Chapter 43

Absolved

"What do you think?" Catherine gave a full spin in front of Chip Thursday afternoon while he sat on her sofa. She had just finished her hair and makeup to accompany the outfit she was wearing to Francine's musical, a navy and cream striped midi dress and a pair of deep red ankle boots made of faux suede. The weather this evening would be too chilly for the dress alone, so she had added a cropped jacket made of dark denim and lined with thick, cream-white fleece to her ensemble. She came to a stop to see the corner of Chip's mouth quirk for a split second. In his eyes was a glint he had not been capable of producing since the accident. She knew what that combo meant. Horny remark in three…two…

"I think you're wearing too much clothing," Chip said, reaching for the open bag of tortilla chips on the coffee table. "Wouldn't be interested in a little Yahtzee when you get back, would you?"

Someone's feeling a lot better. That was encouraging, even if she was far from satisfied with his condition. "Nnnope," she said sweetly, "not until your doctor clears you for all activity."

"Never hurts to ask," he said with a shrug before popping a broken tortilla fragment into his mouth. The bag was almost empty, down to shattered remnants that had sunk to the bottom. "You do look great, though."

"Thanks. It feels kind of weird, you know, getting dressed up and going out. I haven't done that since—jeez—since we were in Erie."

At this, Chip's face fell into a sympathetic sort of frown. "I know. We need to remedy that. Well, as soon as I can afford it, we need to."

Catherine nodded as the timer she had set on her phone sounded a warning. She needed to leave no later than ten minutes from now if she wanted to be on time for her appointment, or what she considered on time, at least. Better than simply being punctual, she would rather arrive a couple of minutes early, just in case the Crosswires were early as well. Time was valuable for everyone today. She had a lot to accomplish, and literally no one could be left waiting for too long. "Oh, I've got to get a move on!" Now in overdrive, she practically leapt to her phone, which she had left on the mantle, and dismissed the alarm. "You're all set, right?" she said, pausing briefly to take in Chip's OK hand signal. "Okay…okay, so I've got all your stuff right here." She gestured to the array of strategically-placed items on top of the coffee table, everything from Tylenol to tissues, from various snacks to a bottle of ginger ale and a pitcher of filtered water. "You've already taken your antibiotic once today, so I'll give you your second dose when I get back. Pizza should be here at six; I left instructions with the pizzeria to bring a sausage and peppers up for you after they drop off Brett and Arron's at the front office. Plates and napkins are over there on the end table. I've left a schedule for Brett so he can stay on track. He's off for the day in about forty minutes, and his first text should be around that time. If he doesn't check in, let me know, and I'll remind him with a nastygram text. But he's pretty dependable, so it probably won't come to that. Your phone is fully charged, and I left an extra blanket on the back of the sofa. I'm missing something, aren't I? Oh, right—anything else from the store?"

Chip shook the bag. "More of these, but can you get the lime ones? And some picante. Medium?"

"I'll add them to the list. And while I'm out, I thought I'd swing by your place to get your Norelco and shave kit. I just need to make sure I've got your key…" She dashed out of the living room to retrieve her purse, but not before she caught Chip rubbing his face thoughtfully with both hands. Without access to his razor, a fine auburn stubble had presented itself over the past couple of days. Not only did the facial hair make Chip look vastly different, it was prickly when she kissed him, and she had to refrain from shuddering. Catherine had always preferred clean-shaven men for personal aesthetics, but her preference had morphed into a prerequisite for prospective dates during the summer after high school graduation, when Tami had received severe beard burns on her chin and nose from making out with her new boyfriend. Since then, Catherine had been traumatized by the possibility of a partner putting a stache rash on her face, or anywhere else for that matter.

"Okay," he called after her, and she could hear him clearly from her bedroom, "but you don't have to go out of your way if you don't feel like it. I think I'm actually starting to get used to it."

Oh, no. No, no, no, she thought, fumbling through the red purse she had swapped out for the evening, making sure Chip's apartment key was tucked safely away in its innermost pocket. She grabbed a straw-colored cable-knit sweater from her closet, a prop to go with one of her fake excuses for leaving so early before the play. She had told Chip that, while she was out, she would drop by her old apartment and return a sweater she had borrowed from Tami. From there, she would visit the post office to mail a birthday card to her aunt in Baltimore, and then she would make one final stop at First Bank of Elwood City's ATM to withdraw cash for play admission. A total bullshit alibi. In truth, a couple of twenties were already in her wallet, her aunt's birthday was six weeks from now, and she would stuff the sweater in the stable closet that housed raincoats and rubber boots for Tarver's many hands and volunteers, and there it would stay until she could remove it and return it to her closet. After all, it was her sweater.

