by Lisa Beazley
On Thursday night I sat out back around the fire with Sid, feeling blue that my time with her was coming to an end, that things with Leo were still unresolved, and about the threats and intimidation I’d employed to get the boys to stay in their beds that night. Jill and another Realtor had come to the house with prospective buyers on two separate occasions that week, and while the meeting with the Web people had gone well, it would take some time to integrate advertising and even more time to know if I’d really make any money from it. In other words, it was time to let go of the house.
On the upside, I’d picked up almost four hundred letters from the PO box, and had been so wrapped up in the blog that until now I hadn’t had time to preemptively mourn this house or my marriage, both of which seemed to be slipping away. “I love it here,” Sid said, sighing. “Me too. Our little halfway house for upper-middle-class women with broken marriages.” She giggled. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready to be rereleased into society,” I said, taking a sip of peppermint tea and adding, “Why are you making me drink tea? I want wine.” Ignoring this, she said, “So a couple of days ago, I got a settlement from Adrian.” “Really?” “Yeah. It was about six times what I thought it would be when he told me he wanted us to ‘be comfortable,’” she said, making air quotes. “You’re kidding,” I said. “No. I tried to get him to take some of it back. I don’t want guilt money from him. Plus, we don’t need much—now that River’s college is taken care of . . .” “Keep the money!” I interrupted. “Think of it as his penalty for treating you so badly.” “He wouldn’t take it back. So yeah, I’m keeping it.” “Hold on. We really do need some wine.” I went to fetch a bottle of red and two glasses from the kitchen and hurried back outside. I was excited for Sid and glad we’d have something else to do other than sit around feeling sad. I kept trying to get her to tell me exactly how much she had, so we could start allocating it. I wanted to play a version of the game where you say all the things you’d do if you won the lottery. But she was rambling about farmers’ markets and schools and the cool yoga studio in town when it dawned on me: Oh my God, she’s buying this house. I wish I could say my happiness was pure, but frustratingly, it churned up some complicated if-I-can’t-have-it-then-no-one-can type of feelings. “Cass? Are you listening?” “You’re buying this house,” I said, hoping my voice relayed only good feelings. “So what do you think?” She was looking at me expectantly. “I think it’s great. It’s amazing. I’ll see you all the time.” “Well, yeah.” “Yeah.” I nodded. I was shocked, and happy, but also felt an ugly pit growing in my stomach. Having survived high school with nary a boyfriend squabble, here I was fighting back a jealous urge to yell “Mine!” over a piece of real estate. “Cass, are you hearing me? I want us all to live here together. Your family and Mine. There’s more than enough room, especially with the silo.” “Sid!” The mood had gone from subdued to hysterical. We were standing up and screaming at each other. I felt like a guest on The Oprah Winfrey Show who had just been given a new car out of the blue. Confused and elated, I asked her to walk me through it once more, hoping I’d missed the part where she’d talked to Leo and convinced him to come back. But even on her second explanation, I was distracted by the sinking feeling that even if Leo were open to reconciliation, he’d balk at the idea of Sid buying us a house. “We’ll pay rent, of course,” I said. “Sure. We’ll figure it all out,” she said. By the time we’d finished the wine, I’d grown more determined than ever to put my family back together. I just hoped that Leo was missing me as much as I missed him. I’d find out soon enough. He was due back from Boston tomorrow. Lying in my bed later, I checked the blog and my e-mail from my phone, as had become my presleep ritual. Minutes later I shot up and trotted down the hall to Sid’s room, still clutching my phone. “Sid? Are you sleeping?” “Cass? What is it?” “Can I talk to you for a minute?” “Sure—come on in.” I sat on the edge of her bed. “I don’t want you to buy this house for us. I want to help, too.” “Of course. Of course you can.” “No—I mean, I met with a Web marketing consultant the other day. She’s doing a reader survey and site-traffic analysis.” “Okay.” She looked confused. “Well, it’s too soon to really know for sure, but I just read an e-mail from her, and she thinks the blog can generate a few thousand a month—hopefully more. Enough to cover the mortgage payments, right?” And with that, we had a plan. A plan I felt good about presenting to Leo. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I woke the next morning to the sound of Joey’s favorite game being played on my phone. “Hey, guys,” I said. “Good morning.”
