by jm blake
“There you are.” I start the video again and watch the whole thing. She is a fantastic teacher, and I love the way she engages her students. It’s clear that they adore her and also that they are an outstandingly talented group. The class is about an hour, and I can honestly say I learned some things. She has a way of weaving lessons with the conversation, and I grab a pen and paper before starting the next video. In this one, she is wearing a cardi with a baggy white vest with some sort of picture. I try to zoom in on it but can’t make it out. I take a sip of whiskey and settle in. I take some notes as she speaks, at some points closing my eyes and letting the sound of her rough little voice wash over me.
I miss her. There I said it.
Even on my lowest days, I could never admit that- not even to myself.
I make it through five more videos, my whiskey getting low, and my eyelids drooping. I fast forward through a few where her students teach most of the class. At the end of one, I see that she is sitting behind the podium, her feet up on the desk. I find her positioning odd and shake off my exhaustion.
“Any other questions, guys? No? Okay, let’s spend our last five minutes with ‘something great.’” At the end of every class, Cassidy takes the time to give her students a chance to talk about something positive. Sometimes it’s something simple, like a date they went on, or a movie they saw. Other times it’s something profound; a family member’s recovery or just something they were feeling. This time, it’s a boy I’ve noticed, Felix, who I need to think about hiring at DevCo. He’s seriously brilliant, and his feedback in class is spot on. I make a mental note to have Phyl look the kid up.
“I wanted to say that my something great is that my little brother has just been accepted to MIT, thanks to Dr. Masters’ recommendation!” The whole class cheers and Cassidy beams. She claps with her hands above her head, barely moving her legs. He gives way to another student, but I keep my eyes on Cassidy, who seems to be wincing in pain.
“Okay, class. I’ll see everyone next week. Have a great weekend and remember, ‘I can and I will.’” The class ends, but just before the video stops, I watch Cassidy stand up and push a fist into her back. My heart stops in my chest, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Fumbling for my phone, I push a button.
“Bash. I need you to get over here immediately.”
Ayden
I’m pacing around the living room, when Bash lets himself into my flat.
“Alright, old man. What’s got you arse over tit.?” He’s in silk printed pajama pants and a Cambridge jumper. I’m pulling at my hair and staring at him. My stomach is in a turvy; I’m almost positive I may vomit. I point at the computer that I’ve been avoiding like a hissing snake.“Take a look.”
His amused expression does nothing to ease my terror. “What am I looking for?” He settles onto the plush cream cushion and pulls the computer onto his lap. I don’t even flinch when he leans over and takes a sip of my whiskey.
“Rewind the last two minutes or so, and then tell me what you see.” His eyebrows waggle, and he taps a few buttons. I can hear the video start and then Cassidy’s voice as she closes the class. Bash’s face moves closer to the screen, and I see his eyes widen in alarm. His mouth drops open, and he starts to pull at his hair too.
“Bloody hell,” he whispers, rewinding the video, and then back. “Ayden…”
“So I’m not crazy, right? She’s pregnant in that video.” Holy hell, saying it out loud, makes the alcohol swirling in my stomach turn sour. “That’s my baby she’s got, Bash. I’m completely gobsmacked” I land heavily on the sofa across from him, burying my face in my hands. How could this happen?
Alright, I know how it happened. I can count quite a few times my, erm, eagerness caused me to be less than careful. And wasn’t she on a shot? I kick my self mentally. I can hear an ancient master of mine at Eton droning on about the fallibility of birth control— nothing is foolproof.
“Have you looked at any of the other videos? The later ones?” Bash’s voice is odd, and when I look up, I see the biggest, stupidest grin on his face.
“Fucking hell, are you happy about this? You look like a complete loon.” He laughs in delight while staring at the screen.
“You’re bloody right. I’m happy! I never thought I’d be an uncle. Ohhh, Mum is going to be chuffed. When can I tell her? Wait, I want to tell her in person in case I need to catch her from a dead faint. Her little lord has finally given her an heir.” He’s prattling on, and all I can do is glare at him. “Bash!”
He stops his chattering but still has that stupid smile. “I know Ayden. You never wanted children or a family, blasé blah. But sometimes life gives you what you need when you don’t have what you want. You’ve spent one whole year mooning about and being a right mess over Cassidy. And now, you have every excuse in the book to show up on her doorstep. Of course, we need to know why she hasn’t reached out and told you about the little one, but that’s less important. Let’s see; she was here last in June?” He is speedily typing. “I don’t suppose you know if she had a cycle while she was here?” The glare again. “No? Ok. So based on a few things, I’d say that she had the baby around March thereabouts. So it should be around three months old or so now. Look.” He swivels the screen around and shows me a still of Cassidy. The date on the video is this past March, and I note that it’s the last video in the series. She is heavily pregnant here; it’s more than obvious. Of course, the little vixen manages to look radiantly gorgeous with her round belly and messy hair. My heart, which about shriveled in panic, slowly starts to reinflate.
