Missing Pieces of My Forever-Heart (2 page)

Jame

So was this IT?  Would I finally get the “I am so sorry for what happened.  It’s haunted me my entire life.  I’m so sorry for how much I hurt you.  I’m begging your forgiveness” confession?

Did I
really
want to see him again?

I didn’t answer the email right away.  First of all, I didn’t want to seem too easy, although heaven knows my first reaction was yes, he’s finally going to apologize.  I will have closure on one of the most painful times of my life. Could I make him suffer the way I suffered?

I waited two days then sent a nonchalant reply, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

Then I worried that he’d never try to convince me to see him. I didn’t sleep that night.  I was so jumbled up and hating that I felt like I was back in high school, waiting for him to call after a fight or a break up.

Then his second email popped up in my inbox. 

Cath,

I totally understand that this is out of the blue.  If you really don’t want to see me, I’ll understand. But I’m hoping you’ll find it in your heart to say yes.

Jame

Dammit! After all these years he still knows that a sincere, honest approach works best with me, and I reluctantly, stupidly agreed to see him.

So here he was looking very out of place on my flowered couch but calm as anything.  Meanwhile, my heart was down in my stomach and I wanted to throw up.

“So what do you want?”  That’s it, Cath, be strong. Get right to the point. Don’t let him get the upper hand.

“First, I want to say how sorry I was to hear about your husband passing away.  It must have been so hard for you.”

Oh no- I’m so NOT going there.

“Ok. Thank you.”

“Um,” he squirmed a little bit on my fluffy flowered cushions. “Well, there’s been something on my mind for a long time now. I don’t know how to say it, but there’s been this empty place inside me for years.  I think it probably caused my two divorces and made me feel like I’ve just been drifting through my life.”

What?  Does he want sympathy from me? I’ve been through hell twice and he wants me to feel sorry for his divorces? No way. I held my stoic gaze, not letting his words penetrate the wall around my heart.

“I don’t want to cause you any more pain. I really mean it, Cath.  I know I hurt you so much.”

Okay, a little melt in the heart area after hearing those words.  Isn’t this apology what I wanted for years?  What I had cried myself to sleep over day after day?  Was I ready to hear it?

“I have something very important to tell you.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

I held my breath.  Maybe I didn’t want to hear him apologize now.  Maybe I should have left this all in the past, forgotten all about it. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have entertained that teensy, tiny seed of hope that possibly it was our time to be together again.  Even after all the hurt and pain, he still was the first love of my life. And I had been so lonely. So bone-achingly, heart-empty alone since Sam died and the girls left for college. I think I was a little out of my mind.

I released my breath, sat up straighter in my chair and braced myself for a torrent of emotions. Here was my apology.

Jame said, “I want to find our son.”

Chapter 4

31 years Ago - Our Lady

of Sorrows High School

The first game of the ninth grade basketball season was on a Friday in early December. Our frosh game was after school. Then we all went to the Princess Diner for a quick burger and fries before the junior varsity and varsity games.  All the younger players and cheerleaders were expected to sit in the stands, cheering on the older teams.  But that’s not what always happened.

Maddie had coerced her David and my Jame to sit with us at the diner thereby proclaiming to everyone else that now we both were couples, so hands off! We were still in the awkward stages of getting to know the new boy/girlfriend and eating in front of each other was an added burden for me.

We survived the meal, went back to OLOS gymnasium and sat together (as couples of course) cheering on the junior varsity team. I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable until Maddie came up with one of her
great
ideas.

“Let’s go for a walk!”  She grabbed David’s hand and led him out of school and down the street, with Jame and me following her like obedient puppies.

Oh no. Now I knew what was going on.  I was a little slow on this boyfriend thing, since Jame was my first one and this was our first “date” of the first day of my first relationship. Maddie was leading the way to “Make-Out Island.” I started to sweat bullets in my little cheerleader uniform.

Make-Out Island was in a park a few blocks away from school. You had to cross over this cute little wooden bridge to get onto a spit of land in the middle of the lake, and I had heard that this was
the
place to go and make-out (you know- heavy duty kissing).

Now remember the part that this was the first date of the first day of the first relationship for me? I HAD NEVER KISSED A BOY BEFORE!

Not unless you count Judy Bartlett teaching us how to French kiss into our hands on the playground in eighth grade, I had never been lip-to-lip or worse tongue-to-tongue with any boy. And here I was on my way to Make-Out Island with my new boyfriend Jame who shyly took my hand and quickened his pace.  He knew what was coming.

And my first kiss with Jame was pretty wonderful!  Maddie and David disappeared around some bushes, for their own privacy I assume, and Jame stopped to face me taking both my hands into his.

“It’s pretty cold tonight, huh?” Oh my romantic Jame.

“Yeah.” There I was- quick to banter back.

“Well then maybe I ought to warm you up,” he said as he put his arms around me, leaned down to my face level, and gave me the sweetest first kiss that any girl ever had. Pretty smooth for a 14-year-old.  But that was my Jame.  Sweet, really nice, always knowing the right thing to do.

So we kissed and we kissed, and I had my first make-out session with Jame Patterson.  It was so wonderful that we almost didn’t make it back for the end of the varsity game and our parents’ pick-ups.

That night I vowed to love Jame Patterson forever and ever.

