CHAPTER 28
Cate
I’m not sure where the photographer was hiding or how long-range his camera lens was, but he caught every second of our fight in the park—on video, no less—including the part after I left, when Joe sat back down on the ground and cried, his face in his hands.
I never actually saw the video, but Elna and Curtis and Wendy did, along with everyone else and their mother, after the film and photographs were sold to Entertainment Tonight and dozens of other outlets. I asked my friends to give it to me straight—and they did, reading aloud the headlines, ranging from Hunk Dumped to Cate Hate to the simple and succinct It’s Over!
It was the biggest shitshow to date, proving once again that bad news outsells good. The only silver lining was that things finally seemed black and white. Our caught-on-camera fight crystallized my gut feeling that I couldn’t marry Joe. If the press went this crazy over a fight in the park, I couldn’t imagine what they’d do when they discovered the truth about my father. It would be unbearable for everyone involved, not to mention the damage it would do to Joe’s image and political career and relationship with his mother. Bottom line, the tabloids got it right, for once.
It was over.
Meanwhile, I hid from the world as photographers staked out my apartment and my phone rang off the hook. I screened my calls, ignoring everyone, including Joe, who left several pleas on my answering machine.
The only time I picked up was when I heard my mother’s voice droning on about how sad she was to see that Joe and I were in a fight. Overcome by rage, I grabbed the phone with one hand as Elna held my other.
“Don’t ever call me again,” I said, my voice low and steady.
“Cate? Is that you?”
“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes, determined. “And listen carefully—because this will be the last time you ever hear my voice.”
“What in the world is going on? I’m so confused—”
“Really, Mom? Are you really going to sit there and play dumb with me?”
Silence filled the airwaves.
“I met Dean, Mom,” I said. “In the park. Too bad the paparazzi didn’t get a video of that, although I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they break that news, too—”
“Oh, Catie…I’m so sorry—I just wanted to protect you….”
“Bullshit, Mom! That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard. You have never protected me. Never! Not once in your life.”
“Catie. Please. I’ve tried—”
“No, Mom. If you wanted to protect me, you would’ve left Chip. You wouldn’t have married him in the first place. I grew up with a monster who completely eviscerated my self-esteem because you, Mom, are a coward. A selfish coward,” I said, my voice now shaking.
Elna was still holding my hand and squeezed it as hard as she could.
“I’m sorry,” my mother sobbed into the phone.
“How could you lie to me like this? About my own father? How?”
“Cate, please! Try to understand. You were a little girl. A baby. I didn’t want you growing up knowing that your father was in prison—”
“So you tell me he’s dead? How about a nicer lie, like, say, he moved to Africa to feed starving people?”
I was mostly being sarcastic, but my mother missed it, saying, “But then you’d have hope that he’d come back.”
“Well, surprise! He did come back!”
“He wasn’t supposed to,” she said. “They said life with no parole.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mom! Do you hear yourself?”
“You were so little—”
“Okay, well, what about when I grew up? When I was a teenager? When I left home? It never crossed your mind to sit me down and tell me the truth?”
“A million times,” she said, sobbing. “But—I couldn’t—”
“WHY NOT?” I screamed, pulling my hand away from Elna as I stood up and began pacing around the room.
“Because. Then Chip would have known…and he would have…”
“He would have WHAT, Mom?”
“He would have gone berserk….”
“Berserk like throwing cat shit around my room—or berserk like breaking your collarbone? Or something else?”
“Cate. Stop. Please.”
As I listened to my mother sobbing, doing her best to justify the unjustifiable, I felt any last trace of residual compassion I’d ever had for her disappear.
“I mean it, Mom. I’m done. Please don’t ever call me again.”
I hung up before she could respond, then promptly crawled back in bed, where I pretty much remained for the next three days, except when Elna made me get up to shower or eat.
On the fourth day, Elna and Curtis staged a mini-intervention in my bedroom.
“Cate, you can’t hide like this forever,” Elna began. “You have to face the world.”