"Hey, maybe I'll grow it out…or shape it into a goatee," Chip added.

"Yeah, if you want to look pervy," she muttered in the hallway.

"What was that?!"

"I said it's no problem," she said, hurrying through the living room again and into the kitchen, the prop sweater draped over her shoulder. "I'll even help you shave when I get back. If you need me, that is." She opened the refrigerator and reached into the back of the bottom shelf, snagging four tallboy cans of Don't Worry Be Hoppy, one of Chip's favorite IPAs she kept on hand, still bound together with their plastic rings.

Chip chuckled playfully as she hurried back to tell him goodbye. "Heh heh, Angi told me you hate beards. I just wanted to see what you'd say. Are those mine?"

"Payment for the babysitter and his beau," she reminded him as she held the cans aloft, strung up with two fingers. She would hide them in the office fridge on her way out. "I'll get more for you later… Are you sure you'll be okay?" A small twinge of panic panged her chest, and she reached out with her free hand to gently ruffle his hair, combing it upward with her fingers to check his stitches, something she had already done multiple times today. His forehead was still free of redness and swelling, still mending back together. What a time for separation anxiety to hit. Chip was doing quite well, the best she had seen from him since this whole ordeal had begun, but she would drop everything if he truly needed her and make her excuses to everyone. She needed him to dismiss her before she could walk away.

"I'm going to be fine," he said, taking her hand to peck her knuckles with a quick, scratchy kiss, "and you're going to be late. So get out of here." Catherine gave him a brief smile then left him alone on the sofa. Her hand had barely connected with the doorknob when he called out, "Miss you already!"

"Lies," she teased, stepping out of her apartment for the first time since Saturday. "I bet you can't wait to get a break from me."

The dashboard clock read exactly 5:00 when Catherine pulled into a vacant space in the Certified Pre-Owned of Elwood customer parking lot. She was fifteen minutes early for their meetup, and the Crosswires were a lot busier than she was, so maybe she had been presumptuous in thinking they would already be here. Historically, they had always been here, waiting for her with bated breath for the latest news, information Chip would divulge to no one but her. Over the course of their five-year alliance, Catherine had met Ed and Millicent at the dealership on many occasions, agreeing it was a safer location than the Crosswire estate, where Muffy generally came and went as she pleased and could easily spy her best friend's sister collaborating with her parents and ask questions. Keeping their team a secret from Muffy became especially important once Chip had come around and started communicating with his mother and sister again. If Muffy had discovered what the three of them had been up to at any point during Chip's absence, she could have blabbed to her brother, and everything would have gone to hell in an instant. If Muffy spotted Catherine here, however, a plausible cover story was at the ready: Catherine was simply looking for a deal on a used car. She glanced around the lot as she headed toward the entrance. There was no immediate sign of Ed or Millicent having arrived ahead of her, but they owned so many vehicles that it could be difficult to know what to expect. She had no time to search for them inside, for she had only made it through the front door when she was accosted by a twenty-something-year-old aardvark man with a perfect crew cut the color of light honey. He wore a dark blue, tie-less suit and a charming smile. Catherine had never seen him here before and assumed he must be a new salesman.

"Hey, there! I'm Andre. What brings you into CPE, Miss…?"

"Frensky," said Catherine, shaking the hand Andre had thrust out to her, trying her best to ignore the unsettling way he had caressed hers and the fact that he had given her palm a purposeful stroke as he let go. "I'm looking for Mr. Crosswire, actually. I have an appointment—"

"Ah, sorry," he said, taking a step closer, "Mr. Crosswire isn't here today, but he's not just my boss; he's also a close personal friend. I'd be more than happy to help you with whatever you need."

I need you to go away. That was what Catherine wished she could tell him, that, and that he would be handsome were he not so damn smarmy. Before she could think of something more polite to say, she heard a voice over her shoulder, boisterous and familiar, and she was grateful he was here to interrupt.

