by Jamie Pope
Teo beamed at her and that little painful twinge bloomed into a full-blown one. She ignored it. She had to. She had been avoiding feeling this kind of pain for so long that she ceased to feel anything at all.
“Okay. Write four more and then let’s practice reading these words.”
“How did your husband die?” he asked out of nowhere a few minutes later.
“What a morbid question for a five-year-old. Why do you want to know?”
“Mansi says it makes a difference how people die when they are young. Mansi’s brother died in the war, so he’s a hero. My grandmother drank too much and died because of that, and that’s a bad way to die. My dad is dead too. My mom says he got hit by a Mack truck and that he probably had it coming, because he was an asshole.”
“You shouldn’t curse.” Cassandra shook her head, uncomfortable with the conversation, with how and why Teo knew so much. “And they shouldn’t talk about such things with you.”
“Why not? I’m going to find out anyway. How did your husband die?”
“He was shot,” she told him because she couldn’t lie to him. “He was trying to save me.”
“So he was a hero?”
“Yes.”
“You’re proud of him.”
“I am. Very.”
“See? That’s a good thing.”
* * *
Wylie arrived at Mansi’s house a little later than usual. He and Tanner had worked all day to make the room he chose for Cass habitable. They had to replace one of the windows and clear out what must have been forty years of old junk, but the room was looking better. Not ready for her, but better. He wanted to give it a fresh coat of paint and get her a nice bedspread and new sheets before he showed it to her.
He was kind of glad that Cassandra had burrowed herself under his skin. It gave him the push he needed to fix up the rest of the house.
“Thanks again for today, Tanner. It would have taken me weeks to get it done alone.”
“No problem. I was thinking it was time we start to give the guys a little more freedom. I think they can handle it. I can help you tomorrow too.”
“That would be great. I was going to take Teo and Cass out for ice cream, but let me take you all out to dinner.”
Nova’s Jeep came roaring up behind them, blasting some Beyoncé song. She locked eyes with him through the windshield as she put her car in park. He was pretty sure she only blasted the music for his benefit. He had said something to her once about it. That turned out to be a mistake, because now every time she saw him, she turned her music up.
“She’s such a goddamn kid.”
Tanner said nothing, but Wylie couldn’t help but notice how the man’s eyes never left Nova as she jumped out of her Jeep and walked toward his truck. She had on a tight white T-shirt and tight black pants; her heels were so high, he was surprised she hadn’t broken her neck. Part of him wanted to smack Tanner for staring, but he couldn’t blame the man for looking at his sister. All men looked at his sister.
“Hey, bro,” she said to him as he got out of his truck. “Hey, tall, dark and dummy,” she said to Tanner as she looked him over.
“Real mature, Nova.” Tanner shook his head. “How old are you anyway? Wait, don’t answer. I shouldn’t have asked. I know you can’t count that high.”
“I’d slap you for saying that, but I don’t want to be arrested for animal abuse.”
“Ouch, Nova, that one stung. I’m impressed. I’ve never met someone with such a small mind inside such a big head before.”
“I don’t have a big head!”
Wylie walked away from them and went inside the house. He had witnessed their arguments before. They could go at it for hours.
“Hello, Miss Mansi. How are you today?” He bent to kiss the older woman’s cheek.
“Just fine, Alabama.”
“Would you like to come out to dinner tonight? Nova just pulled up, so she’s probably going to come along, but I was going to take Tanner, Cass and Teo.”
“You know I don’t like to go out to eat. Gives me indigestion. But take the boy. He took Cass to the beach about an hour ago.”
“Cass went out with Teo?”
“He said he wanted to show her something. They left through the back door.”
There was a tiny strip of a beach about a ten-minute walk from Mansi’s cottage. In his mind he knew they would be fine when he found them, but he couldn’t stop his heart from racing at the thought of Cass and Teo alone. Teo was high energy, and while Cass said she was ready to take on more, he wasn’t sure the company of a kindergartner was what she needed right now. But as he came up to them, he realized he had no idea what Cass needed right now. They were sitting in the sand, side by side, Teo leaning against Cass. The last time he had found them together, it had been in bed, Teo curled against Cass, like he had known her forever.
Kids had always been drawn to her. She had this way about her that seemed to invite them and make them feel welcome. He knew she was one hell of a teacher. And he knew she would have made a hell of a great mother, given the chance.
“The belly goes the other way on a lowercase b,” Wylie heard Cass say. As he got closer, he could see that Teo had a stick and was writing in the sand. That alone made him pause. Getting Teo to do his homework was like pulling teeth. His mother couldn’t get him to do it without a fight. Mansi didn’t take any fooling around from Teo, but even with her, Teo struggled to get things done. But here he was with Cass, voluntarily writing letters.
“I get confused sometimes. I never know which way is right.”
“Want to know a trick?” She took the stick and drew an uppercase B in the sand. “If you get stuck write an uppercase B and erase the hump on top. And ta-da!” She erased the hump. “Lowercase b.”
“That’s cool. How do you know so much stuff?”