Joey said nothing but climbed into bed with me, fingers and eyes glued to my phone. I pulled him close and planted several kisses on the top of his head while he continued to play. Quinn was drinking from the water glass on my bedside table. When he finished, he looked at me and said, “Mama, do we live here now?” I wondered for a moment if he’d been spying on Sid and me last night. “Well, would you like it if we lived here?” “Not New York City?” he said. “We could take the train into the city and visit anytime we want. It’s only forty minutes to our apartment.” “Can Dad live here, too?” Gulp. “Yes.” “Then yes. Come on. Let’s go get Dad.” There was no note of silliness in his voice. He meant business. I texted Leo. Boys eager to see you. When you do get home? Should be at the apt by 5.
We’ll meet you there for dinner. Cool?
Cool.
Since this was Quinn’s idea and because I was afraid that without the boys, Leo wouldn’t meet me, I didn’t consider going alone. When we got to the apartment, Quinn and Joey dumped out a basket of dinosaurs and starting playing. I called for pizza and then washed my face and applied some blush and mascara. I went to the bedroom and found a simple black tank dress I knew Leo liked. Not wanting to look like I was trying too hard, I put on a denim shirt over the dress and tied my hair into my signature sloppy half bun, half ponytail. I found an iffy bag of baby carrots in the fridge, pulled the table out from the wall, and added the stepstool as a fourth chair. I was setting the table, considering lighting some candles, when I heard Leo’s keys jingle in the lock. Nervous, I started rearranging the place settings so I’d be busy when he came in. This moment was the most afraid I could remember feeling during those harrowing few months. Leo barely had the door open when the boys launched themselves at him. I couldn’t see him from where I was hunched over the table, but I heard him say, “Hey, guys! What an awesome surprise. I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you.” I made my way over to the entryway and leaned against the doorframe, hoping for some eye contact or maybe even a quick unstilted conversation about how his trip had gone. “Yay! Dad’s back,” I said, and immediately winced because I worried that Leo would think I meant back back, and presumptuous was the last thing I was going for. “Daddy, we are here to get you,” said Quinn. I guess Quinn and I should have gone over the game plan ahead of time, because I wasn’t expecting him to just blurt it out like that. I had loosely planned on talking to Leo privately while the boys watched TV after pizza. “Get me?” said Leo, as he pulled Quinn close for a hair tousle. Leo looked back and forth between the boys while I tried to figure out how to insert myself into this conversation. With no better ideas, I decided to follow Quinn’s lead. “That’s right,” I added matter-of-factly. “We’d like you to come back with us. For good.” There. I’d said it. Leo stood up, looking (understandably) confused. The last he knew, the kids and I were meant to vacate the house and be back in the city—for good—tomorrow, his own place of residence TBD. Quickly, I told him about the blog’s advertising plan and Sid’s financial windfall. We were technically still renting the house, but if everything went as planned, Sid, Leo, and I would soon own the house together. For the boys’ sake, I made it seem like the big decision here was whether or not to move. But, of course, the bigger questio
n—that I couldn’t ask in front of the kids—was, Will you come back to me? When I finished, Quinn and Leo stood looking at me while Joey retreated to the bedroom. Leo didn’t say anything, but he stared at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I fought my nervous instinct to keep talking, to sell him on the schools, the easy walk to the train station and quick commute, my hope that he’d help me run the blog and get a less demanding job closer to our new home, my openness to selling the apartment if we needed to. None of that mattered if he didn’t want to get back together. I forced myself to look back at him in silence, awaiting his answer to my unasked question. The stare down continued for a few more seconds, until Leo broke into a slow smile. We hadn’t made real eye contact in quite some time, and it had a thrilling effect. Say it, I thought. Say something that tells me yes. Joey came back out of the bedroom, dragging a grocery bag filled with a random assortment of Leo’s clothes, and held it out to Leo. “So let’s go,” he said. “Okay, bud,” Leo said, taking the bag from him. “Let’s go.” We stood there, looking around at one another, me wondering if Leo’s “Okay, bud,” was my “yes,” when the buzzer rang. I had forgotten about the pizza. With shaky hands, I paid the delivery guy, then set the pizza on the table and went to the bathroom. When I came out, Leo was helping the boys put their shoes and coats on. My heart pounded as we walked purposefully up Hudson Street. I wanted to ask Leo, Are we officially back together, or are you just going along with this for the kids’ sake? Instead I went with, “Are we really going to let this pizza get cold?” “Mom’s right, guys,” Leo said. “Let’s grab this bench and eat.” On the bench outside of Hudson Bagels, with the huge open pizza box covering all four of our laps, I felt happy. When I lifted the cheese off of my slice and slopped it back into the box, I noticed Leo smile and shake his head—my lactose intolerance still a newish development—in what seemed closer to affection than annoyance, which heartened me considerably. “So how’s the pizza in Westchester?” asked Leo. This was my signal that it was really happening, my “yes.” Sitting there on that bench, on my way out of the city I thought I’d never leave with the husband I thought I might, I realized I had been wrong about both. The city was easy to leave. The husband’s the one who nearly left me, and whom I learned I wanted to keep more than anything. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The boys both fell asleep on the train, and we carried them the three blocks to the house, depositing them into their beds in the room beside mine. In the quiet hallway, I whispered, “Let’s talk,” and Leo followed me into my room, where we found ourselves truly alone together for the first time in many weeks.
