Secrets (19 page)

But he didn't. They walked up the steps to the porch and inside in silence. But she didn't mind. She knew where they were headed. She paused at the door to the bedroom with the double bed and turned back to look at Jeff, but he wasn't behind her. He was standing in the living room and seemed to be waiting for her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I think we have to talk.”

Cassie smiled, then turned away so he wouldn't see her. Jeff was the kind of man who'd ask a woman to marry him before he went to bed with her. She imagined going to a jewelry store with him and choosing a ring.

He motioned for her to sit down on the couch, while he stood. So he can more easily get down on one knee? she wondered.

“Cassie,” he began, “you and I have known each other a long time.”

Longer than you know, she thought, but didn't say anything.

“I know what you feel about me, about us, and I want to reassure you that everything you've, uh, worked for will happen, but it can't be right now.”

She looked at him in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. “I mean that I know that you…You are a person of goals and I know that you follow through on those goals, and that's a good thing. It's just that I'm involved in something right now and I can't help you in your goals.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she said.

“Goals,” he said, then looked down at her hands. “I wonder if you know that you're more like your mother than you think.”

She pulled her hands away from his. “I don't know what you're talking about, but I can assure you that I'm not like my mother.”

“I don't mean to insult you. I know what your mother's like. She's ferocious in the business world. You're not like that, but in a way, you are. She decides what she wants, then she goes after it, and so do you.”

“I have never wanted to be the CEO of a corporation.”

“No, of course not,” he said, reaching for her hands again and pulling them toward him. “But you did set yourself a goal and you went after it. And I want you to know that you've attained it. That's not a problem. I do love you.”

He paused when Cassie drew in her breath. Smiling, he squeezed her hands. “How could I not love you? You're the sweetest person in the world, and my father loves you and my daughter thinks you hung the moon.”

“Jeff,” Cassie said, “pardon me for being stupid, but I think I'm missing the point to what you're saying. If you love me, shouldn't we…” Breaking off, she looked down at their hands together. This wasn't how she'd imagined that he'd tell her that he loved her. Why wasn't he pulling her into his arms and kissing her?

“When I get this thing with Althea finished, then maybe you and I can be together, but not now. And I know that's not right because you've waited so very long.”

“Waited so long for Althea?”

“No, of course not. Waited so long for
me
. Sometimes I think about it and I marvel that a little girl could make up her mind and never deviate from it. I could see it if you were born with a talent—say, to play the piano—and you grew up to be a concert pianist, but to see some man and set your heart on him and never let up even when you were an adult…” He looked at her with admiration in his eyes.

At last, at long, horrible last, Cassie was beginning to understand what he was saying. “When did you and I first meet?” she whispered.

Jeff squeezed her hands and smiled. “When you were twelve. It was just before Lillian and I got married and we found you facedown in a swimming pool. Do you know that you almost died?”

Cassie pulled her hands out of his. “And you've always known that I was that girl? Ever since you hired me?”

“Yes,” he said, but the smile left him. “Cassie, I kept track of you after that day at the pool. It was like I was responsible for you, so I kept in touch. Well, not in touch, exactly, but I kept tabs on you. I even had a copy of your grades in college sent to me.”

“My grades sent to you,” she said softly.

“Is something wrong? You don't look so good.”

“I'm fine. So you had my grades sent to you, then what?”

“Nothing. After Lillian…died, I lost touch with you for a while, but then you started calling me about the nannies.”

“I called you about the nannies?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling again. “When they didn't show up, that sort of thing. I can tell you that I was impressed that you'd managed to get a job at Elsbeth's nursery school. You have a degree in American history but there you were, wiping snotty noses.”

“But you knew that I'd done it to be near you,” Cassie said quietly.

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “I knew it and I was pleased by it. It was good of you. But I didn't know why you'd done it until you asked me for the job of taking care of my daughter.”

“Then you understood everything.”

“Yeah. Cassie? Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes. Tell me about the part where you love me.”

