Catherine stood rooted to the spot. A story? She’d sent her mother a story? She could feel the blood drain from her face.
Her mother didn’t seem to notice. “You wrote about wanting your own Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet,” she continued, “lavish you with great things, and treat you like a princess. You called it Caterella. I remember the title because it was so you: half-humor, half-literary. I figured the rest of it was your way of wading through the grief after the loss of your dad, by creating this fantasy of a man who could whisk you away from all the pain, out of reality and into the glamorous life.”
Grace set her cup down on the nightstand. “It never sounded like the real you, that pining for a man. I’d forgotten about it—but I remember saving the email because you also told stories about your dad that I wanted to hold on to. I think it’s out with the photo albums. Maybe you girls can find it.”
Cat’s breathing accelerated and her heart pounded. Was this what a heart attack felt like?
Grabbing her elbow, Marie pulled her into the hallway. “Relax,” she whispered. “Seriously. You don’t need to freak Mom out.”
Cat clutched her elbows, holding her arms against her stomach. She attempted to breathe in and out, in and out, but the air wouldn’t come.
Marie walked to the back end of the hallway and bent down. She thumbed through the old albums housed on a bookshelf there. A moment later she held up a piece of paper. “Found it.”
Cat approached her sister, taking the paper with a trembling hand. She scanned it, blanching further. “Oh my God. I said his name was Will. Marie, I said his name was Will!”
Marie grabbed the paper, reading for herself. “C’mon. You said he’d be named something wealthy and noble sounding, like William or Harry or Edward. You didn’t say he was William. You must have been thinking of the British royal family.”
They heard the sound of their mom’s wheelchair and looked up to see her wheeling herself slowly down the hallway. Cat yanked the email back from her sister and stuffed it in her pocket.
“Did you find it?” Grace called.
“No,” Cat said, as Marie raced to their mother’s side. “Mom!” she chided. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Grace waved her off. “You guys were taking too long; I had to see what the problem was. I could’ve sworn it was in there.”
She looked back and forth between her daughters, a perplexed expression on her face. “What’s going on? Cat, you look a little green.”
“It’s nothing, Mom. She just needs something to eat. Can I make you a sandwich, Cat?” Marie asked in an extra cheerful voice, giving Cat a pointed look.
Realizing she didn’t need to freak her mother out any more than she was freaking herself out, Cat forced herself to agree. “Yeah, Mom, nothing, I’m just tired. And thinking about Dad. I always miss him this time of year.”
Grace seemed satisfied with her answer. “I miss him, too. Anyways, you know I think you deserve someone as wonderful as that fantasy guy, right, honey?”
“I know, Mom.”
“If you want someone, that is. Women don’t have to have a man to feel fulfilled.”
Marie snorted from the kitchen. “She knows, Mom. You remind us often.”
“Don’t get me wrong, girls. I loved your dad. I miss him every day. But he wouldn’t want to see you dependent on someone else for your happiness any more than I do.”
Grace rolled herself farther into the living room. “Any chance we could put up the tree while we’re all here as a family? You know that’s my favorite thing about Christmas, especially when I’ve got my two girls with me.”
“Sounds great,” Cat said absentmindedly. Her brain felt fuzzy and nausea had rooted itself in her stomach. Three stories. Three men. It was too much to ignore now, though she desperately wanted to.
She took a deep breath as Ben Cooper’s face flashed through her mind. Where did he fit in? Had she written a story about a computer science professor, too? One who already had a girlfriend? Closing her eyes, she clutched the back of the sofa for support. The manuscript, the stories. None of it made any sense. She had to ask.
“Mom, do you know anything about a medieval manuscript Dad had?”
“What manuscript?”
Cat pressed her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to stave off the horrendous headache now pounding through her temples. “You sent it to me a few weeks ago—it was in with some other papers? It was wrapped up like a present, actually.”
“I don’t remember that.”
Cat’s shoulders slumped. “So you don’t have any info on it?”
“I’m sorry, no. Is it authentic?”
“Seems to be. Never mind. I was hoping you’d know where he got it.” So much for that. Pushing the thought of men—any man—firmly from her mind, Cat swallowed and squared her shoulders. There must be an explanation, but she wasn’t going to think about it right now. She couldn’t.
“Unless...” her mother said.
Cat’s eyes flew back to her.
“There was something Grandma Schreiber gave to your dad a long time ago. When I tried to look at it, she motioned me away, saying it was a family secret. As if I wasn’t family.” Grace made a disgusted noise. “People always said Grandma was batty, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Is that what it was? Some sort of manuscript?”
Cat nodded, suddenly sorry she’d brought it up, especially since Marie was now rotating her finger in circles near the side of her head. “Looniness obviously runs in the family,” she said, pointing at Cat.
Grace ignored Marie. “You’ll have to show it to me sometime. Unless you sell it. I bet it’s worth a pretty penny.” Wheeling herself over to the stereo, she pulled out a CD. After a minute, the familiar strains of The Nutcracker filled the room.
Cat was grateful her mother had lost interest in the subject, although it frustrated her to no end not to have more information about her dad’s odd gift. Especially if it were a family heirloom.
