To Bophobean: Yeah, Prunie may have renounced her wicked ways, but she's still gotta brag, just a little. And unless I need to change something, the Autumn Ball events begin unfolding next chapter, and a lot of people are going to discover a lot of things, so be on the lookout.

Chapter 23

The Big Guy's Angle

Catherine woke up ten minutes before the next alarm, but that was not the unusual part. That was how the night had begun. On the way to Tarver, she had warned Chip not to get up for anything without her, that she would help him to the bathroom or fetch whatever he needed. She had set an alarm on her phone to sound every two hours, hoping the time frame would allow him to nap decently before she checked on him, both for his own safety and for her peace of mind. However, resting had proved to be difficult during the first couple of rounds, and she found herself waking after a few minutes of dozing, paranoid she had slept through the alarm and that something bad had happened to Chip. Over time, the more it looked as though he would be okay, the more she began to relax, and sleep pulled her further under with each passing round. What was truly unusual was the manner in which she had woken up, out of a dead sleep because, somehow, she had known the space beside her was now empty and growing cold.

"Are you kidding me?" she whispered fiercely in equal parts disbelief and pure panic, reaching out to pat the mattress where Chip had been, needing tangible confirmation of what her eyes were already telling her.

She was out of bed in a flash, forgoing her slippers but nearly tripping over one of them as she made her way out of her bedroom. She found Chip in the kitchen, standing in front of the open refrigerator, paused with a filtered water pitcher clutched to his chest. He had frozen when he heard her coming, and he flashed her a hangdog, you-got-me sort of grin when she glared at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Catherine snapped. "What did I say last night?"

"I know what you said," Chip offered lamely, "but—"

"No! No 'buts'!"

Chip winced at her volume, and Catherine felt an instant twinge of regret. "I was thirsty," he said. "I was going to be quick… You've been up all night, Cat. You looked really peaceful, and I didn't want to bother you."

Catherine took the pitcher from him and placed it on the counter next to the fridge. "I," she said, enunciating clearly, her words a warning as much as they were a reiteration, "don't want to put you at risk for another injury. So if you have to bother me fifteen times an hour, you had better do it. Understand?" For good measure, she shut the refrigerator with more force than she normally would have employed. She had not gotten him this far only for him to fall again and die of a brain hemorrhage.

"I understand…Mom," Chip mumbled, sounding boyish. "Just don't yell anymore. God…"

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly moving to the small square kitchen table, where she pulled out a chair for him before guiding him to the seat.

"Me too," he said, folding his arms on the table top while Catherine poured him a glass of water. "It's just…I'm not used to being waited on. Not anymore, I mean. Dipping back into that sort of lifestyle is kind of weird for me, especially when you're the one who's waiting on me. You're already missing work, and…this is a lot."

Catherine had called Janice on the way to the pharmacy last night, apologetic, worried that she would disappoint her but resolute that she would take care of Chip no matter what. To her relief, Janice could not have been more understanding of the situation, and she had even stopped Catherine when she began to ramble about how she would make up for the inconvenience. "We can barter later, honey," she had told her. "And don't worry about your shifts. We've got other hands around here. Axel might be disappointed, though, not seeing you around, but we'll make it work, just like we always do. Right now, you worry about your friend, okay?"

"Well, I'm lucky I have great bosses," Catherine said, taking a seat for herself. "And I take care of those who need the help. It's kind of my thing, remember?" She gave him an encouraging smile, recalling what he had once told her as she slid the water glass toward him. "Now is not the time for your pride."

Or your family-related hang-ups.

Catherine watched Chip down more than half the glass in two huge gulps. "How are you feeling?" she said.

"Like I went on a bender after going on a bender. My head hurts; it's foggy… I feel kind of hungry, but I also feel like I might puke if I tried to eat. Is that normal?"

"Yes. I'll make you some breakfast if you'd like to try. What do you want?"

"Not scrambled tofu. No offense, Cat, but I can't warm up to it."

"Pancakes, it is, then."

"And some coffee."

"Nope. No caffeine."

"What?"

"You don't need to wake up, especially since you won't be doing anything. You need to sleep as much as possible."

"I can't even watch movies?"

Catherine shook her head.

"So I can't move unless you say so, and I can't do anything fun? It's like being in prison."

"That's right," Catherine said, getting up in search of pancake ingredients. "You're in a prison of healing, and I'm the warden. Be a model inmate, don't stress yourself, and you might get a reduced sentence."

Catherine was in the process of taking a canister of buckwheat flour from the cabinet when the distinct buzzing of her intercom filled the quiet apartment. Someone was downstairs.

"You expecting someone?" said Chip, flinching at the noise.

"No," Catherine said slowly, though she hurried to the speaker next to her front door. It was possible one of the hands was looking for her, wondering why she was not already out in the stables. Otherwise, she had no idea who would want her at this hour on a Saturday morning. "Hello?" she said, pressing the button to respond.

"Catherine, honey?" came Janice's voice. "It's me. Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry. I'll come back later. Just let me know when you're up—"

"It's fine, Janice. I'm up. I just wasn't sure who was there. Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. I've got a little something for you. Mind if I come up?"

