Nothing Matters (Family Matters Book 1)

by Key, Liana

  "I don't know babe," I said, my own voice trembling, "I don't know." And she looked at my own tear stained eyes, a mirror of hers.

  "I just want it to stop," she said again, her eyes begging.

  "I know, I know," I soothed, my hand touching the top of her head, my lips brushing her hair. More than anything I wanted to help her, wished I could help her. Hell, though, I couldn't even help myself. She straightened up and I removed my arm, and she changed to a sitting position, hugging her knees, her eyes looking far out to the horizon, frequently wiping at her eyes, though the crying had stopped. I sat like she did, though not touching her now. I checked my phone. James had texted several times, also Will, Clare and Aaron. She glanced over at me as I replied to the texts.

  "Thanks," she said, "for being here." She stood up before I could answer and started back down the beach.

  MAGDALA

  Would it be like this on every anniversary, a maddening loss of control, a sinking back into the depths of grief that I thought I'd just emerged from? The insane emotional roller coaster from confidence to abjection in literally moments, leaving me ragged. One second I was coping, the next I wasn't.I had intended to go to school on Cassidy's four month anniversary, and suggest that Flynn join me at the cemetery later. We had done that on her second month anniversary, shared a picnic even. But as I drove to school I detoured, my car acting on automatic, and I was at the mall, buying flowers, choosing a soft toy and then at the cemetery, kneeling, crying, crying more. Then at the beach, walking, crying, sitting, crying. And then when Flynn caught me up, walking, crying again. I was glad he came looking for me, glad for his arm around me, glad his tears were flowing as readily as mine.

  I invited him back to the apartment, not sure what for, I just didn't want to lose the connection right away. I took him to pick up his car and he followed me home. He seemed worried about Cassian being there, but I told him it wouldn't matter if he was. I made us sandwiches and we sat on the sofa watching a movie. We didn't talk much, we didn't kiss, but our bodies touched as we sat side by side and it was like the look in our eyes was enough for one other, knowing that we were going through the same experience. Like it was only the two of us who could share this, could really know and understand what each was going through. Others could say they knew, but they couldn't. Only Flynn and I had lived it.

  Cassian came home and Flynn immediately sat up straighter. Cash came to me and hugged me, nodded at Flynn.

  "You two okay?" he asked gently. We both just nodded. He came and sat next to me, so there were three of us on the sofa, me squeezed in the middle. He put his arm around the back of me. I leaned my head onto his shoulder. "I just stopped by the cemetery," he said. "Who left the melted Mars bar?" Flynn and I looked at each other and laughed, giggled really.

  "You didn't eat it did you?" I asked.

  "I was tempted," he said, "because I'm starving." I laughed and punched his chest. "You guys eaten?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "Not yet."

  "You want to go out then? I'll see if Assisi has a table?"

  I perked up a bit. That was the restaurant where Cassian had been a waiter, and I'd only eaten there once. Cash had stopped working when he started college, he didn't really have time anymore, he said.

  "That would be neat. Your treat?" I asked hopefully.

  He stood up and took out his phone. "Yes," he smiled. "I'll see if I can get a table."

  Flynn looked at me as Cash made the phone call. "You go," he said. "I'll take off."

  "No," I said with urgency, "I want you to come." I squeezed his arm. "We need this."

  Flynn drove himself home to shower, and we did the same and then picked him up. I told Cassian about our day, and he said he figured as much. Surprisingly the restaurant was quite busy for a Wednesday, and we were shown to our table and a waitress came over, introduced herself and gave us menus.

  "Do you know her?" I whispered to Cash.

  "No, looks like there's a few new staff," he said, glancing around. "I haven't been here for awhile." Then I noticed his gaze stop, and his face hardened. I turned to see what or who he was looking at. I recognized his old boss, standing in a corner. I couldn't remember her name, but she was a stunning brunette with her hair pulled back in a glamorous bun.

  "That's your old boss," I commented, but when I turned back to him, his eyes were already looking down, scanning the menu.

