*
Finn heard a rustling behind him and turned to see Caitlin approaching. In her hands were two thermal carriers of coffee, one light pink and one navy blue. Anyone happening by on an early-morning hike through the woods or paddle around the lake might have taken Finn and his friend as two halves of an ordinary his-and-her equation.
She held the blue mug higher as she approached. “Peace offering,” she said, gesturing toward it with her head. “These lids work great for keeping the gnats away down here.”
Finn looked down at the ceramic mug he was holding. It was almost empty, and sure enough, a gnat was floating on the surface of what was left, still circling its wings in a futile attempt at escape.
“Thanks,” he said, bending to set his mug down on the dock at his feet. But when she reached him, she didn’t hand over the thermos. She pivoted back toward the cabin, and he followed her gaze to the kids. They were kicking a large orange air-filled ball around the grass beneath the deck, following it in a little pack of three, laughing.
“Juke!” Bear yelled, dodging between the twins. “Juke! Juke!”
Finn had taught him that. Because while Finn had never been the fastest or the strongest or the best shot on his own youth sports teams, he’d always been good at staying out of dodge.
“Remember how little they all were when we were here last summer?” Caitlin asked. “I remember sitting in this exact spot with Violet, talking about how big they’d already grown. If we’d only known then—”
As her own words registered to her ears, she stopped short. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that we couldn’t have imagined that a year down the road you’d be such an ass. I mean, you are, but…” He watched her search his face for a sign that her attempt at levity had worked, but he wouldn’t give her one. She sighed. “I just meant that neither of us realized they’d keep getting so damn big so damn fast.”
“I knew what you meant. And it’s okay. I do realize I’m not the victim in this, you know. I’m not that far gone.”
“Bear was doing that clingy thing where he wanted to be carried everywhere,” Caitlin continued, caught up in the memory. “Never mind that he was capable of outrunning the twins if he wanted to. He was skittish about new places. And do you remember how patient Violet was with him? He’d lift up those little arms and she’d bend down and tote him wherever he pointed, up to the deck, then back down here, then up again, even though he was getting too heavy for anyone’s back to handle that all day. Whatever Bear needed, she never let it show if she was too tired or not in the mood. She’s so amazing that way—and I don’t only remember watching her and thinking that. I remember watching you watching her, and knowing you were thinking the same thing.”
Finn forced a shrug he didn’t really feel.
She looked down at the mugs in her hands as if surprised to find them there. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
Her words caught him off guard. Caitlin wasn’t one to give up on anything—or anyone—once she’d set her mind to it. She was persistent to a fault. That’s a fund-raiser for you, George was fond of saying when she wouldn’t let up.
She gazed out over the water without really looking at it, her eyes moving back and forth as if she were engaged in some inner dialogue, trying to talk herself into something. Or out of something.
“I disconnected my cell phone,” he heard himself say.
Caitlin turned to Finn, her jaw suddenly slack. “What?”
“I could have left it in the hotel room. I could have tossed it in a trash can. But I didn’t want there to be any mistake about what my intentions were. I didn’t want her calling it over and over again, with false hope, or wasting time looking for it. And I didn’t want to cost her a penny more, on the next bill.”
“Very considerate.”
He closed his eyes. “You know what I’m getting at. I had to disconnect from Violet, Cait. All the way. I don’t expect you to understand, but I had to. And yet I can’t bring myself to disconnect from Bear.”
“There are other ways to go about this. Divorce. Shared custody. Pursue this any further, and you risk having your rightful half reduced to supervised visitation. Or less. Because you’ll be a felon. You’ll be disconnected from everything.”
When he didn’t answer, she looked at him for a silent moment before finally handing him the coffee she’d brought. Then, without a word, she turned on her heels and walked back up toward the cabin.
24
AUGUST 2016
Caitlin stood at the kitchen sink, ostensibly watching the kids play just outside the window. A few minutes earlier they’d been running in a herd behind that big inflatable ball, but now they were taking turns belly flopping on top of it and then rolling off into the grass. Their maniacal giggling and choruses of “Watch this—boom!” “Watch this—flop!” “Watch this—oof!” floated through the screen of the open window like a pleasant distraction.
Caitlin wasn’t watching with her usual vigilance, though. She was trying to force herself to breathe. She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She’d crushed up the pills, stirred them into the coffee, and then, in a last-minute paranoia that Finn would detect an off taste, poured in as much French vanilla creamer as she thought she could get away with. She’d walked, determined, down to where Finn was standing at the dock, but even then had stalled, throwing him one last bone, looking for some sign that he might decide to redeem himself after all. And then, when that sign hadn’t presented itself, she had handed the thermos over, as coolly as she could.
But now, her lungs were betraying her, constricting in fear. She had no idea if this would actually work, or if it did, how long it would take or exactly what it would do. But there was no turning back now—her plan was in motion. She had to stop holding her breath. She had to force calm. She had to be ready. For anything.
She startled at the ringing of her cell phone on the counter. With a shaky hand, she lifted it and saw her office number flashing across the screen. She had promised, upon taking the days off so hastily, to make herself available as needed. She had to take it.
“This is Caitlin.”
“So sorry to interrupt your time off. You know what they say: Don’t shoot the secretary.”