by A. K. Rose
“I . . . I honestly don’t think so, no. Could you do me a favor? Could you call her? Please?” Cassie surveyed her surroundings as she asked her favor. She was in a drab hospital room, wires and cords surrounding her, but thankfully none of them seemed to be inserted into her body. She felt the left side of her face tentatively, trying to determine what she might look like. She didn’t want to know.
“Of course. Here, let me call her and you can talk to her yourself. Where’s your phone?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cassie said, unsure. She really didn’t know. Nothing about her surroundings was familiar. Nothing about this day had been familiar.
“Okay, don’t worry about it. Hang tight. I’ll get her here.”
+ + +
Rachel was at her office when the call came. She was in the middle of extracting a tooth, so Crystal took a message and patiently waited until the tooth was removed before requesting a moment alone with the dentist.
“Cassie was in an accident,” Crystal said quietly, a look of genuine concern on her face. “She’s at the University Medical Center—Brack—and she’s okay, but she wants to see you.”
Rachel listened intently, her hand instinctively finding its way to her mouth, which was hanging agape in shock. It took a moment before she found some composure to reply.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Crystal said, matter of fact. “But I can cancel the rest of your appointments for the day. Go ahead, go see her.”
+ + +
Rachel Gifford drove as fast as her Lexus SUV would safely take her, caution in the back of her mind keeping her from being foolish and getting into an accident of her own. Stoplights were not on her side—it seemed she hit every light just as it turned red—and she sat impatiently waiting for permission to proceed each time she reached another. Her mind raced, her heart raced. She simply didn’t believe it to be true. How could this have happened? What would she find when she got to the hospital? It was terrifying.
She whipped into a marked spot, threw the SUV in park and bolted inside, handbag thrown over her shoulder, no coat, even though it was cold outside. Adrenaline was keeping her warm. She had to get to Cassie.
“Cassie Hollander?” Rachel questioned, out of breath, a look of despair washing over her face.
The nurse at the hospital’s check-in station saw it all the time. A loved one appearing out of the blue, flustered, unable to maintain their composure as they wondered what had happened to the person they were seeking. Once she gathered Rachel’s contact information and relationship to the patient, she calmly directed her to Cassie’s room, pointing down a long hallway behind her, and sent her off with a smile, “Good luck, honey. God bless.”
Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled as she smoothed the front of her blouse and set off to see Cassie. She approached room 608, unsure what she’d see once she stepped in. “Holy shit, Cass, are you okay?”
“I am now,” Cassie managed, arms outstretched and seeking a hug. She didn’t look okay. She looked like she’d been hit by a truck.
“I am so sorry . . . so, so sorry,” Rachel whispered as she gingerly took Cassie in her arms, careful not to cause more pain, not to brush tender, raw skin, unaware that Jessica Taylor was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room behind her.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too. What happened, really? And when can you go home?”
“I got hit by a truck in a crosswalk, apparently. I don’t remember it at all. They said I can go home in a couple days, I think. They just want to monitor me to make sure I don’t spontaneously combust . . . but I don’t know how I’m going to go home,” Cassie paused, pointing to the leg in traction, “how am I going to manage to drive a stick shift, use an elevator . . . deal with a long hallway with this thing?”
Cassie was practical. She was broken—very broken—but she also knew her lifestyle didn’t accommodate her new reality. Her apartment wasn’t handicap-friendly, her Jeep required the use of both feet. Her life as she knew it was changing, and changing fast.
“You’ll come home with me,” Rachel said without a second thought. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Rach, I don’t . . .”
“Nope. Don’t even start. You’re coming home with me, case closed.”
“Okay, but you really don’t have to do this, you know. I can go back to Houston to heal . . .”
