by Susan Fox
He shrugged helplessly. How did you explain “friends with benefits” to an eleven-year-old? He was way out of his depth.
Cassidy released Robin and started again. “You know how much your dad loved Anita?”
Robin cocked her head. “Course I do. I loved her too.”
“I know. Well, he loved her so much, he might never have another girlfriend like her. He’ll have different kinds of friends, like me and Sally and Karen, and of course he’ll always love your mom, but maybe his heart only has room for one special girlfriend like Anita.”
He nodded. There was—could only ever be—one Anita.
“You mean,” Robin said slowly, “like Kimiko’s my best friend and if something happened to her, no one could take her place.”
On safer ground now, Dave said, “That’s right, sweetheart, but it’s not quite the same. A friend, even a really special one like Kimiko, is different from finding the one person who’s your, uh”—he felt stupid using girly, romantic words, but all the same forced them out—“soul mate. I love your mom a great deal and always will. But with Anita it was like we were two halves of a whole. Totally compatible. Everything just clicked . . .” It had been irresistible; magic; the most amazing feeling in the world. “When you’re older, you’ll understand better.”
“Or not,” Cassidy mumbled under her breath, tilting a cynical eyebrow in his direction. Then, to Robin, she said, “Besides, as much as I like and respect your dad, I don’t want a serious boyfriend.”
Robin frowned. “You don’t believe in what Dad said? You don’t think he and Anita were soul mates, or mom and Evan? Or Gramma Brooke and Jake, or—”
“Stop, stop,” Cassidy protested, holding up a hand, laughing a little. “I admit, Caribou Crossing breeds more than its fair share of soul mates. But not everyone finds that kind of relationship or is even looking for it. Like me.”
“But you live in Caribou Crossing too.”
Dave had to grin at his daughter’s logic. His grin faded, though, when Cassidy said, “That’s temporary. Once I get my treatment sorted out and have a handle on this disease, I’ll be on the road again.”
“Why?” Robin turned a narrow-eyed gaze on Cassidy.
Dave always got nervous when his daughter turned that look on him.
“Why what?” Cassidy said warily.
“Why would you go? Where could you go that’s anywhere near as nice as here?”
“Caribou Crossing is wonderful,” Cassidy said, “but you’ve heard me talk about some of the other places I’ve been. Watching baby loggerhead sea turtles hatching on a Carolina sea island. Whitewater rafting in the Grand Canyon. The world is full of so many wonders.”
“But we’re here,” Robin protested.
That was what hurt. He and his daughter cared about Cassidy; she was special to them. Yet for her, they were no different from the dozens, maybe hundreds, of people she’d left behind as she wandered around the world. He knew the deficiency wasn’t with him and Robin. Cassidy’s parents had done such a number on her that she chose self-sufficiency and adventure over close personal relationships. Knowing didn’t make the pain any less.
For a moment, Cassidy didn’t respond. Then she tweaked Robin’s nose. “And that’s the very best part of Caribou Crossing. On the sea island, it was the baby turtles. Here, it’s you guys.” Her gaze flicked to Dave’s face, including him, then focused back on Robin. “People are different, Robin. We want different things out of life.”
“I guess.” She didn’t sound convinced.
Cassidy said brightly, “Okay, I’m ready for popcorn and a movie. How about you two?”
Feeling depressed, Dave rose. “I’ll get the popcorn. Rob, you go set up the DVD.”
When his daughter had gone, he put the popcorn in the microwave. Cassidy sat at the table, her shoulders rounded. When he first met her, her spine had always been straight, her head up, her eyes sparkling. She’d been an optimist. He hated the way MS had dampened her spark.
He came up behind her and rested a hand on one bowed shoulder. “You okay?”
Her shoulders lifted, then fell again. “Yeah. Robin was great.”
“You were pretty great yourself.” With the MS part of the conversation. And, truthfully, with the other part as well. She’d been honest with Robin. It was Dave’s problem that he wished Cassidy had a different philosophy of life.
