I decide to go ahead and return my U-Haul to the rental place in town. They close at five, and I don't want to get charged an extra day. I leave Mom a note, saying that if she gets home in time, maybe she could pick me up. But after I turn in the truck and try her from my cell phone, I realize that's not happening. I leave her a message, saying I'll grab a quick cup of coffee at The Butte (Black Bear's best coffeehouse) and maybe start walking home, since it's only about twenty minutes anyway.
I am barraged with worries about my mom as I sit down with my latte. What if she's been in a wreck of some kind? I think she'd fare well in that old, heavy Suburban of hers. Or what if she's stressed over my unexpected visit? She could be having some kind of meltdown or breakdown or something. But that doesn't seem likely. She probably just had a lot of errands to do, things she's neglected and is embarrassed to let me see. Although Sunday doesn't really seem the best day for things like that. I hope nothing's wrong.
I realize I'm pretty grimy and dusty and develop an instant worry that I'll see someone I know. So I pick up the local newspaper (the Black Bear Bulletin) and do my best to hide behind it as I drink my latte. I try to focus on the small-town news. Most of the stories this week are about the Black Bear Blues Festival and the big names the organizers have managed to attract, which actually are fairly impressive. I'd totally forgotten this event was in late October.
When I'm finished with the news and my latte, I try calling Mom again, but there's still no answer. Feeling a little worried, I decide to hurry on home. It's a beautiful day, and the exercise won't hurt me. I just hope I don't run into anyone I know as I pop on my big sunglasses and take the back streets, going as fast as these chubby legs will take me.
I'm actually huffing and puffing and freshly sweaty when I turn down the street to our house. I really must get into shape. All that sitting around on my big rear end and eating junk food has taken a serious toll. As I approach Mom's house, I notice a car that I don't recognize parked in her driveway—a red Jeep Wrangler. As I get closer, I notice a tall guy leaning against it. He has on khakis and a light blue shirt, and his legs are casually crossed as he talks into a cell phone. Something about this guy seems familiar to me, but I can't quite put my finger on it. He closes his cell phone as I cut across the front lawn, and suddenly I get it. I know who he is.
It's Todd Michaels from Black Bear High. He was a year ahead of me and one of the coolest guys around—smart, athletic, really good looking—the kind of guy I used to daydream about, imagining him inviting me out for a Coke, later taking me to the prom, and eventually being the father of my children… Of course, none of that ever happened. Not even close. I can see that he's changed a bit, probably for the better if that's even possible.
As the full realization of who he is hits me, I also remember how disgusting I look right now. I'm wearing my too-tight jeans, which are also too short, my run-down tennis shoes, an old gray sweatshirt—your basic loser-chick apparel. I want to turn around and walk the other way. But it's too late. He's already waving, and to my horror and despite my sunglasses, it's as if he recognizes me. Good-bye, incognito.
“Hey,” he calls out, “is that you, Cassidy Cantrell?”
I try not to look like a shrinking violet as I nod and say an embarrassed “Yeah, it is.” Is it possible that he's actually here to see me? I cautiously approach him, wishing I could rewind the clock and do this totally differendy. I mean, this could've been one of those big moments in life—one of those times you dream of, hope for, fantasize about later. But maybe it's not too late. I force a smile as I stand across from him. I think I can smell his cologne—and it smells expensive.
“Your mom told me to look for you. She thought you would be here by now.” He looks curiously at me as if he's not quite sure who I am. “You really are Cassidy Cantrell, right?”
“Of course.”
“But your mom said you were driving from the city, and I don't see a car.”
I laugh nervously. “No, I actually came here in a U-Haul truck. I just unloaded all my stuff into the garage.” I point down at my grungy attire. “As you can see, I still have on my moving clothes. I just turned the truck in and decided to walk home.” I really wish I could shove my hands into my pockets right now. I'd like to play up the sporty sort of fun girl who's not afraid to drive a U-Haul truck or walk across town, but my jeans are too tight for this little gesture.