Chapter 5

“YOU WHAT?”

“I said I want to find our son.  Please Cath, hear me out…”

“GET OUT!” I screamed.  Running over to the front door, I flung it open and pointed outside. “GET OUT!”

Jame must have seen the panicked look on my face and the blotches starting to erupt on my neck because he picked up his coat and walked out.

I slammed the door as hard as I could, feeling the raging lava of my emotions erupt from deep inside my belly and my memories.  Then I slid to the floor, rested my head on my knees and a savage cry poured from my insides as the tears began.

Chapter 6

31 years ago- Our Lady

of Sorrows High School

Ninth grade swept along with basketball games, classes, cheesy parties and new experiences.  I threw myself into school activities growing to love the freedom of leaving my little hometown where I took a bus by myself to a world in which I could redefine myself.

I left behind the “old” Cath- the rebel, the different marcher, the one who wanted to go west when I was told to go east.

I discovered, somewhat embarrassingly, that I wanted to fit in, to conform with the notion of what an OLOS female student was.

I came to love the uniforms we had to wear, navy blue blazers over navy blue tapered A-line skirts.  Light blue tailored blouses, navy knee socks and loafer shoes became my entre’ into a world where I could fit in and not feel like I always was out of step with the others.

Not only did I fall in first-love with Jame, I fell in love with Sister Margarita and her art classes! I swooned over the smell of oil paint, getting my fingers sooty from the charcoal pencils and creating visually wonderful things out of my mind.  I amazed myself at how much I loved it.

And words! I fell in love with words: speaking them, writing them, twisting them around in Debate Club and ARGUING! Yes, did I love arguing points in history class with Mr. Retter that it is just a perspective and not the truth that we read in history books. Prove your point to me, Mr. Retter, sir!

Poor sweet, quiet Sister Bridgette, my religion teacher.  She fended off my barrage of “sacrilegious” questions like why should we really believe Mary
themotherofgod
went up into heaven, body and all?  That’s scientifically impossible, right?  She compassioned me with her love and taught me that faith and hope are things that cannot be scientifically proven either. Bless her.

So ninth grade was a revelation of “me.” I peeled off the layers I had built up to protect myself from the criticism and ridicule of my “old” life and blossomed into Cath, the artist, newspaper reporter, ninth grade debate captain and girlfriend of Jame, the greatest boy in our freshmen class.

I even tried not to live in Pleasantville anymore.  Every Friday, I’d bring extra clothes with me to school and spent the weekends with Maddie and her family- three sisters who got along like they were all twins. The “only child” in me transformed into “another Gromley girl” and I pretended I really was.

Mom and Dad were really understanding about all this.  I think they were relieved to see me so happy after such a miserable seventh and eighth grades.  I was a new person in their eyes and felt so reborn!

Maddie and I worked out a secret system of communicating in the strict halls of OLOS.  We had “The Notebook,” an identical spiral binder to our academic notebooks, but this one was for our eyes only.  Portraying ourselves as the super-studious students we really weren’t, Maddie and I perfected our “paying total attention, Sister” faces as we secretly wrote notes to each other instead of copying down the Latin declension of amo, amas, amat.    

I’d pass The Notebook to her in the hall, getting it back after English class with Maddie’s latest news in it.  Our only sorrow that year was that we were not in any classes together, something we planned to correct in tenth grade.

My notes to Maddie were full of Jame, Jame, Jame.  He smiled at me as we passed in the hall.  Jame called me last night and we talked for an hour! I think I’m going to love Jame forever and ever, amen.

Then there was THE NIGHT! It was the end of the basketball season, a freshmen playoff tournament at the regional athletic center.  This was a super big deal.  OLOS got there by scratching and clawing our way to the finals against Christian Brothers Prep, the all-boys snooty school and our major rival.

Jame played point guard, the player on the floor who called the plays and ran the team.  My heart burst with pride (being his girlfriend I had that privilege) as he took our team to a tie score with 4 seconds left.  

Then he was fouled! The OLOS side of the bleachers erupted with screams! We were seconds away from claiming the crown and Jame was on the foul line.  He threw a quick glance around, locked his eyes with mine and gave a quick smile.  My heart was thrilled because I just knew he was going to make this shot and he was making it for me! (I know, I know- maybe I was too full of it- love that is.)

Jame calmly tossed in a swish and OLOS was ahead by one point! 3…2…1 the clock ran out on the CBP losers and we spilled onto the court celebrating our victory!

I couldn’t find Jame in the chaos so I ran back to the bleachers and hopped up onto the third row.  Scanning frantically through the crowd, I finally spotted him at the same second he saw me.  I watched him push his way past everyone, rush over to me and sweep me up in a big hug. (The priests and sisters usually frowned at this, but since we just beat the pants off CBP, everyone was happy!)

Jame swung me around and plopped me back on my feet as he leaned down to yell in my ear. “I want to go steady with you!”

I thought I hadn’t heard him right and screamed back, “You what?”

“Will you go steady with me, Cath? I love you!”

Maybe it was the adrenaline high of the game that made those words come out of his mouth, but I wasn’t letting him take them back.  “Yes, yes I want to go steady with you! I love you too!”

He gave me a friendship ring that I wore on a chain around my neck proclaiming that Jame and I were “steadies.”