"Catherine! It's been a long time!"

Catherine turned to see Ed and Millicent, side by side, still wearing their coats. "Hello," she said to them, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"I'll take it from here, Andre, thanks," Ed said jovially, clapping Andre on the back. "Catherine's an old friend. We're just meeting here at CPE for a little business. This way, ladies." He was gesturing toward a hallway recessed in the back wall of the building. Catherine had been down that hallway before, and she knew exactly where they were headed.

As soon as Ed had locked the double doors to the CPE conference room and closed the blinds covering the wide window that looked out into the commons area, Millicent threw her arms around Catherine and hugged her tightly. Her sweet perfume, no doubt exorbitant in price, brought back countless memories of the evenings they all had gathered in this very room. "Well?" she insisted once they parted. "What is it?" Millicent then blinked in rapid succession and shook her head, looking embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, dear. I've completely forgotten my manners. Please, have a seat. Can we get you anything?" She waived a hand toward the dark wooden credenza on top of which stood an electric kettle and single-serve coffee maker as well as a mother-of-pearl tray filled with an assortment of accoutrements for making hot beverages. Ed had already pulled out one of the conference table's white leather chairs, flashing Catherine an encouraging smile. It had been so awkward at first, having two of the wealthiest people in town dote on her whenever they met up, but Catherine had grown oddly accustomed to their behavior over the years.

"No, thank you," said Catherine. "I'm fine. This probably won't take long."

"So it's good news?" Millicent sounded hopeful now.

"In a way," Catherine began slowly before remembering she was on a tight schedule. "I don't really know how else to say this, so I'll get right into it. There was an accident Friday night at the Waterfront, and Chip was taken to the emergency room."

"What?" said Ed and Millicent in unison.

"He's fine! He's fine!" Catherine said. "You shouldn't worry too much."

"Too much?" said Millicent, looking faint. She shared a look with Ed, whose demeanor, while not as emotional as his wife's, still betrayed concern.

"What sort of accident was this?" Ed said, once he had recovered his wits.

Catherine told them everything, as much detail as she could remember from Chip's account that night in the emergency room. Throughout the tale, Millicent had inched closer and closer to Ed until she was now clutching his arm. "One of the guests at the bar happened to be a doctor," she added, toying with her purse strap as they regarded her with horrified faces, "and he helped Chip until the ambulance arrived. His concussion was mild, thank goodness, and he's got some bumps and bruises. The cut on his forehead was infected, but we're knocking it out with antibiotics. He has a follow-up appointment next week, to see when he might be able to go back to work, but the prognosis is pretty good overall. He's doing great today—oh, yes, I guess I should mention he's been staying at Tarver with me, and I haven't let him out of my sight. Except for right now…but I left him in the care of a good friend of mine. With that being said, he's going to be okay. He doesn't want to make a big deal about this, but I just thought I should let you know."

Her stomach lurched. Saturday morning, when Chip was still struggling, Catherine had thought telling the Crosswires about his condition was the perfectly rational thing to do. After all, they were his parents. They had worried about him constantly for years. Now that she was before them, having spilled the beans, after Chip had expressly stated that he did not wish to tell his family about this, Catherine could not help but experience a moment of uncertainty.

"That…" Millicent blustered, seemingly unable to contain the indignation that roiled inside her, "that…ooh, that little…STINKER! How DARE he keep this from me! I am his MOTHER!"

"Honey!" Ed whispered as he moved to part the blinds with two fingers, apparently checking to make sure no one had heard Millicent's outburst.

"He said he was fine. He said he was chilling in his apartment. That…that stinker. Ooh… I'm calling him." She was already reaching into her handbag.

"Nonononono!" Catherine spat while Ed, at the same time, said, "Millie, don't."

"Please, Millicent?" Catherine folded her hands over her heart. Her voice vibrated with desperation as her eyes flitted to the silver Portolex Infinity in the woman's tight grip. "He cannot know I've talked to you. Please."

"Millie…" Ed wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and gently ushered her to the far side of the room where he spent several moments talking to her in a soothing voice that was so low it was almost in audible. Catherine caught the very end, though, when he told her, "Remember that? Please, baby, for all our sakes." The pet name had sounded so weird in Catherine's ear. Ed had always referred to Millicent as "honey" when they were in her presence, never "baby". The term felt too intimate, as if Catherine were not meant to hear it. Whatever else he had said to her, it must have worked. Millicent nodded at him, and then she slipped her phone back into her bag.