He looks surprised. “So you are moving back to town?”
I shrug, then shyly smile again. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Your mom said it was just a visit.”
“Mom doesn't know everything,” I say a bit slyly.
He turns at the sound of a car coming down the street, and we both watch a sleek silver sports car slow down and pull into the driveway. I wonder what's going on here and why Mom's driveway has suddenly turned into Grand Central Station.
“Speaking of your mom…” Todd nods toward the pretty blond driver, who's now climbing out of the car, as if this should all make some kind of sense to me, which it totally doesn't.
“Huh?” I study the tall, thin woman in the stylish denim jacket and belted, low-rise jeans. She smiles at me, then removes her sunglasses. For a split second, I almost think it's my sister Callie, only this woman seems a bit older.
“Hey, Audra,” says Todd, using my mother's first name, as he goes over to greet this woman. He gives her a quick hug followed by a peck on the cheek. Reality hits me like a baseball bat to the side of the head. That woman is my mother!
odd,” says the slender, pretty woman standing in my mom's driveway, “did you meet Cassidy already?” She uses a voice that sounds strangely like my mothers. Can this really be true?
“Yes,” says Todd. “She just walked up, and I assumed it was your daughter.”
“You assumed right,” she says as she walks toward me.
Todd laughs. “But I forgot to introduce myself.”
“I already know you who you are,” I tell him in a chilly voice. My mom, who really looks nothing like my mom, has her arms opened wide and is grinning at me as if she thinks this is all very funny.
“You already know Todd?” she says as she hugs me tightly, the same way she always has, but there's so much less of her for me to hug in return.
I give her a reluctant squeeze, then step back and study her closely just to make sure it really is her. And it is; the eyes give her away. “Yeah, Todd was a year ahead of me in high school,” I say pointedly. As in He could be your son, Mom.
She just laughs, then gently punches him in the arm. “You didn't tell me that, Todd. You gave me the impression you were older.”
Todd looks slightly embarrassed as he peers at me. “Really? We were in school together?”
“Yes,” I tell him, not taking my eyes off my transformed mother. When did she lose all that weight? More important, how did she? “I'm sure you don't remember me.”
“Well, that was a long time ago,” he says, smiling at my mom.
“But you told me you were older than my girls,” she teases.
“I just figured I must be,” he says. “You never mentioned their ages, and judging by you, I could only assume they were much younger.”
She smiles even bigger now. “Thanks for the compliment, but I distinctly remember your telling me that you were pushing forty.”
“I am pushing forty, just not too hard. It was the only way to get you to go out with me, Audra. I figured if we were both in our forties…”
My mom says nothing, which makes me wonder if she's been lying about her age too. What else might be going on here?
“I looked all over town for you, Cassie,” she says in a slightly scolding tone, sounding more like Mom. “I read your little note about the U-Haul place and ran over there to get you, but the guy said I just missed you. So I assumed you were walking home, and I drove around and around and looked and looked, but—”
“I left phone messages,” I point out.
She slaps her foreh
ead. “Silly me, I forgot to check my voice mail. You see, its been a busy day. I'd left to check on a new listing earlier, and then I showed a house, and one thing led to another… and by the time I got back home, you'd already come and gone. And then I was meeting Todd here at five thirty and—”
“Audra told me to be on the lookout for her long-lost daughter,” Todd fills in as though they're some happily married old couple. “That's why I figured out who you were when you walked up.” He scratches his head. “But I still can't place you in high school. Maybe I should get out the annual and have a—”
“Don't bother,” I say sourly. “I'm sure you wouldn't remember me anyway.”
“You might remember Callie,” suggests Mom. Of course she would think so. Everyone must remember the beautiful Callie.
“Callie was like three years ahead of Todd,” I point out. “Remember, she's your oldest daughter, four years older than I am, and then there's Cammie, who hasn't hit thirty yet, and she's—”
Mom laughs. “Yes, yes, well, you know me and numbers, Cassie. It's a wonder they trust me to sell real estate.”