She twisted her head to look up at him. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dave Cousins. I’m sorry I’m such a bitch sometimes. Honestly, I don’t know how I’d do this without you. And now I’ve dragged your whole family into it.”
“You didn’t drag anyone into it.” He shook his head, impatient with her. “Jesus, woman, don’t you understand that people like you? They want to help. You just need to let them in.”
“Maybe.” The word held no conviction.
He thought again of her parents. Would she tell them about her diagnosis? Or tell her brother, whom she seemed closer to? Now definitely wasn’t the right time to ask.
The microwave dinged and Robin ran in, Merlin at her heels. The dog knew that, whenever he smelled popcorn, he’d get a few kernels before the butter and salt went on.
A few minutes later, they were all in the living room. Cassidy curled into one corner of the couch, Dave sat on the other side, Robin was between them with the popcorn bowl, and Merlin lay on the floor at Robin’s feet. Cassidy clicked PLAY.
Immediately, Dave had a sense of déjà vu. He remembered seeing this movie when he was a little younger than Robin. His mom had played it for him and his siblings. All he remembered now was that a nun became governess to a bunch of kids and taught them to sing.
When the nuns queried, musically, how to solve a problem called Maria, Robin giggled. “I like Maria already.”
“Me too,” Cassidy said. “I’m—I was—like her. A wave on the sand . . .” Her voice faded in sadness.
Robin leaned forward to stroke Merlin, and when the nuns next asked how to solve their problem, Cassidy muttered, so quietly Dave could barely hear, “You give her MS.”
“What?” His daughter straightened.
“Nothing,” Cassidy said quickly.
Listening to the words of the song, he realized that the woman sharing the couch did make him feel much the way the nuns did about Maria. Cassidy frustrated and confused him, yet she brought joy into his world. Especially before she was diagnosed. Of course she was going through a tough time now. But once she came to terms with her disease, she wouldn’t let it hold her back. She’d regain her optimistic, sparkly, will-o’-the-wisp personality. And she’d be gone.
His life would be easier. His life would be . . . less.
When it was time for her to go, he couldn’t try to hold her back. As the nuns said, you couldn’t hold a moonbeam in your hand. And so, over the next months, he had to be careful not to let himself get too attached. He took a handful of popcorn and moved back farther into his own corner of the couch.
As the movie progressed, he watched the two females beside him as much as he watched the screen. As Cassidy was drawn into the story, she became her old self, totally engaged and animated.
During a lightning storm, Maria distracted her charges by singing about her favorite things. A couple of verses in, Robin cried, “The wild geese! That’s your tattoo!”
Cassidy smiled at her. “A wild goose flying with the moon on her wing. She’s me.”
He’d always thought her tattoo was beautiful and haunting, a symbol of her desire to fly free and solo. Now he was curious to hear the full story behind it. Later, when they were alone.
When the children started to repeat the verses, Cassidy said to Robin, “How about you? What are your favorite things? Galloping Concha across a meadow filled with wildflowers?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Watching a foal take its first steps.” She glanced at Cassidy. “What are yours? Those baby sea turtles? Rafting in the Grand Canyon?”
“For sure.”
&n
bsp; “Picking wild strawberries.”
“The scent of a wild rose. Is anything more perfect than that?”
“Making my baby brother smile.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Cassidy said.
And Dave thought: This. This was a good one. Having the two of them beside him, lighthearted and having fun.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cassidy knew her singing voice was pretty awful, but who cared when she and Robin were having such fun, singing along to “Do-Re-Mi,” then trying to yodel to “The Lonely Goatherd”?
The first time she saw The Sound of Music, she was a year or two younger than Dave’s daughter, and she and her brother had sung along too. They’d been staying with Gramps. Luis was living in France with his girlfriend and Justine had gone on a skiing trip with the guy she was dating.
Parents sure came in different flavors. She and JJ had got the self-absorbed kind. Robin’s parents had divorced too, and no doubt there’d been some difficult times, but Dave and Jess obviously still cared for each other and supported each other. More importantly, they’d always ensured that their daughter knew they loved her and put her first.
