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Good to hear from you. Are you kidding? Of course I remember you! You were the first woman I ever truly loved, how could I ever forget you? How are you?
Jason xx
Catherine gasped and read the words over and over in her head.He remembers me?Slowly, she smiled.
Downing the remaining wine in her glass in one go,for courage, she told herself, she sent off a reply:
To: Jason Oliver
From: Catherine Richardson
Date: 8 January 2020 8.54 p.m.
Subject: Re: Hello!
I’m thrilled that you remember me! I’m good. Actually that’s rubbish. I’ve just come out of the other side of a nasty divorce and I’m a mess. Every day, I was told I was crazy, sworn at, and told that I suck. It takes a while to come back from that. But as this is just an innocent, friendly email, you don’t need to know any of that. Instead, tell me about you.
C.
As soon as she sent it, she wished she could take it back. This was a mistake, all of it. Contacting him in the first place, replying, and most of all, telling him about her divorce. Why would he care about that? A lot had happened in fourteen years. Both for her and, she assumed, for him. Aside from what she already knew about his representing New Zealand at the Olympics twice already, she assumed he was married and probably had a family. At the very least, he would have moved a long way on from her.
You’re an idiot, Catherine, she told herself.Why are you opening yourself up to rejection and heartbreak yet again?
She refilled her wineglass, dug her spoon back into the tub of ice cream, and turned her attention back to the telly. “Australia!” she answered the question before the presenter had even finished reading it out and sat there staring at the screen, waiting impatiently for the contestant to figure it out. “Australia, you idiot!” she told the contestant, as though the woman on the screen could actually hear her. “The answer is Australia!”
Look how far you’ve fallen, she thought.You’ve gone from owning one of the most popular bars in Christchurch to yelling at the telly.
Finally the contestant answered the question correctly and Catherine raised the nasty chardonnay high. “Cheers,” she toasted the contestant, taking another long swallow. It didn’t taste as bad now that she had a bit more alcohol running through her veins, or maybe it was the ice cream that was disguising the taste. Whatever it was, the wine was easier to drink now, and went down easily when she tilted her head back and sculled the remainder of the glass.
Her phone dinged again and she reached for it, a little bit excited, a little bit nervous. It was Jason; it had to be.
To: Catherine Richardson
From: Jason Oliver
Date: 8 January 2020 9.03 p.m.
Subject: Re: Hello!
Hi, Catherine,
Thrilled is an overstatement, I’m sure. I could never forget you. How could I? I was crazy about you! I wish I could turn back the clock—I would never have let you go.
At our ages, I don’t think either of us can claim to be innocent ;)
I wish I could say I’m sorry to hear about your divorce, but I’m not. Nobody deserves to be spoken to like that, and I’m very happy that you’re single.
Just so you know, women who suck are worth their weight in gold. :p
Jason xx
She smiled, giggling a bit at the cheekiness of his words. “You haven’t changed, have you, Jase? Still the flirt,” she announced to her ice cream. “And I’m perfectly innocent, thank you!” She put her spoon down and held her phone tighter, reading his words over and over again, allowing them to cheer her up and fight through the fog that constantly surrounded her. Her smile widened. Basic flirting was doing for her what copious amounts of ice cream and cheap wine had failed to do: made her feel like a woman again. Even better, a potentially desirable one.
Another email came through.
To: Catherine Richardson
From: Jason Oliver