“That's how we met,” says Todd. “Your mom recently sold me a house.”
“He bought the Barley place on Alder Street.”
“But I refused to sign the offer until she promised to go out with me,” says Todd. “And I had to pretend to be pushing forty just to get her to agree to that.” He winks at me as if this was all quite clever on his part. “I always did like older women.”
“I forgot to tell you,” says Mom, glancing at her watch. “I was so surprised when I spoke to you the other day, I didn't mention that Todd and I are going to a concert tonight. The Black Bear Blues Festival is this weekend, and he had already bought tickets for really good seats. I've tried all over town to find you one so you could join us, but everything seems to be sold out.”
“That's okay,” I say quickly. “I'm tired after the long drive anyway.”
“Do you want to join us for dinner?” offers Todd, although I'm sure he's hoping I'll decline. I pause for a moment, almost wanting to say yes just to rock his boat a little. Maybe I could even call him Daddy.
Mom nods eagerly “That's a great idea. We're heading over to the resort for a special dinner that's to benefit—”
“No, I'm not even hungry,” I lie. “You guys go ahead. I'll be fine.”
“You sure, honey?”
“Of course I'm sure. Go on. Have a good time.” I head toward the house, waving as I go up the steps. “Have fun, kids,” I yell just before I close the front door. Then I stand to one side of the big front window, lurking in the shadows as I spy on them. They're totally oblivious to me, in their own world as they appear to be discussing which vehicle to drive. But I just stand there numbly watching. I feel like I'm in serious shock as I scrutinize these two strikingly attractive people, who look like they could be posing for a car commercial. They seem as if they're younger than I am, and I find this very disturbing. I still can't believe that's really my mom out there. What happened to all the gray hair and the frowzy haircut? And what about all that weight and the dumpy, frumpy old clothes she used to cover it with?
They finally decide on Mom's car, which is another unsolved mystery in this Twilight Zone episode that's actually a day in the life of Cassie Cantrell. Naturally, Mom lets him drive. I want to scream.
Instead I retrieve Felix from my bedroom, turn on the TV, then search the entire kitchen and pantry for some form of junk food, only to discover that my mom has turned into a total health nut. I can't even find chocolate—in any form. So I eventually settle on some “butter flavored” rice cakes and some pink premixed drink that she's got in the fridge. It has fake sweetener, which makes it taste disgusting.
I can't take it anymore. I pick up the phone and call information to see if there's still a Domino's Pizza in town, and when I'm connected, I order a giant with the works. I think I shall simply eat myself to death.
As I'm porking out on pizza, I wonder about my sisters. Do they have any idea what's going on with Mom? I decide to take advantage of her long-distance and start with Callie, hoping that she's put the twins to bed by now.
“Cassie?” She sounds surprised, probably because I rarely call. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” I say as I set down a half-eaten piece of pizza. “Do you know what's going on with Mom?”
“What do you mean? Is she okay? Tell me, what's wrong?”
So I pour out a very dramatic retelling of my afternoon, leaving out no details. I finally pause to catch my breath.
“Is that allT she asks in a bored-sounding voice.
“What do you mean, Is that all’?” I repeat, stunned. “It's like the Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Callie. It's like Mom doesn't live here anymore.”
Callie just laughs. “Calm down, Cassie. This is old news, okay?”
“Huh?”
“Mom's lost a litde weight, and that naturally requires some new clothes. And, yes, she's gone blond. I actually happen to have been the one who suggested that change after I saw how gray she was. Good grief, Cassie, she's five years younger than Goldie Hawn. It's okay if she looks like it. I even asked my hairdresser to help her pick out the color.” She pauses. “The young boyfriend thing is news to me, but, hey, who can blame her?”
“So you knew about all this?” I am incredulous.
“Mom and I talk,” she says casually. I can imagine her filing a perfecdy shaped nail, giving it a little puff, checking it out.