  "What? Yeah. What do you feel like?" he gabbled, and proceeded to give Flynn a run down on some of the dishes. I thought he seemed nervous all of a sudden, which was uncharacteristic of him. Flynn decided on the shrimp tagliatelle, I got the mushroom and asparagus risotto, and Cash spaghetti bolognese.

  "All these fancy dishes," I teased, "and you order spag bolognese? I could have made you that at home.” He looked at me scornfully as if he didn't appreciate my humor. He changed the subject to us.

  "Did you tell Dad you skipped school?" he asked.

  "Only after I skipped school," I admitted, but still didn't get a laugh from him. He checked a text on his phone, then looked around the room.

  "What about you Flynn?" he asked, but he still seemed distracted.

  "I only skipped half a day," Flynn said, and somehow he laughed at that.

  "Who are you texting?" I asked, annoyed by his behavior.

  He kept texting, then said, "Just seeing if Jakey was around."

  "And is he?" I asked.

  "No."

  I rolled my eyes at him. He put his phone down and turned his attention to us. "So, you guys are good now?" I had no idea what he meant, but Flynn nodded and said, "Yeah, we're good."

  "Have you been accepted at college yet?" he asked.

  "I should hear in the next few weeks," Flynn replied.

  "You doing okay in your English now?" he asked me.

  "I'm actually doing better in Spanish," I laughed, but that didn't even get a smile from him.

  Our meals came out. Cash shook out his napkin. He took one corner and tucked it in the front of his shirt, but he made an elaborate display of it, as if he wasn't satisfied that it was covering his shirt adequately. He kept adjusting it at his collar. He got me annoyed again and I said sarcastically, "Do you want me to fix that?"

  "I don't want to stain my shirt," he retorted, then picked up his fork, staring off in the distance.

  Flynn started to eat with vigor, claiming his dish was delicious. I agreed mine was too and we discussed the merits of our food.

  "Have you thought of doing a chef course?" Flynn asked. "You'd be good at that."

  I shook my head, the idea had never crossed my mind. "How do you train for that?" I asked. Surely you didn't have to go to college for it. He said I should look into it, I wondered if it could be a possibility.

  "Do you know?" I asked Cassian.

  It took him a moment to realize I was talking to him, so engrossed was he in twirling his spaghetti on his fork, almost in a deliberate way, as if his OCD tendencies were on the rise. "Know what?" he snapped, aware that I was staring at him.

  "How to train to be a chef? Jesus, what's your problem?"

  He ignored me, took a sip of water, and stood up brusquely, pulling out his napkin, "Do you want a soda? I feel like one. Flynn?" Flynn asked for a Coke, but I shook my head. He went off to the bar.

  "I don't know what his problem is," I said to Flynn. Flynn shrugged, but half smiled.

  "It's kind of nice to do this," he said, "especially after the day we've had."

  I nodded. "Yeah. And I'm glad you found me." I was almost too scared to look at him as I said it, and I only lifted my eyes after.

  "Communication," he said, "that's what we need. Don't alienate me Magdala. I think we still need each other." He took a mouthful of food, swallowed and said, "We'll always be in this together. No matter what happens."

  I took a drink of water, my eyes tearing over again. But I didn't want to cry. I reached out for his leg, placing my hand on his thigh. He lightly touched it with his bad arm, his stump
, because his other hand was holding his fork. I nodded and forced a smile out. I released my hand and picked up my napkin, dabbing at my mouth, then my eyes.

  Cassian returned with two drinks. He looked from me to Flynn and back to me again.

  "Do you need a moment?" he asked and I was surprised at his unexpected sensitivity. "I can make myself scarce." And without waiting for a reply, placed the drinks down and left. Flynn put his fork down and reached over, entwining my hand with his.

  "I want us to work things out. Some day. When we're ready," he said. I didn't know what to say, because truthfully his words had taken me by surprise. But I didn't want to say nothing.

  "One day," I stumbled, "who knows? I might get my act together." I tried a smile, but it was feeble, verging on tears again. I used the napkin to sniff, hardly appropriate.

  "I wish I had your strength," he said, totally throwing me.