“No. I was going to ask you to move in with me on the drive back from Thanksgiving with your family last week, but I chickened out. I want to live with you, broken leg or no broken leg, scars and scabs and bruises, and all. I want us to be together. You just happened to force the issue with your little escapade, that’s all.” Rachel smiled and kissed her girlfriend on the forehead. “It’ll be okay. Come live with me while you heal . . . and stay afterwards. I mean it. I’ll take care of getting your stuff from your apartment. No more high-rises for you.”
“I love you,” Cassie breathed, completely forgetting that Jess was still in the room with them.
“I love you,” Rachel said, holding Cassie’s normally busy, but now eerily still hands.
“You two are too much,” Jessica chimed in as she stood, an awkward smile on her face. “I think my work here is done—I’m going to leave so you can be alone. But Cass, if you need anything the good dentist here can’t provide, you know I’m only a call away, okay? I love you too, for what it’s worth. I’ll take a raincheck on Alejandro’s for when you can walk again . . .”
Jessica blew a kiss toward her friend and turned to go when a hand landed on her shoulder. Rachel stopped her before she could get out the door. “Hey, thank you,” she said, and offered Jess a sincere hug. Jessica had shown up first; Jess had made sure she’d been called. They were unlikely friends in this scenario, but their bond was growing. They shared a common interest, and that was all that mattered.
“No problem,” Jess replied, breaking the hug and disappearing into the hallway.
EIGHTEEN
As she left her best friend’s hospital room, Jessica said a silent prayer. She was so thankful Cassie would be okay. She walked straight past her car, a fog of confusion following her every step. Her stomach was in knots; she couldn’t place the feeling, and she couldn’t seem to make it stop. When she realized her mistake, she turned around and headed back towards where she thought her car was, unsure of where to go or what to do.
She’d left Cass with Rachel, but couldn’t beat down the thought that it could’ve been her helping her friend heal. She could’ve stepped up and offered to let Cassie move in, to take care of her while she recovered. That makes no sense, she scolded, clicking her key fob to try and locate her car. She finally found it, after minutes of mindless wandering.
As she drove back to the office, Jess wondered how much she’d see Cassie in the future. If she moved in with Rachel, the odds were that they were together for good. Or, at least for a good long while. She’d never seen Cassie show this kind of interest in anyone—except her. It was confusing and unsettling. Jessica realized something she didn’t want to realize: She was definitely jealous. And she had more than friends feelings developing for Cassie.
She’d known for a while; she’d just pushed them down and hidden them. Once Cassie planted the seed in her mind, it had been germinating, growing slowly, and had begun to peek over the surface into the realm of reality. The irony was, of course, she was straight. And Cassie had found her match. The timing was all wrong.
Jess put away her feelings and focused on the road, on getting back to work, and on anything she could that wasn’t her best friend.
+ + +
The doctors stuck to their word and let Cassie go home in two days, but home wasn’t her apartment.
As much as she’d have liked to go home, where she was most comfortable, it just wasn’t an option with a broken leg and her other injuries. Rachel took her to her house, carefully set her up on the couch with a good view of the TV, a
nd started compiling the laundry list of tasks she’d need to complete to get Cassie moved in for good. She wouldn’t be able to do it alone—breaking a lease and moving Cassie out of the high-rise would take some doing, but it didn’t need to be done right away. She knew now more than ever—she wanted this. It wasn’t how she’d intended to ask, it wasn’t how she wanted it to happen, but they were moving in together, courtesy of a redneck in a pickup that didn’t see Cassie in a crosswalk.
Marion Hollander had arrived in a frenzy the day she was released while Cassie was still asleep, a Tasmanian devil packaged up in a bossy Texas momma persona. Her daughter was hurting, and when either of her daughters were hurting, she was there on the front lines, trying her best to make it all better. Life in Houston could wait while she tended to Cassie, and that’s exactly what she intended to do. She’d been bustling around Rachel’s house for a few hours and was adding water to a bouquet of flowers Jennifer had sent when Cassie finally woke, her leg throbbing and face on fire from the abrasions.
