by Ines Saint
Cassie’s voice-mail greeting came on. Friendly and upbeat. As if she wasn’t messing with other people’s lives. Like the last time he’d called her over and over and over again. Last time, she hadn’t asked callers to leave a detailed message after the beep. “Where the hell are you?” he asked, teeth clenched, after the beep. “Everyone’s been calling you. Everyone. It’s not just me you’re letting down, don’t you get that?” he asked, his voice rising. “And it wasn’t just me last time, either. You took my car, knowing my uniform and gear were in the trunk, and you promised you’d get back on time. You never did, and we lost the game in part because of you. You let my whole team down, and you’re doing it again. I lost my scholarship last time, do you even know that? Do you even care that I got chewed out in front of everyone? I lost my scholarship and now I’m about to lost my whole damn business, and you’re off doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing that you can’t even answer our calls.” He threw the phone at the wall and it split into pieces. Another expense to add on to his never-ending list.
He ran both hands through his hair and down his face and turned to see his brothers gawking at him. They’d heard. He kicked his desk and threw himself down into his chair. He didn’t look at them and they didn’t move.
Finally, Dan blew a breath out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
The alarm on Sandy’s cell phone woke them up. They looked at each other, both groggy-eyed and anxious. Cassie glanced down at her phone. It was dead. She shot up and connected it to her mother’s charger. A minute later, she saw she had twelve missed calls. She got out of bed, still dressed in the same suit she’d worn around Cincinnati the day before, and went to the bathroom to get herself as ready as possible while her phone charged enough for her to make some calls.
“I think we should stay here and hide out today, since we’re holding the meeting with your father and Jim Carney here,” Sandy said. “No newspapers and no more TV. I’m not ready to face this. I need time.”
“I can’t. I have to go to work.” Cassie rushed out of the bathroom and tried desperately to smooth the wrinkles out of her suit while she searched for her shoes.
“What?” Her mother sat up. “You can’t leave me alone. Not today.”
Cassie stared at her mother’s face and swallowed hard. She looked more vulnerable than ever. “I’m sorry, but Dad’s alone, too,” she said without thinking. At some point during the night, when she’d been desperately thinking about all the people counting on her, she’d realized this was her parents’ problem. A problem that affected her, but that she couldn’t let affect everyone else around her too. She listened to Emily’s early morning voice mail, then Holly’s, and then Johnny’s, with increasing shame. How could she have overslept?
“Your father? You’re thinking about your father? He brought this down on himself, and he brought it down on all of us, only we didn’t get to have the pleasure he had!”
She wasn’t doing this. There was no reasoning with her mom. Cassie slipped her shoes on, grabbed her purse and phone, and left. She texted everyone that she was on her way as she walked to the stairs, and then put her phone to her ear to listen to her messages as she rushed down. She was about to open the door to the lobby when she got to Sam’s voice mail.
She had never heard him so angry. His words froze her lungs and nearly brought her to her knees.
His uniform, in the trunk of his car, which she’d borrowed to follow her dad after her mother had showed up at her door, crying and disheveled, begging Cassie to borrow a car so they could follow her dad because he was in Columbus that day and it would be the perfect time to see if Janice’s words were true.
That was the day they’d actually caught him.
And when she’d finally gotten around to returning his uniform, she’d caught Sam kissing the beautiful blond girl. The thought that she’d missed his game and hadn’t gotten his uniform to him on time had fled the little space she’d devoted to it in her mind. Seeing her dad kissing her old babysitter and watching her mom have a mental breakdown had left little enough room.
It had never even occurred to her that he could have been suspended for not having that uniform. That he could lose his scholarship. It wasn’t until she gulped that she realized she was swallowing tears. She opened the lobby door with shaky hands.
She now had to face a part of the past and present she hadn’t even been aware of. Sam had counted on her once, because she’d told him he could, and she’d let him down. She was doing it all over again. And no matter what was going in her own life, she’d have to face up to it.