Again, he took her hands. “Of course I fell in love with you right away. How could any man not love you? You're—”

“Trustworthy and sweet,” Cassie said.

“Yes,” he said hesitantly. “But you make it sound as though those are bad traits. I think they're wonderful.”

“But of course you'd want someone trustworthy and sweet to take care of your daughter and your father. Tell me, I'm just curious: Why didn't you tell me that you loved me when you decided you did?”

“The time wasn't right.”

“I see,” Cassie said, moving just a bit away from him. “And why should you tell me? You had a great life as it was. I was taking care of your home, your daughter, your father, and Skylar was taking care of your body. What more could you want in life?”

“Ah, I see. You're angry about Skylar. There's more to that than I can tell you about.”

“I know. Something about her father. But then, you didn't have to explain things to me, did you? I was just good ol' Cassie, quietly living in your home, baking myself into a stupor to take care of your life and your family. Why should you have to explain anything to me? Sweet, trustworthy Cassie, who had been in love with you since she was twelve years old. Tell me, Jeff, now, when you told me you were in love with me, what did you expect me to do?”

“Cassie, you're taking this wrong. What was I supposed to do when I first saw you at Elsbeth's school? Embarrass you by telling you that I knew you were the girl who'd hidden in the bushes and followed me around when she was a kid? I couldn't do that to you.”

“So, instead, you let me call you, not Dana, as it was on Elsbeth's cards, and tell you about the nannies. Then you let me ask you to give me a job that entailed living in your house. And you let me move in and take care of every aspect of your life. Tell me, Jeff, how hard did you laugh on those nights when I went downstairs when I knew you were down there alone?”

“Cassie, it wasn't like that. If you knew how much I wanted to take you in my arms and tell you what I felt—”

“But you didn't, did you? You let me do your laundry. You even let me mend your clothes. You let me do everything for you, all while you knew what I had done. I made you my lifelong goal, isn't that what you said? I was like my mother and set myself out a goal, then I went after it. I'll have to call her and tell her that I am just like her. I'm sure she'll be so proud. She may not agree with my goal, but she'll certainly understand that I went after it without so much as a thought about my dignity or my self-respect. The truth is that I never thought about myself at all.”

“Cassie,” Jeff said, reaching for her as she got up. He stood up and tried to take her arm, but she pulled back. “Let's talk about this. We'll talk this through and maybe we can work things out.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, glaring at him. “That in order to keep your maid, nanny, and cook, you'll what? Decide that you
can
find time for me? Or maybe you're going to tell me that you aren't in love with Skylar after all, that you were just hinting that you were going to marry her for some reason that has to do with her father?”

“It's a great deal bigger than that,” Jeff said, his hands at his side. “There are things in my life that you know nothing about. Cassie, you can be angry with me all you want, but I've done nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Okay, so tell me all about your life,” she said.

“I can't. I can't tell you anything. I made a mistake in allowing you to get involved with Althea, and I made a mistake allowing you to come here.”

“‘Allowing me?' Is that what you said? Oh, I see. You think that since you've known me since I was a kid that you need to take care of me. But then you said that, didn't you? What was it you said? You're responsible for me.”

“Cassie, please don't do this. There are things that I can't tell you. Things about Lillian's death that influence every decision in my life.”

“I'm willing to listen,” she said.

“I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“Well, that's that, then,” she said.

“Cassie…,” he began as he reached for her. “I think I made a mess of everything. I've hurt you when I never meant to. I've worked hard to keep it light between us. I can't begin to tell you how difficult it's been to have you in my house and not be able to touch you. I wanted to do things like tonight.”

“Dance?”

“Yes. That and more. You've been good to all of us. You've made our lives pleasant and easy. You've—”

“Saint Cassandra who does a strip on the countertop.”

“I could have done without that,” Jeff said, grinning, but she didn't smile back.

“This has been a lot of information,” Cassie said. “I'm going to have to think about it all.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeff said. “Cassie—”

She put up her hand. “I've heard more than I can process tonight,” she said, then went into the bedroom, shut the door, and began to quietly pack her bag.

