Meet Cate (17 page)

Cate awoke the next morning rested and full of a beautiful freedom. The day felt delicious; it felt like the first glorious day of summer with no school and nothing to do. She stretched deliciously, her arms reaching toward the tall ceiling in her sunlit bedroom. Exaggerating a long yawn, Cate delighted herself with the noise.

Pushing back the pile of covers, Cate danced to the kitchen, wanting a hot mug of coffee to begin her day. While she waited for it to brew, Cate mixed fresh cream, adding vanilla and a splash of peppermint to homemade condensed milk. Taking a very small pan from the rack, Cate heated a batch, then poured a long dribble into her cup. She efficiently tidied up her mess, the smell of the hot coffee mingling in the air with the brisk scent of peppermint. Holding the warm mug between two hands, sipping as she walked, Cate's bare feet tapped noiselessly through the house.

Cate headed right, toward her office. She should have known Millie had been here. The house smelled like fresh lemon and everything shone. In her office, with the sun coming up, Cate surveyed the room. On her desk sat mail, waiting to be taken care of. Cate noted it for Mary or her own new assistant's first duties. Looking beyond her neat piles, Cate surveyed the light coming through the wide window from the inviting sun room straight ahead of her. Moving toward it, Cate opened the door and gracefully stepped through. It was the perfect place to sit with her coffee but Cate found she had energy to burn. She stood at the window, looking out over the hill her home perched on, thinking of so many things.

She felt content. She felt at ease and peaceful. More than that, Cate felt powerful. Sipping steaming coffee, she watched the sun's rays embrace the landscape. She pictured the sun smiling, content in its work.

Turning, she retraced her steps to the kitchen slowly, looking over her house with fresh eyes. Cate remembered the day she'd walked through for the first precious time.

Her children in tow, the builder had led her to each beautifully decorated room, then stood back. As if she were on a television show, Cate's hands had flown to her face and she'd stared, speechless. Her eyes had filled with tears. Her children, one on each arm, had exclaimed politely and sincerely in her place, but all eyes were on Cate.

When they'd reached the kitchen, Jon, the builder, had said, "The kitchen is your base of operations−" He'd spoken casually, trying to decide if her quiet was a good thing. Cate had only stared, running her hands over the granite island, taking in the shiny double wall ovens, the huge cooktop. He'd finished, "−for a chef of your caliber."

The custom cabinets that reached almost balcony level had caught her eye, and she'd let out a small, "Oh!" She was taking the rugged man's words in. No one had ever spoken of her that way and Cate was feeling understood. More than that, she couldn't believe she lived
here
. It felt like a beautiful dream.

Jon's contagious grin was hard to hide.

When they'd viewed most of the first floor, the group had stood before Cate's master suite's double doors. Jon had motioned for her to go in alone. Cate had toured the elegant room. She had peeked through the huge closet into the en suite. Everything had glistened, being new and gorgeous. It was exactly like she'd imagined it, only this time it was real. This divine time it was hers.

"Cate?" Jon had joined her in the doorway, as Alex and Nic looked everywhere at once, taking in each sleek surface. A wide mirror sat over two sinks, across from a sleek jetted tub, under a garden window. Recessed lighting softly showcased the room, allowing for a gentle experience. The shower was built into tile walls, providing privacy as she'd asked. The walls were a light silver, looking noble and luxurious in the sunlight that slid through expensive wooden blinds.

"You−you−" Finally finding words, Cate had cleared her throat, one hand sliding down to cover her neck as if to comfort her voice into cooperating. "You hire someone, you pay them. But you can't−you just can't express how much it means when you're standing in it."

Jon looked down then, proud. He'd worked ambitiously with Cate; Steele, his architect; and Donna, his decorator; to bring Cate's ideas to life. She'd been very specific, showing him plans she'd drawn herself, itemized down to the last outlet, including designing her own closet.

When Jon had offered suggestions, Cate had listened carefully and often said, "I trust you."

She had agreeably picked her favorites out of the expensive tile and floor samples he had showed her and the fabrics and colors Donna wanted her to see. Cate felt she had learned enough about Jon and Steele, and even Donna, to know that the final outcome would be better than even her dreams. She had worked as hard as she could on the reno, taking any job offered, learning incredible tasks she'd never use again. She'd ripped up floors, knocked out walls, tiled and painted. She'd helped build the porch and re-build the main staircase. She'd prayed for the roofers and listened to sound advice about every segment of home building, adding her okay as needed. Cate had begun to love the smell of sawdust each morning. She'd found herself adoring the sound of the circular saw as it pulled through wood, fighting with the rapid click of nail guns. The buzz of a drill, the fainter noise of the crew talking and rock blasting.

