CHAPTER 27
Joe
For several months after Cate and I got engaged, everything was so damn good. Exciting and hopeful and just wonderful. I realized that beyond how much I loved her, being with her also allowed me to escape being a Kingsley, at least in part. Our relationship was the first thing in my life that didn’t feel foisted upon me—like Harvard, and law school, and my respectable job as a prosecutor. Even the campaign felt like another weight on my shoulders, a burden of my legacy. But with Cate by my side, that pressure felt manageable. She kept telling me that I could do it. That she was proud of me. That I didn’t have to be my father, but that I was more than the free-spirited, risk-taking lightweight persona I’d always tried to hide behind.
Then, suddenly and overnight, everything changed. That was my perception, anyway, though maybe it had happened more gradually, and I’d just been too busy with my campaign to notice.
I’d returned from Peter’s bachelor party in Miami, his wedding only two weeks away. My flight landed around two, and I called Cate the second I walked in my door from LaGuardia. It had only been forty-eight hours since I’d seen her, but I missed her a crazy amount.
Elna answered their phone, and after we chatted a few seconds, she put Cate on.
“Hey! Where’ve you been?” I asked her. “I tried you twice yesterday. Did you get my messages?”
She said yes. Nothing more.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little under the weather…”
“Oh, shoot. Do you think it’s the flu? It’s going around.”
“No,” she said. “It’s mostly just a headache.”
“A migraine?” I asked, familiar with those from my mother’s spells over the years.
“I’m not sure,” she said, sounding both vague and distant.
“Okay. Well, can I bring you anything? Meds or soup?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need to lie down.”
“Okay,” I said. “Check in with me later, okay?”
“Will do,” she said, then quickly hung up.
—
Later that night, when I hadn’t heard back from Cate, it crossed my mind that she could be mad about Peter’s bachelor party. She hadn’t asked any questions, but I was sure she assumed strippers were involved—which they had been. In the scheme of bachelor parties, it had been on the tame side—just the standard antics in a hotel suite—but I was still feeling guilty, wishing that we had taken a sailing trip instead.
At the risk of interrupting her sleep, I called Cate back. She answered on the first ring, sounding wide awake.
Wondering why she hadn’t called me, I asked her how she was feeling.
“Pretty much the same,” she said, her voice as flat as it had been on the first call.
“Oh…Well, I’m sorry to bother you again—but I was just worried…are you upset with me about the weekend?”
“The weekend?”
“I mean—the stripper stuff…It’s all so stupid…but harmless. And I just wanted you to know that nothing happened.”
“Jeez, Joe,” she said. “I would hope nothing happened.”
Feeling a little stupid, I said, “Yeah. Totally…I didn’t even get a lap dance. In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t. But thanks,” she said with a little laugh that I couldn’t read.
“Okay…so you’re sure you’re not upset with me?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“And nothing’s wrong?”
She hesitated, then said, “No. Not really.”
“Not really?”
She sighed, then said, “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“What’s on your mind?” I said, getting increasingly worried.
“You know. Everything. The wedding. The campaign…It’s a lot…. I’m just not sure we can pull this off—”
“Pull the campaign off?” I asked her—because not a day went by that I didn’t think about throwing in the towel before I’d even declared my candidacy. I had no experience, and beyond how worrisome that was, I wasn’t even sure what I stood for. At times, I even felt paranoid that I was just being manipulated, used for my name. Much like at my job in the DA’s office, everyone involved in the campaign had an agenda, but instead of being one cog in the whole operation, I was now in the eye of the storm.
“Not the campaign,” Cate said. “I meant the wedding.”
“The wedding?” I asked. “Did something happen? Did the press find out?”
“No. But I’m sure they will. Maybe we should put the wedding on hold so you can focus on your campaign?”
“No way,” I said. “Marrying you is my top priority.”
“But—”
“But what?”
“I don’t know….” she said, her voice trailing off. “Nothing, I guess.”
“Cate. Please talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Have I not been helping enough with the planning?” I asked, suddenly sure that was it. The past few weeks had been incredibly hectic as I’d been bombarded with endless administrative tasks, from hiring staff to filing paperwork to gearing up for fundraising. And then there was the matter of Valentine’s Day, which she’d told me she hated and wanted to ignore. I’d believed her, but maybe it had been one of those tricks. A test that I’d failed. My mind was spinning as I waited for her to answer.
“I just don’t know that the timing is right…. I don’t know if it makes sense to plan a wedding while our lives are in such flux…. And, really, what’s the rush?”
“There’s no rush. But I also don’t see the point in waiting. And the longer we wait, the more likely the media will find out.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But if they do find out, there will be a complete circus at the same time you’re announcing your run.”
“Okay. So you want to wait until after the election? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“What about moving in with me? Do you want to put that on hold, too?”
I held my breath, praying she’d say no. Instead, she sighed and said, “I don’t know. Maybe. You know your mother hates the idea—”
“I don’t care—” I said, getting upset.
“Okay, Joe,” she said. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. That’s all…and this headache—I just want to go back to sleep. Is that okay?”