“Mom? When did you get here?” Cassie asked, groggy and confused. She didn’t even know how she got there. She vaguely remembered being loaded into Rachel’s Lexus, but the pain pills must have worked a number on her, because she didn’t remember getting out or being helped to the couch. She knew immediately she didn’t like the situation, not one bit. She felt helpless, and if there was one thing she wasn’t, it was needy.
“Oh, I’ve been here for hours, sweetie. Rachel let me in and then went to work; she cancelled her morning patients but had to see a few this afternoon. How are you feeling?” Marion was fluffing the pillow under Cassie’s leg, making sure she kept it propped up at just the right angle.
“Eh. Not great, to be honest. I certainly didn’t have this in my plans . . .”
“Well you know, God works in mysterious ways,” Marion started, her eternal optimism and faith shining through. “We don’t know why this happened to you, but you never know, someday we might.”
Right, Cassie thought, God works in mysterious ways. It’s not the time; just let it go . . .
“Oh, you know, Claire’s sorry she couldn’t make it, but she told me to dote on you for her . . .” Marion continued, filling the silence as she always did, poised to start some family gossip chain, it was all but certain.
“Uh huh . . .” Cassie said blankly, as her mother continued, staring past the TV playing a rotisserie cooker infomercial to the large oak tree in the backyard. She’d seen that tree at least a dozen times now, but today, it looked more majestic than ever. The tree was impressive, grounding. It reminded her that nature was strong; nature could overcome. That tree had lived for over a hundred years, she was sure of it. Through floods and droughts and tornadoes, the tree stood proud. It had lost limbs and still thrived in the face of adversity. She could do the same. This was nothing more than a bump in the road, and she could learn from the tree to be strong and persevere. “Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know? I’m glad to see you, but I’ll be okay. You can go home if you want.”
“Don’t be silly! I’m not going home, not yet. I just got here! Let me be your mother for a couple of days, okay? Let me take care of you. You may be all grown up, but I can still take care of you, especially right now while you’re hurting.” Marion patted Cassie’s good leg and started to walk to the kitchen.
“Okay, if you insist . . . thank you.” Cassie didn’t have the strength to fight, not now. She continued looking at the tree until her mom came back with a glass of water and two pieces of toast.
“Here you go, you need to eat and drink,” Marion said, pulling up a side chair next to the couch. “Now, tell me about what’s going on with you and Rachel.”
“Mom!”
“Sweetie, I want to know. Clearly you two care for each other—you’re on her couch instead of your own. So, tell me.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell, really,” Cassie demurred. Of course there was a lot to tell. Just not much to tell her mother, that’s all. “I can’t really go back to my apartment like this, and I can’t drive, so she offered to let me stay here until I get back on my feet. Literally.”
“Is that all?”
“No, not really . . .” Cassie admitted, looking away. Since when did her mother have such an interest in her love life? This was awkward. She knew her mom didn’t approve of her lifestyle, but perhaps she was changing? Stranger things had been known to happen. “I’m not going to move out when I’m better . . . I’m going to stay. She asked me to stay and I said yes.”
Was that a smile on Marion’s face? It sure looked like it. “That’s wonderful, honey. Really. Do you think you love her?”
“This is a really weird conversation; you know that? I’m lying on my girlfriend’s couch with a broken leg and disfigured face talking to my religious mother about my love life . . . how many of those pain pills did I take?”
“Listen,” Marion said, a serious tone taking over, an indication that she was about to give one of her signature speeches, “I know I’ve made it hard on you over the years, to be . . . um . . . who you are, but I’m trying, Cass. I really am. I know this isn’t a choice you made, and I know it can’t be changed. I haven’t always shown that, and I haven’t always made it easy on you, but I’m growing. I love you for you, and that’s what’s important. And, I just want you to be happy. To be with someone who makes you happy and who will care for you, who will love you. Life’s short, you know, and you have to do what it takes to make sure you’re happy—you have to, or you’ll get to be an old lady like me and you’ll look back on your life with regrets. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I do,” Cassie nodded between bites of toast with butter and jam, just like she liked it. Her mother knew how to do some things just right.
