Life Reconstructed: Chapter Twenty-Nine

The only question that haunted her, sitting in her office that Thursday morning, her eyes staring absently at the report on her computer screen that she should have started on half an hour ago, was his initial, seemingly-instinctive reluctance at the onset of these projects. But then, once he’d start, he was completely enthralled; he’d all but itch to get back to the wood, to lose himself in the whirling clam of his machines, in the concept of creativity and design. The inconsistency between these two reactions was as startling as it was challenging.

“Like that picture frame,” she muttered to herself, remembering at instance earlier in the week when she’d surprised him working on the beautiful piece. “He’d said it was supposed be one, maybe, that was if he didn’t screw it up first.” Chewing on the end of her pen, Cat considered that perhaps he was just scared.

Scared he would fail; scared the reality of his passion wouldn’t live up to the idea in his mind. She supposed that was fair. The only thing worse than not chasing a dream was realizing that it didn’t hold up in the stark light of production.

“And then there’s his grandfather’s hardware store,” she muttered, remembering what Birdie had told her—that it wasn’t Matt’s dream, rather his familial obligation to run and operate the store.

“But Birdie would understand,” she mused, pushing her chair backward. “If he wanted to sell the place, she’d understand.” Getting up, she stalked the small space of her office, her hand brushing against the edge of her desk, the high back of the client chair facing it, her eyes bouncing off the pictures and books—

She wasn’t sure exactly that prompted her to do it. Certainly, she had work to get accomplished that day, but pushing all that to the back of her inbox, Cat returned once more to her desk, her steps determined, her fingers confident on the keyboard as she bent to the task of researching the how’s and where’s of starting a business.

She knew she was overstepping.

She knew it was absolutely none of her business.

She also knew that what Matt needed was a little push. It had sort of been the pattern of their experiences. Pushing a cooling cup of coffee to one side of her desk, she smiled as she read one legal document and then another, printing state guides, how-to articles by experienced bloggers, and even a few check-lists on government and municipal websites, so that by the time she left the office that evening, far later than usual, Cat’s arms were loaded down with information, graphics, a few doodles and ideas.

Smiling as she locked up, Cat knew where she had to go—the office supply store. Stopping in, she lost little time purchasing poster boards, card stock, a pack of printing paper and some markers and pens. Checking out, she felt her stomach clinch as the clerk bagged up her supplies. There was a bottle of wine waiting for her at home, and a pair of scissors. She’d undoubtedly need both.

 

 

 

“McBoy Hardware, how can I help you?”

“Matt?”

“Hey Cat.”

Licking her lips, Cat stared down at the black portfolio she held tightly in her grasp. It was a little after two in the afternoon on Friday and she should have been eyeballs deep in work—especially considering the amount she hadn’t done the day before. With a flick of her shoulder, she supposed it was bound to be another long day at the office.

Whatever. This was going to be worth it.

“What, eh, what are you doing tonight?” She hated the pitchy quality of her voice, the insecurity that oozed out despite her best efforts.

“Well, I was going to do a little more work on Amelia’s closet,” he said hesitantly.

Cat cringed. She didn’t want to look desperate, and she wasn’t! Really. This wasn’t a call for personal reasons. She had something to discuss with him.

“Mind if I stop over for a quick minute after work?”

“Uh, sure.”

Cat felt her throat dry up at the words, her excitement morphing as she glanced up at the overhead clock. “Okay. I should be there about seven.”

“Sounds good.”

She was as good as her word. The clock in her car had just ticked over to seven o’clock as she pulled into the back parking lot of McBoy’s Hardware Store. Crossing her fingers, she hoped that Birdie didn’t have plans in town that afternoon since her small sedan was now snuggly taking residence in that ladies’ designated spot. Hopping out, her arms crossed protectively around the binder, she marched up the rutted driveway and into the dimly-lit warehouse.

At the sound of the door opening, Matt lifted his head. Smiling in muted greeting, he set down a carving tool on the workbench beside him. Brushing his hands on his jeans, he stood up. “Hey Cat—what’s up?”

“Hi, hi,” she said, tripping over to him quickly. Without further preamble, she thrust out her hands, showing him the binder. “I, ah, I have something for you.”

Tilting his head a little to one side, his gaze took in the binder with some skepticism before lifting once more to her flushed features. “Yeah?”

