I'm busy making my rounds clearing out my bedroom when I hear the doorbell ring. It's 10 am, during a pandemic. I'm not expecting any deliveries so I don't know who would be at my house at this hour. Jackson picked up Harriet yesterday afternoon, but he would call first if something was wrong and he needed to bring her over. The doorbell rings again as I make my way over to the front door – whoever is out there is clearly impatient. When I finally open it, I'm bombarded with a wall of boxes, bags and balloons.
"Catherine?" I just about yell when I see who's hiding behind all the…stuff.
"April, baby! Let me inside, won't you? It's windy out here!"
"Uh yeah! Come on in. What brings you here?" I say jovially, trying to hide the confused look on my face. When did Catherine even get my address? I'm not sure how to say this next part without being rude, but entertaining my ex-mother-in-law is not how I expected to spend my morning.
"I just wanted to come bring my grandbaby some gifts! I won't be able to do this so easily pretty soon," Catherine says, accompanied by her signature smile that means she's up to no good.
I don't know if it's old age or what, but I think Catherine forgets she has a private jet. She could come see Harriet in Boston and get back to Seattle all on the same day if she so pleases. She also has a house there, may I add. There's got to be more to this visit than that.
"Thanks Catherine, you're sweet. But you know she doesn't need all this. Her birthday is still months away and it's not like Christmas is around the corner either. And what's with the balloons?"
"They had a 'balloon, bear and bonbon' special at Build-a-Bear. Psh April, let me spoil her. You know I only have one grandchild."
"I suppose you do," I say resignedly. "Well, it can all go in her room for now. Jackson has her today and she won't be back here for a few days. If you want her to see them right now, you're better off dropping them at his place." I hope she takes this as a sign to leave. I don't have a problem with Catherine…most of the time. But I really do have things to get done and her impromptu visit will set me back.
"Oh, I know she isn't here. I just spoke to them on the phone yesterday. I wanted to bring the gifts here as a nice little surprise for when she comes back. Jackson gave me your address, I hope that was okay?" Catherine drawls and basically bats her eyes. I groan and roll my own internally. Can she just come out and say whatever she's here to say? Beating around the bush is wasting even more of my precious Harriet-free packing time. I'm about to tell her thanks and walk her towards the door when she starts talking again.
"I assume you're packing, judging by the look of this place. I have a pretty free schedule today and Richard is working. Let me help you out!"
I want to scream. Packing with Catherine? No way. She doesn't give me enough credit – I've known her basically as long as I've known Jackson and am immune to her façade. She's only here to meddle or gather information. My bet is on the breakdown of my marriage, which I guess Jackson spilled to her. She pipes up again before I have the chance to object.
"I promise I won't be in your way at all. It's just, I'm so sad in that big ol' house all on my lonesome. Nobody to talk to, nothing to do…" Catherine should win an Oscar for her performance, I'll give her that.
I reluctantly give in. "Okay Catherine, I'll take you up on your offer. I was working on my room before you got here so you can head up there with me." She claps her hands together as we walk up the stairs. It's silent for about 10 seconds until I hear Catherine clear her throat. I knew she couldn't go too long without saying anything.
"So April, how are you doing?" she asks as a first stage in the information quest.
"I'm okay, basically equally excited and scared about the move. I've never lived anywhere east of Ohio." I keep it coy and vague, because I know a bombard of questions will follow anyway.
"You're gonna just love Boston. I've always said there's no better city to live in as a doctor. The innovation, the creativity, the research – it's almost palpable. And to be at the forefront of it with the Foundation, ugh, such a gift. You know April, I've said this a lot before, but you and I are very much alike. I also had to up and move cross-country to Boston once I married Robert and got involved in the Avery business. I know exactly the mixed emotions it involves," she says excitedly.