“I was a teacher, but I don’t do that anymore.”
“Why not? You’re good.”
“Thank you.” She tousled his hair. “I got sad when my husband died and I didn’t want to do it anymore.”
“I don’t wanna do stuff when I’m sad either. Maybe one day you won’t be sad no more.”
“Maybe I won’t. Being sad kind of sucks.”
“Hey,” Wylie said, making his presence known. “You guys want to go out to dinner? I think your mom and Tanner are going to come.”
“Mommy’s going to come?” Teo looked up at him so hopefully that it almost broke his damn heart.
“Yeah. I’ll make sure she does.”
“Did she say that?” Teo knew his mother, and while Nova wasn’t one to break promises to him, she wasn’t prone to make them either.
“She’s at the house. You tell her that I said I’m taking you all out to dinner and she’d better be ready in ten minutes.”
“Okay.” He grinned at him. “She doesn’t like it when you boss her around.”
“Well, I’m the big brother, so I get to. Now go on and tell her what I said.”
Teo took off, leaving Wylie alone with Cass. She was quiet, staring thoughtfully at the letter B still left in the sand.
“Are you all right?”
She stood up and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. As soon as her body came into contact with his, that same rush, that heat, that excitement, which he always felt, came over him. Thank God he was fixing up her room. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand her closeness. Once again he was questioning his judgment in bringing her here. He knew he hadn’t done it just for her. He had brought her here for himself, and he knew his self-control wouldn’t last long.
“Talk to me, Cass.” He slowly ran his hands down her back.
“I like him,” she said softly.
“Who? Teo?”
“Yes, but he knows too much.”
“Was he being fresh? I’ll get on him for that.”
“No.” She shook her head and looked up at him. “He wasn’t being fresh. He knows too much about life and death and loss.
He’s only five. A baby. He shouldn’t know so much.”
“No, but I think growing up too fast is one of the hazards of being born into my family. What were you two talking about anyway?”
“He asked me about Terrance. He wanted to know how he died.”
Wylie swore under his breath. “What did you tell him?”
“The truth. He died trying to save me. I feel bad. Not for telling him, but for how he responded. He made me feel comforted and sad all at the same time. There is so much of him that reminds me of the boys I taught, but there is an old soul in him too.” She buried her face in his chest again and sighed. “I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Ignore me. I’m being crazy.”
“You’re not.” He kissed her nose. “Let me take you to dinner. What do you feel like eating?”
“Ribs and French fries. And beer. Dark beer, like I used to drink in college.”
“That’s doable.” He grinned at her. “In fact, that sounds amazing.”
* * *
Cassandra stared at the wall very early that next morning, sleep escaping her. The previous day’s thoughts filled her head in a never-ending flow. She had gone out to dinner. She had sat at a table in a low-key barbecue joint and ordered the most decadent thing on the menu. She drank beer. She had dessert. She listened to stories. She had enjoyed herself.
Really and truly enjoyed herself.
And she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. Terrance and she had a small group of couples they sometimes socialized with. They went out to quiet dinners at five-star restaurants, saw plays, had wine tastings and toured museums. They had conversations about politics and cultural happenings. She liked those people. She liked Terrance’s friends. She found them interesting, but she always felt a little out of place with them. Like the simple schoolteacher was putting on airs just to keep up with the cool kids.
Then there was tonight. Everyone ate with their hands and laughed freely and loudly. They talked about television shows and action movies they had enjoyed. She watched Tanner and Nova trade barbs across the table and look at each other with hot looks that were barely disguised. Teo babbled happily about nothing and knocked his apple juice all over the table. She left there sticky, and tipsy and overfull. She had a good time, even though that cloud of sadness never fully lifted from her shoulders. She enjoyed herself and she never once felt out of place, or worried about her elbows on the table or what she said or what anybody was thinking of her.
And she felt guilty for that. She felt guilty for having a better time with a messy five-year-old, two bickering adults and the man who broke her heart than with Terrance, her best friend and the man whom she chose to devote her life to.
She snuggled closer to Wylie. He hadn’t come to bed until late; when he did, he stayed far away from her, his back turned to her, as if he didn’t want to touch her at all. She was confused by that, by him. He touched her, whenever he was around her. He touched her like he couldn’t help but touch her.
Last night at dinner his fingertips had grazed the bare skin of her arm; his hand had settled on her knee; when he spoke to her, it was always close to her ear, his breath always tickling her skin. Every touch, every Alabama-accented soft word he spoke, sent a dozen sensations along her nerves. It reminded her that she was alive, that it felt good to be able to feel.
Then there was tonight, when he lay on the other side of the bed, when she couldn’t feel his warmth, when she had to reach out to touch him. It was like her security blanket was gone. But he was back now. His body wrapped around her, his hands underneath her nightgown, one cupping her belly, the other her breast. He was hard. She could feel his erection prodding her backside. She thought back to yesterday morning, when she held him in her hand, when she dreamed about them on his couch, making love. She remembered how he felt on top of her, the way he pressed his hardness into her to show her how much he wanted her. Or maybe he didn’t want her. He had flung himself away from her. He didn’t try to make love to her. He turned away from her last night. He had walked away from her ten years ago. Maybe she was just another woman in his bed. Maybe he was a man who reacted like any other man when in close proximity to a nearly naked woman.