“Good, then, do you love her?”
“I do.”
“Then, you listen to me,” Marion leaned in closer, putting her hand on her daughter’s arm to really send her point home. “You make sure she knows that. Don’t just tell her, show her. Time will pass and you’ll get comfortable together, you’ll think she knows, but trust me, don’t get complacent. I loved your daddy very much, but I realized as soon as he was gone, I never let him know how much. I took it for granted that he knew, and he did the same. We got caught up in the routine of work and raising children and bills and . . . life. Now, I’d give anything to have one more chance to show him. Don’t make my mistakes, Cass. If you love her, make sure she always knows it.”
“Mom . . . that’s . . . that’s amazing advice, thank you. So, are you saying you’re okay with this? With us? I mean, I’m going to live with a woman. What will your friends say?”
“Who cares what my friends say? It’s not their life. It’s your life, and if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Who is this woman? Cassie wondered, taking in the advice her mother had just given. She looked like her mom, she sounded like her mom, but the words coming out were foreign. She could swear that her mother just gave her permission to move in with her girlfriend, even though she wasn’t seeking approval.
“Okay, thank you,” Cassie managed, bewilderment still filling her brain. Had her accident been an awakening for her mother? Perhaps it was. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to rock the boat.
+ + +
After a couple of weeks, Cassie was hobbling around Rachel’s ranch-style house with relative ease. The pain on her face had subsided; her wounds were reduced to a variety of small scabs and scratches. She had hope that her normally fair complexion would be back soon. She’d been slathering her face with scar-treatment multiple times a day. If she was lucky, her face wouldn’t show what her body had been through. Her mind, of course, was another story. It would be scarred for a good long while.
Her leg wasn’t in as good of shape as her face, its formerly muscular mass shrinking by the day, the fiberglass cast becoming more and more annoying as the diameter of her calf shrunk
and the weight of the cast bared down on her ankle. She hated that cast; she hated the man who did this to her. She oscillated between feelings of gratefulness to be alive and sheer anger and rage at the situation. It was the holiday season, and she was missing out on the tidings of comfort and joy because she didn’t feel particularly comfortable or joyous most days.
As the month rolled on and Cassie spent more and more time away from work on medical leave, her mind focused on the actual accident—what led up to it and what happened after. She had time to replay it over and over; she had time to wonder what life would be like right now if she’d left that coffee shop a split second sooner or later. Or, if she’d never been there to begin with. It wasn’t part of her normal routine, after all. Jennifer appeared out of the blue and asked for her help. What if that hadn’t happened? She was briefly angry at her cousin’s wife for interrupting her routine but managed to put that anger away—it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except the man driving the truck. He hadn’t even apologized. He just went about his life as if it had never happened, not even paying the price in an auto insurance rate hike—he had no insurance and walked away unpunished.
Reviewing the what ifs and whys was getting her nowhere and she had a choice to make. She could keep dwelling on the past—living in the past—or she could let it go. She could accept reality. Reality was that she was alive, and that was a good place to be. Reality was that her life was different in the present, but the future was full of opportunity. She wouldn’t be in the cast forever. The pain wouldn’t last forever, in fact, it had subsided considerably already.
Now what? Cassie thought as she hobbled back to her familiar spot on Rachel’s couch from her hourly “walk” through the house. It was late afternoon; Rachel wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours. She’d exhausted her Netflix queue. She’d read almost everything on her book list. It had only been two weeks and she was itching to get back to work, to have something important to fill her time. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. Work was a helpful distraction; it always had been. Since she couldn’t go back to her actual job for another month, at the soonest, she decided to find something else to fill her time. She wasn’t exactly in the holiday spirit, even though Christmas was looming in the near future.