Her mom and dad would have to face everything, too.
The gigantic screen in the lobby was tuned to local TV. A huge picture of her freckled, sandy-haired, sincere-smiling dad was on the screen. “Big news out of Washington today. The Washington Post has learned that Max McGillicuddy, the popular senator from Ohio, carried on a secret two-year affair with his daughter’s former babysitter, who was also the daughter of his own secretary. Brittany Stine has offered physical proof of the affair and says she’s coming forward now because—”
Cassie rushed out the revolving door, knowing she had to block the scandal for now. If she could just keep moving, she could keep her thoughts at bay.
It was drizzling and Cassie sprinted to her car, calling Holly along the way, telling her she’d meet them all at Sam’s office in twenty minutes.
Why hadn’t Sam told her about his lost scholarship? His long-ago attempts to talk to her came back to her. She hadn’t let him explain a thing. After years of listening to twisted versions of truths on both her father’s and his opponent’s campaigns, after her father’s own betrayal and pathetic excuses, there was no way she’d have believed anything he said.
It still hurt, but she could see it clearly now. A young Sam being yelled at in front of his team, feeling like he’d let everyone down, and getting stripped of his scholarship . . . feeling let down by her.
He’d let her down and she’d never forgiven him. But she’d let him down first. What she’d done didn’t excuse him. But what he’d done didn’t excuse her either.
Sam faced his brother’s questions, shame slowly turning into a painful kind of relief.
“I can help with next month’s mortgage payments—” Dan was saying.
“No,” Sam said, adamant.
“It would be a loan—” he continued.
“No.” Sam slammed his fist down that time. “If we take care of what’s happening right here and right now, everything else will take care of itself. I believe that. All I need is for one of you to print new fliers and the other to get vanilla sugar cookies started at every house while I suit up to greet potential buyers.”
“Cookies? That’s the help you want from me.” Dan threw his hands up in the air. “Do I look like Betty Crocker to you? I’ll suit up, you print the fliers, and Johnny will bake. And we’ll revisit the topic of a loan later.”
Johnny’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know the first thing about baking. I’ll suit up, you—”
He was interrupted by Holly, who’d opened the door and stepped inside. “Cassie’s on her way.” She looked at Sam. “She says she’s been trying to call you, but she’s almost out of battery.” Dan and Johnny’s eyes trailed to Sam’s busted-up phone on the floor. Holly followed their gaze, closed her eyes, and shook her head, as if she didn’t want to know. “She’s bringing the fliers by first. If we each take a batch of fliers, we can distribute them just in time, while she heads off to change and set up. Apparently, she’s still in yesterday’s clothes.”
Yesterday’s clothes? Concern flooded the pit of his stomach and the accusations he’d flung at her voice mail came back to him.
The door opened and everyone turned toward it. Megan Cornerstone poked her head inside. “Oh my God, did you all hear?” she asked, sounding both shocked and concerned.
“Hear what?” Holly shook her head.
“Senator McGillicuddy had an affair with Cassie�
��s babysitter ten years ago. I just saw it on my phone. It’s breaking news. We’re thinking that’s why no one can find Cassie.” It took several beats for Megan’s words to sink in. No one said anything for a long moment. “I never did like him,” Megan continued. “But I like Cassie. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling.”
Finally, Dan swore under his breath, and they all looked at each other.
“Ten years ago,” Johnny repeated, looking at Sam. “Did Cassie know? Did you know?”
Sam pinched his nose. Ten years ago . . . Of course Cassie had known. Something like that would’ve torn her world apart.
Cassie ran into Sam’s office. Everyone was staring at her, looking as if they didn’t know quite what to do or say, and Cassie suddenly knew they knew. Tears threatened to fall. Everything was being blown wide open. Her family’s ugly secrets. The fact that they were all a pack of frauds selling a lie in campaign photo after campaign article after interview . . .