As they put up the tree and hung the ornaments one by one, Cat tried to relax and enjoy being with her family again, doing the Christmas traditions they’d done since she was a baby. It pained her to think how much she was going to miss them when she returned to Virginia.
Maybe she should move to Ohio. But chasing after family wasn’t any better than chasing after a man, was it? How about being chased after by three men I created? A nervous laugh escaped her, and Marie and Grace both turned around.
“Nothing. Nothing!” Cat held up the ornament she’d unwrapped. “I found the old Pac-Man ornament and was remembering how we used to dance to Pac-Man Fever. That’s all.”
Marie raised her eyebrow.
“That’s all,” Cat repeated.
And I’m crazy. Absolutely nuts. Bonkers. Because I’m more and more convinced that the three men I’m dating, or was dating, were somehow created ... by me.
An hour later, as the three women were sipping hot chocolate in front of the tree, Cat’s phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Catherine. It’s William. William Dawes.”
The room started to spin. Half of her wanted to hang up the phone; the other half wanted to drill him with questions in an effort to prove she either had or hadn’t made him up.
She attempted to sound casual. “Oh, hi. How are you?”
“I’m well. I hope the same is for you and your mother. How is she?”
“Much better. She’s got a ways to go, but she’s back to her old self, at least personality-wise.”
Grace gave her a sidelong glance as if to ascertain whether that was a positive or negative statement.
“I’m so glad to hear that. I would have checked in before, but the whole family came home for Thanksgiving at my parents’ house, and then the office has been swamped.”
“It’s all right, William, I wasn’t expecting you to. But I wanted to thank you again for all you’ve done for me, especially since you hardly know me. I truly appreciate it.”
Maybe I didn’t make him up. Maybe it really is all one big weird coincidence. He certainly sounds perfectly normal and not like a figment of my imagination. My apparently quite creative imagination.
“You’re more than welcome, Catherine. It was my pleasure. In fact, that’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh?”
“I spoke with Eliza to check in on the store, and she mentioned you were returning to Charlottesville tomorrow. I asked her how you were getting there. She said she didn’t know.”
“I’m renting a car.”
“May I send the plane for you? I won’t be able to accompany you, as there is a shareholders’ meeting tomorrow in New York, but the plane is yours if you want it. I’ll be traveling with my father.”
“On his plane?” Cat joked without thinking.
There was a small pause. “Well, yes. Listen, if you would prefer to drive, I’ll understand.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t usually rub elbows with folks who own jets. I was gauche, and I apologize.” Her sister watched her as she fumbled for words.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Anyway, um, sure. If the offer still stands, I accept. It would save me six hours of driving. And when you’re driving through West Virginia, those hours are long.”
“Not a fan of West Virginia?”
Thank goodness he no longer seemed offended. “It’s definitely beautiful, but after a while, how many more mountains and trees can one stand?”
William laughed out loud. “In any case,” he said, “if you can be at the airport at 7:00 p.m., someone will meet you at the main entrance and escort you to the plane.”
“Thanks again, William. It all feels like too much, but, um, they tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll take it.” Besides, if I’ve created you to be my savior, I might as well let you do the saving.
“Wonderful. I’m still hoping you are interested in that second date. I’ve been thinking about you and looking forward to it.”
“Yes, absolutely. That’d be great.”
“Good. I’ll talk with you once you’re back home. Take care, Catherine.”
“Thank you, William. You, too.”
Grace spoke the minute Cat hung up the phone. “I take it that was your ‘Prince’?” She hooked her fingers in the air, making mock quote marks to emphasize the word.
“Oh, Mom.” If you only knew. If you only knew.
“I would say if he’s sending a plane to retrieve you, the answer is yes,” Marie said. “That’s almost as good as riding up on a horse.”
“I have to concede that.” Cat raised her brows at Marie. “It’s as if he’s everything I’ve wanted a man to be,” she continued in an exaggerated tone.
Marie snorted, waving her sister off with a hand.
“What are you two are talking about?” Grace demanded. Neither daughter answered her. “Fine. Whatever. Sister secrets.” She looked at Cat. “I’m not glad to be injured, but I am glad you came. We miss you, especially during the holidays. Will you be back at Christmas?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try. I’m just glad you are okay and I have something to come back to.”
“Honey, you always have somewhere to come back to. Even if only the memories in your head and the photographs on your walls.” Grace gestured to the collection by the stairs. Cat swallowed after spying a picture of herself as a toddler with her dad, laughing with outstretched hands as she sat on his shoulders at some parade. Lord, she missed him.
“The people you love are always in your heart, whether you’re physically with them or not,” her mother added.
“Well, that’s eerily maudlin. I think your pain medicines are on overdrive, Mom,” Marie said, hopping up. “I say it’s time to watch Christmas Vacation. Cat, you find the movie. I’ll make the popcorn.” She headed into the kitchen.
“It’s in the cabinet over the stove,” Grace called, wheeling herself after Marie. “Don’t forget the butter.”
I love them so much. Too bad I’m going insane.