Cate had watched the framing go in, taking photos late at night, after Jon's crew had gone home. When at last the appliances were going in, and the house was beginning to show its personality, Donna had arrived in her Cadillac. Following her had been a furniture truck and a box truck filled with luscious linens, farm-style ladder-back dining room chairs, colorful throw rugs, wooden table lamps and silver floor lamps. Donna had cleaned out her warehouse for Cate, immediately understanding Cate's style and delighted to work with the easy-going woman. Cate, herself, had been surprised how effortless the reno felt and how comfortable Donna made her feel. Cate had completely allowed Jon, Steele and Donna to run the show, grateful to be a part of the team and aware they held the expertise.

She wished she'd paid them after she'd seen the work. Cate would have doubled the amount and still not felt it was enough.

When Merry barked, she jolted Cate back to reality, sloshing coffee on the bathroom floor, remembering. Cleaning the spill up with a paper towel she found under the sink, Cate turned toward her closet. Pulling a bright pink knee-length sheath from the hangar, she tugged it over her head. Adding statement jewelry in sparkly silver, Cate stepped into heels of a matching shade. Moving to the over-sized mirror in her bedroom, leaning against the wall in a gilded frame, she tossed her hair, checked her lipstick, and content, stepped to the door.

Returning her coffee mug to the kitchen, she rinsed it and placed the cup in the dishwasher. On the kitchen table, surrounded by early morning light, stood a beautiful, vast display of flowers, all pinks, purples and reds. Thinking she'd really have to tell Millie, again, how wonderful she was, Cate saw a small florist's note sticking up out of the arrangement.

Crossing the room, her heels clicking in staccato, she grabbed for the note. Stowing the envelope in her pocket, Cate noticed Mike's small, scrawled handwriting.

"Shoot the moon," she read. "Mike."

Cate took her good mood to the city, smiling at everyone she passed. On the train, ladies elbowed other ladies and sometimes men, noticing Cate's effervescence and writing it off as love.

Cate wasn't in love. She was centered, balanced and grounded. She was free.

And she planned to take it out on her tremendous audience, Cate decided, as she lifted her face to the first few flurries of the year. Wanting desperately to stick her tongue out, as she and Al and Nic used to do, Cate pushed forward, toward the busy studio.

Inside the heavy glass door, she greeted Ralph warmly, "See the snow?"

Ralph smiled at the vision in front of him. Cate's hair, as well as the shoulders of her bright pink wool coat, was sprinkled with snow flakes. Her enthusiasm, as usual, was palpable. "Yes, I do." His eyes twinkled.

"How's the baby?" Cate asked now.

"She's great." His eyes filmed up at the thought. "Want to see a picture?" Without waiting to hear, Ralph fired up his phone, swiping a thick finger until he found what he wanted. He extended it to Cate, who closed in.

"Ohh! She's precious," Cate exclaimed.

"Yeah." Ralph was lost in the photo. "She's such a good girl."

Cate's eyes smiled at Ralph, fully remembering her first experience falling in love with her own child. "Cammy's doing well?"

"Yes." All business again, Ralph remembered his duty. "She said to say thank you for the beautiful cradle. We love it. Annie naps in it−when we're not holding her."

"Use it in good health," Cate told Ralph, patting him on the shoulder. He had the air of a much older man and that comforted her. "Please give your girls my love."

Nodding, Ralph's attention turned back toward the door as others began to file through. Cate always arrived mid-morning, so as not to get caught up in the crowds that came to her tapings and the others taping nearby. She enjoyed the quiet of the building before the audience filed in, with only her faithful crew on the set. There was always laughter from the test kitchen and buzzing throughout the busy hallways even as Cate kept to herself.

On today's show, she'd planned to talk about the upcoming holidays, reminding her viewers to take exceptionally good care of themselves during the busy season when welcome visitors were bound to be plenty. Cate wanted to talk about one of her favorite meals and she was excited.

Melissa was in her office and called out as Cate walked past.

"Yes?" Cate backed up.

"Mary's ready for her playdate," Melissa teased.

Cate walked into the room and plunked down in the comfortable plush chair that sat across from Melissa's desk. She crossed her legs neatly. "What shall I do with her?"

"Talk to her about what you need done." Melissa was typing, speaking around the pencil in her mouth.

"What do I need done?"

"Mm, I don't know, Catie. Files organized? Blog updates? How's your media packet?"

Cate changed the subject. "I have to ask you about what to expect salary-wise before I begin interviewing for my own."