"I apologize," she said sincerely as she approached Catherine. "I didn't mean to cause a commotion, I just… I'm very surprised by all this. I wish he had told me, of course, but apparently that boy has a mind of his own."

To anyone else, it would have sounded as if Millicent disapproved of her son making decisions for himself, but Catherine knew she was merely flustered over Chip's consistent unruliness. She could only agree with his mother. "That's for sure," she said.

"At least we have you to take care of him while he heals. Thank you for that."

"It's my pleasure. And I promise he's in good hands."

"He's in the best hands," Ed agreed, joining them, "apart from Millie's. Right, honey?"

"That's right," Millicent said, looking up at him, then she sighed. "I need tea."

She left them for the credenza, where she plucked an individually-wrapped tea bag from an array, flicked the switch on the base of the kettle and stared pensively at it while she waited for the water to boil. Catherine felt sorry for her but was ripped from her thoughts when she remembered there was somewhere she needed to be. She checked her watch. It was 5:39.

"Time to go?" said Ed.

"Pretty much," Catherine said resignedly.

"Come on. I'll walk you out." He unlocked the doors, held one open for Catherine, and then he followed her.

"I haven't seen Millicent this upset in a long time," Catherine said once they were out the front doors and away from anyone who might overhear. "I'm sorry."

"She'll be all right once she absorbs it," Ed said calmly. "She's a lot tougher than what she puts forth. Seen it firsthand, so don't worry."

"I really hate she knows Chip was injured and she can't even talk to him about it."

"Oh, you don't know Millie. She'll get him to crack. She won't mention you—nothing like that, I swear. But she has her ways. Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so. I feel kind of antsy, being separated from Chip. Also…do you think this is right?"

They were at her car now, but upon asking that question, she was nowhere near ready to leave.

"Right?" he said.

"When I found out Chip had been hurt, as soon as I was freed up, I went with my knee-jerk reaction, and that was to call you as soon as possible because that's what I've always done. But that was when Chip was hundreds of miles away. He's home now and relatively safe. He's probably going to make a complete recovery. And he's an adult. I don't know… I mean, if it were my child, I think I'd want to know regardless of his age. But something is nagging at me, like maybe I overstepped. Like, is this my place now? Is it even my business?"

"Hmm… That's all that's bothering you?"

"That's all I can think of," she said with a shrug.

"Just making sure," he said, though he still looked skeptical. "I don't know if what you did today was right or wrong, but I'm grateful you were there to look out for him, just like you always have. Millie and I both are. You're a great, great friend. You've done a lot. I'm sure you know that."

"I wish I could do more."

"Like what?"

"I want…to find a way to bring everyone back together." It was the closest she had ever come to revealing her newest motivation.

"Heh, you and me both, but we're not miracle workers, not really. No matter how many great feats we accomplish, something—it's usually someone, just as stubborn as we are—is going to come along and remind us that we're mere mortals, that we're really just doing the best we can with what we've got. So, chin up I guess is what I'm trying to say. It's not on you to make him like me, Catherine. Why would you think it is?"

"Part of me was afraid I'd let you down, that you'd think I'd stopped caring."

"What about the other part? Parts? It's the salesman in me— can't help it. I ask probing questions to get people to open up, find out what they really want."

Catherine hung her head. What in the world would he say if she told him what she really wanted, just spelled everything out for him in no uncertain terms?

I'm also dating your son, by the way. On the low. I've fallen hard for him, and I'm terrified he's going to find out our secret one day and hate me forever and sever ties with you guys for good because he just might be bitter and angry enough to do that. I'm trying my damnedest to manipulate him into interacting with you so maybe, just maybe, he'll come around and be a part of the family again. You know how he's coming to Thanksgiving? That was me. As much as I live in hope that you'll repair your family because it's right, I also need him to stop hating you so I can keep him.

She would have to settle for being as honest as possible in the moment. "You already know. Chip. If he ever finds out… I wish he'd let all this go."

"Look at me," he said gently. "The last thing anyone should ever accuse you of is not caring. You were never obligated to help us, but you chose to, never mind the ramifications it could have on your friendship. I know that worried you a lot, but you watched over him anyway until he got this far. That took tons and tons of courage, I'm sure."

