Hope Begins to Fade

First Class Ticket to Guilt

Cathy and I were waiting for Steph so we could plan the surprise birthday party Steph had decided to throw Brian. As Steph and Brian were still residing in Steph's condo it had originally been planned that we'd hold the party at Zacky's but for one reason or another, Zacky didn't offer anything other than a vague apology, that plan had fallen through. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that no one would even suggest Matt's house and as it couldn't be guaranteed that Johnny wouldn't booby trap his entire house in an ever escalating series of pranks on Brian it had been decided that Cathy and Jeff would have the honour of hosting the party.

Cathy had a stack of note books in front of her ready to start planning. I couldn't really understand why, it wasn't as if these guys had complicated requirements. I was certain that all Brian would care about on his birthday was that there was plenty of alcohol, music and enough food to feed an army. Other than that he'd want Steph and, for at least part of the time, Baby Haner. So it was no wonder that I was distracted by my own circuitous 'Matt and Caitlin what does it all mean?' thought cycle when Cathy spoke.

"I wonder if Matt is going to want me to finish up this project?" Cathy mused.

"What?" I asked and mentally scolded myself in the way I knew my mother would if I'd responded to her with that one word answer. By mother I obviously meant my step-mother who, as an English teacher, loathed that type of one word response.

"You know, finish decorating the house. Val had me redo a lot of stuff here and she had planned that I'd finish everything else up next month when y'all are out on tour. I don't know if Matt is going to want to do the rest of the work. It was after all Val's project." As Cathy spoke she noted down party planning headings in one of her notebooks.

I took a gulp of my coffee; yes my crippling jetlag had me consuming the devil's brew. Curiosity burned through me and I wanted to kick myself. I had to know which parts of the house were Val's work and which were Cathy's. Frustration gripped me. I'd worked for Cathy. I'd been her assistant and now I was Matt's and a good assistant would have known the details of what her boss was working on. Clearly I was a bad assistant because I didn't have a clue. Steeling myself I forced out a nonchalant question, "Which parts are still left to do? I can ask Matt what his plans are." Of course I could do that, my question had nothing to do with me wanting to know where in the house my brain could relax from thoughts of Val and the way in which I was betraying her, Michelle, their family and maybe even Matt's family.

Cathy shrugged and said, "Don't worry about it. I was just thinking out loud. I could ask him myself but I won't because then it would seem as though I was only concerned about the money. Which I'm not. The work that was left to do was upstairs in the bedrooms. Everything down here that needed to be done has been done including the mother-in-law suite which I guess you're using. That's good though. Matt will need that room for a nanny or housekeeper when you move on."

My heart broke. Of course it did. Cathy couldn't have had any idea of how much I had to take away from her statement. Maybe it wasn't me that had Matt in my bed every night. Maybe it was just that the room I slept in was one that Val hadn't decorated. That was what my stupid brain kept repeating even though my heart was screaming that Val had never decorated a hotel room in her life and Matt had spent every night in my bed when we stayed in those. It wasn't that that had my gut clenching in dismay though, no, it was the way Cathy assumed that I'd eventually be moving on. It was a logical assumption. After all no one knew we were together and I had only taken a job with him to help him get over the worst days after Val's death and to help him get through his tour worry free. From the start I was only a temporary fixture in his life. So why the heck did it hurt so much? Leaving Matt would be bad enough but it would kill me to know that everyone I knew pitied me, or worse hated me, for being stupid enough to get involved with him.