For Life (Reclaimed Hearts Book 1) (28 page)
Grady
Cassie shakes with fury as she reads aloud from the Dragon Lady’s e-mail.
“While you are to be commended for your fine work during your several months as acting director, the Board has come to the consensus that the foundation would be best led by someone with more extensive administrative experience and professional credentials. We hope you will continue to serve as the foundation’s assistant director for many years as you have been invaluable in the position thus far. We will announce the successful candidate at the next Executive Committee meeting on Tuesday evening. Please reply at your convenience to arrange a time to meet with me prior to the committee meeting.”
“That evil
bitch
!” she cries, thumping the bed with her tablet. I pry it gently from her hand and set it on the nightstand next to me.
“Babe, listen—”
She cuts me off. “The nerve of that woman! ‘Several months as acting director.’ Does she realize everything I did when Karen was first sick and using up all her vacation time? How I covered for her? How I brought in Jai, who has been a miracle worker…” Her eyes well with angry tears and I wrap my arm around her.
“She’s never been on your side, and you know that,” I remind her. “Jai told you that a long time ago.
“I know he did, and he was right,” she fumes. “But I wish she’d at least… I don’t know…” Leaning into my shoulder, she takes a deep, shuddering breath and exhales slowly.
“You have every right to be angry. You have every right to wish they’d recognize you more. And you have every right to send them your resignation, if that’s what you want to do. You don’t need this job. Go find something else, something that makes you happier.”
“I can’t just quit my job,” she declares.
“Sure you can. They don’t appreciate you, you hate the Dragon Lady, and they’re probably going to hire that guy you hate even more than you hate her.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Cassie sniffles. “I hate her a lot. He’s a douchebag, but he’s never done anything to me personally.”
“You don’t need to work for a douchebag. You’re a smart, capable woman. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
To my delight, I see the wheels turning. “But the mortgage…”
“I can pay both mortgages for a little while. You’ll find something soon enough. You don’t even need to work full-time if you don’t want to. I can support you. And I don’t even need to play any gigs to do it.”
She shoots a withering glance in my direction.
“Bad joke,” I concede. “But I’m serious. Please think about it. You don’t have to do this, Cass.”
“But what about Jai? I hired him. I groomed him. He was supposed to step into my position when I took the director’s position someday… That was our plan.”
Her loyalty to Jai is endearing and almost maternal. I know their working relationship means a lot to her, so I try to be delicate when I suggest, “Jai’s a grown man. He’ll make the decision that’s right for him, and he’d expect you to so the same. Don’t sacrifice yourself to save Jai. If it makes you feel better, talk to him about it. Tell him where you stand with everything. But make your own decision based on what’s best for you and our family, not for Jai.”
She turns to me and smiles gratefully. “Thank you. And you’re right. Everything you said is right. Let me sleep on it, and I’ll figure something out.”
“Can I take your mind off it?” I murmur into her hair.
“You can try,” she sasses me, and I tackle her to the mattress.
July 2001
Grady
“I like her a lot,” Cassie declares when we get in our car.
We just met my brother’s new girlfriend, Renée, and Cassie and I both took to her right away.
“She’s sassy. And soooo pretty,” she says wistfully. “I’d kill for that butt.”
“I didn’t notice her butt.” It’s a tiny lie, but my quick peek at Renée’s ass will be the first and last one I enjoy. “But you’re beautiful. Carl tells me all the time how lucky I am to have such a hot wife.”
She blushes and looks out her window, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “So, do you think it’s serious?”
“He’ll marry her,” I say with utter confidence, and Cassie whirls in her seat to look at me.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because I have never, ever seen my brother look at a woman that. He would give her anything in the world.”
“They’re gonna have really cute babies.” She’s almost gleeful, and it makes me laugh.
“Easy, tiger, they only just made it official.” Squeezing her knee, I let my fingertips linger on the soft skin of her inner thigh and wonder if I can convince my wife to drive to the beach with me tonight. I want to make love to her under the stars while we have a night without the kids.
“You’re the one talking about marriage,” she retorts. “I’m just talking about the follow-up.”
“Or maybe they’ll jump the gun, like we did.” I grin and she smacks my arm.
“Cass.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go to the beach tonight.”
“Grady,” she protests. “I feel bad, sticking your mom with the kids all night. What if Caden wakes up? We don’t even have toothbrushes or anything—”
I silence her with a kiss and then say, “I’ll call Mom now and ask. I’m sure she’s still up. If she says yes we can get some toothbrushes on the way.”
“I don’t know…” She looks doubtful, that furrow appearing between her eyebrows again. I’ve seen that crinkled forehead too many times lately, which is why we need a night away. Reconnecting would do us both some good.
I dial my mom’s number on my cell phone and with a few quick words, it’s all sorted out. “I told her we’d be back by noon, which gives us plenty of time.”
Cassie still looks troubled, but I tip her face up to mine and kiss her softly until she smiles against my mouth and agrees to go to the beach.