She opened the door to a happy and well-rested Janice, smiling under the brim of her ever-present indigo Stetson and carrying two rectangular bakery boxes, which she raised proudly before handing over to Catherine. "What are these?" Catherine said, even though she did not have to ask. She could smell them. Donuts, and not just any. Stamped on the box lid was the familiar logo of a donut with a single bite taken from it. They were from Lindman's, hands down her favorite shop. "Oh, wow…"

"Sorry for coming up so early," Janice said, "but I didn't want to give them a chance to get stale." Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Chip, who watched them silently from the table. "Oh, so you're the injured friend she's taking care of? How are you doing, hon?"

"I'll be better when I stop feeling useless," Chip said, raising his glass.

"I know what you mean," Janice said with a laugh. "Well, here's hoping that's soon."

Catherine took the donuts into the kitchen and put them down on the table in front of Chip. Chip went for them immediately, surveying the assorted top dozen in less than a second and plucking a chocolate-glazed one from the array. "Janice, this is really nice of you, but you shouldn't have," she said as she watched Chip take his first bite. The abundant custard inside the donut oozed out the other end, and he was quick to rescue it with his finger before it could fall to the table.

"They're not from me—just passing some along." Janice pointed at Chip. "Your father… I tell you, that man is the sweetest."

Chip had frozen again, finger in his mouth, eyes on Janice. Catherine did not understand, but at any rate, she needed to choose her words carefully. "They're from Chip's dad? Mr. Crosswire?"

"Wait 'til you hear what he did! It started with him heading out to Lindman's, he said, just to pick up some donuts for his next-door neighbor. He struck up a conversation with Lindy Junior, talking about their weekend plans, and Lindy Junior said how down he was that he'd probably miss his son's parade today because he'd be running the shop until they sold out. His boy is in kindergarten now, the cutest little guy, and he's supposed to play a turkey in Lakewood's Thanksgiving parade, but that's beside the point. The point is Ed bought out Lindy's entire stock and told him to have fun at the parade."

"What?" said Chip.

"Aww…" said Catherine, unable to help herself.

"Yeah. Loaded up his car and a van—he and his butler have been handing out donuts all morning. Lindy tried to refuse at first, said he didn't want to disappoint the Saturday customers. Ed told him that he could disappoint his customers once and they'd probably forgive him, but he couldn't disappoint his son—he'd remember that forever."

Chip placed the half-eaten donut back in the box. Catherine could not tell for sure if he was nauseated by the food or disgusted by Janice's story, but she could hazard a guess.

"Wow," Catherine said. "That is really, really nice."

"Does he come around often?" said Chip with a forced casualness only Catherine picked up on.

"No," Janice said. "It's been ages since I've seen him. It was such a surprise for him to pop up, on a Saturday morning especially. He didn't stick around, said he had one more stop in Ingram to deliver donuts to the flight school, then he was heading home. Your sister's first school dance is today, and he did not want to miss seeing her off. He's a busy man. Remembers his friends, though. I'd better be off, too. I need to get rid of the rest of the extra dozens before Rudy gets here and claims them all. Donuts are the last thing that man needs."

"Thanks," Catherine said, seeing Janice to the door.

"No problem, dear. And if there's anything else I can do to help out, let me know…"

Chip was quiet when Catherine entered the kitchen area again.

"So…" she said, "have we given up on the donuts?"

"Lost my taste for them," he said, closing the box. "They're not even that good."

That was a lie, and Chip knew it, but Catherine humored him.

"Pancakes?"

"Yeah. Hit me."

Catherine set to work, debating whether to broach the subject of Chip's father and what he had done. Was it better to let it go? If Chip wanted to refuse the donuts because his father had paid for them, that was his loss. On the other hand, the idea of him stewing in his bitterness bothered her.

"You've got to admit it was kind," she said, placing the short stack of pancakes in front of him, "what your dad did for Lindman?"

To her surprise, Chip nodded slowly. "Yeah… Wonder what his angle was when he played that..."

"What makes you think there's an angle?"

"Because that's the way it is with the big guy. That's the way it always was."

She sighed. "Chip…"

"Cat…"

"Don't you think it's possible for people to change?"

"Sure. Some people."

"But not him?"

"Sorry, warden. I'm not supposed to stress," he said, and Catherine knew the topic was now off limits. "Pass the syrup, please."

Chip had gone back to bed shortly after breakfast. He had been sullen, but he had not directed it toward Catherine. In turn, she had tried not to get frustrated with him for being so pigheaded. It had been dumb of her to press the issue; she was irritated with herself for doing that to him while in such a vulnerable state. If only he knew what she had known for years. Instead, he assumed there must be an angle.

Catherine yawned, wanting desperately to join Chip, but she needed to take care of something first, and she needed to do it while he was still unconscious. She took her phone from the nightstand and stepped into her slippers, then padded through the apartment, exiting the front door into the stairwell.

"Hi, Ed?" she said. "Yeah, it's me… It has been a while… Listen, can we all get together…? No, no. There's no emergency, but I do have a sort of update for you guys. When is a good time for you?"

To be continued…

A/N: Just a heads-up that chapter 24 might not post next Sunday but will be up as soon as possible. More details can be found in the updates section of my profile page.