  "My strength?" I asked in disbelief. "I don't have strength. I'm, I'm weak. I’m pathetic."

  Flynn shook his head, his grey-blue eyes piercing in their clarity. "No. You're anything but weak. You have no idea just how brave and courageous you are." And he squeezed my hand tightly, and then the waitress came and took our plates.

  "Are you ready to go?" Cash asked when he returned some minutes later. He seemed hot and bothered. I wondered where he'd been. He downed his soda in almost one gulp.

  "No dessert?" I asked.

  "It's getting late," he said, though it had only just gone nine. "I've got an early lecture tomorrow." He signaled for the check, and I went to the restroom. I checked my makeup, thinking my mascara may have smudged, but it all appeared to be intact. The restroom door opened forcefully and Cassian's old boss thrust through the door, moving quickly, her hands up rearranging her hair, which was now in loose tendrils around her face. She glanced at me, but her face was unsmiling, stressed, under strain. Then a glimmer of recognition came to her eyes and she briefly smiled and disappeared into a cubicle. I raised my eyebrows in bemusement and left.

  We dropped Flynn home and he insisted I go inside with him as his parents wanted to say hello to me. Cash said to take my time, but I was only gone five minutes, and he must have been talking on his phone because he hung up quickly when I returned.

  "I saw your old boss in the restroom," I said, and though he looked at me he didn't reply. I repeated myself, only louder. "I saw your old boss in the restroom."

  He snapped, "Yeah. So what?"

  "Hell, what is your problem?" I said, mockingly. "You've been acting weird all night."

  He pretended to be concentrating on his driving. I wondered if I'd sounded too insensitive, and tried to diffuse him with a softer, "Is everything all right?" Maybe the phone call he'd had wasn't good news, though I had no idea of what, why or how.

  "Everything's fine," he said, but when we got home he let me out saying, "I've just got to go and pick up something, I won't be long." And he was gone before I could utter a single word or question him.

  And I know he hadn't come home by midnight which is when I finally turned off my light. I queried Cassian about his whereabouts but he fobbed me off saying he thought he was home before twelve, because my light had been on. But I swore I never heard him. He was cagey about where he'd been, what he had to pick up and I worried whether he was involved in drugs. I decided I would check with Jakey, though it seemed highly improbable that Cash would ever do drugs. He was vehemently against them, he had even helped run an anti-drug campaign at his school last year, something that would look good on his CV, he had said at the time. And Dad had an absolute zero tolerance to drugs and cigarettes. We knew we'd be dead if we ever touched them.

  But I couldn't possibly think what else he would be so secretive about. Unless it was his supposed girlfriend, who he was apparently no longer seeing. I still assumed it was someone he had played tennis with, though he had a whole different training squad now and wasn't getting coaching anymore. In fact, he was doing some coaching these days. My mind was befuddled, maybe it was just me not being able to track what everyone else was doing, maybe I'd been in the cocoon for too long.

  Chapter 12

  FLYNN

  It was the week before Cassidy's first birthday, the day looming on the horizon and my thoughts centered on Magdala, wondering if all the gains she'd made would suddenly be lost again. Why did it always seem like one step forward, two steps back.

  It was Mom who suggested we have a celebration party. At first I rejected it outright, asking sarcastically whether she thought a cake and balloons and streamers was really appropriate. Mom had said balloons would be nice, a symbol, and a party would acknowledge Cassidy and be a nice way to bring together all those who loved her. I then had to admit it made sense. And it would be better than just ignoring the day, hiding from the truth, from reality. I rang Trey, Magdala's Dad and asked him what he thought, whether Magdala was in the right frame of mind. I hadn't really seen much of her lately. Again her school attendance had been sporadic and I wasn't sure if he knew or not. But I didn't want to be the one to rat on her.

