Learning to Love Again

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Learning to Love Again Page 12

by A. K. Rose


  Rachel was receptive and not at all shy about expressing her feelings, fingers entwined in Cassie’s hair, grip tightening with every thrust of Cassie’s tongue, her breathing ragged and rushed. Her mind unable to stop the noises she was instinctively releasing. She was pinned down and vulnerable—and she loved it. When Cassie sensed she was making progress, she retreated, returning to the sensitive nub where she’d begun, tasting and teasing simultaneously before setting a steady rhythm she knew would send her lover over the edge. If there was an advantage to being in a romantic relationship with another woman, it was that she knew what worked. No fumbling, no forcing it—she was confident, sure of herself.

  Finally, when she could hold back no longer, Rachel gave in completely, her tensed quad muscles releasing with the rest of her body, waves of pleasure emanating throughout her entire being, her breath ultimately returning to a more normal cadence after a brief delay.

  “And people say lawyers are boring,” Rachel quipped as Cassie extricated herself from a kneeling position, carefully returning smooth legs to the bed and moving back to a pillow, exhausted. “You’re awfully good at that, you know. Maybe you need to leave your hands out of this more often . . .”

  SIXTEEN

  It was the last Monday in November, a chill in the air and a gray tint tarnishing an otherwise cloudless sky. Cassie sat at her desk in the basement of a dingy building the office of the State Attorney General held its staff lawyers, flipping through the next month’s caseload. December was stacking up to be busy, not unsurprising, as people lost patience for lack of child support payments during the holidays.

  Her desk was an Army-surplus hand-me-down, its metal legs chipped and nicked from years of use, no fewer than fifteen coats of paint showing on various layers. Hers was not a flashy hot-shot lawyer job. She worked hard, but she wasn’t on the fast track to partnership or a vacation home or even a salary comparable with a new college graduate. She didn’t care. Cassie felt her job was important. She helped mothers get the funds they were due from fathers that had for one reason or another determined they were above the law. She found satisfaction in delivering results for those that really needed them.

  As she made notes on her new cases, the office receptionist buzzed her desk line.

  “Cassie, a Jennifer Hollander is here to see you,” Cathy said, matter of fact. “Okay to send her back?”

  Cassie was floored. Her cousin’s wife was in Austin, unannounced, and had showed up at her office. It made no sense. Cassie had just sent Stuart the name of a good family law attorney in Houston a half-hour before. There was no way she could’ve known that. How did Jennifer even know where she worked?

  “Um, sure,” Cassie replied, puzzled, standing to step away from her desk. She didn’t have an office. The lawyers on her team shared an open area with low cubicles, just enough false privacy to make her think she had separation when sitting, but as soon as she stood, she could see everyone at work.

  Jennifer worked her way through the maze of cubicles to Cassie’s desk, seeing her standing amongst attorneys hunched over laptops and legal pads, the steady murmur of phone conversations filling the air.

  “Jennifer, hi,” Cassie said, holding out her hand in preparation to shake. She wasn’t terribly close with Stuart’s wife—what was the protocol? Certainly they weren’t on hugging terms, especially with the information she had regarding Jennifer’s extracurricular activities.

  “Hi . . . Listen, I’m sorry to just barge in on you,” Jennifer said with a smile, her hand outstretched and big Texas hair reaching her resting spot a millisecond faster than her body. “It’s just, well . . . could we go somewhere and talk?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Sure, there’s a coffee shop across the street. Let me just finish one thing first. You can have a seat right over there,” Cassie said, motioning to a few chairs crammed haphazardly up against a wall nearby.

  As her unannounced guest walked away, Cassie opened her email account and shot Stuart a quick note. She had no idea the purpose of this visit, but she was suspicious, and wanted to document where she was going with Jennifer just in case. She thought like a lawyer; she couldn’t help it. If Jennifer was trying to get her involved in their marriage somehow, she wanted her alibi to be clear and traceable.