“Here. Take a look.” Holding her breath, Cat watched as Matt slowly took possession of the binder, his eyes lowering to it as he flipped open the first page. Frowning, he turned over another page.

Unable to take her eyes off of him, Cat waited for his expression to clear, waited for understanding to dawn. When it finally did, she had to admit, it didn’t look the way she’d imagined.

“What the hell is this?” Matt finally asked, snapping the binder closed. His brown eyes shot up to her face, catching her smile and devouring it.

“It’s, it’s a business plan,” Cat stuttered, her fingers pointing to the condemned thing in his hand. Grabbing for it, she re-opened the first page. “Now, obviously I don’t know much about this industry—”

“Obviously.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Cat sailed ahead. “And this is only a mock-up example, but I threw together a quick business proposal. Oh, and here,” she said, flicking over a couple of pages. “These are some of the worksheets you’d need to fill out to get yourself incorporated, if you wanted… plus I added a directory for locating any licenses or permits…” A little breathless now, she lifted her head only to see an angry slash of color rising in his cheeks.

Dropping her eyes frantically, her movements more out of desperation than demonstration, her fingers turned to another page. “And here—well, I looked up some information on creating a website. It all looks really easy. And this, well, this was just silliness really,” she said weakly, pointing to the graphic logo she’d created, along with some company taglines. “You’d probably want to do this yourself, but…but…”

“But what, Cat?” He asked quietly. His arms were crossed over his chest, his brown eyes narrowed into slits.

“Well,” shrugging her shoulders, Cat wasn’t sure what to say. Anxious tears stung the back of her eyes as she chanced another glance at Matt’s shuttered expression. This was not how she’d planned this would go. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, really, but… Her throat burned. “I wanted to show you how easy it would be to…”

“To what? To start a business?” Matt barked with laughter, his arms spanning out wide. “Yeah, I’m well aware of what it takes to start a business.”

“But you didn’t start this business.”

Too late, Cat realized she’d made a mistake. Another mistake.

Matt’s eyes widened and then narrowed again. His lips compressed so tightly that a thin white line appeared around the edges. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying…”

“And you think that the hard work is only involved in the beginning? That taxes and renewals and licensing—that those are one-shot deals?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation,” Matt growled. “I already have a business, Cat. I’m not in the market for another one.”

“No, I know.”

“Do you?”

“But you don’t love this place,” Cat said, her own arms sweeping wide to mirror Matt’s earlier movement. “Not the way you love woodworking.”

“Woodworking is a hobby, Cat. For Christ’s sake.”

“But it doesn’t have to be,” she returned, her voice almost pleading now. Her eyes skipped over to the piece he’d been working on when she arrived. “You love doing this. I know you do.”

Matt ran an irritated hand through his hair. “That doesn’t mean—”

“And you’re brilliant at it. I think so, Amelia certainly thinks so. I could barely get her off the phone she was so pleased with the wardrobe.”

“If I wanted to make this a business, I would have done so.”

“I don’t think so.” Pulling her shoulders back, Cat waited for the explosion. She knew she was probably going too far, saying things she had no business saying, and yet…

“Excuse me?”

“You’re so afraid of failing. Of failing Birdie by selling this place, afraid of starting a business only to lose it, afraid of not being good enough. You’re terrified that it won’t work, but if you never start, well…that’s safe then.”

Matt’s jaw clenched at the words.

“That’s why you made such a fuss over fixing my door and, and working on Amelia’s wardrobe,” Cat continued, her voice growing in volume. She’d already said too much, what was a little bit more? “At first I thought it was because it was an inconvenience to you. That you didn’t want to spend what little free time you had working out here, but that’s not it.”

“Christ.”

“It’s because you were afraid of how much you’d love it, how intoxicating it would be. I think you knew it would lead you here, wanting something desperately but too afraid to go after it. If no one knew, if you could just pretend that tinkering was enough, if no one could witness the energy and genius behind your work, then you could tuck it away, unseen and unrealized.”

“I’m too afraid?” Matt scoffed. “I am?”

Cat lifted her wobbling chin. Matt was looking at her in a way that determined the course of their future. “Yes, I think so.”

“I think you’ve got it backward, lady.” Taking a menacing step closer, Matt leered in her direction. “You’re so busy pushing your nose into others people’s lives, have you ever thought to ask why?”

“I don’t—”

Matt flapped a hand toward the binder she still held in one hand. “I mean, who the hell asked you to do that?”