  Trey was enthusiastic about it, and so my mother then bolted into action. She wanted to host it at our place. She always thought Magdala's family had done more than their fair share and I think she saw this as her chance to contribute. She organized caterers, decorations and conferred with Trey and Antonia for a guest list. In the end it was to be a surprise for Magdala, and I was slightly at two minds about this, fearing that it could go fifty fifty. She would either love it, or hate it with a vengeance. But the parents couldn't be dissuaded once they'd set their hearts on it, and it was decided Jakey would be the one to get her to our place. Again, I didn't see how that would be practical, there was no reason Jakey would ever visit my parents. So then it got changed to Cassian. It was feasible that he would visit my mother about medical matters, so they all said. But the only time Cassian had been to our place was when he told me to leave Magdala. However, it was out of my hands and I decided it was easiest to just go along with the arrangements. Cassidy's birthday conveniently fell on a Friday, so the party would be in the evening and a crowd had already formed by six, and we weren't expecting her till seven. A group from school had been invited and the girls, Clare and Jess and also Emmalee were excitedly doing last minute decorating, all things pink and lilac. A nervousness engulfed me, I really felt quite sick, envisaging an outbreak of tears, by both me or her, or both. Strangely everyone focused on Magdala, no one on me, and it's not like I craved any attention, but it was assumed I was okay with everything and that I would cope. But as the time dawned I wasn't so confident of my own actions, of my ability to deal with what lay ahead.

  I'd texted Magdala that morning and said I'd catch up with her that evening, and she said yes, that would be nice, she would have dinner at her parents and see me after that. So Cassian gave her the pretense that he was driving her home, then he told her he was detouring to my place to get me, and then, of course, she would see all the cars and know something was up.

  She definitely looked overwhelmed when she saw the turnout, and I could see her trying to hold herself together. Mom was all over her, then Antonia and Trey and she looked around, it was hard to say who she was searching for, but her eyes lit up at recognition of various faces, her cousins, aunts, uncles, my sister, school friends. I hung back, already feeling the emotion building, unsure of whether I should even approach her. The cake had been done in a shape of a teddy bear and that reminded me of Berty, the bear we had buried with Cassidy, her favorite one. It was another reason to get choked up.

  James came up to me, patted my back, "How you doing?" I shrugged, not wanting to open my mouth, worried I would lose it. He kept his hand on my shoulder. "You want a beer Flynn?" he asked, "I'll get you a beer." And he went, almost like he didn't want to be caught with me if I couldn't hold it together, like he wouldn't know how to comfort me. He seemed relieved when he dropped me back the beer and saw Cassian had joined me.

  Cassian had brought me a
plate of nibbles, and I'd taken a pastry case that had flaked all over me with one bite, so I was busily brushing crumbs off me. I tried to laugh it off.

  "Hey," he said, assisting me, and handing me a napkin, "can you believe it's been a year?"

  I wiped at my mouth, just nodded. "It was like the best day of my life," he continued.

  I nodded again, and laughed. "You did do an awesome job," I admitted. "Especially when Magdala was refusing to have the baby."

  He laughed, "She was so funny." And he had a nostalgic look about him as he was reminiscing. "You guys were such good parents," he said. Then he looked at me. "You do know that, don't you?"

  No one had told me that, or if they had I had never registered it. And to hear it from Cassian, who I openly despised, was a revelation. It was almost as if he sensed my despair, sensed my sadness, when no one else was considering me at all. It was highly ironic. I took a long swig of my beer.

  "Hey, I know I'm probably the last person you want to be talking to," he said candidly, " but you have my respect for the way you were a father to Cassidy." He nodded at me, the look in his eyes genuine, and I felt somewhat overcome, lowered my head. Because this time last year I had become a father, a dad. And now my daughter was dead. And at that moment I lost it. Just randomly lost it.

  And Cassian held me, in a hug. I felt a mixture of emotion, of rage and grief, of love and hate, of resentment, of unfairness, of my daughter's life snatched away. And he said nothing, just held me, let me cry, let me sob on his shoulder, like I was a kid and he was a parent. His arm came around the back of me, but there was no awkwardness, because it seemed as if he knew, that he understood what I was going through. Magdala had told me that he was intuitive to her needs, and here he was was, comforting me, even though we both knew that he was not my favorite person.