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Chapter 2. Within the Future
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I step into the hall, surprised to find clothes lying all over the floor. Usually it’s cleaned up when I get home, something that also gives me a guilty conscious. Catalina has to do all the chores, and I just come home and take everything for granted.
The mail is thrown on the chair next to the door, so I bend down to take it up. A few bills, some special offers and a letter for me. I look around, wondering where my wife is.
Just when I’m about to call out for her, to let her know I’m home, I hear her voice from the kitchen. “Fred, is that you?” I don’t have time to answer before she comes skipping into the hall, throwing her arms around my neck. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry. Welcome home! How was your day?”
“Pointless, what else?” I sigh, trying to force myself to be a bit more upbeat. She doesn’t need me complaining. She never complains about anything anymore. Even though I think she should. “Is Bailey asleep?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry; did you want to see him?”
“No, I know I’m late. Things just didn’t work out the way I wanted it to,” I explain, ashamed of the fact that I have to excuse myself for neglecting my family.
Like I said, my wife isn’t what she used to be. In high school, Catalina was this strong, independent person, refusing to let anyone get under her skin. She was depressed most of the time, hiding things from me. She used to get anxiety attacks and outbursts whenever something went wrong. She tried to solve problems using her fists, and she caused trouble by accident all the time.
Then she calmed down. I suppose it was after we graduated from high school. We worked things out, moved in together and she opened up to me. Before, she was terrified of showing off her feelings, but when we moved to New York, she stopped hiding. We had those six months of happiness. Then she got pregnant. She told me at Christmas, that same year. I guess I didn’t know how to handle it at first, but it didn’t matter. She had a miscarriage, and I couldn’t deal with that, so I left.
The second time she announced that she was having a baby, I thought of it as a new beginning. A fresh start, a chance to start all over again. Catalina was surprised when I told her that I couldn’t be happier. I was. Our son, Bailey, is a miracle to me. After losing that other baby, I never thought I’d get any other children. Nothing could replace the loss I felt.
We won’t have any more children, though. I don’t care, Bailey is the only one I really want. I don’t want just a child; I want my child, my Bailey.
“That’s fine,” she says, still smiling. Catalina is always greeting me like she hasn’t seen me in weeks. With that excited bouncing, and cheering in her voice. She kisses me, wraps her arms around me and makes me feel better. This is the only place I really want to be at. Our apartment, with her and Bailey.
“I brought food,” I say, making my way into the kitchen. Catalina is back in the hall, picking up Bailey’s clothes and shoes. “I can do that later. Let’s just eat.”
She nods, obeying me as always. That’s another thing that has changed. Her ability to make her own decisions. Her independence is gone. “I’ll be right there. I just want it to look nice for you when you get home, you know that.”
“I know, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not coming home to look at a well-cleaned house. I’m here to be with you. I bought Italian food.”
Catalina pads over to me and leans over the counter. She’s not very good at cooking, so I usually bring something with me home for us to eat. What does it matter, it’s not like I can’t afford it. “Did you ask for those bread sticks I like?” she asks, looking into the bag I hold out for her.
“Of course.”
I set the table, while she rummages around in the bag, looking for the food. “I can’t find it.”
“Maybe I forgot the other bag in the car,” I realize. “Did you look in my bag?”
She walks over to the counter again, opening my bag. Then I hear a glass break, and the sound of paper hitting the floor. Lots of paper. “Oh, no!” she yells, scaring me. I hurry back to the kitchen, just to find her on her knees on the floor, next to my bag. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
I close my eyes, trying hard not to loose my temper. “That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Now everything is out of order. It’s all my fault.”
I crouch down next to her, rubbing her arm. “Don’t worry about it, Catalina. It was unintentionally. I’ll pick this up later. It won’t take long to organize.” That’s a lie. It’ll take hours to get this straightened up, but I don’t want her to feel bad about it. I grab the bag of food that caused all the trouble in the first place and help Catalina up from the floor.
While I’m picking up the splinters from the glass she broke, I try not to think of how much work I’m facing tomorrow. Or tonight, while she’s asleep.
There was a time when something like this would make her freak out completely. And back in those days, I probably would’ve yelled at her. If I begin yelling at her now, she’ll break down and cry. Somewhere along the way, she became weak.
This all happened after Bailey was born. He was supposed to be born in late August, being conceived in November and all. Whenever we celebrate his birthday, I always wonder how things would’ve turned out if he had been born on that late August day. Okay, we’ve only celebrated him three times so far, but it’s still on my mind.
