Catherine Ch. 14

"I think that, 'Nobody's ever fucked me like you fuck me,' she said. Was a slip up give away? She didn't mean to let, 'that,' get away; her confession now to others; other than, "HIM," and me.

Giving her time to finish in the shower, then with a glass of room temperature wine with me, I see her standing in front of the vanity running a towel through her hair, where I set the wine glass on the vanity top for her.

"I hate you!" She says, holding the towel in front of her, seeing me there in the doorway.

"I hope not Catherine," replying, "You know how I feel about you!"

"There are others," she says, her shoulders slumping as if in defeat. An one has not been Brian; if your wondering? So then, how did you know," she ask, looking to me in the mirror.

"Simple deduction Catherine; 'Nobody's ever fucked me like you fuck me.' I also knew it wasn't Brian; if that's his name who's been calling you and who you've been putting off; for what ever your reasons are."

"So why me Catherine?" Her quick look directly at me before it's back to her looking at my reflection in the mirror. "Was it something about that night at the Nineteenth Street Pub?"

"But I guess it doesn't matter, because there's more to us than you're willing to admit and right from the beginning too. That's why the phone number on that piece of paper you stuck in my jacket pocket that very first day. And that's why your here, in my house; right?"

"I'm not going to talk to you about; others, Bob! Because those are none of your business who they are!"

"But you will talk about them Catherine, it's the way you are, it's your honesty. An you like to talk about it, you want me to know about it, because you know it will turn me on; is it part of this, 'more to us thing' isn't!"

"Your right Catherine! But it doesn't matter to me who." Standing next to her now, looking at both our reflections in the mirror. "Remember, it was my telling you, wanting to be in your life in what ever way you chose it to be."

"I knew it and told you too," she says, to a deep sigh, looking directly back at my reflection in the mirror.

"Told me what Catherine?"

"That you would be trouble for me," she says.

"Should I tell you Catherine..., how happy I am to hear that?"

When I left her standing in front of the vanity her words surfacing in my mind from that day I first kissed her.

"Catherine."

"Yes."

"You're fun! Plus you have a beautiful, and very kissable mouth! So thanks for not kissing me back." My trying to get her to laugh or curse me, just something please, to relieve my guilt.

"DAMN YOU! I WASN'T..., Kissing you!" But it doesn't sound truthful, was my wish full thinking?

"Are you sure Catherine?" But it's more dead air again.

"Bob..., they just knocked on my door, I have to go now."

"Sure Catherine, you shouldn't be late."

"Bob."

"Yes Catherine."

"Just so you know, that trouble thing..., it's me who's in trouble." Just as I thought the conversation had ended.

Catherine, what..., "Good bye Bob Swaggart." Putting her foot hard on the breaks

"Good bye Catherine." Still wanting to ask her more, but she's already gone.

Damn it! The coffee's cold, the timer for the warming plate of the coffee maker had automatically turned it off. Standing here the pot of cold coffee in my hands; should I? No, I'll just pour a cup and re-heat in the microwave -- one minute on stun is usually enough.

Sitting on the side of the nook that gives me the broad look across the island to the archway waiting for Catherine to pass by on her way to retrieve her coat from the closet; thinking she would leave. The cup sitting on the table in front me almost empty now; not conscious of drinking any from it.

My watch that's hardly ever off my wrist, is not on my wrist now, so how did it, where did I, leave, put, the last place was..., Fuck! I'll find it when the alarm goes off, my back up for waking up in the morning. Speaking of; stretching to see the time on the stove; that late. So where the hell is she?

Moving from the nook to the archway to look down the hall to the open bedroom door to see..., is she laying on the bed? Making my down the hall to see Catherine's on the bed facing away from the bedroom door, covered up in a sheet, head laying on a pillow.

Walking into the bedroom, "Catherine," saying her name, to no reply. Around to the foot of the bed, "Catherine..." this time to what sounds like a sniffle. "Are you okay?" Asking as I make my way to the side of the bed to see just her head and face, the rest of her wrapped up almost like a mummy in the sheet.

Moving closer to the edge of the bed, then down on my knees to see her face better, "Are you alright," asking her. To her, "I hate you.., you know."

"Okay, at least that much hasn't changed," telling her.

"Go to...," "I've been there, remember I told you." Breaking up what she was going to tell me to go to.

"Bobby, I didn't lie to you."

"I know that Catherine. But I will tell you this, I've never completely believed that you've limited yourself, to, 'mister minute man.' Or your rapist college boy friend. Or Jon, or even, "HIM."

"Bobby I..." Wait a Minute Catherine!" interrupting her once again. "Because..., Catherine, your just to beautiful, exciting, funny, sassy, spunky, and intelligent to the point that you would not have shared yourself..., with some very lucky men. Sexy, beautiful and intelligent women are a powerful aphrodisiac to men..., like me! To my little snickering laugh. So who ever they have been..., they've been some extremely..., lucky men."

"Got to hell!" Not interrupting that one.

Now turning around, sitting on my butt, my back against the side of the bed waiting to see, or hear what comes from her besides my, "going to hell.'

An now, not what I would have expected; like something more verbal. Instead, after feeling her moving around behind me, it's her hand on top of my head, rubbing her fingers over and through my hair tells me more about what she's thinking about me.

"Bobby..., " I hear now. "We'll talk when I get back from DC and past that weekend we have with those people staying with us. But I will tell you this now, those two dinner dates I told you about..., the one Tuesday, the other Wednesday, are with men I've enjoyed myself with. And who I intend to, 'enjoy myself with' again." So you know and something to think about," she says.

"Catherine..."

"Yes."

"If I were to call you, will you leave your cell phone close by while your enjoying?"