Falling (Fading Series) (63 page)

Mark has taken a keen liking to Bailey over the past couple of days, which Tori has appreciated since he pretty much has taken Bailey off of her hands, giving her a much-needed break. She and Candace spent a couple of hours yesterday shopping at The Landing while the rest of us played outside with the kids on the beach. This time of year the weather is nice, so we take advantage and ditch the indoors.

On the Fourth, we take the kids down to the local parade in the morning and then over to Seaside later that night, for fireworks. We’ve had a good visit, and it was needed in more ways than one.

When I wake up the next morning, Candace isn’t in bed with me, so I slip my pajama pants over my boxers and head downstairs to find her. The house is quiet with everyone still asleep, and when I walk through the living room, I look out the windows to see Candace sitting alone, down by the water.

Walking out, she has the binoculars up to her eyes, and when I get close, I ask, “What are you doing out here?”

She looks back at me when she says, “Watching the puffins.”

I sit down in the sand next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, teasing, “You want me to swim out there and get you one?”

“Mark may get jealous,” she says with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. You’re probably right.”

She sets down the binoculars and lays her head on my shoulder, saying, “I love coming out here.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” she says, waiting a beat before continuing, “I feel like I’m part of a family. I never felt that way with mine, but I feel it with yours.”

“Have you ever talked to your parents? Did they come to your graduation or anything?” I ask.

“No.”

Not wanting to dampen this moment, I lift her chin up to me and tell her, “I love having you here. The first time I brought you here, last year at Christmas, I watched you in the kitchen with my mom, and I knew I wanted to bring you back. I had been chasing you for so long, nervous that I would scare you away if I told you how I was feeling, but bringing you home with me, I knew I had to make you mine.”

She smiles, saying, “You never seemed nervous around me. I always thought you were so sure of yourself.”

“There wasn’t a second that I felt sure of myself with you. You’re the hardest person I have ever tried to read.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. There isn’t a single thing about you that I would change. I love every piece of you.”

The leaves litter the streets as I drive home in the rain. I’ve been on a job all afternoon after I was commissioned to photograph a model for a portfolio. The photography thing has really picked up for me, and I’ve been trying to get a few more of my newer pieces on display at a couple of galleries. The exposure has been great, and Candace is nothing but supportive, coming along with me to showings when she can.

She’s been so busy with rehearsals lately for her first performance run that will start in a few days. The transition into the company has been a challenge for her. Most of the girls up there have been there for years, skipping the college route to go straight into their dancing career. Candace told me that it’s not very common to go from a university to a company, but she did it mostly to appease her parents. It’s been very competitive and some of the dancers haven’t welcomed her into the program very easily, giving her a hard time at first, but my girl is determined and always keeps herself focused when she’s dancing. It isn’t until she comes home to me that she finally lets out her frustrations.

We’ve made a routine of having Jase and Mark over every Thursday night so that Jase and Candace can watch the new episodes of ‘Ridiculousness.’ I just have to laugh at the two of them and their taste for trash TV, but she redeems herself each time we camp out downstairs by the fireplace to watch our black and whites.

Candace is already home when I pull into the drive, and when I walk up the stairs to the front door, I spot one of my bowls sitting on the ground. Picking it up, I go inside and set it in the sink then head upstairs. I stop in my tracks the moment I catch sight of her. She’s securing felted green leaves around the bun on top of her head, wearing a puffy red strawberry costume with green tights.

“Baby, what’s this?” I question with a smirk while I enjoy the view.

Taking out the hairpin from between her teeth and sticking it in her hair, she stands proudly on display for me, saying, “My Halloween costume!”

She’s fuckin’ cute, and I smile as I step towards her and ask, “Where did you get this?”

“Marilyn, the seamstress at the studio. She made it for me.”

“I didn’t know we were dressing up.”

She looks down at her costume, running her hands down the fluffy red fabric and says, “I never do anything for Halloween, so I figured since we’re gonna be with the kids, I wanted to dress up.”

Wrapping my arms around the pillowy costume, I pull her close to me and kiss her. I love seeing her playful and happy like this. We decided to go to Astoria to take Tori and my other cousin, Jenna’s, kids trick-or-treating next week. I felt bad that I didn’t go last year, so I’m making it a point this year, and Candace is excited to tag along and see everyone. My whole family has embraced Candace, and hearing Bailey call her Aunt Ce-Ce every time we video chat means the world to her.

