“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Consider the idea and then let it all go. We’ll start fresh. Hi, Cathy, my name is Stone Ward. Tell me about yourself.”
She plucked at the comforter cover. “There’s nothing to tell. That’s why I made up the stories. The real Cathy Eldridge is pretty boring.”
“I think she’s bright and funny. Tell me about your family. The hospital said they couldn’t get in touch with any-one.”
He was trying to make her feel better. Cathy believed that with all her heart. But he was heading in the wrong direction. This line of conversation was even more distressing than the memories of her lies. Then she reminded herself it had been a long time. The past was behind her and had therefore lost its power to hurt her.
“I don’t have any family,” she said. “My father is gone. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. He took off when I was a baby. My mother never said anything about him. I don’t even know where he’s from. Mom was an orphan. There was always just the two of us. She—”
Cathy paused. How was she supposed to sum up her life in a couple of witty sentences?
“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Stone told her.
“No, it’s fine. She drank a lot. I took care of her. When she was sober, she was great and that’s how I try to remember her. But I never knew what she was going to be like, so when I was growing up, I didn’t get close to a lot of people. Kids would want to come visit me at home, and I couldn’t take the chance.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It was.” She shrugged. “I adjusted. I guess I’ve always been a loner.”
“Then we have that in common.”
Cathy stared at him, at the shape of him, and wondered why Stone chose to live like this—so cut off from the rest of the world. He could fit in anywhere. Even if the scars were bad, people would understand. Friends would.
“I used to have a lot of dreams,” she confessed. “About what would happen when I was finally on my own. I had this vision of a wonderful life. Sort of like the one I made up for you.”
“You could still make that happen.”
Cathy thought about her job at the answering service. It didn’t pay very much, and she didn’t have any skills to get another job. She’d once thought about college, but instead of heading off to higher education with the rest of her highschool graduating class, she’d stayed home to take care of her mother. The alcohol had taken its time to ravage the older woman’s body—she’d spent nearly two years trying to die.
“In theory those dreams could come true,” Cathy said. “But it’s been so long now. I’ve forgotten most of them, and it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“I disagree.”
She knew from past experience there was no point in arguing with him. “What about your dreams?” she asked. “What do you want?”
“I have everything I need,” he told her.
She wanted to point out that want and need were not the same thing at all, but she didn’t think that was her place.
Silence stretched out between them, but it was comfortable. She liked hearing his voice like this. He sounded a little different than he did over the phone. Plus she could see him—sort of. At least the outline of him, the way his body moved when he talked. With him in the room, she didn’t feel so alone.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked. “Tell me the truth this time.”
“I told you the truth before. I brought you here because I care about you. Over the past couple of years, we’ve become friends. I don’t have many of those in my life and I treasure the ones I’ve made. I want you to get better and selfishly I brought you here to make sure that happened. Does that answer your question?”
It did, but it also raised a hundred more. Stone said he thought of her as a friend. Cathy didn’t know what other explanation there was. She’d tried to think of another motive. He could have easily hung up during the fire and not given her another thought. Or he could have visited in the hospital, done his duty as a client of the service, then let her be. But he hadn’t. Maybe she should just stop asking and believe him.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome. Now close your eyes.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He chuckled. “Come on. You can trust me.”
“I—” Cathy stared at him, but it was a futile effort. She couldn’t see much of anything. “All right.”