I needed to officially win him back on my own, and had prepared a speech in my head on the train. But the charge between us was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time, so instead of presenting my case for reconciliation, I did something that terrified me. “Sit down,” I said, then turned the bedside lamp on and the overhead light off. Leo sat on the bed, and neither of us spoke. I stood before him and started unbuttoning my dress from the top down. Thankfully, I had worn decent underwear and a matching bra—from the Gap, maybe, but lacy and black, and doing the trick, it seemed. When I slid out of the armholes and let the dress fall to the ground, Leo was looking at me in a way I remembered from when we were dating. My stomach, with its frown of a belly button and slack white flesh, was like a third person in the room: He’d seen flashes of it, but not head-on like this since before the twins were born (and it was an entirely different body part). This is it, I coached myself: No more hiding. No more apathy. No more lazy, indifferent sex. I undid my bra and—as gracefully as possible—stepped out of my underwear. I said nothing, but stood there as not quite the girl he married but, hopefully, the woman he still loved. “Cass,” he said, holding out his hand as if to answer my doubts. My uncharacteristically bold seduction combined with the unfamiliar bed plus the fact that we hadn’t been together in several weeks all added up to a fantastically foreign yet familiar series of touches and sounds and sensations. Afterward, Leo nuzzled my neck and said, “So that’s what they call makeup sex.” I blinked back tears and kissed him again before laying my head on his chest. “So we’re made-up? You forgive me?” “Yes. Thanks for coming to get me.” I just smiled and hugged him tight. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Sunnyvale, New York December 12 Dear Sid, Surprise! My fingers are crossed that this will make it to you. I’ve taken the extra precaution of mailing it express. I hope your Singapore visit is going well. Things here are great—so much news to share! The crew looks to be making progress on Creekside Homebirth. They finished the roof yesterday—just in time, it appears, because this morning it snowed. I booked two speaking engagements for January, a “letter writers alliance” and a bloggers conference. I’m completely intimidated. I need you to help me with what I’m going to say. Kenny stopped by today to say that his parents are going to make it for Christmas Eve, and Monica and TJ and the kids are definitely coming, so it looks like we will have quite a crew. I went to the big Target today (bliss!) and got new bedding for the two back rooms for Mom and Dad and Joe and Margie. Leo and I have the perfect tree in mind—we can cut it down when you get home. Leo is over the moon because his buddies from Murray’s came out to taste his young goat cheese and they told him if he can make enough, they will sell it in the shop. Needless to say, he’s out goat shopping right now! The boys will be so excited. You’ll be proud of me: I’ve only sent Leo four texts this week. Four! I have so much to tell him when he gets home every day, I practically knock the boys out of my way to reach him first. Do you realize that Christmas Eve is the anniversary of our little letter-writing experiment? (Actually, “little” is the wrong word. “Metamorphic,” “gargantuan,” “transformative” would all be more fitting.) The deal was a year, and I know we’ve taken a few months off (justifiably, considering we see each other every day), but I wanted to honor our pact and close out the year with this. Thank you, Sid, for making this happen. What a fulfilling journey it has been, and what a delight to get to know you again. Living with you has brought more harmony, balance, and happiness into my life than I ever imagined. Your support has made me a better mom. And yet . . . it’s hard to think about the joy this year has brought without also acknowledging the havoc I wreaked on my life, your life, Leo’s life, and perhaps a few others. But I daresay we’ve all come out of it in one piece! Having my most private self become totally public turned out to be horrifying, yes, but ultimately liberating. I have no idea where I’d be today if it weren’t for the tumult of the past year, but I can guarantee you I wouldn’t be as happy as I am right now, with goats in my barn, a birthing suite in my yard, a cheese cave in my basement, and a house full of people I love and cherish. Soak up that warm weather and then hurry home, my dear. I miss you. Kisses to Lu and Riv! Love you so much. —Cassie Readers Guide