* * * *
“I would give you anything in the world, you know,” I tell her as we make our way down the dark highway. Our car windows are down and Cassie’s long hair whips around her face.
She folds her hand over mine, which has drifted halfway up her thigh, and tucks both between her legs. For a moment she’s silent, and then she speaks, her voice carried away a bit by the wind. “I know you would.” I give her leg a gentle squeeze, but she doesn’t look in my direction. Her eyes are fixed on some far-off point. For a moment I wonder if the beach was a stupid idea, but then she twists her long hair away from her face with her free hand and turns to me.
“It’s going to be okay, right?” she asks softly.
“Of course,” I answer automatically, even though I’m not exactly sure what she means. “Course it is.”
She nods and turns to look back out the window. “You just feel so far away sometimes.”
At her words a burning lump forms in my throat. “I feel that way, too,” I admit. “That’s why I wanted to get away. Be together, just us, for one night. Reconnect.”
“You mean have sex.” She rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, have sex, of course. But not just that. I want to hold you and talk to you without interruptions. I want to watch a movie all the way through and maybe go get some coffee and watch the sun rise.”
Her face softens. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Can we do that?”
“We can do whatever you want, baby.”
She’s thoughtful for a moment and then nods, satisfied. When she leans in to kiss my cheek, she lingers there, her breath on my ear. “I love you, Grady.”
“I love you, too. Always.”
Cassie
I take Grady’s advice and arrange to meet Jai for coffee. We choose a place on campus where we’re unlikely to be spotted by any of our board members, and we both remark at how old and out of place we feel. I wonder, not for the first time, how on earth Sandra brings herself to bed boys who look barely older than Chloe and Caden. Jai arrived earlier than I did and has snagged us a corner table with a bit of privacy.
“You look good,” I observe, kissing his cheek in greeting. Somewhere in the past month or so, Jai has become…lighter? Maybe that’s the word. He has a hell of a poker face when he wants to keep things secret, and whatever he’s hiding is obviously good for his soul. I decide I will let him keep it to himself a bit longer before I pry.
“As do you,” he replies graciously as I slide into the chair across from him. “Now please do me the honor of being honest with me. I did not come all the way out here to this place to shoot the shit, Cassie, lovely as you are.”
“I’m going to resign,” I tell him. It wasn’t what I planned to say, but as soon as the words escape my lips I’m certain that it’s the right decision.
“I thought you would tell me that,” he sighs, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I’m sorry. We had a whole different plan, I know, and I’m so sorry.”
He sets his drink down and wags his finger at me. “Don’t do that. Don’t be sorry.”
“But I am,” I argue. “We had a plan, Jai, and that plan would still be in place if it wasn’t for Madeline.”
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Until you get married and start having more babies.”
I swat him across the table. “Bite your tongue! I have two children, thank you very much, and that’s about as many as I need.”
Jai raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “So you are planning to get married? Or should I say remarried?”
And as easily as the truth slipped from my tongue before, it slips again in response to his question. “I think so, Jai. I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He pats my hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. And it makes it that much easier to tell you my news.”
“Oh? You have news, too?”
“I do.” He fiddles with his scarf for a moment before he confesses almost shyly, “Michael and I have been discussing the future, and—”
I interrupt him with a squeal. “Are
you
getting married? Is it happening?”
“Yes, and we’re moving to London in June,” he confirms, and the words are barely out of his mouth before a shriek of joy escapes me and I fling my arms around him, nearly knocking over both our coffees. There are tears in both our eyes when we end our embrace.
“What are you going to do there?”
“Michael has a job lined up with one of the banks, and—” Jai looks up, suddenly distracted, as a blond, muscle-bound young man with a beard approaches the table. “Speak of the devil,” he murmurs. “Well, hello handsome.”
Michael lays his massive hand on Jai’s slight shoulder and a tender look passes between them. “Cassie, this is my Michael. Michael, this is my boss, Cassie,” Jai explains, and Michael tears his gaze away to offer his handshake.
“So nice to meet you,” he says warmly.
I realize with great reluctance that I should head home and start drafting my transition memo. “I’ll leave you two to enjoy your morning. Jai, honey, I will see you at the office on Monday. Michael, it was wonderful to meet you.”
“Likewise, lovely.” Michael flashes a sweet smile, and after I hug Jai goodbye he claims me next, folding me into a bear hug that I fear will crack my ribs.
Excited about my decision, I head home to break the news to Grady.
* * * *
Chloe’s the one who raises the alarm about Caden.
I’m cleaning out my closet later that day when she comes into my room and plops down on my bed. It’s been so long since she came into my room just to chat that my first, cynical thought - God forgive me - is,
What does she want?
She’s silent for a moment, watching me make piles of clothes I never wear to take to the consignment shop. “I’m worried about Caden,” she announces finally.
I stuff my armful of clothes into a bag and turn to her, surprised. No one’s ever worried about Caden, because Caden is the best-behaved, most cheerful child on the planet.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with him?”