“Certainly, you didn’t!”

“You’re damn right. And who’s idea was it to meddle in Amelia’s closet reconstruction?”

Cat felt her cheeks suck in. “But, you know why…”

“Do I?” Matt countered. “I used to think you were just dramatic, but now I think maybe you’re the one who’s running away.”

“What?”

“You accuse me of hiding behind the comfort of my grandfather’s business? Why did you make such a freaking ordeal out of that fixing damn door—why’d you stretch it out, fretting and fretting over nothing?”

“Really? This again?”

“Because,” Matt said, talking over her, “you needed the distraction. Just like now.”

“Oh?” Cat challenged, though a part of her recognized the truth in those words. At least, a little bit. “From what?”

“I don’t know,” Matt shouted. “Unlike you, I don’t think it’s any of my business to go poking into your life.”

Cat sucked her lips into her mouth at the attack. “That’s not fair. I was only trying to help.”

“No, you weren’t. If that were the case, you would have dropped this whole damn subject when you first brought it up to me.”

“I get it that you’re upset,” Cat said through stiff lips, “but I’m not sure your reaction is entirely appropriate.”

“That’s probably why you worked so hard to convince Amelia she needed a new closet,” Matt muttered. “Just another way to prove yourself right, right?”

“You make it sound diabolical,” Cat protested, the smallest of smiles edging out on her lips.

That was mistake number three.

“I’m done explaining myself to you,” Matt said, his voice clipped. Re-crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back on the heels of his boots.

“I’m sorry,” Cat said. “Please,” throwing up her arms, the book unintentionally waving in front of Matt’s face, she cringed. “I never meant to go behind your back.”

“There’s no other definition for the phrase,” Matt insisted. Snatching the book out of her hands, he tossed it on the floor.

“Matt, please, I—” Feeling her lips trembling, Cat’s eyes switched from his face to the binder and back again. There was something so final in the action, so accusatory. Before now, she’d hadn’t thought Matt possessed the emotional range to get this upset.

She’d been wrong.

She’d been wrong on so many counts.

Her shoulders shook a little. Three hours ago, she’d been brimming over with excitement, her eyes checking and double-checking her facts and researching, adding and eliminating pages at the last minute, her lips pulling into an irrepressible grin as she’d imagined Matt’s reaction.

She probably should have known it would go over a little like this.

But after all the work he’d done for Amelia—his undeniable excitement as he’d worked late into the evening, his conversation veering that way on more than one occasion on their evenings out.

Evenings that would come to an abrupt end after this.

She’d known she’d have to do a little cajoling, a little convincing to get him fully on board but she’d thought…laid out in those simply terms, she’d thought he’d find comfort in the neatly arranged information, that he’d find confidence in the breakdown of paperwork, the forms and fact he’d need to compile. She’d thought she’d finally used that overactive, overthinking brain to good use by locating everything he’d need and then organizing it an easy, step-by-step system.

It had been foolish. And not just because he’d thrown her offer back in her face. He’d also stopped looking at her.

“Look, I need to get back to Amelia’s project,” Matt said, cutting her off, his words nice but cool.

Cat sucked in a breath, her hand wiping against the bottom of her nose. “Please, please don’t be mad at me.”

With a flick of his eyes, Matt’s feelings went into eclipse. “It’s fine, Cat.” He gave her a level look. “Now you know.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Now I know.”

Tossing his head backward, he repeated himself, “I really should get back to it.”

“Yes, of course.” Swallowing back tears, Cat bent down to retrieve the binder. At Matt’s questioning scowl, she said: “I’ll just get rid of this for you.” Glancing up at him, she tried again. Despite his easy words just now, she could practically feel his anger. “It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

Matt held up a hand. “Stop. Leave it alone, Cat. Let’s just be done with the whole thing, okay?”

Cat felt her shoulders tensing. “The whole thing?”

Matt sighed. His eyes stared at her without expression. And suddenly, she was terrified of what he’d say next.

Holding up a hand, she pulled her lips up in a grotesque smile. “Okay.” Taking a step backward, the binder clutched to her chest protectively, her eyes traveled no higher than his broad shoulders. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Cat?”

“Yes?”

Matt’s chin jutted forward. “Throw that thing away, huh?”

“I’ll just do that very thing,” she whispered, her free hand already reaching behind her for the doorknob.

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