Her soul felt bare and too raw to be able to look anyone in the face. She plopped the fliers on a coffee table and said, “Pass them out now. We have just enough time.” She swallowed. “I’ve got to go get stuff ready. It’ll all get done. I promise.”
She left the office not knowing what to do or where to go next. She had to change. She had no fresh clothes. Her mother kept calling her and she hated herself for not answering. But she knew if she did, her own life would be sucked out of her and she’d wind up a prisoner of her mother’s anger and misery once again.
Selfish? Maybe. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t do it again. Ignoring her mother’s calls filled her with guilt. Ignoring everyone else who was counting on her would fill her with shame. And ignoring her own needs was no longer an option. She couldn’t spiral into a depression, only to wake up a year later, not knowing where her life had gone, again.
Before she could take another step, though, Sam and Holly each had one hand on her shoulders and were steering her back into the office. People at the park across the street were staring at her. “Right. I need to get ready,” she said to Sam and Holly, to fill the awkwardness surrounding them with words. If she kept talking about the details of the day, other things could be kept at bay. “Someone around here must have some clothes that fit me . . .”
“Emily called Jessica, who told her your size. Jessica’s already on her way, and Emily’s finding clothes for you. Don’t worry about a thing until she gets here, I’ll start distributing fliers.” Holly gave her a quick hug. “I’m a phone call away if you need me,” she whispered. “But I know you’ll be okay here with your old friends.” She smiled into her eyes and gave her one last squeeze.
Holly left and Cassie was left alone with her three oldest friends. They were quiet for a long while, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.
“You and Sam are more alike than most people think,” Dan said to her after a while.
Cassie looked at him like he was crazy. He must’ve gotten the same look from Sam, because he pointed at him and said, “You know Johnny and I overheard the message you left Cassie this morning. You didn’t tell any of us about the scholarship, and you haven’t told anyone about your business being in trouble because you don’t want to worry anyone. And you,” he said, looking at Cassie, “you didn’t tell us about your parents because you were protecting them and I get that, but I can’t help wonder who’s been protecting and taking care of both of you.”
Sam shot him a look. “You’re beginning to sound like our resident shrink here,” he said, nodding toward Johnny.
“Is that an invitation for me to tell you my theory, in layman’s terms?” Johnny grinned and Cassie smiled despite herself.
“No,” she and Sam said in unison.
“Because here’s what I think,” Johnny began, ignoring them. “You and Sam care more about the people and things around you than you do about yourselves, but you can’t take care of others if you don’t take care of yourselves first. We can’t choose every little thing that happens to us, but we can choose the people we share the good and bad with, and that’s probably the best thing anyone can do to take care of themselves.”
Cassie watched him a moment. “That actually makes simple sense, Dr. Johnny.”
“I know.” Johnny sighed and shrugged. Sam and Dan exchanged a look of fake exasperation.
Cassie laughed and took a good look at the Amador boys, grateful she could fall off their radar for ten years, yet still be able to count on them. Johnny was a wise old man inside a mischievous imp, Dan had that air of command and being in control, and Sam still wore his quiet, magnetic presence like a shield.
But they were no longer boys. They were men now. Good men and genuine people.
A young, sandy-haired boy she’d never met before hovered by the door, holding a garment bag and looking unsure of himself.
Dan opened the door and went outside, exchanged a few words with him, and came back, holding out the garment bag. “Here. It’s Emily’s. She thinks it’ll be a little long, but it should fit better than anything Holly owns, ’cause Holly’s a shrimp.” Dan grinned and Cassie had to shake her head at how love struck he looked and sounded.
But the moment she took the luxe, camel-colored skirt and blazer in her hands, she again came crashing down to reality. It looked expensive, like something her mother would wear and something Cassie would avoid, because she’d mess it up. Once she put it on, it would be time to go outside and face the world—without messing up. “The news about my parents is everywhere,” she said, looking up.
Johnny hesitated before nodding affirmatively.