She picks at her nails for a moment and makes a number of faces before she looks at me again. “It’s not him exactly. It’s Ryan.”
Ryan Lewis has been Caden’s best friend since elementary school. The two met in second grade when Ryan moved into town and have been inseparable ever since. I can’t imagine what has Chloe worried about Ryan. He’s an honor student, a quiet and shy boy who often stays overnight at our house. Caden and Ryan are on the cross-country team together, and we frequently give him rides to meets since his mom is a single parent.
I frown and sit on the bed next to her. “What’s wrong with Ryan, honey?” A million things run through my mind and I just as quickly dismiss them. He’s failing out of school. He’s on drugs. He’s suicidal. None of those seem likely. We’d just had him at the house last month, and he’d been the same as ever.
She pauses as if trying to find the right words. “I’m not a hundred percent sure there’s actually something wrong. I just think there is, and I think Caden knows it and it’s bothering him.”
“How does Ryan seem to you?”
“That’s the other weird thing. I used to see Ryan all the time in school and we would talk or whatever. I don’t even see him anymore. Think about it. He used to spend the night here all the time, right? He hasn’t been here in
ages
.”
“He was just here in Nov—” But then I realize that isn’t right. Ryan wasn’t here last month. He hasn’t been here since before we went to Delaware for the funeral, which was in October.
“Yes,” Chloe says when she sees my confused expression. “Exactly. It’s weird. I know he and Caden are still talking, because I see them together sometimes, but he doesn’t seem happy. I think something is wrong.”
How could I have missed my son’s best friend no longer coming to the house? I realize that’s something I should’ve picked up on. Caden has mentioned him, but only in passing, which is also strange, but I confess I paid no attention to that until Chloe said something.
She looks like she has more to say, and I wait, but then her phone rings, and she leaves the room. I head back to my closet, determined to call Heidi Lewis just to check in. Or maybe it would be better to just ask Caden directly, I think.
But then I get caught up in the closet again, and soon it’s time to get dinner ready. Like the worst mother in the world, I forget all about my son’s best friend.
* * * *
Even though we’re going to be in Delaware for the entire Christmas break, Grady insists on getting a Christmas tree, so just three days before we’re set to leave for Donna’s, we drive to the Christmas tree farm to do something we’ve never done before - select and cut down our own tree.
Chloe is so happy she insists on playing the holiday station in the truck all the way there, and she and Caden sing along to every tune. When we arrive it’s snowing again - big, fluffy flakes - and we trudge through the woods in our bright parkas looking for the perfect tree. Such a difference from our usual routine of driving to the home improvement superstore, finding something overpriced and half-dead in the garden section, and then wrestling with it all the way home.
Instead, we select a beautiful, fluffy Douglas fir, and Grady shows Caden how to saw through the trunk and wrap the tree so it can be carried easily back through the woods. My son is delighted to have cut down our tree himself. Today he looks the spitting image of Grady at sixteen, right down to the way he walks and moves. It’s disconcerting and comforting all at once.
Back at home, I make us all hot chocolate to warm us up as we pick through the boxes I hauled out from the attic. We decorate with my substantial stash before Grady surprises me by breaking out his own box of decorations.
I’m completely unprepared for what he pulls from the plastic tote. There are many ornaments the kids made in school, some identical to the ones they brought home to me. Others are hand painted frames with photos of the kids at various ages. “Merry Christmas Daddy,” reads one made of Popsicle sticks. I recognize Chloe’s careful scrawl. She must have made it when she was about seven or eight.
Every handmade keepsake is a stab in the heart. Each one is a reminder of the years we spent apart, our children forced to make two family ornaments instead of one. By the time Grady pulls out the pinecone ornament with the pom-poms glued haphazardly all over it, there’s an ache in my chest.
“He made that in pre-school,” I say sadly. “The year we—” I can’t say the words.
Grady nods and hangs it on the tree, then comes to me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tightly. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers. “It happened. We all made it to the other side.”
“We made Dad all the same ornaments we made you,” Caden says proudly, oblivious to my heartache. “We didn’t want him to feel left out.”
I blink back tears and nod at my sweet son. “That was good of you,” I manage to choke out, and Grady squeezes me tighter.
“You know Mr. Tibbles is gonna tear this tree up when we leave, right?” Chloe asks, and as if on cue our cat saunters into the room and perches on the arm of the sofa nearest the tree, eying some of the decorations with interest. We all look at each other in horror as we realize she’s right and immediately begin rearranging the ornaments to protect them from being batted off the tree.
“Our tree looks awesome this year,” Caden observes when we’re finished. The branches are laden with way more ornaments than necessary, but everything the kids made for us hangs together. I steal a peek at Chloe, who is radiant in the colored glow cast by the strings of lights criss-crossing the branches.
“Perfect,” Grady agrees, and though I thought it was impossible to love him more, my heart swells.