“So you like it?” she questions when she breaks our kiss.

“It’s adorable, babe.”

I kiss her dimple before she says, “I’m gonna go take it off. I just wanted to put it all on to see how it looks. Give me a few minutes.”

My eyes follow her green legs as she walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. Even after all this time, she’s still modest with me, always shutting herself away to change and get ready. It used to bother me, but now it’s just another thing I love about her. So I sit on the bed and wait for her to reappear, looking more sophisticated in a pair of black pants and a fitted sweater, hair still in a bun.

“You wanna go grab a coffee before our appointment?” I ask.

“Yeah. Can we go to Common Grounds? I haven’t seen Roxy in a while, and I’d like to stop in and say hi.”

“Of course,” I respond as I tug her onto the bed and pull her between my legs before kissing her. “Oh, hey,” I say when I pull back. “Why was there a bowl by the front door?”

“I put some food out for this cat I keep seeing.”

“Babe, if you do that, we’re gonna have a shitload of stray cats hanging around outside.”

“She looked sad. I just couldn’t let her starve,” she defends. “She doesn’t have tags or anything, and it’s cold and rainy outside. The least I could do was leave out some food.”

I laugh at her, but love her soft heart, so I don’t say anything else about it.

Kissing the top of her head, I tell her, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

After we stop by and visit with Roxy for a while, we head over to Dr. Christman’s office for our appointment. We’ve continued to see her twice a month, and Candace has still been keeping her weekly appointments on top of what we do together. She’s been working hard and talking more to me about the rape and how she’s trying to process it. She still blames herself, but I can’t get down on her for that because I still blame myself as well.

She did come off of her sleeping pill back in the beginning of September, but a couple weeks ago, she had another terrifying nightmare and immediately started taking her pills again even though Dr. Christman wanted her to continue on without them. I understand Candace’s fear of her dreams. That nightmare freaked her out, and she wound up making herself sick, vomiting several times afterwards.

After seeing Jack at the bar, she was scared to come back there. I wound up telling her about the subpoena and going to see him. She was having a hard time believing that he was really dead, so I found out where he was buried and took her to show her that she didn’t have to be scared of him anymore—but she still is.

Candace has been busy ever since we got back in town from spending Halloween in Astoria with my cousins a couple weeks ago. It was a short trip, but Candace had fun with the kids, and I had fun watching my strawberry go door to door with Bailey, helping her fill her bag with candy. Candace even got some candy herself at a few houses that just assumed she was a kid. We all teased her about her size, and she took it like a champ, but she’s used to it from Mark. The two of them banter like brother and sister, and I’m starting to see that same connection building with her, Tori, and Trevor.

This past week has been crazy while Candace has been having costume fittings and dress rehearsals. But tonight is her first performance, and seeing her meddle around the loft, trying to keep her nerves in check, I think back to the last time—the only time—I saw her dance. I was alone, miserable, fearing I’d lost her for good. I watched her dance for the first time while I was hiding in the back of the theater, wishing I could have been with her, and now I am. This is the way it should have been the day of her performance in college, but I’m getting my moment now. And savoring every minute of it.

We ran out of bananas this morning, so she sent me out to grab a few since she worries about muscle cramps. When I get back from the store, a tiny white and tan cat greets me. No doubt, Candace’s little buddy, waiting for her next meal. I walk past it and let myself in.

“Your friend’s out front,” I say as I walk through the room and into the kitchen to set the bag of bananas down.

“Who?” she asks from the couch.

“That cat you keep feeding all of our food to.”

“Ryan, she doesn’t have a home. She’s been hanging around for a couple of weeks,” she says as I walk over to her and sit down.

“We can take her to the pound.”

“Oh my God! You’re crazy!” she squeals at me. “We’re not doing that.”

Looking over at her, I already know what she wants to do, but I ask anyway, hoping she’ll surprise me.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

In the most timid way possible, she suggests, “We could keep her.”

“I’m not inviting a feral cat into my home.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “You act like I’m asking you to invite a vampire in.”

As I laugh at her analogy, she defends, “And stop calling her a
feral
cat like she’s some Dickensian orphan.”

“Why do I have a feeling like this cat is going to become part of our family?”