“Macen, you okay?” It’s Caspian. Great, that’s all I need.
Reid turns and leaves, not saying a word to Caspian as he passes him. Caspian crouches down to me, helping me gather the fallen items “Hey, are you okay? What happened? Did he do this to you?” I look at him, “I’m really sorry about this, these will all have to be thrown away now, Caspian. What a waste.”
He looks angry. “I don’t give a shit about these things, Macen. Now, did he do this to you? Did he hurt you?”
I’ve caused enough trouble. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He startled my grabbing my arm as I was trying to get past him. He blocked my way, Caspian. But I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”
“Fuck,” he says. “Are you okay to start work, or do you want to go home? I’ll still pay you if you want to leave your shift today.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine to work. I’ll just get what I need and get to my station. Can you do me a favor and throw these out for me?” I smile at him, and he shakes his head then gets up and waits for me.
At my workstation, I tell Louis about what just happened. I can feel Reid watching us. Is it hate he has for me? Or does he just like intimidating me? Or is he somehow fixated on me, and he doesn't like me talking to anyone else? I find the last scenario hard to believe. I also tell Louis about the shifts being changed so we don't work the same ones. He agrees it's a good idea for now.
“I still don't trust him, Macen. You keep an eye on him, and if he steps a foot wrong, you tell me, and I'll sort him, do you hear me?” I don’t want Louis getting in trouble for me. I just nod.
The day goes by without incident. I see Caspian quite a few times as he's head chef today. Every time he looks at me, my heart skips a beat, and I get butterflies. The thing is, every time he looks at me, I feel it, and I look at him, then I have to quickly look away, embarrassed that he's seen me looking at him. I don't look Reid's way once. I'm saying goodbye to Louis and some of the team and just heading out the back when Caspian catches up with me. “Macen, thanks for the notes on the dishes you tried. I'm going to try your recommendation of using cilantro and see how it turns out. I appreciate your suggestions and your comments.” I blush because he’s taking me seriously. “How has your shift been? Any problems? Any more incidents with Reid? I’ve tried to keep an eye on him today.” I start to walk towards the back door to leave. “Macen,” he says very assertively.
I stop and turn to face him. I notice Reid behind him, watching us. Caspian notices me looking past him and turns to see what I’m looking at. “Goodnight Mr. Kade,” I say walking off, rushing to get in a cab as quick as I can and get away from here.
I hail a cab in my usual spot and sigh with relief as I lean back in the seat. I automatically look across the street just to make sure Reid isn't there watching me. Caspian must be talking to him while I get away. I need my bed and to and spend quality time this weekend with Dixon and Grandma.
Caspian
ONCE I GET back to my hotel in Vegas, I head straight to one of the bars for some whiskey — neat. I’m in bed, in my suite, with my laptop and more whiskey, and I decide to search what happened to me when I was four. If my poppa can't tell me, then, I will find out for myself. I need to know if it’s true, but I’m also terrified to find out the truth. I do a quick search: Home invasion, Florida, Kade, and fuck me, there is article after article on homicide, home invasion, child abduction, sexual assault, although not for Kade, but for Kaden. I click on a piece to read anyway.
Maybe this is a bad idea — maybe I should just leave it and not find out. Isn't ignorance bliss? Isn’t it better to just leave it that way if I've come this far in my life without knowing? I wonder if not remembering is my way of coping — blocking all the bad things out.
I take a big gulp of whiskey for courage, then start to read.
Homicide and Child Abduction in a sleepy town in Polk County
A mother, Steffanie Kaden, and her four-year-old son were disturbed in a home invasion in Polk County in the early hours of Monday morning. Steffanie was brutally attacked in her bed while she slept: sexually assaulted, then murdered. The intruders cut her throat after stabbing her multiple times in the chest in what the police are saying was a frenzied attack. Her son, Casper, was taken from his bed while he slept. Steffanie's husband, Charles Kaden, was working a night shift at the water utility compound and found his wife dead when he returned home at five a.m. after his shift. His son was missing.
