of you.”

Catherine stared wordlessly at him, hurt swimming in her eyes. But slowly it transformed into a look of resignation, as though she realized, at last, that maybe he’d been right about this all along. “Will you sleep next to me, then? Just hold me?” she asked, “I need you close to me. That’s all I really want.”

Daniel slowly swung his weakened legs back onto the bed and curled next to her. He kicked the blanket up toward them and spread it out with his free arm. Then he kissed her forehead and they lay together, content with the feel of each other’s beating heart.

****

The breeze brought the smell of the ocean over the moonlit waters of Chesapeake Bay. Catherine sat on a boulder, digging her toes into the sand, and watched Daniel wade along the shoreline several feet away. Behind her rose a sixty-foot fortress of sandstone, obliterating much of the sky. Except for the occasional call of a seagull and the slurp of the tide, it was silent and dreamlike. There wasn’t even a fishing boat in sight at five o’clock in the morning. She and Daniel seemed to be the only two people around.

Just what she preferred.

They’d spent the previous day sightseeing along picturesque fishing villages of the coast. But there’d been
so
many people. Everywhere she’d turned the world seethed with nameless bodies walking, scurrying, and chatting in an inane babble that gnawed insidiously at her bones. And she had no idea why. Or, did she?

Maybe it was because Hazel’s funeral would be held later today, and she doubted even one of those countless people knew about it, or cared. They just went on with their dull little lives in blissful ignorance of the world’s terrible loss.

She watched Daniel straighten in knee-deep water, then hold still, facing statue-like toward the rosy glow of dawn. The breeze blew his hair away from his face as he stood with his back toward her. She wished she could see his expression, but all she could see was his hair contrasted against his white T-shirt and the frays of his cut-offs caught by the wind.

He’d been exceptionally quiet, too. Something was bothering him. It was more than their loving but chaste sleeping arrangements these past few days that bothered her about his demeanor. Some deeper trouble harbored inside of him, and she hoped he’d tell her about it soon, when he sensed she was stronger. But she felt he’d hold it in for now, feeling she was the one who needed the most support. Apparently, she did. Something angry and raw festered inside of her, clawing to get out. It was getting more and more difficult to push back and ignore the nameless anxiety haunting her.

At last Daniel turned to slosh through the water toward her. She didn’t look up until she saw his bare feet in the sand below her and felt his hands rest on her shoulders.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said.

Catherine nodded. “I just wish that the time between now and when I feel better would scrunch up so it’d be over with sooner.”

“You need that stretch of time to heal. That’s when you learn to deal with it.”

Catherine looked hard into Daniel’s eyes. She didn’t want to be a burden to him. She hoped to one day accept and overcome her grief; what she feared most was whether she’d ever overcome the guilt. She looked away, tears filling her eyes. A saucy old lady she hadn’t written to nearly enough had loved her enough to give her the money to go back and finish college… to complete her dream. Hazel had taught her courage, wisdom and self-confidence.
Had given her a mansion that she didn’t deserve.

Catherine shook her head as the guilt rose to the surface and took hold of her. “Sometimes I wish I’d never met Hazel, Daniel! Wish she’d never brought that poor cat into the office. Then I’d always think she was just a nasty old witch like everyone else did. Crazy old ‘Witch Hazel.’ I’d never have to feel this terrible. Maybe that would have been better.”

Daniel looked stunned. “I don’t think you mean that.”

Catherine stood up, forcing Daniel to back away. “I do mean it. It must be a lot easier to hate someone than to love them.”

“I doubt you’ve ever really hated someone, not even Calvin or Beth,” Daniel said. “Hate is a terrible thing.”

Catherine spun away from him and put her hands over her ears. Her head felt like an overloaded washing machine, clunking and pushing and ready to either shut down or explode. She closed her eyes and drew in the deepest breath she could take. She had to calm down, had to focus! But it grew even more impossible to push back the quiet whispers of guilt that kept intruding onto the edges of her consciousness. “I wish I could hate her,” she grimaced, fighting the conflicting emotions swelling inside of her like a toxic stew. “I feel like I’m falling apart and I can’t stand it!” She reached down, plucked up a large shell and flung it as hard as she could against the cliffs. It smashed into pieces and dropped to the ground, leaving a chalky white stain against the rocks.

Catherine’s jaw dropped at her own lack of control. She was a phony, nothing but a phony! And Daniel was witnessing her self-destruct.

Suddenly she found herself running down the beach, leaping over driftwood and dead fish. She vaguely heard Daniel call out to her, but she could not listen, and just ran faster. Ran until she was gasping and choking and stumbling over her own feet. Time blurred. She didn’t know how long it was before she felt hands around her waist, pulling her back. Her legs became tangled in someone else’s, and then she was falling. A heaviness collided with her.

“You can’t run from it!” Daniel said in her ear, as stern as she’d ever heard his voice. Then she was on her back in the wet sand and Daniel was straddled over her, pinning her hands into the dirt.

“You can’t run.” He said, catching his breath. “I know. I’m a master at running. My mother still calls me the ‘Gingerbread Boy’ because I still run away from things like the cookie man did in the fable. But you know what happened to that little gingerbread guy? The fox got him in the end. So you can’t run. You can’t pretend troubles aren’t all around you. You have to face them.”