Thirty minutes later, she heard the shower running. She picked up her bag, tiptoed out of the room, and took Jeff's keys off the top of the dresser in his bedroom. She slipped the car key off the ring and left the others. Silently, she left the cabin, got into his car, and drove away into the night. There was only one place and one person who she knew to go to: Althea.

Six Months Later

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

C
ASSIE STEPPED OFF THE TREADMILL
and mopped the sweat off her face.

“One hour?” her trainer, Xavier, said, and she nodded, then made a face at his back. He was a man who was very aware of his clients. If they ate a muffin, he could tell. When Cassie first enrolled in his program, he'd been very polite and had listened to all her likes and dislikes about exercising. She'd told him the truth, that she was a woman who would much rather spend the afternoon baking than doing lunges. She told him the exercises she hated and the ones she enjoyed.

What she didn't understand was that he was asking her so he knew what to give her to do. If she hated an exercise or was afraid of something, then that's what he assigned her to do. She was afraid of heights, so he spent six weeks making her climb a rock face. When she'd managed to make it up the side of his plastic mountain in five minutes, he took her to a bigger rock.

For six months she'd done little but work out. She'd started with two thirty-minute sessions a week with Xavier, and alone on the treadmill three times a week, feeling like she was going to faint after a mere ten minutes. After a month, she was able to increase her sessions to three times a week and spend forty-five minutes at a time running. By six weeks, she'd added a yoga class and kickboxing.

After three months, Cassie started taking advantage of Fort Lauderdale's divine weather and going outside. A man from the gym asked her on a date, and she spent a day on a boat with six other people and had a great time. She took along some cupcakes she'd baked, and the others raved about them so much that she enrolled in a cooking course.

After four months, Cassie had lost a lot of weight and her body was toned and hard. And she was beginning to think that she could have a life without Jefferson Ames.

But she still thought about him. And she thought about Thomas and, most of all, Elsbeth. Althea kept Cassie informed about what was happening in Williamsburg, and she was now able to look at it from a distance.

That hadn't been so on the night she'd fled the cabin in Jeff's car. She'd driven straight to Althea's house, arriving there just as the sun was coming up. On the long drive, she blasted the radio and sang along with it, trying to be loud enough to hold off crying. If she cried, she wouldn't be able to see where she was going, and she didn't relish having a car wreck.

Althea was in bed, but Rosalie, the housekeeper, took one look at Cassie and led her back to her mistress's bedroom. Althea was wearing a gorgeous gown of champagne silk. Without makeup, she looked years older, but infinitely sweeter than Cassie had ever seen her—like everyone's image of the perfect grandmother. Althea pulled back the comforter, and said, “Tell me what he's done.” There seemed to be no question that a “he” was the cause of all the problems.

Cassie climbed into the bed and told Althea everything, from the beginning to the end, all while crying and blowing her nose on Althea's scented tissues.

“I want to make sure I understand what you're telling me,” Althea said. She had put on her makeup while Cassie unburdened herself, and now she was again the Great Lady. “Let me see if I have this correct. You tried to get a man by dedicating your life to him?”

“Sort of,” Cassie said, sniffing.

“And of course you've spent a long time trying to show him how good you are by being a dutiful wife and mother. And you were always there when he came home.”

“Yes.”

“And you were completely reliable?”

“Jeff called me trustworthy.” Cassie blew her nose loudly.

Althea shook her head in disbelief. “Truly horrible. You know, don't you, that you went about everything in exactly the wrong way.”

“I don't know any other way,” Cassie said.

Althea leaned toward her. “Don't you know that men haven't moved on from the cave? Oh, they may wear tuxedos and pretend they're civilized, but they're not. In their minds, they still live in caves and eat meat all day and love to fight. Only now they watch it on TV.”

Cassie gave a little smile.

“You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Men are still hunters. No matter that they say they're tree huggers, they aren't. What you did to Jeff was a horrible thing.”

