Imperfections (15 page)

I watch her fix herself and smooth her hair down with her fingers in an effort to look like she didn't have sex in the back seat of a car. If I thought she would say yes, I would ask her to come home with me. I fix myself and she sits next to me with her hands in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankles. She doesn't look at me once and avoids all eye contact. She looks like a naughty Catholic school girl in a rock video who has to confess her sins to the priest on Sunday morning. One look at her swollen lips, disheveled clothes, wild hair, and smeared lip gloss and anyone with half a brain would know what she was doing.

"Cat, talk to me."

"I can't believe I did that. I had sex with my sister's fiancé in the back seat of a car, am I the biggest slut on earth or what?"

"Don't ever say that."

"Why not? It's the truth. Who does that? One minute we're talking and the next we're kissing and having sex."

"You want to know who does that? Two people who should have been together a long time ago but one of them was too stupid to recognize it sooner, the timing was never right. I kissed you and I'm not sorry; it was amazing from beginning to end."

"I can't believe you're saying this, you're engaged to my sister."

"I couldn't help it, I've wanted to kiss you since the first night you came back and opened that door. You took my breath away. It's as good as I remembered it; hell, it's better than the first time we kissed. I've never had a kiss like that and if it's not with you I know I never will again."

"I've always wanted you to kiss me like that ever since I was thirteen and you gave me my first kiss. I thought one day we would be together and you would choose me out of the countless girls you were with."

"I was scared. I didn't want to hurt you."

She looks at me with sad eyes. "You already did."

"And that's what I didn't want." I take her by the hand and she tries to pull away from me.

"Let go, don't touch me."

I know she's angry; I have to explain things to her. "Listen to me."

"For what? You're engaged to my freaking sister. You didn't have the guts to tell me and I had to find out the very first day I come home with a room full of people, dammit, Nick. I and our friendship couldn't have meant that much to you."

"I have feelings for you, Cat. I've always had feelings for you. Feelings I've never had for any other woman I've ever been with. You have always been more than my friend; you have always come first before any other woman in my life. You know that what we have between us is more than just a friendship and that kiss and what happened in here proves it. When you left I didn't know you were coming back, I thought maybe it was for the best to preserve the friendship we had. I wasn't ready to settle down with one woman, I was young and unsure of what I wanted. I would have broken your heart and hurt you by making promises I couldn't keep."

Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears and she's shaking her head. "Why are you telling me this now when it's too late?"

"Don't cry."

"Don't cry? Why the hell not? This is what I have always wanted to hear from you but not while you're engaged to my sister."

"I'm not engaged to your sister."

"What do you mean you're not engaged to her? I was there in the room when she made the announcement."

"I'm not marrying your sister. I don't love her and we're not a couple."

"I don't understand, why would she say you two are engaged, and why would you go along with it if you're not together?"

She looks at me confused and I take a deep breath preparing to tell her the biggest mistake I've ever made. "You deserve the truth. I'm going to give you the whole truth. I should have told you from the start of this mess." I take another breath and blow it out hoping it doesn't sound as bad as it does in my head.

"A few months ago, before I found out you were coming back, I saw your sister at a mutual friend's dinner party. We started talking, she told me about her and Michael breaking up and I told her about my breakup with Paige. That's the first time we really had a conversation since we've known each other. At the end of the dinner party, she asked me if I wanted to come over to her place. Since I've never seen it before, I said sure why not.

"When we got there we had a few more drinks and watched a movie. She kissed me and I wasn't thinking straight so I kissed her back and we ended up having sex, one time. The next morning we agreed it was a one-time thing and it wouldn't happen again. Before you came back, she came to my office and told me she was pregnant. I told her I need a paternity test because we used protection. She's going to take a paternity test as soon as possible to see if the baby is mine."

I stop talking and wait for her to say something. She doesn't say a word or move. She's sitting straight as a statue looking at me with a blank expression like she's in a trance so I continue.

"The wedding talk and the engagement is all an act so it doesn't look like what it is. We had sex one night and I might be the father of her unborn baby. She doesn't want anyone to know, especially your family. She wants to get married if the baby's mine. I told her I would take care of her and the baby financially if it's mine. We would be co-parents but nothing more. There is absolutely nothing between us, it was one time."

"Wow, where is Maury when you need him," she says. Like a game show model she throws her hands up in the air at me to show me the prize I've won. "You are not the daddy!"

This is one prize I wish I could give back. I don't even want to be entered for the runner- up next to the loser.

She wipes the corners of her eyes with her fingers when the tears roll down. "That would be freaking fantastic wouldn't it, Nick? Well maybe if you go up to the TV and rub it like a genie, he could come out and grant your wish. You are unfuckingbelievable."

I don't say anything to her. I let her finish, she needs to get this out; if I were her, I would punch me in the face and never look back. I'm hoping this is not how it turns out. I know after tonight I have to give her time and that's going to be hard as hell for me to do after being with her tonight.

"We just had unprotected sex, at this very moment I could be pregnant with your second child."