Gramps had done that. With his daughter, Justine, and with Cassidy and JJ. If he hadn’t died when she was fifteen, Cassidy probably wouldn’t have rushed off to Europe as soon as she graduated. What would she have done? She’d been so driven to get away from her shitty life at home, she’d never considered an alternative other than escape.
A rich voice drew her from her musings. The abbess was singing “Climb Every Mountain.” It sent shivers up and down Cassidy’s spine. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? To find a dream that would last all your life, and to follow it?
But it had to be a realistic one. Her own dream had been to explore the world and enjoy life to the fullest, and that was exactly what she’d done for ten years. Now, she hadn’t the faintest idea what restrictions MS might put on that dream.
And somehow, as she lounged here with Dave and Robin, a life of moving from place to place, from one set of strangers to another, no longer seemed so full. In fact, it seemed a little . . . hollow.
On screen, the abbess was chastising Maria for having run away from her feelings for Captain von Trapp. She told Maria she must face her problems and live the life she was born to live. Everyone had a different dream, a different life. Cassidy realized that what the abbess was really saying was that the most powerful dreams were about a deep, loving commitment—whether to a god or to another human being.
Love. What did Cassidy know about love?
Gramps had loved her absolutely. For her and JJ, he’d have moved mountains. She didn’t doubt that her parents loved her and her brother, but it was always secondary to their passion for each other.
Gramps had died; her parents were almost strangers. The only other person she’d ever loved, her brother, was a near-stranger too. Justine and Luis always put themselves first, and, it dawned on Cassidy, that was what she’d done with JJ. Once, they’d been best friends, but she’d run out on him in their teens. Ever since then, she’d kept to the fringes of his life.
Now, that felt wrong. She needed to see if the bond between them could be restored.
With that resolved, she focused again on the movie in time to see the Captain and Maria confess their love for each other. She kept her attention on the screen until the von Trapp family hiked to freedom and the movie ended.
Robin said, “Yay! They all lived happily ever after.”
Cassidy stood and stretched. “They did. And I know that they eventually made it back to their home in Austria.”
“Oh yeah?” Dave teased, sprawling at his end of the couch. “You mean they didn’t travel through Switzerland, then on to, oh, maybe the south of France, then perhaps Greece, because there were so many exciting places to see?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha.”
Gazing up at her he said, “It strikes me as odd that one of your favorite movies is about a family and the home that means so much to them.”
“Different people have different dreams.” Sensible people chose dreams they could realistically achieve.
Robin bounced to her feet and hugged Cassidy. “It was a cool movie. Thanks for bringing it.”
Cassidy hugged her back. “I’m glad you liked it. And now I need to get home.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” Dave said, rising with the hugely appealing athletic grace that characterized all his movements.
This time she wouldn’t snap about him being overprotective, but appreciate the thought behind it. “Thanks, but I feel good. Honestly. I’ll enjoy the fresh air and the stretch.”
“Oh my gosh,” Robin said. “I forgot you were sick, Cassidy. How do you feel?”
“Just fine,” she assured the girl gently. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.” She glanced at Dave. “Neither of you do.”
“How about this?” he said. “We’ll try not to do that if you’ll tell us when you’re tired or not feeling well rather than tough it out and pretend to be okay.”
She wrinkled her nose.
He said, “Yeah, that’ll be hard, right? Well, it’s hard for Rob and me not to fuss over you. But we’ll try.” He gave her a pointed look.
Compromise. The two of them were learning. “Okay, I’ll try too.”
When Robin had taken the popcorn bowl to the kitchen, Cassidy said quietly to Dave, “The movie reminded me of my brother. I’m going to call him.”
A slow smile lit his face. “I’m glad.”
Whenever she was near Dave, something about him tugged at her, making her want to move close and touch him. It wasn’t only sexual. A brush of hands, a caress of sock-clad foot against sock-clad foot on the coffee table, things like that could be enough.
