Nicholas Recalls Meeting Caitlin

CHAPTER TWO

We’d met, Caitlin and I, in New York City.  I’d become accustomed to dining early in the hotel restaurant on non-gig nights.  It was a good chance to wind down, read the newspaper or a book and generally relax with a glass of wine before I retired for the night with my guitar to write music.  New York on my own, no longer held promise of adventure for me. 

It was common to share the dining room with certain types of people at the early hour.  Elderly people—well, more elderly than I, families with tired, cranky children, and always businessmen in suits rudely talking on their mobile phones.

This particular evening, I glanced up from my newspaper and noticed a woman, more or less my age.  Her mousy brown hair was lightly streaked with grey and she wore no makeup.  She gave the impression of someone trying to make the best of a bad, perhaps lonely, situation.  She looked around the room, sighed, and took a table by the window facing me.  My newspaper served as a shield but something about her encouraged me to watch her surreptitiously.

She got settled and waited for her server by checking out the wine list and the few people already seated.  At one point, our eyes met and I saw that flash of instant recognition that becomes second nature to one of certain celebrity.  She quickly returned her eyes to the wine list, but her smile not only lit up her face, it made me grin as well.

Her server arrived and presently brought her an entire bottle of wine which made me think she would indeed, be dining with another person.  She laughed at an exchange with the server.  The sound was bright and clear.  I was curious about her, but waited to see who her companion might be.

A single meal was served.  She was dining alone.  I continued to catch her smile at me throughout the course of the meal.

My meal was finished and I had no reason to stay in the restaurant except for this woman.  I folded my newspaper and tried to decide whether or not to approach her when she appeared at my table.  “Excuse me,” she said softly.  “Aren’t you Nicholas Trent?”

I looked up at her over my spectacles, then grinned.  “Yes.”

“I’m a big fan of yours,” she said.  “I just wanted to tell you that.”

I nodded an acknowledgement.

Nervous, she played with the strap of her handbag.  Her nails were short though not bitten.  Neither were they shaped nor polished.

“I love your music.  It’s very . . . healing.  It’s gotten me through some difficult times.”

Well.  That made my day, didn’t it?

“Thank you.”  I nodded.  “Would you like an autograph?”

“I really—um,” she stammered.  “I really don’t mean to bother you.”

My smile widened.  I wished all my fans were as well-mannered.  I reached for a linen napkin and her eyes widened.  “Management hates when I do this, but I pay them a handsome serviette stipend, so they put up with me.  Would you join me?”

The look on her face was so cute, I laughed.  “No.  Really.  Please.”  I gestured toward the chair opposite mine.

She looked back at her table then turned again to me.  “Will you help me finish that bottle of wine?  It’s way more than I’m used to having.”

“Certainly.”  I stood and signalled the server to bring the wine and her glass, then held the chair for her to be seated.

“Thank you,” she said. 

I was afraid she was a bit star-struck.  I’d seen it before.

“It’s my pleasure.”

The server distributed the wine between the two glasses and left us alone.  I swirled the wine, sniffed and sipped.  “This is very good.  You have excellent taste.”  I lifted my glass in a toast.  “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”  She touched her glass to mine.  “Happy birthday to me.”

“Today’s your birthday?”

“Yeah.”  She cut her eyes up at me demurely.  “This is the best present ever.  You’ve improved the whole day, in fact.”

“Well, happy birthday.  So.  You know my name, but I don’t know yours, and I still haven’t autographed this linen.”  I removed my specs.

“I’m Caitlin Flynn,” she said.  “Cait.”

I pulled a Sharpie out of my pocket and looked at her, about to ask how to spell it, when she beat me to it.  “Everybody asks me that, or they go ahead and spell it wrong.” 

When I’d finished the autograph, I handed it to her and said, “So you’re in Manhattan on your own?  Where are you from?”

“I’m up from South Carolina.  Have you ever been there?”

“Hmm . . . let’s see.”  I studied the wine swirl around the glass.

“I’ll be disappointed to find out you’ve been there and I missed seeing you in concert,” she said.

“I’ve been to Charlotte,” I said.

Cait shook her head.  “Charlotte’s in North Carolina.  We have Charleston.”

“Ah, yes.  Charleston.  No, I don’t believe I’ve ever been there, but I could be wrong.  There are a few decades that remain fairly fuzzy.”

Cait laughed.  “I know what you mean.”

 We sipped our wine knowing we shared a few cultural things in common, at least.

“Do you live in the city?” Cait asked.

“No-o-o.  No,” I said.  “I’m working with Taylor Grande on a new record and we’re playing the odd live gig here and there, testing out the new material on live audiences.  We’ll be based in Manhattan a few weeks longer laying down the tracks.  Are you here for your job?”

Cait’s smile faltered, returned briefly, then she studied her wine.  “No,” she said.  “I’m here trying to settle my late-husband’s estate.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.  How long has it been?  If you don’t mind me asking.”

She swallowed thickly as tears rose to her eyes.  “It’s okay.  It’s been sixteen months.  I . . . I miss him.  My Jesse.”

I reached across the table and laid my hand lightly on hers which caused her to look up quickly in surprise, but she didn’t take it back.  “How long were you together?”

“Just shy of thirty years.”

“It was a good marriage,” I said as I removed my hand from hers.

Cait wiped her eyes and returned the smile, but paused further before answering.

“We had our ups and downs, like any marriage, but it was.  We made each other laugh.  That’s so important.  Are you married?”  She glanced quickly at my left hand.

“Not now.  I was.  Once.  A very long time ago.  We were young, I was a musician on the road.  It didn’t last.”

“Do you have children?”

I thought of Oliver, but answered, “Thankfully no.  How about you?”

“No.  We wanted kids but it just never happened.  We put our energies into rescued dogs instead.  Kids are fun, but it’s good to be able to send them home.”

I joined her in a laugh.

“So, what have you seen of the city while you’ve been here?”

“Not much.  The cab ride to the lawyer’s office and back, and this hotel. I’m not very adventurous on my own, I’m afraid.  I bet you know New York inside-out.”

“I know enough of it to have fun and still stay out of trouble,” I said with a chuckle.  “Look, it’s still early.  Would you like to go out?  To a club or perhaps a museum?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said,  “I really wouldn’t want to impose.”

“How about this,” I offered.  “How about we go out for a walk and just look around?  There’s plenty to see within a few blocks of here.”

“Really?  You wouldn’t mind?”

“Honestly, my plans for this evening were very similar to yours.  Eat dinner and return to my room.  I’ll pick up the guitar for a couple of hours and go to sleep.  My hard-partying days are well behind me.”  I chuckled.  “Well, mostly.”

Cait shrugged one shoulder, her bright smile directed at me.  “Okay.”