Still, she pushed herself closer, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel more of his arousal because it mirrored her own. She was damp with want, throbbing between her legs; her nipples were hard little points, begging to be touched.
She had always liked sex, to be touched and kissed and loved, the closeness with somebody else. But she hadn’t had sex in so long, even before Terrance had died. And she knew the last time she was made love to, because it was the day she had conceived her baby.
She shut that thought out by wrapping her hand around the one that was cupping her breast. The feeling of his rough skin, scraping her sensitive flesh, made her desire spike a few notches. He let out a little moan in his sleep and squeezed her breast. His lips came to rest in the crook of her neck; the hand that was on her belly slipped down to her hip, where he shifted her. She knew what was coming. He would peel away her panties, so that she would be bare to him, and he’d touch her, rubbing her in that aching spot with his thick fingers, making her even more ready for when he slid inside. They had made love like this before. Sleepy, slow, languorous, luxurious.
Luxurious because it was a luxury to be so close, so intimate. It was luxury because she only ever felt that good with him.
He rubbed against her, seeking her opening, only to find that there were barriers between them, her panties and his boxers.
“Fuck,” he swore violently. “Shit.” He tore himself away from her completely, leaving the bed. He stood over her for a moment, just looking, and in his eyes she could see anger, regret and pain. There were too many emotions there and she wondered what was going on in his brain.
And just as she was about to ask, he grabbed his discarded clothes from the night before and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 10
Wylie rolled down the windows in his truck. He had been overheated for hours, but that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. Cass had made him hot. But now as the sun went higher in the sky, he was starting to feel the actual heat of the day. It was hotter than normal for mid-September; the temperature was creeping up to nearly eighty and it wasn’t even nine A.M. yet. It was going to be a warm day, but he didn’t care how hot it became in the room he was fixing up for Cass. He needed her out of his bed as soon as possible.
He couldn’t blame her for what almost happened that morning. He had his hands on her breast; his erection had been poking her backside. He had crossed the boundary that he had set for himself last night. He found her in his sleep. He started to make love to her in his sleep. They were like magnets—always attracted to one another, always a little difficult to separate, always giving in to that pull.
He left the house before sunrise. He had to. He had to get away from her. Jumping into a cold shower and stroking himself to completion wasn’t enough. He had been in a dangerous mood. If he was close to her, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself, so he drove around the island. He stopped at Mansi’s house, because he knew the old woman was up by five. He showered there. Saw that Nova had spent the night there and dropped Teo off at school. All of that. All of the distraction and distance didn’t help. He still wanted her. He hurt with it: his teeth, his head, his heart.
And the only thought that kept going on in his head: Things would be different if I hadn’t left.
He finally returned to his house. He had to get Cass and drop her off at Mansi’s so that he could meet Tanner at ten to work on the house. But when he went upstairs, she wasn’t there. Not in the bathroom, kitchen or any of the spare bedrooms. He ran down the stairs, with his heart knocking against his rib cage.
Had she left him? Had she walked away? Her mother had overnighted some of her things: her wallet and her cell phone. When he walked toward the door, he saw that they were still sitting in the box wh
ere she had left them last night.
He went outside, standing there for a moment, trying to fight the fear that was choking him. She was healing, growing stronger every day, but she wasn’t strong enough yet. And he had mistreated her. Touched her body like it was still his to enjoy; then he walked away from her again, but this time it was for hours and not for years.
Maybe she was smarter than he was. Maybe she knew that this situation, her living with him for an undetermined amount of time, was a stupid plan. But then he noticed the footprints. There were bare footprints on the sandy path that led to the little beach he owned.
He forced himself to calm, for the panic to seep away as he followed those tracks. He found her, splashing in the water, just dressed in her simple white bra and little cotton panties. He grew hard all over again. Overheated. He knew he should give her this time, give her some privacy, and then wait for her back at the house, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. His feet forced him forward, toward her.
She heard him approach and froze, before slowly turning around to face him. “Hi.” She folded her arms across her chest as if trying to hide from him.
He sat on the sand, slipped off his socks and boots so he could feel the cool, still-damp earth beneath his toes.
“You said I could come here if I wanted,” she said defensively. “That this could be my place too.”
“I did,” he agreed. “Do you want to be alone?”
He wanted her to say no. He willed her to say no; but if she asked him, he would leave. He didn’t deserve to be around her in that moment.
“I didn’t want you to see me in my underwear.”
“I’ve seen you naked,” he reminded her. “Recently too. Why are you worried about your underwear?”
“They look bad.” She looked down at herself. “I’m awake enough to realize that now and I’m thoroughly embarrassed by it.”
“They don’t look so bad. And even if they do, who cares?”
“I do.” She stepped out of the water, coming closer to him, but then she stopped herself, looking unsure. “Where did you go this morning?”