Bailey was born on July 3, the same year as Catalina and I got back together. She didn’t find out about the pregnancy until February, and by then, we were ready to give our relationship another try. The year of 2003. Both a good and a bad year, considering the circumstances.
I remember that day vividly. It was early in the morning, July 2. Catalina went into labor, and I was panicking the whole time. They told us that there were some complications, and I thought that they were going to make a C-section. That was the worst day of my life. I’ve never felt so helpless before. She was in labor for about 36 hours before anything happened. I’ve never seen anyone in so much pain before.
Then she was brought into the delivery room, and I forced myself to go with her, even though I was a wreck. I know the exact time and everything, since I kept throwing glimpses at my watch over and over again. There were some more complications once the delivery started, I was certain that we’d loose the baby again. What should’ve taken 30 minutes was dragged out into hours. I almost lost her that day. She almost died.
Bailey was fine, even though he had to be put in an incubator for a while. Catalina, on the other hand, had too much severe internal bleeding after the delivery that they had to operate her. I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, because she lost her conscious right after Bailey was born. I don’t blame her, because what she went through during that delivery was probably the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed. Pure torture.
She changed after that. At first I couldn’t reach her at all. Then she was afraid to even go near Bailey. Afraid to hurt him or drop him. I had to take care of them both, which was fair, after what she’d gone through. I was 19, and I had to settle down, taking care of my family.
My dad was furious when I announced that I was dropping out of school. I’ve never been very good in school; I’m still surprised I managed to graduate from high school. Of course, my Dad’s money bought me a place at the more classy schools. Even Harvard welcomed me with open arms. What can I say, my father’s stinking rich. I gave up my education for Catalina. She went back to college after Bailey was born, and I was home with him.
She has a degree in journalism, while I’m working with assignments that make my head spin. She’s much smarter than me, but she’s still unemployed. Once she graduated, she stayed home while I was working. Maybe she feels bad because I had to take care of Bailey in the beginning, even though I’ve told her to not feel bad about that.
I was hired by my dad. He never accepted Catalina, and neither did my Mom. When they found out about Bailey, they urged her to do an abortion. That’s my parents. Now I have to take my father’s shit all day long. Just because I happened to get married by an early age. I don’t regret it. I’d do it again if I had to.
“Are you really mad?” Catalina mumbles, making me snap out of my thoughts. I look at her from across the table. She hasn’t been the same since Bailey was born. It was three years ago, and she’s still suffering from the delivery. Sometimes she’s in so much pain that I want to cry for her. Her personality changed too. From being an edgy, hot-headed, cynical, tough girl, she went to being emotional, quiet and low-key. She’s lost her self-confidence, and self-reliance. She’s relying on me to make all the decisions. I guess she’s depending too much on me.
“I’m not mad. I’m just tired,” I smile at her. “Eat up.”
“I was just wondering,” she begins. I look up again. She’s always trying to please me in some sort of way. She’s overly excited whenever I walk through the door; she’s always nice and sweet whenever she opens her mouth, asking politely about my day. Believe me, she was nothing like that in high school. She barely even talked to me about her problems. She just shut me out completely.
“Yeah?” I say, urging her to proceed. She puts another piece of bread into her mouth before continuing.
“Are you free next weekend?”
“I think so. I think I might be able to take some time off next week too. If I finish this damn project.”
Catalina chews on her lip. “Could we go somewhere?”
“Sure, where do you want to go?” I ask. Our conversations always sound like this. I guess it’s the joy of being married. Although, I’m still puzzled how I managed to get her to say yes. I’d asked her several times before that, before and after Bailey came into the picture, but she’d always said no. I never thought she’d actually say yes, and when she did, we got married instantly.
“I don’t know, what do you think?” Yes, I knew she was going to turn it around on me.
“Do you have someplace you want to go to?” I continue, trying to let her make a decision, just for once. “Hamptons? Connecticut? Florida? Venezuela?”
She laughs, giving me an amused look. “That’d be cool! No, I was just thinking.”
Nothing more comes out of her mouth, except for small sighing noises. “I can take care of this,” I offer when we’re done eating. I take away the plates and put them in the dish-washer. Catalina jumps up on the counter, watching me load some more dishes into the machine, before closing it.