  + + +

  “So,” Cassie started, pouring a single serve creamer into her coffee, “what brings you to Austin?”

  Jennifer sat quietly for a moment, her blue eyes focused on the oak tabletop of the small bistro table in the corner of the coffee shop, nervousness apparent in her inability to make eye contact. Her auburn hair was teased and primped, make-up applied with care, thick mascara coating lashes with authority. This woman certainly had put herself together to drop in unannounced.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the smile she’d had plastered on her face earlier long gone. “I’m in town for a conference this week, but, that’s not why I came. It’s just that . . . I wanted to talk to you because I have some troubles that I think you’ll understand, and I’m not sure who else might.”

  “Okay, sure. Go for it.” Cassie had no idea where this was going, but she was guarded. Her opinion of her cousin’s wife wasn’t exactly flattering.

  “Well, okay, here’s the deal. I love Stuart, you have to believe me. I do. But, there’s this big part of me that says he’s not the one for me, you know? It’s not him really, so much as it is that he’s a him. You know what I mean?”

  Cassie knew what she was being told, she thought, but she still wasn’t sure why she was being told this information. “Are you saying you think you might be gay?”

  “I don’t think it, not anymore. I used to just think it. As the years have gone by, well the truth is, I know it. But I’ve got this marriage and a son and a life that isn’t really me. I have an identity that says I’m one thing, but I’m not that. It’s driving me crazy, and I thought you might be able to talk about it, to shed your perspective on what I should do.” Jennifer’s shoulders had relaxed now, her gaze re-focused to eye-level, a sincerity had surfaced in her tone that told Cassie she was hurting.

  “Wow, Jen, that’s not what I was expecting. Thank you for telling me this. I’m so sorry you’re hurting—I had no idea, really. I’m honored that you feel comfortable enough to tell me, but you know it’s a little hard for me since you’re my cousin’s wife. I have an obligation to him, too.”

  “I know, I know. I have only good intentions, I promise you. I haven’t been the best wife for a long time, especially as I’ve explored some . . . um . . . instincts. I just didn’t quite know where else to turn. It’s not exactly a common problem, and I can’t go to my mom’s group with this one . . .”

  Cassie reached across the small table and placed a hand on Jennifer’s. She was torn. She wanted to be helpful and supportive, but she had to look out for Stuart, too. She didn’t miss the irony of the situation; that the woman who had hit on her girlfriend at Thanksgiving a few days before was now coming to her for help. Life was completely unpredictable sometimes.

  “Okay, well, I’m going to talk to you as your friend, not as your husband’s cousin or a lawyer. Is the marriage salvageable, if you work on it? Do you think you two could work it out if you come clean with Stuart? Do you even want to?” Cassie had a lot of questions—these were just the beginning.

  With a sigh, Jennifer shook her head. “I think it’s too late, Cass. I haven’t been totally honest with him. I’ve been unfaithful. I was wrong to be unfaithful, but I was right in my suspicions about who I am. I think it’s too late. I’m ready to move on, as sad as it is. I don’t think he knows, at least I don’t think he knows the full extent of it,” Jennifer said, unaware that Cassie knew exactly what she was up to in her spare time. At least she thought she did.

  “Alright, well, the first thing is you have to do what’s best for you, within reason, you know? Y’all have a kid, you’re going to be in each other’s lives forever—Kevin will bond you together whether you like it or not. He
’s still young, so you have many years of co-parenting ahead of you. But, if it were me, I’d start by talking to Stu. You have to tell him the truth, as much as you possibly can, anyway. I know you don’t want to hurt him, but that’s kind of unavoidable at this point.”

  “I know . . .”

  “And then, depending on how he takes it, I can help you find a good lawyer. You should both have an attorney to help you navigate, especially because of Kevin. I’m really sorry, Jen. I know this must be so hard for you.”