She cries, wiping away more tears. "Really! Seriously! This is Maury and Jerry rolled into one. I'm suddenly living the throw back white trash ghetto fabulous life right here, right here in the back seat of a car."

She covers her face with her hands and slumps back against the seat. She wipes the back of her hand across her face, the tears silently streaming down and my heart twists inside out seeing her like this. I did this to her. I want to take her into my arms and kiss her, tell her everything is going to be okay but that would be a lie. It's only going to get worse from here.

She sits up and picks up her purse from the floor.

"Let me walk you to the door." Reaching over to touch her she pulls back, away from me.

"No. You've done way too much already."

She opens the door and a blast of cold air hits me hard. She gets out managing not to touch me. Turning around with all the hate and anger toward me written all over her tear-stained face, she tries to compose herself before she speaks to me. I patiently wait till she's ready.

"I'm fucked literally and figuratively. Thank you!" she hisses between clenched teeth slamming the car door. I watch her go inside closing the door before I tell my driver to take me home.

"Catherine, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Catherine!"

I'm sitting up in the couch with my legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. I almost jump off the couch when a hand pats me on the shoulder. I look up and my mother's saying something to me but I can't hear her with my headphones on. I take them off. "Hi, Mom."

"Didn't you hear me? I was calling you."

"Sorry, I was listening to my iPad and trying to go over the lesson plan for Mrs. Smith's kindergarten class."

"I didn't know you started working already?"

"I haven't, she asked me if I could come in a few days a week so the kids and I can get used to each other. It'll be better for them instead of her suddenly leaving at the beginning of the year to go on maternity leave."

She leans down and gently brushes my legs off the sofa. "Darling, please don't put your legs on the couch, sit up straight. It's better for your back."

"Mom, my back is just fine."

"It won't be if you keep sitting like that. How will you ever find a man if you look like the hunchback of Notre-dame? Honey, you're a cute girl but no matter how cute you may be, no man wants that."

"He wouldn't be the man for me if he's superficial enough to only judge me by what he sees on the outside instead of getting to know me to see my inner beauty and that I have a mind."

"Please, have I not taught you anything? Men are visual creatures, if they like what they see then they might get to know you enough to find out who the real you is. Most men don't want to know the real you. They want to look at something pretty to show off to their friends, they're looking for a trophy and if you come with a brain that's a bonus."

"Mom, I can't believe you just said that." I can't believe it because almost word for word that's what Isabelle said at lunch to Ava, Chloe, and me. At times my mom is behind the times when it comes to her thinking about men and women. This is one subject we do not see eye to eye on. I shouldn't have to pretend to be something I'm not in a relationship with the man I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I should be able to be comfortable with who I am and so should he. You can only hide the real you for so long, I believe it's better you know who I am upfront rather than later.

"Don't look so shocked, Catherine. Think about it, most women who are highly educated, running their own business or the head of a Fortune 500 company are what? Single."

"That's not true." I close my iPad and put it on the table while she keeps talking.

"You want to know why?"

I sigh and sit back and wait to hear the rest of her life lessons on men and relationships. I'm really trying not to be sarcastic. "Why, Mom?"

"Because they want to be the man in the relationship. They want to pay for everything, tell the man what to do and how to do it. No real man wants that, as a woman you have to know when to step back and let the man be a man."

"How would you go about doing that?" I'm humoring her to get her to stop talking quicker; I don't want to hear this. I've listened to her spout this stuff off to me for years.

"Pay attention, dear, I can teach you something about how to get a man and keep him."

Here we go. I sit back and pretend to care about men, women, and relationships.

"Lesson one: let the man pick up the check even if you make more than he does and you can afford to."

"How's that going to make him feel like a man?"

"By letting him feel like he can take care of his woman. Men want to feel like they're needed even if they're not. Never let them feel emasculated. If you do that, they're going to find someone else to make them feel like a man. Sit up straight and pay attention, Catherine, I'm giving you my best pearls of wisdom."

"I'm listening to every word you say, Mother. I can't wait to hear what else you have to say. I'm pretty sure with the experience you've had over the years you know exactly what you're talking about."

"Then pay attention. Lesson two: make sure he loves you more than you love him. That way when and if trouble arises he is more likely to forgive you for your mistake. Huh! You know that lesson well, don't you?"

"What kind of mistake mother?"

"Darling, it can be anything from burning his favorite shirt while ironing or spending too much at Tiffany's. What is that look for?"

"What look?" I wave my hand in the air with a flourish, eyes open wide with a regal tone in my voice. "I'm listening to your worldly knowledge of women and men. What did you call them…your priceless pearls or gems of wisdom?"

She puts on her stern expression. She's given me that expression many times over the years. When I was a child we could never see eye to eye. She would want me to go right and I would have rather gone up and around. I wanted to play soccer and she wanted me to take ballet classes. In the end, if we couldn't agree, the deciding vote would come down to my father and who do you think he sided with? Me or his beloved wife who he had to deal with for the rest of his life? Exactly!