I sigh deeply. Catherine has always talked about how similar our two stories are. She grew up in the rural South, I did in the rural Midwest. She didn't come from money, worked hard to become a doctor and married into a rich family, so did I. Neither of those marriages lasted long for us. When I met her for the first time as an intern at Mercy West, I was enthralled by her ability to just walk into a room and command attention. I looked up to her so much as a surgeon, and as a woman. I still have profound personal and professional respect for Catherine, but our relationship has been rocky over the years. In my residency, she kept trying to hook me up with different men in an attempt to get me to "loosen up." When Jackson and I got married, she implied I was a gold digger. During the dark time we had with Samuel, she was a voice of reason and provided a lot of comfort to both of us. After Jackson found out I was pregnant with Harriet, she tried to get him to take my baby away, which was unforgiveable. I get whiplash just running through the events in my head. I've both loved Catherine and hated her guts, cried in her arms and wanted to rip her head off. Although after Harriet was born, I realized every time I felt wronged by her it wasn't so much that she was against me, but that she was for Jackson. Her only goal has ever been to protect her child, no matter who she had to destroy in the process. A mother's love holds no bounds, I suppose. I won't lie – I still feel hurt and angry over some of the things she's done, but she's apologized and we've moved on. I consider us friends again, but that doesn't mean I want her all up in my personal business. The only way to deal with Catherine is to set boundaries fast and set them hard.
"It's a lot to take in, but I think I'm looking forward to the change." The sentence comes out before I realize it shouldn't have. I just gave Catherine an in, and she'll run with that as far as possible.
"Change is good, baby. You've had a lot of experience dealing with it too. Any other big changes in your life recently?" Catherine asks faux-innocently. I want to roll my eyes, but refrain. She knows exactly what she's doing. She won't let up until she gets what she wants, and I know she already knows, so I suppose there isn't really a point in me straining to restrict information anymore.
"I'm sure it's no surprise to you that Matthew isn't here. We…aren't really a thing anymore," I say slowly. Catherine doesn't need any more details on how that came to be.
"I'm so sorry to hear that April," she says genuinely. "I can't imagine how hard it must be for you right now."
"I'm managing. I've been divorced before, you know." I let out a chuckle, but it falls flat. Catherine doesn't laugh, but instead looks pensive. The next words out of her mouth shock me.
"Maybe so, but that one should've never happened in the first place."
Did I hear that right? Catherine Av-Fox was suggesting I should've never divorced her beloved son? I can't even think about what to say to that.
"Let's sit down, April. I wanna talk to you woman to woman," Catherine says, touching my shoulder. Still speechless, I lead her back down to the kitchen table and start the coffee maker. Lord knows I'll need a cup for this conversation.
"April, when Jackson came to me and told me he wanted to take over the Foundation, I'd never been prouder of him. He's spent his entire life running away from the Avery name, the family legacy, that I didn't think a day like that would ever come. He's grown a lot over his time in Seattle, and I think you're partly to thank for that," Catherine says with shining eyes.
"I've always liked you, April Kepner, from the first day I met you at Mercy West. You remind me so much of myself. I know I haven't always treated you well, and you know how sorry I am about that. But the fact of the matter is, I've never seen Jackson as happy as he was when he was with you. I've watched him jump from relationship to relationship the past few years and nothing has stuck. You're good for him, baby, that's why I sent you to Montana instead of Meredith when I knew he would encounter Robert. You've both been through some rough times, but have come out on the other side. Don't let the past stop you from your own happiness." Catherine finishes her spiel and looks at me expectantly. I'm not really sure what she wants me to respond.
"I…really don't know what to say," I almost whisper. Is she insinuating that Jackson and I should get back together? I hate to break it to her, but her son would not be okay with that in any way.
"You don't need to say anything at all. Just remember my words," Catherine whispers pointedly. I pour us each a cup of coffee as we sit in silence for a bit. Her words play on repeat in my brain; in almost an instant, I've undone all the progress made last night trying to get romantic notions about Jackson out of my head. If Catherine thinks she can just play Cupid for us now that I'm single, she needs a newsflash. There's been too much pain and hurt between Jackson and I for her to wave a magic wand with a simple "don't let the past stop you." I sigh as I move my chair back. I knew letting Catherine into my house would throw off my entire day. Well, it ends now – the longer I sit and stew here, the deeper I'll fall into the Jackson rabbit hole.
"C'mon then, Catherine. You can bring your coffee upstairs. Let's get back to packing."