  “Yeah, you know, it’s not how I thought my life would play out, that’s for sure. But, you know how it is. We grew up in Texas. This wasn’t exactly on the checklist of to-do items we were taught,” Jennifer laughed to herself a bit. It was true. They grew up in a place where the logical steps in the game of life involved finding a man, buying a house, and raising babies. There wasn’t much room for other ideas or alternatives, especially as far as the church was concerned.

  “Yeah, I know that one pretty well, honestly, I sympathize more than you could know. But I do have one piece of business with you, while we’re being honest.” Could she pull it off? Could she call Jennifer on her actions at Thanksgiving? Hell yeah, she could. “I can’t say I’m terribly surprised by your admission. Rachel told me what happened at Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh shit, Cassie, I’m sorry. I was a little tipsy—Jim shared some of his flask with me for my punch and I lost control of my manners. I was completely out-of-bounds. In fact, I totally forgot about that until just now. Trust me, I know better. I’m so sorry.” Jennifer’s eyes had found the oak tabletop again. She looked sincere, and her ordinarily unexpressive cheeks had turned as red as a cherry—she clearly didn’t have a poker face to speak of.

  “It’s okay, but don’t let it happen again, okay?” Cassie smiled. She wasn’t concerned, but it felt good to call someone out for a change. She wasn’t a doormat, and if Jennifer wanted her help, all cards needed to be on the table. “There’s one other thing. Are you sleeping with your boss?”

  “What?! No! Why would you think that?”

  “Well, let’s just say it appears that you are. Why are you meeting him—or her—at a hotel?”

  Jennifer laughed. Someone must have told Stuart about her weekly meeting at the Hampton Inn. “Oh, that’s an easy one. I’m an event planner, you know. We have been holding weekly seminars at the Hampton Inn in Sugarland to recruit IT professionals into our accreditation program. I never mentioned it to Stuart because honestly, we don’t talk much anymore. And, my boss is a married man. I won’t lie and say I’ve been totally faithful, but I haven’t been fooling around with men, and especially not my boss!”

  Cassie suddenly noticed the time. She’d been away from her desk for over an hour and desperately needed to get a few cases completed before the end of the day. She hadn’t planned for a drop-in of this nature, and she certainly hadn’t expected the news she’d received. Life isn’t always as it seems, she knew now more than ever.

  “Ah, okay, good. Listen, Jen, I have to get back to work. But, I won’t talk to Stuart about this. My advice is to go home, tell him the truth. Get yourself a lawyer, and try to be as civil as possible to each other, okay? And, when it comes to the more personal aspect of this—and I mean this—if you need anything, help, support, a shoulder to cry on, just let me know. I’ve walked in your shoes for a lot of years. I know what it’s like.”

  “Thanks, really, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you. I’m sorry I just dropped in on you, but I feel so much better now,” Jennifer said, standing to give Cassie a hug before grabbing her over-sized handbag and walking towards the door. She turned at the last minute to offer a wave, and then was gone as fast as she’d arrived.

  I wasn’t expecting that, Cassie thought as she dropped her mug into a bussing station.

  SEVENTEEN

  Cassie started the walk back to her office in a daze. Had that just happened? It seemed surreal, and yet, believable. Her mind was on the conversation she’d just had; she didn’t even see it coming.

  She was in the middle of a crosswalk, lost in thought when it happened. A pickup rolled through a red light and turned right into her. She was leveled on impact and knocked unconscious. Luckily, the driver stopped, called 9-1-1, and stayed with her until an ambulance arrived. She still had vital signs; she was still breathing. Her leg was a twisted mess, the left side of her face completely covered in road rash and blood.

  When she came to, she was in the back of an ambulance, disoriented, her clothes shredded and her body throbbing from head to toe.

  “What . . . where . . . what happened?” She finally mustered, reeling from the pain she felt with such intensity. There wasn’t a bone that didn’t hurt; there wasn’t a muscle that didn’t scream. What the hell happened to me?

  “A truck hit you in the crosswalk, do you know your name?” A male voice asked, shining a flashlight into an eye he had propped open with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Cassie Hollander. Am I okay?”

