Chapter 37

Cathy was also pleased to be in touch with the outside world again. She had made a decision and she wanted to call Michael and tell him about it, with the emphasis on “tell.”

So, after the afternoon weigh-in, which confirmed that she had lost another two pounds, for a total of five in all, she went back to her room and placed the call to Tibbermore, Tavitch and Stewart.

A rapid combination of clicks and whirrs signaled that the correct series of electrical pulses was racing madly through the long-distance system, and, in a moment, she got through to the switchboard.

“Good morning, T, T & S,” chirruped a too-cheery voice.

“Mr. Stewart’s office, please.”

“Just one moment, I’ll connect you.”

But when she got through to Michael’s secretary and before she had a chance to identify herself, she was informed, in the somewhat superior tones used by those who occupy the inner sanctums of power at whatever level, that “Mr. Stewart was in conference” and could not possibly be disturbed. Cathy uttered a meek “Thank you,” and hung up.

But no sooner was the receiver resting in its cradle than she snatched it up again and redialed T, T & S. The new, improved Cathy was not about to give up that easily.

“Mr. Stewart’s office, can I help you?”

“I just called for Mr. Stewart.”

“Oh. And I just told you that Mr. Stewart is in conference and cannot be disturbed.”

Cathy took a deep breath. “Well, you go and tell Mr. Stewart that Mrs. Stewart is on the line and that I want to speak to him NOW.”

“But, Mrs. Stewart.”

“NOW,” said Cathy, gripping the receiver tightly, her palms wet with perspiration and anxious audacity.

“Very well,” sniffed the secretary, as she put Cathy on hold.

Like good secretaries everywhere, Michael’s secretary had long ago learned that orders from the boss were automatically transcended by orders from the boss’s wife. It was a typical case of being between a rock and a hard place. Either way, she would get reprimanded for interrupting him. It was only a question of when. Now, because she had, or tomorrow because she hadn’t and he had had to listen to an earful over dinner.

A whiny rendition of “Greensleeves” filtered down the polyoptic cable and into Cathy’s left ear. She drummed her fingers on the table. It was a gesture that was part impatience and part fear. She knew he would be upset.

In a few moments Michael came on the line. “This had better be important, Cathy. I was right in the middle of a big presentation.” His voice was tinged with threat and heavy with hints of husbandly annoyance.

“Where have you been?” She forgot her carefully prepared speech and said the first thing that popped into her mind.

“What do you mean, where have I been?”

“I’ve called you three times at home and you’re never there. All I ever get is the babysitter. Where have you been?” she said, repeating the litany of wives everywhere.

“Look, Cathy, I don’t have to give you a blow-by-blow account of my whereabouts every second since you’ve been gone. I’ve been out most nights with clients. You should know that. I’ve been working.” He emphasized the word “working” to delineate what to him were the obvious contrasts in how they had each been spending their time.

“I’ve been working too, Michael.” Cathy refused to be put down, after all her efforts. “You won’t believe it, but I’ve already lost five pounds.”

“Five pounds. Great. That’s really great, Cathy. You pulled me out of a meeting that could net the company ten million over the next three years to tell me that you have lost five pounds. I’ll tell that to Tibbermore. He’ll probably make me chairman of the board.” He exaggerated the sarcasm to let her see how ridiculously trivial her achievement was, compared to the one on which he was working.

“I thought you would be pleased,” she said weakly, disappointed that he didn’t see what an important victory it was for her.

“Look, Cathy. I am pleased, really.” His voice softened. He wanted to placate her. It would save time, and he wanted to get back to his meeting. “I know you want to lose some weight, but it’s no big deal. I already told you, I don’t care if you do or not. I like my Big Mama.”

“It is a big deal … to me. And Michael, please, I’ve asked you not to call me that. I don’t want to be anybody’s Big Mama. I want to be the way I was.” She hesitated. “I want to stay on another week here. I think that by then I will have made real progress, not only with the diet but with how I feel about myself as.…”

He cut her off. “Absolutely out of the question.” He said it flatly.

“But why? Why is it out of the question? We can afford it. You have someone to look after the children and someone to take care of the house while I’m away. You don’t need me to be there, Michael.”

“Cathy, you are my wife. I want you home. You are the mother of my three children. We all want you to come home.”

Cathy felt tears begin to sting her eyes. “But what about what I want?”

“Don’t be so selfish, Cathy.” He sounded exasperated. “The children and I all miss you. Think about how we feel for once.” And then he added. “It’s not like another week is going to make any difference. So what if you lose another five pounds. You’ll only gain it all back. Cathy, you know what you’re like with these diets.”

“Stop saying that! I’ve changed. And I’m not being selfish. You are. It’s always what you want. Michael wants this and Michael wants that. When you wanted to trade in the Oldsmobile for a red BMW, did I say anything, even though it’s very difficult to fit all of us in the new car? When you work late and go out with clients and don’t come home till eleven or later, do I complain?” The tears subsided and she could feel her face burning with years of pent-up anger.

“Cathy, I thought we agreed that my job was very important to the welfare of this family. I work like a dog to make a good life for you and the kids. It isn’t easy, you know, being the breadwinner. As for the car, I need that kind of image in this business. To be really successful you have to project a successful image.”

“That’s a crock, Michael and you know it. You got the car because you wanted it. You love your job, and the reason you can spend so much time on your career is because I make it possible by doing all the other things, like running your home and raising your children.” She was letting it all out now, all the unspoken frustrations of her marriage.

“I work like a dog, too. But you never stop to consider that, do you? You never think that my hard work entitles me to any special treatment. Everything in our whole marriage has been designed around what you want, only you. Can’t you see that?” She knew she was shouting now, but she didn’t care.

“Cathy, I think you’ve said enough.” His voice held the cold, hard edge of disapproval that once would have been enough to silence her.

“Oh you do, do you? Well I don’t think I’ve even started yet. It’s time for me to think about what I want for a change, and I want to stay another week.”

“Don’t raise your voice to me, Catherine,” He said coolly, in the carefully measured tones usually employed for talking to hysterical children and disobedient pets. “I expect you to come home at the end of the week and that’s my final word on the subject.”

Cathy suddenly felt herself growing smaller, losing ground, knuckling under. Her short burst of rage was so uncharacteristic that it had unsettled her, thrown her off her course. She had so little courage to draw on, and she had just about used up her reserve. Then she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror. For the first time, she saw a noticeable improvement. She smiled at her reflection. “Don’t let him bully you,” said the Cathy in the mirror. “If you give in to him now, you’ll be giving in for the rest of your life.”

“Catherine, did you hear what I said? I expect you to come home at the end of the week and that’s final.” The sudden sound of his voice startled her out of her musing.

“Yes, Michael,” she said slowly. “I heard what you said.” She was back to her normal decibel rate, but her voice was different, firmer. “And now I have something to say to you.” She paused, gathering the remaining shreds of her courage around her. “Don’t bother going to the airport on Saturday, because you’ll have a long wait!”

She hung up, slowly and carefully laying the receiver into its cradle. There was no need to slam it down. For the first time in a long time, Cathy Stewart was in perfect control.