Keep Me Posted
Lisa Beazley
Questions for Discussion
1.Is Cassie a good mother? A good wife? A good sister? Does she seem to prioritize any of these roles over the others? Which is the most important to her? What should be the most important relationship? Is it possible to ace all of them, or do some have to suffer so that others can thrive? 2.How do you think Cassie’s obsession with Facebook affects the way she sees herself, her family, and her own life? Do you think people are honest about themselves on social media? Can you tell when they aren’t? How does seeing an endless stream of curated information about other people’s lives influence how we see our own? 3.What do you make of Cassie and Leo’s constant text messaging? Cassie seems to think they would be more intimate without it. What’s a healthy amount of electronic communication in a relationship? 4.Cassie lets her relationship with Sid slip away, despite needing her. Is social media to blame? Why do we allow ourselves to drift away from the people we love while keeping up with acquaintances on social media? Is there someone close to you whose s
ocial media tendencies are the opposite of your own? How do these differences impact your relationship? 5.Cassie mentions Sid’s beauty several times even though she admits she is being superficial. Do you think Cassie is superficial? What about Sid? How does being beautiful affect someone’s personality? Do you think Cassie is jealous of Sid? Why or why not? 6.Cassie seems to idealize Sid in other ways, too. Is this her being a little sister, or do you think Sid deserves Cassie’s adoration? We only get Sid’s views on Cassie through her letters. How do you think she would describe Cassie if she narrated the book? 7.What if Cassie and Sid had kept in touch the usual ways, via e-mail, phone, and texting? Would they have been more or less guarded? In what ways might their relationship have been different? 8.Cassie finds herself wishing for a “simpler time” upon hearing her grandfather read the letters he exchanged with her grandmother. Does Cassie get her wish? Do you think old-fashioned letters were simpler or more complex than modern communication? How so? 9.What is it about Cassie and Jenna’s relationship that prevents them from being friends? Do you trust Cassie’s assessment of Jenna, or do you think she’s been unfair to her? Do you recognize relationships you’ve had with other women in them? If so, were you a Cassie or a Jenna? 10.Cassie doesn’t do much with Jake physically, but is she any less guilty than if she’d had a full-blown affair? Why or why not? Are there degrees of infidelity? 11.Cassie has a turning point just before the blog goes viral. Do you think she would have ended up in the same place emotionally if the blog hadn’t gone public? Or did she need to survive that ordeal in order to fully save her marriage and herself? 12.Where would Cassie, Sid, Leo, Kenny, Adrian, and River be now if the blog had never gone viral? 13.What advice would you have given Cassie if she had come to you for help when she discovered that the blog had gone public? Who did she need to tell, and what did she need to tell them? Do you think flying to Singapore was necessary? Or would her efforts have been better spent on Leo? Who was most damaged by Cassie’s actions? 14.Were you surprised by Leo’s reaction? Do you agree with his decision not to read the letters? What would you have done? If he had read the letters, would he still have forgiven Cassie? Do you think she deserves his forgiveness? 15.What about Sid’s reaction? If you were in her position, how might you have handled it? Given her problems with Adrian, what do you make of her ability to be supportive of Cassie’s attempt to put her marriage back together? 16.Do you think Cassie and Leo will be happy now? Do you foresee any trouble with their living situation at the end of the book? Where do you see Cassie, Sid, Leo, River and Kenny in five years? Could you move in with a sibling and his or her family? 17.Which sister do you most identify with? Who would you rather have as your sister? Looking for more? Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books. Discover your next great read!