Eyewitnesses say that Mr. Kade ran around the neighborhood screaming for Casper and it was this act that saved Casper's life. The young boy started screaming for his poppa when he heard him shouting his name, and one of the neighbors heard it.
The neighbor alerted the attending police, and they entered the house, where they found Casper on the floor crying. The couple, who have been named as Dana and Rexford Sotton, both aged forty-three, were both on the premises. Eyewitnesses say there were three gunshots fired. Both Dana and Rexford Sotton were shot by law enforcement. One officer suffered a gunshot wound to his arm and was taken away in an ambulance. We were told he was released from the hospital yesterday.
Eyewitnesses say a female officer took Casper to his house to wait for another ambulance to arrive. He was then taken, along with Mr. Kaden, to The Heart of Florida Regional Medical Centre in Davenport. Casper has not been released from the hospital yet.
The Sheriff's department released a statement confirming two people had been shot and killed by armed officers in their home after officers entered on suspicion of abduction, murder, and sexual assault. The officers were shot at and had no choice but to open fire. Casper Kaden was unharmed in the shooting, but it’s been confirmed he was sexually assaulted and has sustained internal damage from his attackers. Mr. and Mrs. Sotton’s blood-soaked clothes were tested, and the results confirmed it was the blood of Mrs. Steffanie Kaden. They confirmed that on entering the house, Mr. Rexford Sotton was on the floor with Casper, and Mrs. Dana Sotton was standing over them. She had a gun in her hand, and she turned and fired at the officer's when they entered. One officer did sustain a gunshot injury but is now resting at home. He also confirmed that the other officer did shoot both Mr. and Mrs. Sotton.
Fucking hell. I can’t breathe. This is me they are talking about — this was my momma and me. I can’t believe I have no idea about any of this. I don’t remember anything. It doesn’t compute that it’s me I’m reading about. It just feels like a story or a news article about someone else. Why did they keep referring to me as Casper, not Caspian and the surname as Kaden? Come to think of it, my poppa shouted Casper when he tried to catch up with me. I’m so confused — is this definitely about me — my family? The picture in the article is me — I don't remember my momma, but that's definitely my poppa, and you can't mistake I’m his son. I’m the spit from his mouth as they say. Why has no one ever asked me about this? The media and TMZ usually dig up anything they can on celebrities. Why has this never been brought up? Is it because of the different names? But the names are so close: Casper Kaden and Caspian Kade.
I drink more from my whiskey bottle, and read a few more articles, which all back up the original one. I get to an article, written two months after the tragedy, which I'm sorry I start. It says Rexford Sotton sexually abused me — they caught him with his dick in me. I feel sick — I run to the bathroom and throw up. He sodomized me. I was four fucking years old. He fucking did that to me, and he killed my momma, and then my poppa just threw me away after all that. No wonder I don't remember anything. I must have shut it all out — my way of coping with it.
I get back into bed, take another gulp of whiskey, then sit, trying to rack my brain.
I wake up with a bit of a start at my six a.m. alarm. The whiskey had obviously helped me sleep because I went out like a light and didn't wake once.
It all comes flooding back to me: meeting my poppa, and then all the stuff about my past. I feel sick. I rush into the bathroom, and I heave, but nothing comes up.
I stand at his door, contemplating if I want to do this. I’ve found out everything I needed to know — all except why he didn't come back for me. That’s the only reason I’m standing here. I’m just about to knock when the door opens. He’s dressed and ready for breakfast.
“I was thinking, maybe we just eat in here and order room service. I don't know if we will get any privacy downstairs and the last thing I need is to lose my rag over anything and end up in the tabloids.”
He cocks his head to the side slightly. Fuck, that's exactly what I do when I'm trying to comprehend something. He looks puzzled. “Yes, yes, of course, come in. Let’s order in; but why would you end up in the tabloids? You said something like that last night, and I didn't understand then. Casper, are you in trouble or something?”