“Can I help you with the papers?” she wonders, looking slightly ashamed for knocking over my bag like that. “I’ll stay up and help you get everything organized.”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll do it. But not right now. I don’t want to neglect you by doing paper work at 10.45 at night.” I lift her down from the counter and carry her over to the couch. “I want to watch some TV, forgetting all about my horrible job.”
“Fuck, it’s that bad?” she mumbles. I smile at her swearing. That’s just one thing that hasn’t changed. Her bad language. “I’ll make you some coffee.”
“And keep me hyper all night? Just be still for a second and I’ll be fine,” I say, placing her in my knee. She curls up in my arms, kissing my neck. We watch some TV, I have to really try hard not to fall asleep.
Our marriage makes me nervous. Everyone told me when I was newly wed that it was going to be pure hell. She was going to turn into some horrible bitch, making my life miserable. When I told them that I had a child with her, they just laughed, telling me that in one year, we’d be divorced.
We’re still married. Three years soon. She never became any sort of bitch. She stills crawls up in my arms, like she used to do when our relationship just started to get serious. She still cares about me; she still gives me a kiss when I have to leave for work. Despite public opinions, marriages aren’t that bad. Not my, anyway.
“I’ve seen this move,” she yawns into my throat. “They die in the end.”
“I thought it was a comedy,” I say, not really paying attention.
Catalina traces her fingers over my forehead, before turning my head towards her. I lean forward to kiss her, feeling her move to place herself over my legs. I put my hands on her hips, while throwing a glimpse at the TV. I can’t do many things at once, so I have to find the remote and turn the damn thing off before being able to concentrate.
“Do you have to do your paper work?” she murmurs, her lips slowly moving over my mouth, down my chin and back towards my neck.
I close my eyes. Yes, I do. I have to go back to work again. I want to quit, but if I do, my Dad will take me out of his will and withdraw my money. I’m depending on him. He knows how to freeze all of my accounts with just one phone call. I’m under his control.
If it was only me being affected by this, fine. I’d leave. But this would affect my wife and son too. Catalina’s credit cards would be invalid, her own accounts would be emptied out, since the money is wired from my account. I wouldn’t be able to support my own family.
This apartment is one of the few things I’ve managed to buy without my father breathing down my neck. Our last apartment we lived in before I left Catalina was also located in this building, but on another floor. It used to be three different apartments on this floor, but I bought it all to make one apartment out of it.
“Fred?” she mumbles.
“I don’t know. I really don’t feel like it,” I admit, moving my hands down over thighs. She smiles at me, putting her own hands on my shoulders. Maybe she’s not everything she used to be, but I love her with all my heart. I miss her when I’m not with her, and I worry about her when I don’t know what she’s doing.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, moving even closer. “You’ve worked a lot lately.”
I’m a lousy husband, I know. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could be home with you and Bailey instead.”
“You’re home now,” she smiles. “Please don’t do that paper work tonight.”
I nod in agreement, grab her by the waist and push her backwards. She’s so tiny. She’s always been small, but lately, I’ve noticed that she’s even smaller than before. Maybe not so much in height, but definitely when it comes to her way to act. Like she’s shrunk mentally, while becoming weak and needy.
Catalina kisses me one last time, then she tilts her head, pleading me with her eyes. “Don’t take too long.”
She knows me too well. She knows that I can’t just leave the papers on the floor, before I go to bed. Then I always get caught up in my work, ending up working all night.
“I promise,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. “I’ll be with you in a sec.”
“Uh-huh, okay,” she mumbles. Yeah, the last time I said that I happened to fall asleep in my office. Not a good sign. I’m too young to have this much responsible.
We’re always tired. I’m working all day, fighting with people, mostly my Dad. Sometimes my Mom, when she tells me my life is crap and I deserve better than Catalina.
Catalina is busy all day, taking care of Bailey, entertaining him. She keeps herself isolated in here, without talking to anyone but me. She doesn’t have any friends to interact with, and her family lives in another country. I tell her that she needs to go out into the world and meet some other people. She’s alone all day, and I barely spend one waken moment with her.
I watch as she goes in through the bedroom door. Then I pick up the scattered papers, while hating myself. She deserves better. We all do. I get up, deciding to not give a flying fuck about my idiotic project and then I go to join her. We’re tired all the time, but hopefully we’ll have enough strength to make love tonight. God knows, I need it.
Once again, I hesitate before opening the door. But what’s there to ponder about? I always over-think my actions, but I have no thoughts left in my brain right now. I just miss her. So I go in.