“Of course, honey,” I said.
I told myself to be patient—that her mood would pass. But I felt a knot in my stomach as I hung up the phone.
—
For the next few days, it was more of the same. Cate kept blowing me off and making up excuses until I finally told her I was coming over to see her. Right now.
“I’m about to go for a run,” she said, evading me once again.
“Where?”
“At the Reservoir.”
“Can I meet you there?”
She hesitated, then gave me some excuse about how the paparazzi were more likely to recognize her if she was with me. But I was determined to see her, already lacing up my Nikes.
A minute later, I was out the door, hightailing it up to the park. When I got to the Reservoir, I began walking clockwise against the foot traffic, searching for her. About half a loop around, I spotted her running toward me. Wearing all black, she looked so strong—her pace faster than usual.
She didn’t see me until she was right on me, but as soon as she did, she gave me a smile. It was a good sign.
“Fancy seeing you here!” I said, grinning at her.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re too much,” she said, leaning down to put her hands on her knees and catch her breath.
“I had to see you,” I said.
She stood up straight, then stared into my eyes, her expression impossible to read. “Well. Here I am.”
“Yes. A sight for sore eyes…Mind if I join you?”
“Do I have a choice?” she said with a laugh.
I smiled back at her and said no.
“Well. Come on, then,” she said, jogging away from me and motioning over her shoulder for me to join her.
I took a deep breath, then reversed direction, catching up to her. For the next twenty minutes or so, we ran in silence as I struggled to keep up with her. At one point, she suddenly stopped, abruptly swerving off the path. She then plopped down onto the ground and began to stretch. I followed her, sitting cross-legged in the grass beside her, waiting for her to say something.
When she didn’t, I cleared my throat and said, “Okay, Cate. What’s going on? You’re not yourself.”
“I told you. I’m just feeling overwhelmed,” she said, avoiding my gaze as she spread her legs in a V shape and touched her nose to one knee, then the other.
“Are you getting cold feet?” I asked her point-blank.
“I wouldn’t say cold feet,” she said, waffling. “I just think we’re moving…a little fast.”
“Okay. We can slow it down…if that’s what you really want.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I just think we should do that for now. You need to focus on your campaign. Give it your all. You can’t have any distractions right now.”
“You’re not a distraction.”
“Weddings are a distraction,” she said. “Look at Peter and Genevieve. They’re consumed….”
“We aren’t having that kind of wedding.”
“Still. If the media finds out…”
“Would you rather just elope?”
“Joe. Stop!” she said. “I told you what I wanted! I want to wait! You’re not listening!”
“Okay, honey,” I said, putting my hand on her leg. “Calm down.”
She pushed my hand away and said, “Don’t tell me to calm down! I hate when you do that!”
I looked at her, surprised, because I couldn’t remember a single instance when I’d ever told her to calm down. I almost pointed this out but decided that probably wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I just apologized.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Just stop all of this.”
“All of what?”
“The clamoring and nagging…I just need a little space.”
“From me?”
“From everything!” she said, her voice rising, as I caught a woman staring at us. Her face lit up as she pointed us out to her friend.
“Shhh,” I said, looking down at the ground. “People are looking—”
“Don’t shush me! And of course they’re looking! You came to the park when I told you not to!”
“I came to the park because you refused to see me,” I said, my worry morphing into frustration with a tinge of anger.
“Exactly. I refused to see you because I didn’t want to see you. Get how that works?” she said, her voice icy.
“Jeez,” I said. “Why are you being such a jerk?”
“I’m not being a jerk, Joe! I told you I wanted to go for a run alone, and you showed up anyway! That’s selfish as hell. It’s not always about you!” she yelled, getting to her feet and glaring down at me.
“Dammit, Cate,” I said, standing and facing her. “I know it’s not about me. I’m trying to—”
“What?” she yelled. “What, exactly, are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to talk to you. I’m worried about you,” I said.
“Well, don’t be! I’m fine! I was fine before you. I’m fine now. And I’ll be fine—” She stopped abruptly, and so did my heart.
“Finish your sentence,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Come on, Cate. Go ahead and tell me. What were you going to say?”
“Nothing,” she said, clearly lying. Then she shook her head and turned to go.
I grabbed her arm and said, “That you’ll be fine after me? Is that what you were going to say?”
She pulled away and said, “No. I was just going to say that I’ll always be fine.”
“No, you weren’t,” I said. “That’s not what you were going to say.”
She bit her lip, shook her head, then said, “Okay, Joe. You want to push this?”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“Fine,” she said, her eyes flashing with anger.
I waited a few seconds, then watched with shock as she took off her ring and shoved it into my chest. “I can’t do this.”
“What?” I said, backing up, horrified.
“Take the ring, Joe,” she said, giving me a steely gaze.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t do this—”
“Take it, Joe. Now.”
I kept shaking my head, then began to beg. Please don’t do this. Please.
But she clearly wasn’t listening. Instead, she dropped the ring on the ground, then turned and walked away.