Three Minutes
The hot water from the shower head sprayed onto her body, relaxing every tense muscle within her. She sighed deeply and just stood under the spray: her initial intent. She did not truly bathe and clean herself. She only wanted to relax and clear her mind of the worries that she would have to face when she got out of the shower.
The house had a blanket of silence over it, for Lindsay decided that she would rather stay at her grandmother's than with her mother. Of course, she expressed those feelings in many more insolent words saying that she missed her daddy and that she hated her mother.
Even still, Catherine had other matters to attend to.
She stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her. She sighed and wiped steam from the mirror, allowing her to see her face. Her skin had not regained its color, and she saw wrinkles that she didn't recall seeing the day before when she examined herself. Stress had really taken its toll. No, not stress. Age. Age had taken its toll on her looks and her body.
She found herself strangely comfortable with it now; that after solving a case of some strange age-defying elixir that had turned deadly. Well, not completely comfortable, but she had made some progress with her self image with a little help.
Catherine went through the motions of a thing familiar to her before staring at her reflection again. She thought about dying her hair again. It had slowly turned back to her natural redness. She remembered that he didn't like dyed hair, so she abandoned the idea. That was the only thing that seemed to bother him so much was dyed hair. He was the type of guy that appreciated all aspects of a woman's natural beauty.
She smiled thinking about Warrick. Never had she had a relationship with a more loving, compassionate, honest and sweet man. She remembered the day he told her that he loved her. The confession came on a particularly slow night and when they were pretty much left to their own devices. He met her outside, took her hands in his own and told her then.
Her smile quickly faded as she looked at the clock across the wall. She growled slightly and then stared at her reflection again.
Time was going by a bit slowly. Her impatience stemmed from her thoughts of certain death or the apocalypse. It was true: the world could end at any second, and things that she intended to do would never get done. She feared that she would never get to see her daughter or Warrick again and tell them how much she loved them because she was stuck in this moment.
Fiery images passed through her mind in quick succession.
Catherine saw fire, buildings crumbling, foxgloves in bloom through melting ice, the sun burning out, the people she loved and knew growing older and older until they turned to dust, and then finally, nothing, her mind going blank.
She was bawling now, and she was glad that neither Lindsay nor Warrick was in the house to hear her. She grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed her cheeks.
She glanced at the clock again.
In the last few moments, her mind filled with memories of the first time she and Warrick made love on a day off together. She heard their heated voices again and their discussion of which position was best to receive the most pleasure from. She saw contrasting skin melded together in the most intimate of ways, hands gripping tightly, twisted yellow cream sheets, his eyes closed tightly, and then powerful release, her mind filling with the brightness of that day and foxgloves growing on her window sill.
Three minutes was up. Before she could even glance down at the counter, Warrick entered, a concerned look on his face.
He saw that she had been crying and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Hey babe," he whispered. "What's the matter?"
She did not answer; she only began to weep again and she looked down at the bathroom counter. He looked down with her and then, all of his questions that had formed over the last few weeks were answered.
Warrick sighed with a slight smile and kissed her neck.
"So that's why you've been eating seaweed with sweet and sour sauce," he chuckled. "What are you thinking?"
She sighed.
"It's too soon," she said quietly. "What if we don't work out?"
Warrick tightened his hold on her.
"I try not to think about that," he whispered, closing his eyes. "But to answer your question, I'll be here for you, Lindsay and now the baby. No matter what happens…" he paused. "Always, Catherine."
She turned in his arms and kissed him softly, still weeping.