  “You will be, ma’am. You will be. You’re banged up pretty good, though,” the EMT continued. “That leg’s broken and you have a lot of contusions. We’re taking you to the hospital now so they can fix your leg and fully assess the damage, make sure you’re not bleeding internally. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Cassie deadpanned. She was fucked up, but she still had her sense of humor. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “Can you please call my sister Claire—she’s in my phone—and tell her what happened; ask her to call everyone and let them know? She’ll know who to call.”

  “Of course. You just rest now, okay? We’ll be there in no time.”

  As the EMT called her sister, Cassie listened intently for her reaction. She couldn’t talk to Claire; not now. She could barely breathe.

  + + +

  The light overhead was intense, almost other-worldly. Her eyes couldn’t focus and Cassie didn’t know if she was dead or simply on an operating table; if she was going to die or if she’d be alright. She’d never been in the hospital before, never had so much as an inflamed tonsil or ruptured appendix. She didn’t know what was happening. She knew she felt completely alone. Strangely, she wasn’t in pain anymore, and she’d later find out that she’d been given a pain blocker in her hip that killed all sensation to her left leg to prepare for surgery.

  Cassie’s leg had been broken in two spots, and was set and stitched back together in a four-hour surgery. She was lucky though; no other bones had been broken and she wasn’t bleeding internally. She could’ve been killed on the spot, but someone or something was looking out for her. It would take a lot of time and hard work, but she’d be okay.

  As she woke up from the powerful anesthesia, she realized she was in the middle of a conversation with an older nurse. She couldn’t remember the conversation, but apparently they’d been talking for a while. She munched on some Saltine crackers and drank water from a straw, disoriented and confused.

  “What the hell happened to me?” she finally asked when her words returned.

  “Cassie, honey, you were hit by a pickup in a crosswalk by your office,” the nurse replied, gently patting her arm to soothe her patient. “Do you remember that?”

  “Not really. I . . . I remember going for a cup of coffee with my cousin’s wife, and then I remember starting to walk back to my office, but that’s it.”

  “Well, you hit your head pretty hard. The brain has a way of protecting us from remembering traumatic events, so you may not remember it. And, sweetie, that’s okay. The main thing is you’re going to be fine, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Cassie managed, her mouth dry and her throat tight. It hurt to speak, and her head felt like it was squeezed in between a mechanical vise.

  Just then, a familiar face appeared in the door of the private hospital room she occupied, red hair alerting her instantly who it was.

  “Hey you,” Jess offered
, stepping into the room with a bouquet of daises and a large Styrofoam cup from Sonic. “I brought you a lime slushy. I know how you like them. How do you feel?”

  “Hi,” Cassie said, her arm outstretched to receive the drink, anxious to taste the cool liquid, for it to soothe her parched throat. “God, that’s good. Thank you for this . . . I feel like . . . total crap.”

  “Well, that makes sense. You were hit by a truck! What’s the prognosis?” Jessica asked the nurse, who was standing up to leave.

  “She’s going to be fine, but it’s going to take time. She took a pretty good beating. She’s a lucky girl, that’s for sure.”

  “Thank God,” Jess sighed, the gravity of the situation hitting her fully. Her best friend could’ve died in a crosswalk of all places. It just wasn’t right.

  As the nurse left the room, she gave Cassie a wave and a wink, and said she’d be back soon to check in.

  “Seriously,” Jess started, “are you okay? Tell me the truth.”

  “I think so. I don’t really know. I hurt everywhere. Look at this leg,” Cassie motioned to the cast on her leg that covered her entire foot up to her knee, the traction she was in keeping it elevated at a forty-five-degree angle.

  “Good thing you snagged a girlfriend already . . . you’re a little hard to market right now!”

  “Yeah, good thing,” Cassie smiled. “Hey, where’s Rach? Do you know?”

  “I don’t, sorry, but I’m sure she’s on her way. Claire called me in a panic and I’m sure she called Rachel too . . . does she know her number?”

 

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