Cassie sighed. “These reporters, they’re all about digging and looking for angles. I was interviewed about Open Town a few times . . . it won’t be long before they’re here, take one look at my hair, and know who I am. I’ll be a distraction. I think I should just stay here and field any questions potential buyers might have. My agents will be in place soon, and all Dan, Jessica, and I were going to do was set up and be on call to go anywhere we were needed.”
Sam, Johnny, and Dan spoke at once, all three sounding anxious and saying something about supporting her and how she should go upstairs and try to get some sleep, but that they needed her recipe for cookies first. Cassie shook her head and grinned despite everything. “You’re worried about cookies?”
“Even Holly says the vanilla scent is important—some chemistry stuff about how and why it makes the house smell like a home and triggers something or other in people,” Dan explained.
“It triggers their nesting instinct,” Johnny supplied.
“I need to make people want to nest in my houses, Cass. I can’t have the houses smelling like burnt cookies.” Sam’s eyes were wild. “All we need is for someone to explain to us how to make these cookies.”
She looked between them, for the first time since the night before remembering good feelings and good times. She decided she wanted to keep moving forward, and that she could take a page out of her mom’s book to do so. “I don’t want to jeopardize the event, but I don’t want to hide out, either. I have Dolly’s blond wig in the car . . . How about Dolly sets up, bakes vanilla sugar cookies, and runs around helping out wherever she’s needed?”
Sam looked into her eyes, his own dark with concern. “You don’t have to do that, Cass.”
Johnny’s eyes lit up. “Look at her. It’s exactly what she needs.”
Open Town was a runaway hit. Sam was called upon to talk to potential buyers, old house enthusiasts, and curious people more times than he felt comfortable with, but for the most part, the conversations were easy. It was his favorite subject matter, after all.
He ran into Cassie a few times. She’d concealed her freckles with makeup and had tied the platinum wig back in a low ponytail, but the over-the-top bangs never ceased to make him do a double take. Crazy as the idea was, it worked. The too-long, too-tight skirt and too-tight blazer gave her the look of a woman with expensive taste but no sense of style.
A few reporters
had snooped around, but they left when they were told Cassidy McGillicuddy had gone to be with her family during their difficult time. The one time it had been said in front of Cassie, Sam had seen shame written all over her face. So he’d shot a picture of her backside and showed her how funny she looked in the ill-fitting skirt.
It had gotten her angry enough at him to forget the comment.
Most people banded together to protect both Cassie and the town from unwanted attention.
Ruby told a potential buyer who was asking more questions about Max McGillicuddy than about the town that the tea leaves in her fortune-telling tea formed an arrow pointing east, and that “the forces that be” wanted her to buy in a town in that direction instead.
Jenna Woods had looked into the teacup and backed Ruby up. “Definitely an arrow pointing east,” she’d said, nodding.
Sam would probably always have his share of disagreements with people who wanted to change too many things, but he’d learned that, for the most part, people who chose Spinning Hills chose it for similar reasons: It had visible warts and it took a certain kind of person to embrace them.
Possibly people who were familiar and comfortable with life’s warts.
Sam was rushing to Huffy’s to get ready for his performance when Lisa, one of his Realtors, caught up to him. “We have an offer,” she exclaimed, showing him a number on a contract. Sam stopped short, closed his eyes, and breathed out, slowly. “Two offers in one day, no wonder you’re reeling,” she observed.
Sam’s eyes popped open. “Two?”
“Cassie hasn’t told you her news yet?”
Sam shook his head and caught sight of Cassie rounding a corner. Her ridiculous wig and the news made him want to pick her up and swing her around. But she was looking down at her phone and frowning. “Excuse me,” he said to Lisa, who looked like she understood.
“Hey,” he called out.
“You heard the news?” she asked when she saw Lisa behind him. Her smile was genuine, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was going to call you right away, but I got sidetracked. Both offers came from people who had visited before today, so it’s very possible people who just came today will be offering soon, too. With the huge increase in foot traffic, that should spell plenty of good news for you.”