He has no clue who I am. Asswipe, doesn’t know he has a famous son. That's why he never came looking for me. If he’d known, I bet he would have come knocking sooner, looking for handouts.
“Why do you keep calling me Casper? I read a news article last night about what happened to us, and they kept calling me Casper?”
He looks at me again, cocking his head again. “It's your name, son. You're confusing me now.”
He's confused? Try being in my shoes, old man. “No, my name is Caspian, and do you honestly not know who I am? You have never heard my name mentioned anywhere?”
“I’m so lost with this conversation. You are Casper Kaden, and you are my son. Of course, I know who you are!”
I run my hand over my face, up to my hair, then over my head, as I sigh out. “Let's order breakfast then sort this shit out, or we won't have enough time.”
We position ourselves in his room, in the same seats as last night. “Right, my name is Caspian Kade. I own a famous restaurant in New York City, on 5th Avenue, called Casper's. I live in New York City, where I have done for some years now. I also had a slot on Good Morning America for a while, cooking dishes. I'm what they call a celebrity chef. I'm the youngest, 3-star Michelin chef in the world.”
He looks at me, bewildered, and runs his hand over his face up to his head. “Oh,” is all he says. Surely there’s no way he didn't know who I am. I mean, come on, we’re so alike it’s unreal. “That's it? Oh? Are you telling me you didn't know who I am?”
“No, son, I'm not one for TV and especially not in the mornings. Yes, I've been to New York a lot of times, but I have never seen your restaurant. Maybe the Child Protection Services changed your name when they took you away from me? Maybe they didn't want me to find you or for your past to come back to you in any way? I don't know, son. I didn't know it had been changed, but it does explain why they couldn't find you when I went to the CPS to look for you.”
“Wait, what? You looked for me? You tried to find me?”
He nods his head, yes. “Not for a few years, son. I was a drunk, and I took drugs, I ended up on the streets for a couple of years. I couldn't look after myself, never mind a little boy. I almost died and ended up in the hospital. That's where I met this amazing woman who helped me. She took me in and helped me get sober. I got straight and clean eventually, but it took a long time. You would have been about twelve by then. I needed to find you. You were my son, and I loved you so much, so, I went to the CPS to try and find you. To see if I could see you and try to get you back living with me. Each time I went, they said they couldn't find a Casper Kaden on their records, and there was nothing they could do to help. I didn't know what to do or where to go. I’ve never forgotten you, son. I’ve thought about you everyday since my life turn around. I wish I could have found you.” He hangs his head just as there’s a knock at the door — room service with our breakfast.
Neither of us speaks as we eat our breakfast. I’m trying to process what he’s just told me. He tried to find me. He didn't forget about me. Fuck me. Do I believe him? I think I do. I don’t know him, but he seems so remorseful and genuine.
I need to leave. I need some time to think before I jump on the plane, and I know he has a flight to catch. I don’t even know where he lives, what he does or anything really — fuck I know nothing about this stranger in front of me. Do I want to know him? Do I want to know who he is and all his personal shit? Do I want to know if he has a new family? If I have any siblings? Fuck I’m so mixed up. I need to get out of here. I stand suddenly, turning on the spot, looking at the door, to my escape, ready to walk out without a word.
“Look, son, I know it's a lot to take in, and one part of me wishes we hadn't met so you would never have known what had happened. The other part, in here,” he says tapping over his heart, “it says yesterday was one of the best days of my life. Seeing you all grown up and successful fills my heart with so much pride. I’m so proud of you, son. I know you will think I don't have a right to be proud, but you're my son, and I love you more than life itself, and I always have. The tragedy that happened that night has impacted all our lives for so long. It kills me when I think about your momma and what happened to you and how it tore us apart. I can't take it all back, but I can try to make some amends if you’ll let me.”
