Page 36 of Solo

We just look at each other for what feels like a long time until, finally, he speaks again.

“Katherine, Casey didn’t leave me. She died.”

And just like that, I feel the air get sucked right out of the room.

Chapter Sixteen

Drew

Is it really possible that Casey’s been gone so long that people don’t know? Don’t know her, or what happened? Christ, it was all over the news in the beginning. But I can see clearly that Katherine had no clue. I suppose just because I couldn’t get away from it doesn’t mean other people couldn’t.

“Tell me about her,” she says from next to me.

It’s the first time anyone has asked me to do that. I have to think for a second.

“Uh, well, her name is—was Cassandra. Casey, we called her. We met as graduate music majors in New York. She was a pianist. And she was just this kind and gentle soul. It’s like her heart was bigger than other people’s. She cared about everyone. Worried about everyone. And she looked…a lot like you. But she was very different.”

“Not a bitch then?” she says with the hint of a grin in her voice.

“I never said you were a bitch,” I object.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to,” she concedes so quietly that I’m not even sure I was meant to hear.

“Difficult. You can be difficult, Katherine. But that’s not what I meant anyway. She wasn’t strong like you are. She was delicate. Fragile, really.”

“How so?”

“Well, when I say she worried about everyone, I mean everyone. She was empathetic to the point of being overwhelmed by other people’s problems. She worried about global things like world peace. She worried about local things, like her teacher’s brother’s daughter’s cancer. And then she struggled with depression—maybe because of all that empathy, but then again, maybe not. It’s hard to say. The crazy thing is that she had so much. She was a gifted pianist. Her family adored her. I adored her. This profound, constant sense of worrying—it was just part of who she was, you know?”

I sense her nodding next to me but she doesn’t comment, just keeps listening with the utmost attention to every word. It feels good, having someone hear me for a change. No greeting card platitudes or awkward glances. Just an ear. It gives me the courage to share more than I’ve shared in a very long time.

“Anyway, I was in love with her. So, so in love with her. We got engaged and then we found out she was pregnant.”

Katherine takes a sharp breath from next to me. But still, she doesn’t comment, so I continue.

“We were over-the-moon happy. She wanted to come back here to North Carolina—this is where she grew up—so she could be closer to her mother. And I could work wherever. We had a little money between us, and her parents helped us out, too, so we bought this house. We planned a wedding for after the baby was born. It was a wonderful time, we were really happy,” I say, hearing the wistfulness in my voice.

“What happened? To the baby, I mean,” she asks when I’ve been silent for a long while.

I sigh heavily. No one ever asks about him, either.

“She lost him. We lost him.”

She gasps and I feel her eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look. I don’t want to see the pity that I’m sure must be there, waiting for me.

“They don’t even know why, really. It was just one of those things. Apparently it’s not uncommon to lose a pregnancy in the first trimester. But for us, well, it was just so devastating. All of our plans for the future were wrapped up in that baby.”

When I hear a sniff, I can’t help myself, I cast a quick glance at the woman next to me. She’s swiping at the tears that are threatening to spill onto her cheeks. I’m shocked. Not by the tears, but by the sentiment. It’s not pity in her face. What is it? Sympathy? No, more like sadness, I think. Pure, utter, profound sadness for a couple who lost their child. A couple she never knew. I turn away from the raw force of her emotion. When I finally speak again, my tone is more composed.

“Yeah, so, there was no coming back from that. Not for her, anyway. I was heartbroken, but I thought maybe, someday, we’d try again. But Casey, well, she wasn’t strong enough to weather that particular blow. Her parents and I tried so hard, but Casey knew. She knew what we were doing and she played along, pretending to be okay so we would relax a little. So that we wouldn’t be watching her so closely. And then, one day…she was gone.”

“What?” Katherine breathes next to me and then catches herself. She puts a small hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to tell me…”

I shake my head and give her a pained smile. “No, it’s okay, I understand. Um, well, she drove up to Andersonville Township and hiked up to Pikes Peak. She loved it there, especially in the fall when the leaves were red and yellow and orange for as far as the eye can see. At some point, she climbed over the guardrail and she just…let go. She didn’t even jump, really. She just let go of her life.”

There is nothing. Not a single breath between us. It’s as if time has stopped and we’re suspended in this cloud of my memories. At last, she is the one to break the spell and send us plummeting back to terra firma.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make it any better, does it?”