“So do we,” I say defensively. “Why didn't she tell me this stuff?”
“Mom thinks you've been having a hard time,” she says in a more gende tone. “I think she thought it made you feel better to know that her life's not so perfect either.”
“What do you mean I'm having a hard time? What did she tell your
“Oh, you know, Cassie. You tell her about Eric and his inability to commit and how your baby clock is ticking away and how your jobs not all that great and how you've put on some weight and—”
“Wait a minute,” I say quickly. “Mom told you all that?”
“She worries about you, Cass. And she thinks you cheer up a little when she tells you about her troubles. It probably started innocently enough, since Mom really was miserable and you had time to listen. Its that old misery-loves-company thing. She told me how you started opening up to her more after Dad left and how you guys talked on the phone all the time. And then when things started turning around for her, well, she just couldn't bring herself to tell you.”
“How long was she going to hide this?” I ask.
“She wanted to surprise you and Cammie at Thanksgiving this year. Remember that Cammie asked her to have Thanksgiving at home since it'll be Cammie's last one in the States before she goes to Uganda next summer?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Mom just wanted to surprise you guys then. She thought it would be fun.”
“So it was just a big secret between you and Mom?”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I wormed the weight thing out of her after I sent her some size twenty sweats for her birthday in June. She admitted they were a little baggy.”
“She must've been swimming in them,” I say. “She looks like she's lost fifty pounds since last Christmas.”
“Seriously?” Callie lets out a happy little squeal. “Good for her! I wish I could see her right now. Hey, send me a picture, okay?”
“Sorry, you'll have to wait for Thanksgiving,” I tease. “And who knows, maybe she and Todd will be married by then, and we'll have a new stepdad who is younger than you. But don't worry, I won't tell.”
“Oh, come on, Cass. Don't take everything so personally. Be happy for Mom. I'm sure this Todd thing is just a phase.”
“It's like both our parents have lost their minds.”
“No,” says Callie in a firm tone, “Dad lost his mind when he cheated on Mom. But Mom's finding herself now. It might take some time, but we need to be supporti
ve of her. She's been through so much.”
I almost start to tell Callie how much I've been through re-cendy, but I feel too tired. Besides, it's so humiliating. I'll save it for another day. “Yeah, you're probably right. Sorry.” I'm trying to think of a way to cut off our conversation now. I just want to go to bed.
“So what are you doing at Mom's anyway, Cass? She never mentioned you were coming.”
“I kind of took her by surprise,” I admit.
“I'll bet.”
“Well, I should go.” I'm tapping my toe, ready to hang up before I get some big-sister, my-life-is-so-perfect, be-more-like-me lecture.
“All right, but take it easy on Mom, okay?”
“What did you think I was going to do? Beat her up?”
“She's just getting on her feet, Cass. She doesn't need anyone stomping on her right now.”
“I'm not stomping on anyone.”
“You sounded pretty mad.”
“More like stunned, okay? I was in a state of shock. I mean she's our mom, for Pete's sake. I expect parents to act like parents. First we go through this with Dad, and he checks out, living his own party-boy life like we don't even exist anymore. Then almost exactly a year later, it's like we're losing Mom too. I just can't take it.” My voice breaks, and I actually start to cry.
“We're not losing Mom, Cass.”
“But all these changes, and she's been so secretive, with me at least…”
“She's kept secrets from me too. I hadn't heard about the new car, although it sounds pretty cool. And you know we've all bugged her to lose that horrible, gas-eating Suburban. So really it's a good thing, right?”
“I guess. I just need time to adjust to all this.” I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “Anyway, I should probably let you go.”
“Tell Mom I said hey.”
Then we say good-bye and hang up. I can't help it. I am so ticked that Callie knew and I didn't. I'm halfway tempted to call Cammie and tell her the whole story. But knowing Cammie, she'd probably be very sweet about it. She'd take the high road and side with Mom.
These Boots Weren't Made for Walking Page 6