He takes a drink of his coffee, gets up, and starts to grab his bags. I face him. “Look, I'm not making any promises here, old man. I don't know you — you're a stranger to me. I don't remember anything from back then except you shouting at me all the time. For some reason, that is the only memory I have, and it's going to take me some time to process all this shit. If you give me your details, then maybe I’ll contact you, but I’m not promising anything. Maybe I’ll want to keep things as they were — maybe we will both be better as it was.”
He looks pained at what I’m saying, which makes me feel like a fucking ass. “Look, I don't know, okay, but I need time to process.”
We both walk out together and ride the elevator to the lobby, where he checks out. I stand watching him. I can see so many of my mannerisms in him. He comes over and gives me a piece of paper with his details on. I take it from him without looking at it and put it into my back pocket. “You will never know what meeting you has meant to me, son. I really hope you call me.” I don’t say a word. I let him walk out of the hotel to catch his flight. I feel numb and confused about everything. I need to try and digest it all and decide where to go from here.
FUCKING REID. I wanted to talk to Macen. I wanted to make sure she was okay. I just wanted to talk to her. My feelings are so strong for her. Every time I see her I fall harder. Coming back from Vegas, I thought about her and how I would love nothing more than to tell her what had happened — to have her comfort me and tell me what to do.
When she walked into my office earlier, I melted like a fucking wuss. I was elated, but I had to control myself. I had to be an ass to her. She nearly walked out, and I panicked because there is no way she could leave. Not yet. I wasn’t ready to let her go.
Then this, just now with fucking Reid. He’s going for sure. I saw the horror on Macen’s face as she looked past me over my shoulder, and I knew he was there, I knew it was him that made her look terrified. I need to sort this out now. With this on top of what I just learned in Vegas; my life is going to shit. Fuck why is my life suddenly so complicated?
Macen
LYING AWAKE IN bed, all I can think about is Caspian. He was a bit of an ass to me today, and his tone was very forceful but also supportive in allowing the shift change and giving me the benefit of the doubt.
I wake up to Dixon pouncing on me. “Oh, Dixon, Momma’s tired please let me sleep.” He gets into bed next to me. I turn towards him, and we lay face to face. I can just see the clock over his head, and it's 9.27 a.m. I thought it was earlier than that. “Guess it's time to get up, hey, monkey? Where's Grandma?”
He nods. “She's in the kitchen, finishing her breakfast
. I ate all mine up, Momma. What are we doing today?”
“Let me get up and showered then we can sit and decide what to do. How about that, monkey?”
I tickle him, and he rolls around in fits of giggles. “Stop, Momma, stop.” He gets off the bed and heads out of my room.
We’re all sitting in the kitchen while I eat my toast and have coffee and Dixon is trying to decide what he would like to do today. “How about we go to the Museum of Natural History so you can get a refresher on all the dinosaurs ready for your party next week? I’m going to be working next weekend so now would be a good time. What do you say?” He loves the museum, and we go a few times a year.
“Oh, I would love to do that, Dixon. I have never been to the museum, and you can tell me all about the dinosaurs we see.”
He grins at Grandma. “Yes, let's go there, Momma, then I can teach Grandma all about the dinosaurs.”
We walk straight through Central Park to the museum. In the park, I get the feeling of being watched again, and I turn around, scanning everyone I can see, but again, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.
“You okay, Macen?” Grandma has stopped ahead of me.
I walk to her. “Yeah, just getting that feeling again.” I give her the look, hoping she knows what I'm talking about without saying it in front of Dixon. She nods at me, and she also looks around us before we continue to the museum.
We spend almost all day in the museum. Dixon and Grandma love it. He tells her all about each dinosaur, and she is really impressed with his knowledge. Grandma wants to treat us to dinner out, and Dixon decides he wants pizza, so we try the new Gotham Pizza place on 1st Avenue, which isn’t too far from home. I get the same feeling as before, that I’m being watched, and it’s really starting to freak me out. Grandma notices me picking up the pace and looking around again because I have hold of Dixon's hand, and he has hold of Grandma’s hand.
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