His daughter came back, dangling Merlin’s leash, which brought the dog to his feet. “Merlin needs to go out. We can all walk you home, Cassidy.”
“Rob, you need to go to bed,” Dave said.
“Aw, Dad, it’s Saturday.”
“Okay, maybe this once. But we should ask Cassidy if that’s okay with her. Maybe she’d like to be alone.”
Happy that he was learning to respect her boundaries, she said, “I’d enjoy your company.”
“Yay!”
Outside on the street, Robin and Merlin jogged ahead. Dave clasped Cassidy’s hand and she squeezed his. She breathed deeply, enjoying the crisp autumn air, the starry night sky. The bar at the Wild Rose was still lively, as was another down the street, but other than that the town was quiet, the streets almost deserted. So different from a big-city Saturday night.
Dave said, “Tell me more about your wild goose tattoo.”
Robin was probably out of earshot; still, Cassidy lowered her voice. “As a kid, I loved watching the wild geese. I thought how lucky they were to be able to pick up whenever they wanted and fly wherever they wanted to go. When things at home weren’t great, I wished I was a Canada goose. That line from the song stuck with me. So beautiful, and symbolic of freedom.”
“When did you get the tattoo done?”
“Just after I turned eighteen.”
“When you were in Europe after high school?”
“Yeah. I went to Greece to visit Justine, but she was all wrapped up in her boyfriend, who I didn’t get along with.”
“Sounds rough.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Anyhow, I had my birthday and both my parents gave me money as their present. Right after, I took off on my own to travel around Europe. The first thing I did was hitchhike to Amsterdam and get this tattoo. It was my way of saying I was a grown-up, free to live my own life in my own way.”
“Wild geese usually travel in flocks,” he commented.
“Not this one. I like my independence.”
For a few minutes, they followed the girl and dog in silence, then Dave said, “By the way, I have to go to the Okanagan next Wednesday and Thursday to meet with suppliers. It’s a four-hour drive, so it’d be easiest
to stay overnight.”
“Do you need me to do anything? Robin will be at Jess and Evan’s?”
“Yes. As for the inn . . .”
She bumped her shoulder against his. “This is why you have an assistant manager.”
“Call me if you have any problems, and I can drive back. Sam could help out too, if needed. I wish I didn’t have to go, but—”
“Dave, stop. Or I’ll think you don’t have confidence in me.”
“It’s not that. But who knows what could happen with your MS, or side effects from the meds. And you’re supposed to reduce your stress level. I feel bad about dumping this on you. Actually, on second thought, I should postpone—”
“Stop!” This time she punched his shoulder. Not lightly. “Stop now, or I’m going to get pissed off.” Her job was one of the few things, these days, that made her feel like she was in control. If he chipped away at that, her self-esteem would crumble even further.
“How about this? If you’re feeling okay on Tuesday, I’ll go. If you’re not, I’ll postpone.”
As if Tuesday was any indication of how she’d feel on Wednesday. He had read the same MS information she had, and should know that. She wasn’t going to remind him.
When they reached Ms. Haldenby’s house, it was dark except for a light upstairs in her bedroom. Ms. H loved to take a mug of hot chocolate to bed and finish the night with a chapter of a novel.
Cassidy gave Robin a good-night hug, Merlin a pat, and Dave a lingering kiss on the cheek.
As she stepped through her door, she thought about her brother. He’d always been a night owl. There was no excuse not to call right now, and if she put it off she might lose her courage.
She pulled out the sofa bed, propped herself on pillows, and scrolled her phone to the rarely used number. “Hey, JJ. Is this a bad time? If I’m interrupting—”
“Cass? Hey, it’s nice to hear your voice. No, this is good. Mags and I were just vegging in front of the TV. Hang on.”
She heard him say, “Honey, could you set it to record? It’s my sister.” Then she heard Mags say, “Tell her hi from me.”
When he came back on the line, Cassidy said, “Say hi from me too.”