Hope Begins to Fade

Date Night

My bruise faded slowly. Although the Wyld Stallyns had expressed a fervent hope that the cut on my head would leave a scar I was pleased when they were proven wrong. So whilst my face was returning slowly to normal the situation with Matt was anything but. If anything about our friendship at this point could have been considered normal.

Although we'd somehow progressed to sharing a bed most nights before the weekend away there'd always been an unspoken agreement to maintain a distance from each other in the bed. On our return home somehow that distance had disappeared. It was if the night that I'd fallen asleep in Matt's arms as he pressed an ice-pack to my head had set a template for all the nights after. Every night, after the Stallyns were safely tucked up in bed, Matt found his way into my bed. Even if we'd sat and watched television in the family room or if he'd spent a couple of hours playing video games, when I went to my room and climbed into bed he followed me without a word. Oh we'd talk as we lay there but not once did we discuss our strange new habit of co-sleeping. Every night after I'd flicked off the lamp and curled onto my side to sleep Matt's arm reached across the expanse of mattress and dragged me close. I hate to admit it but as strange as it was I was beginning to depend on the weight of his arm around my body to lull me to sleep.

"I'm going out tonight," I said to Matt one morning after we'd been home for about a week. He froze his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. He was wearing what had to be one of the ugliest polo shirts I'd ever seen in preparation for his golf game that day with Jeff. Damn he looked good.

"With Cathy and Steph and the other girls?" he asked hopefully. It wasn't likely that my plans were with the girls which he knew very well.

Cathy and Jeff and Steph and Brian were coming to Matt's with Harper and Baby Gates to eat dinner and hang out. The Wyld Stallyns were ecstatic at the prospect. At least someone was. Brian still seemed to hate me and Steph's concerns over Matt's and my friendship seemed to have also infected Cathy. Jeff and Matt were likely to bore the rest of the company to tears with a shot by shot dissection of their golf game.

When I'd run into Henry during my morning walk and he'd suggested we hang out that night I'd eagerly accepted. No one would judge me for not being around if I was on a date. Not that I knew if what Henry and I were doing was a date, he didn't give me anything other than friendly vibes, but anything was possible. In my mind I was calling it a date if only to justify skipping out on what was going to be an excruciating dinner.

"No, I'm going out with another friend," I replied to Matt in an airy voice that was fooling no one.

"Oh, that's cool anyone I know?" Matt responded with nonchalance as fake as mine.

"Henry," I said dropping my eyes to my tea mug.

"Henry!" It was one explosive word.

Internally I flinched but outwardly I was as cool as a cucumber. "Mmmhmmm."

"This is fucking bullshit Caitlin. You can't go on a fuckin date with Henry," Matt ground out.

I looked quickly around to make sure the Stallyns weren't in earshot. "No Matt. What's bullshit is the way you're giving me shit for going out with a friend. I don't think there's anything in my employment contract that says who I can or can't go out with."

Matt scowled and clenched his teeth. "Maybe there should be," he hissed.

I threw my hands in the air. "Are you for real right now?"

We stood there glaring at each other. Before either of us got a chance to say anything more the doorbell rang and Jeff was calling from the open front door. "You ready to go Matt? Zacky's in the car, he decided to join us."