Catherine’s voice sounded husky and foreign in her ears. “But I can’t! I don’t know how.”

Daniel’s hands pressed more firmly around her wrists. “You must. You
will
survive this. The world needs you.”

Catherine began to sob uncontrollably. “But I let her down. I didn’t write her like I should have. I didn’t appreciate her like I should have, or let her know how much I loved her. She died before even meeting you, or Joanne, or even watching me graduate. How can I live with that? How can I ever bear such a thing?”

“I guess you just have to go on. Go on and become the best person, the best student, and the best veterinarian you can be. Honor her memory that way.”

Exhausted, Catherine went limp. Finally she mustered enough energy to nod.

Daniel was right. He was always right.

****

Over two hundred gawking townspeople watched as Hazel Van Hoofstryver’s coffin lowered into its grave that hazy Monday morning.

Catherine and Daniel stood far in the back, hands held solemnly together, eyes lowered. No one noticed them. No one cared. All eyes were dry, insipidly staring as dirt was shoveled into grave. Somewhere deep in the crowd a young voice could be heard humming, “Ding dong, the witch is dead.”

****

It was twelve-thirty in the afternoon and the gawkers had finally gone home. “I want to go see my mother,” Catherine said, the first words she’d uttered since Hazel was laid to rest.

Daniel put his arm around Catherine’s shoulders as they strolled to the parking lot.

He was glad, so glad Catherine finally wanted to see her mother. A daughter needed her mother in times like this, and Mrs. Sealey would probably welcome that need, whether she was drunk, sober, or someplace in-between.

He was shocked when Catherine took his hand and led him on an angle through the maze of headstones. She silently gestured for him to stop beneath one scraggly pine, where a tiny square headstone lay flat in the grass. As they stared down at it, Daniel read the name on the headstone and his heart did a tiny flip.

Hi, Mom,” Catherine murmured, “I’m finally back.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was dawn when Catherine peeked through the draperies in Daniel’s house, her legs crossed in front of her on the sofa, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She left the lights off as she watched Daniel’s shadowy form sitting far below on the hill, arms wrapped around his legs as Yoo-Hoo flew through the air in circles above him.

Catherine had always been amazed at how intelligent Yoo-Hoo was. Daniel never had to build an enclosed aviary for the bird; he merely released him in the pines in back of his house, letting him fly and screech to his heart’s content before Daniel called him back once again. Her mouth curved into a slight smile as she studied him. Daniel was an amazing fellow, and he belonged to her. She could still smell where he’d lain on the sofa next to her, still feel how the sofa had risen slightly when he’d slipped away, trying not to awaken her. She wondered if he was thinking of how much they’d miss each other when the band went on tour in two weeks, wondering how often they’d be able to contact each other.

Where would the band take him this summer? Where would she be? Where would their lives go from here?

Together
, Catherine thought firmly. If a physical togetherness was impossible, then together in spirit. She sighed, and was just about to let the drapes fall back into place when she saw a black car approaching from the east. She drew the drapes wider in startled recognition.

Beth’s car.

The vehicle slowed until it was out of sight behind the side of the house. Apparently Daniel recognized the car, too, for during the time it’d taken Catherine to watch the car approach he’d gotten to his feet and struggled up a side of the hill toward the front of the house. It was strange to watch him stagger.
He’s still half asleep,
Catherine thought. Then he was out of sight behind the front of the house.

What would Beth want with Daniel? Especially this early?

She slipped through house toward the front window in the kitchen. There she pressed into a corner, eyeing the window where she was able to get a sideways view of the car pulling into the driveway. Daniel was already standing there, his back toward the house, his legs spread apart in a kind of stance. He was shirtless above navy colored jogging pants. His hands were clenched in loose fists at his sides as Beth slithered out of the car.

Catherine saw Beth’s mouth move in some form of greeting, heard Daniel mutter some reply. But she couldn’t hear the actual words. She glanced at her watch, feeling faint and short of breath all of a sudden. Seven-thirty five in the morning. What was going on? She strained to listen, but heard only mumbling.

****

Beth moved in until she was only a few feet away from Daniel. She gazed up and down at him in approval.

“That’s the most interesting outfit I’ve ever seen you wear,” she said. “Maybe you should try that on stage. But the pants have got to go.”

Daniel frowned. The pants were all he was wearing.

“Why are you here, again?” he asked.

Beth crossed her arms. “To make sure you were finally home safely, of course. You obviously weren’t in bed just now. What were you doing?”

Daniel ignored the question. “What do you want?”

“What do I always want?”

“To break Catherine and me up.”

Beth pursed her lips. “I try so hard to be your friend, and I’m always misunderstood. I try so hard to warn, and all I get is bitterness.”

Daniel shook his head. “You should leave.”

Beth ignored the remark. “As much as you avoid me, I refuse to stop trying to help you. I care about you and the band. It’s the best thing this city, maybe even this state or country has ever seen and I don’t want to see it destroyed by some neurotic woman you keep around because you think she needs you. I understand why, though. You’re the savior-type. Addicted to neediness. But I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again… Catherine is unstable. She needs psychological help
.
She’s using you, and one day the whole band could pay the price for your kindness. I know. I’ve known her longer than you have.”