“She looks happy, no?” He zooms in a bit more, and I can’t help by touch her face on the screen. A baby. With Cassidy. The tiny bloom of happiness that keeps threatening to grow unfurls one leaf.
“Bash, I don’t know the first thing about children. I’ve barely even held a baby. Hell, the last one I held was Erik, and I gave him right back. What the hell am I going to do?” The panic starts to climb again. “They live halfway across the world. How am I going to make this work?”
“You’ll do what every new daddy does: learn as you go. We may not remember much about our dad, but Grandfather and Thomas have been great role models, and of course, I’ll be there for you too. Before you start borrowing trouble, I suggest we get the hard part out of the way first- meeting your baby and finding out why the lovely Dr. Masters has kept this a secret. Is it too late to call Phyl?” I hear him on the phone, but it sounds like a bee buzzing in the distance.
What if it’s a girl? Bloody hell, a girl that looks like Cassidy? I’ll be done for. There’s no way I can parent a little girl- I’ll want to lock her in a convent.
Wait. Are those still around? I’ll need to have Phyl look into that.
Of course, it could be a boy. I relax a bit at that. Nick and Kenna have three boys. I know that Kenna has griped about being the only female in the house, but Nick would be thrilled with “a little MacKenna monster.” However, he also stated that the poor baby girl would have to have a security team starting in preschool, so maybe he’s not a good example. And good God, his niece Mia, is a terror. The little pincher stole my father’s antique fob from my pocket, and I only got it back last year. She has waged a silent war against her younger sister, and it’s taking everything her poor parents have to keep her in line.
She’s barely even four years old.
So absolutely. A boy would be better.
“Ok, we are all set. Your personal plane will be ready the day after tomorrow, Phyl is making all of the arrangements- don’t worry, we included the carbon credits. That gives us one day in the office to get everything squared away, leave Pat some direction, and pin down exactly where she is. You don’t have her address, do you?”
I slowly shake my head, and my mind whirls. “You’re coming with?” Part of me wants to go alone- in case I chicken out and run back to my plane. The other half wants him to accompany me to prevent just that.
“Your bloody right, I’m coming. Someone needs to make
sure you don’t scare yourself silly. And there’s no way I’m going to miss her face when we show up. Now, I’m going to take this computer upstairs to your spare room- so that you don’t spend the whole night looking up obscure websites that will frighten you to death. And don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Mum just yet. That’s all on you, brother. Now get some sleep. You don’t want your child to be scared of you with those dark circles, do you? You look like a zombie from that one movie. Have you seen it? Bloody scary.” I stare after him as he gallops up the stairs whistling the American national anthem.
Bash
Uncle Bash?
Uncle Seb?
Tió Bastian?
Oncle Sebastian?
TonTon?
Ayden
This is one of the few times in my life that I am grateful that my brother is such a pain in the arse.
He spent the entire plane ride doing all in his power to keep me distracted. First, he put Poltergeist on the large TV console. It took me a few minutes to catch on, and then I had to wrestle him for the remote control. He then called Nick, telling him everything. Nick, who has some experience with this type of situation firsthand, laughed himself stupid and then called his wife to join in. MacKenna is thrilled and smacks at her husband to quiet down, and then offers her perspective.
“I don’t know Cassidy, but the main reason a woman wouldn’t tell a man about a baby would be a need to protect. You said she was an orphan, right? And that you told her how you never wanted children? Well, there ya go. She probably thought you were going to reject her and the baby- she’s acting out of a mother’s instinct. Don’t judge her too harshly, okay? She sounds awesome—and you need someone awesome. Nick, stop laughing…” She hands the phone over to her husband, and I hear him kissing on her.
My so-called best friend clears his throat from his prolonged hilarity. “Everything my beautiful wife said and then some, Your Highness. You’ll have a beautiful baby, and if your royal ass plays it right, a gorgeous woman too. Ask yourself: what is it you want? Really want? Whatever it is, go and get it. Don’t let anything stand in your way.”
“Ayden? I’m going to tell you what Uncle Charles once said to me: ‘Don’t let fear chase you away from perfection: a true warrior fights for what he deserves.’ I will never forget that, and you’ll do well to think about it.” A cry goes up in the background, and she hurries off. “That’s Remy- he’s not a good sleeper. Call me once you meet your kid…and Ayden? Good luck.” I say farewell to the Grants, and my brother proceeds to pull a miniature game console out of his pocket. The beeps and tones send me flying to the bedroom at the back of the plane. I flop onto the fluffy mattress and stare at the ceiling. All sorts of questions swirl in my head, but I push them back. Kenna was right. I am letting fear guide me. A swell of determination overtakes me, and I surprisingly fall into a deep sleep.
Bash wakes me just before landing, shoving me into the small bathroom to clean up. I shaved back home, but a light scruff covers my jaw. My hair is tamed, and though they haven’t completely disappeared, the dark circles aren’t too noticeable. (Okay I’ve been using an eye cream—don’t judge me.) I decided that causal clothes are more suitable and brush my hands over my jeans and cashmere sweater. The weather isn’t too different from London, so I’ll fit right in.