Melissa looked up for a minute, happiness lighting her face. She took the pencil from her mouth, rotating it in a circle on her desk with two fingers as she spoke. "I'm so glad! That makes me so happy."

"Salary is−"

"You won't care."

"I already pay a few."

"So do I," Melissa said dryly.

"You're producing a show," Cate replied, comfortable with her friend. "I'm producing−me."

"Who do you pay for?"

Cate ticked off her fingers, "Gardner, snow removal−"

"Those are homeowner bills," Melissa smiled. "Everyone has those."

"Accountant, masseuse−" Cate smirked.

"Yes? What else do you have?"

"Personal trainer, stylist−" Cate thought, her brow furrowed, her smile crinkled. She stared at the plush off-white carpet, as if she could see the answers written there in a beautiful script.

Melissa studied her friend, liking how much lighter she seemed.

"Millie!" Cate said, delighted with her brain.

"You pay Millie enough for a team of cleaners."

"She does the work of a team," Cate replied. "When Cal visited, she filled the house with flowers."

"Oh?"

"All different kinds. She found roses."

"She's good." Melissa was back to her computer, the pencil finding a home in her mouth again.

"This morning, in fact, there were more flowers," Cate said quietly.

"Oh?" Melissa looked up, hearing a wistful tone in Cate's words.

"A beautiful huge arrangement."

"Tom?"

"Mike."

"
O
hh−"

"The card said
shoot the moon
."

"What does that mean?"

"It's something he told me the other day. He means to go for it, live life."

"It's sound advice."

"Yes." Cate was in another world.

Melissa shook her head, "You and your men." She laughed and flipped her wrist delicately, checking her watch out of habit. "You've got a show. Go shoot your moon on stage. Mary will be in your office after you tape."

"Here's your hat.." Cate stood, grumbling playfully.

"Have a good show."

"I always do."

"Cate−"

"Yes?" Cate, at the door, turned.

"I'm so glad you're back."

Cate blew Melissa a quick kiss, her heart light. "Thanks. Me, too."

On set, Cate was breezing through instructions regarding easy dinner plans for a surprise houseful or a quiet, hopefully peaceful, pre-holiday evening. She had a tall pot of chowder simmering, with lobsters and corn on the cob ready to be popped on. For now they stood by, looking delicious and festive, if unexpected, for the season.

"I realize it seems like an expensive dinner; it's not. Lobsters are sometimes on sale or you can often buy them the next day for less. Ask at your local fish market. The only other problem is that some folks don't care for the smell of seafood, or are allergic, so ask your guests before you start cooking."

Cate chopped large cloves of garlic as she talked. As she finished that task, she spoke again. "Mussels are another treat that are so easy to prepare. A pound is usually less than five dollars at your local market. Scrub them in the sink, then steam them, covered, over boiling water."

She poured a pound into a shiny double boiler, the top half a quirky, old-fashioned cooking colander. "Only for a few minutes, though−usually three to five. Maybe a few more. When they open, they're ready. Eat them while they're hot."

The trick to feeding a group is offering many different textures, flavors and courses. Your guests will feel fuller faster and be happily satisfied. You'll be better able to afford dinner and feel like a wonderful hostess. Because you are!"

Cate stopped to take a breath, moving to the stainless steel refrigerator, "To prepare a delicious dipping sauce for your lobster, melt about one tablespoon of butter per person. You can also drip it over your corn." Closing the fridge, she returned to the cooktop. "For a delicious boost to your mussels, add garlic to the same pan and let it sauté over low, low heat. You can allow the butter to brown or you can take it off and serve it immediately, when it's golden."

Cate peeled a fat mussel from its shell with her fingers, dipping it into the warm butter and delicately eating it.

"Perfect." Content, Cate smiled at the camera. "Later this week, I'll show you how to make an easy red sauce for unexpected company. On Tuesday's show, we'll make some snacks you can prep ahead when you have a houseful−homemade puddings, rhubarb muffins and oatmeal or granola. We'll have an organizing expert here to talk about how to fit a lot of friends under one roof during this busy season."

Cate paused, dipping a clean table spoon into the chowder and tasting, "Wednesday, we're baking bread. It will make your home smell delicious and you won't believe how easy it is. No bread maker required! It's only flour and salt, yeast, warm water and sugar. We'll add oats and nuts and all kinds of healthy and yummy treats. Deni Houston will be here to inspire us with a simple workout. Delicious! Tune in then. You're going to love it!"

When the signal came, Cate's smile relaxed. Another show dropped. She was diligently heading into another busy holiday season and Cate was ready. In fact, she was pumped.