As much as he claimed to be acting like a salesman, in actuality, he was regarding her with the tone and expression of a concerned and loving father. During times like these, Catherine found it hard to believe Ed had ever been capable of treating Chip with such callousness, capable of such repulsive behavior and hateful words, causing his son to retreat and turn his back on him for five years. But he had. Chip had told her everything once he had settled in Savannah and touched base with her, and later, once Catherine had worked up the nerve to confront Ed with what she knew, Ed had owned up to it. After admitting to everything, he had expressed deep regret. "If I had known how it would escalate, how much damage I would cause in the end, I never would have left Elwood City that day." His words replayed over and over in her head for quite some time after. If her father had said and done half of what Ed had done on the front lawn of Omega Psi Phi, Catherine knew it would have hurt her deeply. Still, she liked to think she would at least be open to hearing him out if he wanted to talk.

"But like you said," Ed continued, "he's close now, and we know he's safe. He even calls. Not me, but he calls some people in this family. We're a lot better off than we were five years ago, and we've got you to thank for the peace of mind we had in the meantime. I can't really ask you to do more beyond this point, I don't think. If you want to lay that burden down, why, I won't blame you one bit. Be free, and go back to being just his friend. And for the love of God, enjoy yourself. I promise I won't think any less of you. Can't. I refuse. Already think the world of you."

There was no way she could go back to being just Chip's friend, but if Ed was willing to absolve her of her duties so that she had one less secret to hide from her boyfriend, she would gladly accept the offer. It felt like a weight, however small, had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said, shaking hands with him. "You know I'll still get in touch if it's absolutely necessary."

"Ha! I know you will!"

Catherine stood at the MCM box office, purchasing her ticket for The Music Man when a text chimed. That was a good thing. She would have forgotten to set her phone to vibrate otherwise. She took her change from the clerk, a student volunteer from the look of her, and stepped aside to read the message.

Saved you a seat. Row F.

It was from her mother. The information was helpful. Catherine had originally been instructed to meet her family in the lobby, but she figured Bubby must have grown tired of standing around and waiting for her, and they had gone ahead and filed into the auditorium to claim seats. Still, she had somewhat hoped to hear from Chip by now, even though she had warned him to limit his screen time.

"Catherine? Is that you?" Bubby said as Catherine sidled past her mother and father to sit next to her grandmother. "I haven't seen you in so long, I almost forgot what you looked like."

"Hi, Bubby!" Catherine hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. "It's great to see you again."

"Eh, you say that to my face," Bubby complained, though she was smiling. "Haven't we been waiting long enough? There must be a hiccup back stage or something."

"It starts at six-thirty, Ma," said Catherine's mother. "We've got five minutes to go."

"Oh, good. I can take a short nap."

As she listened to her mother and grandmother go back and forth, Catherine absently opened her text conversation with Chip, just in case she had missed something. She had turned the screen's brightness all the way down to prevent others from reading over her shoulder. She could barely make it out herself. The last text was from her.

Hope you're killing it tonight. Yahtzee later, if you're not too tired? ;)

It occurred to her that she had been in this exact situation before she had gotten the call from Trevor, staring at her phone, hoping to hear from Chip. She had thought tonight would be a nice break. She had spent the last six nights with him, and because he had stopped washing his hair for a while to avoid irritating his wound, he was beginning to smell like oily scalp. Sometimes he would roll over in the middle of the night and use Catherine as a body pillow, and various pointy parts of him would poke various fleshy parts of her. She would grow unbearably hot and resort to sticking her feet out from underneath the covers to regulate her temperature. Even so, Catherine wanted him next to her, and she knew that, once he was fully healed and on his own again, his absence would be hard to get used to. As if he were gone already, she wanted nothing more than to hold him again. Well, maybe after he shaved. This play could not end quickly enough. She nearly gasped when her phone buzzed, and a message from Chip appeared under the one she had sent nearly a week ago.

Ha just saw your message and thought you'd changed your mind. Imagine my disappointment when I checked the date!

Catherine was trying to think of a clever comeback when

I really do miss you already.

She typed, I'll be back soon. She paused, then added, I miss you already, too.

She really did.

To be continued…