“Me? What did I do? I took care of his home. I—”

“I know all that,” Althea said. “You took away Jeff's right to hunt. Men want to stalk their prey. They want their prey to put up a fight so they can sit around the campfire and brag about what they had to do to kill it.”

“You're saying I made it too easy for him,” Cassie said.

“You were a doe that walked into his cave, sat down on his lap, and offered up your throat to be cut.”

“That's an ugly image.”

“You know what I think?” Althea said. “I think that your imagined love for Jeff got you through a loveless childhood.”

“But the real Jeff is a nice guy. Or I thought he was. But all this time he knew that I was…that I was…” Cassie's tears began again.

“What he knew was that he didn't have to fight for you. Do you know anything about his late wife?”

“According to Jeff, she was a saint.”

“No, not that. What about her circumstances in life?”

“She was rich. My mother said she was a class above Jeff.”

“There you go,” Althea said. “Getting her was a struggle. A hunt. A fight.”

“So you're saying that I need to make Jeff fight for me?”

“I'm saying that you need to dump that idiot man and find one who wants to slay dragons to win you.”

“I think you're right,” Cassie said slowly. “I know that if I ever have to see him again, I'll die of embarrassment. But what about Thomas and Elsbeth? I can't bear to think of not seeing them ever again.”

“Cassie, you need to think about
you
.”

“I'm not very good at that,” she said.

“Obviously,” Althea said under her breath. “I'm going to outline a new plan for you and you're going to follow it.”

“I'm going to need a new job. I can't stay here.” The thought of being far away from Thomas and Elsbeth made Cassie start crying again. “It's so unfair. All I did was fall in love and—”

“Do stop whining,” Althea said. “It's beginning to give me a headache. Do you have any money?”

“I have about four thousand in the bank.”

“That's nothing. Tell me, this mother of yours, does she earn a lot of money?”

“I read in
Forbes
that last year she got a bonus of three million.”

“And how much of that did she share with you?”

“None. But then I wouldn't dream of asking her for money.”

“Well, start dreaming, girl. Or in your case, stop dreaming and
do
something. You're going to go to your mother and—”

“Oh, no, I'm not,” Cassie said firmly. “I would rather live on the streets than ask my mother for anything. I'd rather—”

“I'm going to give you some things to do and you need the freedom to do them. You can't be trapped in a nine-to-five job.”

Cassie looked at her suspiciously. “What kinds of things do you want me to do?”

“A little acting, that's all, but you need time to prepare for the role.”

“I can't act.”

“Oh? And what have you been doing for the last year? Haven't you been acting like you weren't crazy in love with Jefferson Ames?”

“I guess so,” Cassie said, then looked at Althea. “If I'm to do work for you, then maybe I could get a salary from you. I could—”

“No, it doesn't work that way. I'm no therapist, but I think it's necessary for you to face that mother of yours.”

“I can do that, it's just asking her for money that I hate.”

“Cassie, as far as I can tell, you never ask anyone for anything. And unless you want to spend the rest of your life being the girl everyone takes advantage of and no one loves, then you
are
going to your mother. And you're going to do exactly what I tell you to.”

“What's the difference?” Cassie mumbled. “I'm being bullied by you or her.”

Althea took Cassie's hands in her own. “There comes a time in every girl's life when she must deal with her mother. You may not think so, but you need her.”

“Like you need your daughter?”

Althea tried to pull away, but Cassie held on.

“I'll make you a deal,” Cassie said. “I'll meet with my mother, I'll even hit her up for money, but only if you agree to contact your daughter. And you have to invite the whole family here for Christmas.”

Althea pulled her hands away and stiffened. “I can't do that. There are things you know nothing about and they—”

“Such as whatever part Roger Craig plays in your life? And Leo Norton? And of course there's Brent, who has to be the worst gardener in the world.”

Althea laughed. “Keep your eyes open, don't you? All right, I'll do it. Rosalie will like having lots of kids to cook for—if they come, that is.”