Phyl has a driver waiting for us, and we pull off immediately. It’s late afternoon here, and the sunshine is bright and warm. “How do Californians tell all of these cities apart? San Carlos, San Fransisco, San Mateo… I’d be knackered just trying to tell the difference.” Bash leans up, reading some road signs.
“I’m sure they feel the same way about all of our ‘Shires.’” We have about an hour’s drive to Berkeley, and I take a swig of the bottled water in front of us. “This car is quite posh, no?” I’ve never been inside of a Maybach before. I catch glimpses of the Bay and drink more water.
“Alright?” I glance over at my brother, who has a concerned look. I tick a smile at him. “Quite. I think speaking to Nick and Kenna helped me immensely. Hopefully, Cassidy isn’t too put out about us just landing on her doorstep.”
We cross over a bridge, and I see the signs for Emeryville and Rockridge. A friendly sign welcomes us to Berkeley, and I take in the sights. It has a tiny town feel, indeed not unlike the village near my country house. We pass Cassidy’s university, a stately campus, and turn into a neighborhood near it. After a few turns, we slow down in front of a small house, an old red Jeep in the driveway. The lawn is neatly trimmed, and there is a brown hammock strung between two trees.
“Alright, old man. Here we go.” Bash exits the car, and I take a deep breath, pushing my door open. He gives some information to the driver and takes a few steps to the porch. I can hear some music faintly playing and the sound of voices. I’m frozen on the spot and rolling his eyes, Bash rings the bell.
“I’ve got it!” A muffled, unfamiliar voice calls out. “Did you tip already?” Someone in the background answers, and the door flies open. “Jesus in velvet.”
The petite red-haired girl in the doorway freezes in her tracks. She’s about Cassidy’s height with luminous dark brown eyes and a plump pink pout. Her eyes widen as she takes us in from head to toe, cataloging every detail. I see her pause on my Prada shoes and narrow in on my watch. “You’re not here to deliver pizza, are you?”
Bash chuckles, and I smile. “No, darling. I’m here for Cassidy. May I speak with her?” Her cheeks flush at the question, and her heart-shaped mouth drops. “Um, huh. Yeah. Um. Who are you?” She scratches at her head and continues to stare.
“I’m Ayden. And you must be Gemma.” Judging by her trendy outfit, this can only be the fashion sister.
“Ayden? Um, okay. How do you know my sister?”
Ouch. I guess Cassidy didn’t speak of me too much. “We’re..friends. I would very much like to see her if possible.” I tilt my head in a way that usually gets women to do what I want. Her eyes dance over my face and stop on the patch of hair over my temple. Her mouth opens and closes rapidly, and she pulls the door closed behind her.
“Did you say, Cassidy? I thought you said, Catherine. Ha! Silly me. No one named Cassidy lives here. Sorry. Maybe you should try next door. Um, okay. Run along now.” She waves her hand in a shoo motion and plasters herself to the frame as if holding back a herd of buffalo. “Go on, hot British man. Take your, um, other hot British friend with you.” She leans forward awkwardly as if stuck to the door, pushing at my midsection. “Oh, god cashmere and a six-pack…you gotta go.” She pushes again, this time with just a finger.
“Now, Gemma. I’ve flown a very long way and have no intention of leaving until I see Cassidy. So if you would, darling…” I gesture behind her. Her head shakes violently, and she spreads her short legs from edge to edge. “Can’t do it. You gotta go.” I’m about to lift her out of the way when the door starts to open behind her. Her eyes practically pop out of her head, and she whips around, grabbing the doorknob. She engages in a tug of war with whoever is on the other side, and Bash starts laughing outright.
“Gemma, what in the hell are you doing? Are you flirting with the pizza boy again?” With a final tug, the door opens, and Gemma almost falls on her lovely rear. Bash reaches out and catches her before she can hit the ground. “Who the hell are you?”
Gemma shoots up and pushes the much taller woman back. “Um. They have the wrong house, Brin. They are looking for someone named Cassidy; you know the name of the woman who doesn’t live here? They need to go to another county, maybe, I dunno.” She’s babbling desperately and if I wasn’t concerned about alienating Cassidy’s whole family, and I would’ve slapped a hand over her mouth. I look at Bash, who is still smiling, but also intently staring at the sisters. They are quite a pair.
“Hello, Brin. My name is Ayden St. Devane; this is my brother Sebastian. I’ve come to see Cassidy and Gemma here seems determined to prevent it. Perhaps you can help me?” I try the head tilt again, and it does not affect her at a
ll. Those green eyes narrow, and arms slowly cross over her chest.
“My sister told you no, Mr. St Devane. Please leave.” Gemma is unsuccessfully trying to signal her sister something, but she keeps her eyes on mine.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I am not leaving until I see Cassidy.” I take a step closer, and the girls form a human wall. Gemma leans in to whisper something that causes Brin’s honey blonde head to whip around. The glare she was throwing hardens like a diamond. “No. Now, if you like, we can call the cops and have you escorted away. You are violating about six different laws right now.”