“And you have to talk to Joe,” Curtis added. “He’s left so many messages. He’s called both of us—”
“What have you told him?” I asked, sitting up in bed.
“Nothing,” he said. “I swear.”
“Elna?”
“He hasn’t. We haven’t. But you have to talk to him.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s over. I gave him back the ring.”
“Okay, look,” Elna said. “If you don’t want to marry him, that’s fine—”
“No, it’s not!” Curtis chimed in.
“Yes, it is, Curtis,” Elna said in her most stern voice. “But even if she doesn’t marry him, she owes him an explanation about why she’s doing this.”
“Why is she doing this?” Curtis asked her.
I sighed because I’d explained it to him several times already. My father was an ex-con who was responsible for the deaths of three human beings. I said it again.
“But you didn’t do anything,” Curtis said. “You didn’t even know any of that—”
“Nobody will believe that I didn’t know,” I said. “I told Joe he was dead.”
“You thought he was dead! Joe will believe you. You’re not a liar, Cate. He knows that.”
“It’s just too much,” I said, thinking of the things I had kept from him along the way. “And Dottie and Berry will never believe it. Never.”
“But it’s the truth—” Curtis said.
“Sometimes the truth doesn’t matter. Do you know anything about politics? The Kingsley family?”
“They’ve had scandals before,” Curtis said. “You’ve heard the rumors about his father cheating, haven’t you?”
“Those are just rumors,” I said. “Joe doesn’t believe them.”
“Where there’s smoke there’s fire,” Curtis said.
“Are you seriously comparing infidelity to murder?”
“It wasn’t murder,” Curtis said. “It was a tragedy—and yes, it was criminal—but none of this is a reason for you not to marry the love of your life.”
“Elna?” I said, turning to her. “Will you please explain this to him?”
Elna cleared her throat and said, “I think you’re missing the point, Curtis. It’s not that her father’s crimes are the reason not to marry Joe. And it’s not whether Joe will believe that she didn’t know…because I, for one, think he will believe her…. It’s that Cate sees this as further proof that she can’t live the Kingsley life.”
“But she can!” Curtis said.
“But maybe she doesn’t want to—” Elna said.
“She doesn’t want to marry the hottest guy in the universe who is madly in love with her and treats her like absolute gold?” he said.
“Maybe she doesn’t want the pressure that comes with that. The constant scrutiny. The feeling—misguided though it is—that she isn’t good enough.”
I nodded and said, “Yes. All of that. Thank you, El.”
“But you love him,” Curtis said. “Doesn’t love conquer all?”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t. And besides—if I truly love him, I need to let him go. He’ll be better off without me.”
“I don’t believe that,” Curtis said. “And neither do you. I know you don’t.”
“Yes, I do! Elna, help me out here….”
Elna sighed and said, “I can’t help you. This isn’t for me to decide. Or Curtis. Or the press or Dottie or Joe. You have to figure it out for yourself.”
I sighed and told her that I already had.
“Fine,” Elna said. “Fair enough. But you still have to get up, get dressed, and get on with your life.”
I nodded, knowing she was right.
“And you have to go talk to Joe,” she added. “You have to tell him what’s up. You don’t have to marry him, but you owe him an explanation.”
“I can’t tell him the truth,” I said, adamant. “He’ll just try to convince me it’s okay…that he understands…that we’ll make it work.”
“Because it will work!” Curtis said.
“But I don’t want it to anymore. I don’t. I don’t want this,” I said, now crying.
Elna put her hand on my arm and told me to calm down.
I nodded, taking a breath.
“Just go talk to him, Cate. Tell him a modified version of the truth. Tell him something.”
“Oh my God, that poor man,” Curtis said.
“He’ll be fine,” I said, as sickening images of Joe with other women filled my head. “He’ll move on fast.”
“That’s not fair,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “Just because he’s a Kingsley doesn’t mean he can’t have a broken heart.”
“He’ll be fine,” I said again, wondering if I ever would be.