“Even if your daughter isn't interested in you, I bet her daughters are. “

“What a good idea!” Althea said. “I'll send invitations to each one of them, not just my daughter. She can stay home and sulk if she wants to.”

Cassie laughed. “Okay, so now what do we do? Do I go groveling to my mother and beg?”

“Not by a long shot,” Althea said. “When I get through with you, your bully of a mother will grovel to you.”

“That would be something I'd like to see.”

In the end, Cassie did fly to New York and did meet with her mother. And she dealt with her in a way that Althea had made her rehearse. “There isn't a personality type that I haven't played or played against,” she said, obviously enjoying herself immensely. They went to the attic and Althea had Cassie dress as close to her mother as possible. The wool suit wouldn't button over her chest, but it was enough that she felt as though she looked like Margaret Madden. Cassie pulled her thick hair back from her face and tied it in a severe bun.

For over an hour, she and Althea took turns playing the roles of Margaret and Cassie. Althea was a better bully than Margaret was in person, but Cassie was finally able to stare her down, to sit up and not be intimidated by her mother's aggression.

“It's all in how you handle it,” Althea said. “If it weren't, there'd be no need for divorce and the hope that the next spouse will be a better one.”

Althea sent Cassie into Richmond to Saks and instructed her stylist to dress Cassie as though for a corporate meeting. Although Althea organized it all by telling Cassie exactly what to do, she didn't offer to help with the finances. By the time Cassie got the plane tickets and the clothes, she had less than a hundred dollars in her account and the bank was calling her.

During the few days she spent at Althea's house, Cassie stayed hidden. Not even Brent knew she was there. He was outside mowing the lawn, and a couple of times Cassie heard his voice, but she stayed in her room. The only time she came close to giving herself away was when she saw Thomas and Elsbeth walking away from the house. They were holding hands and they both looked downcast.

Cassie wanted to throw open the window and call out to them. Elsbeth had lost her mother before she knew her, and Thomas had lost a beloved daughter-in-law. They had given Cassie their love, but she too had left them.

But when she thought of Jeff and how he had known all about her for all those years, Cassie turned away from the window.

Althea had pointed out that Cassie should have told Jeff when he hired her that she was the girl he'd saved years before. The words made her feel worse. No wonder Jeff had never thought of her as a mature woman.

On the flight to New York, Cassie had searched her brain for what to tell her mother about why she wanted money. In the end, Cassie told the truth, that something bad had happened in her life and she needed time to recover from it, so she needed some money to live on. Margaret had looked so relieved that her daughter wasn't asking for something emotional that she'd written a check then and there. “Will that be enough?” she'd asked.

Cassie gulped at the amount. “More than enough,” she said, then smiled at her.

“Cassandra,” Margaret began, “I've rented a house on Martha's Vineyard for this summer. Maybe you'd like to visit me there.”

It took Cassie a moment to recover herself. Her mother had rented a house? For a vacation? For time off? She remembered something Althea said: “The problem with setting goals is, What do you do when you reach them?” Cassie answered that you set new ones and went after them, but Althea had said it didn't work that way. And Cassie was seeing the truth in that. Since she was twelve, her goal had been to have Jefferson Ames tell her he loved her. He'd done it, but it hadn't made her feel good. So maybe her mother was feeling some of the same thing. She'd devoted her life to reaching the top and now that she was there, what did she do? She was a naturally frugal woman, so she wasn't about to go out and pay six grand for a shower curtain, as other CEOs had done. So what did she do with her life now that all her goals had been achieved?

As for Cassie, in her time with Althea, she'd begun to think about what she'd do with her life other than be at the beck and call of Jefferson Ames.

“I'd love to visit,” Cassie said, smiling at her mother. “Actually, I'd like to talk to you about a business I'm thinking about starting.”

Margaret's eyes lit up. “What kind of business?”

“Mail order nursery plants of heritage varieties.”

“I've read about that,” Margaret said. “It's a business that's generating a lot of interest. I could do some research and look into it for you.”