When the food came we could eat, at least, and Ray across the table occupied James’ attention for some time with a mini-tirade against people nowadays spending more of their time living the lives of their video-game avatars than they did living the real thing, a rant James heard out with his usual patience and focused attention.
It was a relief when the food and ice cream and singing waiters were dispensed with, and we turned our attention to roasting Nadina and watching her open a few gifts. Plenty of jokey, cold-weather clothes for Cleveland; a picture frame from Sonya saying “Love” that held a picture of a guy in a Hamburglar-style convict outfit; a stethoscope for her to use on dogs.
The party broke up soon after. Taking leave generally of everyone and avoiding James’ eyes, I helped Nadina stuff the gifts in her backpack, walked her out to the bus stop and waited with her until the bus came. When she was safely on, I stood watching it driving away, resting my forehead against the cool pole.
“Cass?”
Glancing around quickly, I couldn’t make out where the voice came from until a figure emerged from the shadows. I recognized the precise movements before anything else. “Hello, James.”
“Walking home? Can I give you a ride?”
“I was going to cross the street and catch the bus the other direction,” I began.
“Please.”
Not knowing what else to do, I followed him to his car. It was hard not to hope just a little bit on the ride home that he missed me and maybe wanted to get back together, but he didn’t speak. When we pulled up in the driveway, I ventured, “Would you like to come in for a minute?”
He shook his head. “Thank you, no. I just wanted to say that I hope we can get over this awkward stage. No hard feelings, you know.”
“No, no,” I agreed hastily. “No hard feelings.”
“I was glad you came into the office for the cake last month, but I hope you’ll feel free to come in as frequently as you used to. Riley’s been pretty clear that he works better with you that way.”
“Yes,” I replied vaguely. “I’ve been busy with things, but I told Riley and Jeri I would be getting back into the routine when life settled down some.” As in, when my awkwardness and lingering feelings for James settled down some.
A pause. “Cass, I’m seeing someone else now.” My stomach sank. Crud. Not missing me, then. “I wanted to tell you before you heard from anyone else.”
“Thank you,” I answered, unclenching my hands and sitting on them so my disappointment wouldn’t be so obvious. “What’s—what’s her name?”
“Mira. She’s great. Maybe one day you could meet her.” Oh, yeah, that sounded like fun. “How are things going with Nadina and the adoption?” he went on.
“Okay, so far. She’s healthy, the baby’s healthy. There might be a hitch getting Mike to sign the adoption consent form, but we’ll deal with that later. Thank you for asking.”
“How about your living situation?”
“Oh, I’ve got a couple months yet,” I replied. “I’ll probably move in the summer. She’s not due until September, but I’ll need some time to get set up and to find someone to replace me at the Palace.”
“Will you live on your own?”
His questions were starting to stress me out because I had put off thinking about them. “I don’t know yet. I was even thinking I might ask Louella if she would mind having us underfoot. If I could find a housemate who wouldn’t mind a baby, it’d be nice to have adult company.” As soon as I said it I blushed, thinking he might misconstrue that comment as a hint or a reproach.
He fiddled with the cuff of his sweater. “Why not just stay with Joanie and Phyl and…Daniel?”
I smiled ruefully. “If it were just Joanie and Phyl I would in a heartbeat, even though they’ll probably get married eventually. I wish I could…I love it here. But can you imagine Daniel? I wouldn’t even have the nerve to ask.”
“Because you think he’d say no?”
I thought about this. “Because I think he’d say yes,” I said slowly. “And I like him too well to do that to him.”
“You like him too well to ask him,” James repeated. “And, if I’m not mistaken, he likes you too well to say no.”
What was he getting at, for crying out loud? Did James suspect Daniel had a thing for me, too? I was not going to deal with this. I could not deal with this. “We’re friends,” I said firmly. “We’ve become friends.”
“Does he know that?”
“Where exactly are we going with this discussion?” I demanded. When he didn’t answer, I reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride home, James. I’ll see you around.”
Before I could get out, his hand was on my arm, detaining me. “Don’t be annoyed, Cass. I know it’s none of my business anymore, but I can’t help caring what happens to you.” His gray eyes were apologetic. “I couldn’t—be who you wanted me to be, but I want you to be happy.”
Feeling an ominous lump in my throat, I nodded and got out.
• • •
The Palace was streaming with light, and the sound of voices and laughter greeted me at the door. Joanie had told me after Easter that, in the spirit of new beginnings, she was giving up her dating hiatus, so this must be the result. Or maybe Daniel had given up his, too. Not feeling super social after seeing James, I made to slide past the kitchen doorway and head upstairs, but Joanie called me, her voice warm and thrilled. “Cass! Look who just got here.”
Before I turned I knew who it was—why else would she sound so excited? Perry. He jumped up from his barstool to give me one of his bear hugs.
“We’re celebrating and mourning!” he crowed, pointing at the wine bottle Daniel was opening. “Come join us.”
“What are we mourning and what are we celebrating?” I asked, my voice still unsteady, letting him lead me to the table. It was only my housemates and Perry after all. I didn’t look at Daniel.
“Such an optimist,” teased Perry. “If you want to get the mourning over with, we’re mourning the fact that my divorce is final, and Betsy and I are truly history— ” My eyes met Joanie’s over my wineglass as she filled it—it looked like she at least was moving on to the celebrating. “And also that my dear sister Cassandra has been soundly dumped by Sweet Baby James—”
“Unless he repented tonight..?” prompted Joanie.
“A hardened sinner,” I answered lightly. “He’s already dating someone new.” To forestall their reactions I added, “And what are we celebrating?”
“Well, for one thing, we are celebrating my new niece or nephew—”
“Nephew,” I said, eliciting cheers. “And one who looks perfectly healthy and almost five months along.”
“And for another,” continued Perry when we quieted down, “I’ve been offered a part in a new regional production of the much-acclaimed Waiters: the Musical, that of Gaspar of the High-End Restaurant.”
“Was Gaspar the one played by that hammy understudy who got trashed by the Oregonian?” I asked dubiously.
“The very same, so I hope to improve on his performance.”
“In Portland?” asked Joanie.
“No, no—a new regional production up in Bellingham,” said Perry, “which brings me to my third cause for celebration: Cass and I are moving in together!”
“We’re what?” I gasped into the sudden silence. “Where?”
“In Bellingham, of course,” replied Perry matter-of-factly, oblivious to the reactions around us. “You and my nephew need a new home; I’m tired of living with randoms off of Craig’s List; all we have is each other—it’s perfect.”
“You—you can’t steal Cass!” sputtered Joanie.
“I’m not stealing her,” objected Perry. “Bellingham isn’t that far, and wouldn’t you rather have her live with me than that old lady from church she was going to hit up?”
“At least Louella Murphy lives in Bellevue,” Joanie insisted. “And Cass’s friends are here, and her church is here, and her
job—”
“Are you honestly going to keep working for Free Universe, if you’ve got to see that James hanging around all the time?” Perry turned on me. “That must be awkward as all get out.”
“It will only get less awkward, as time goes on,” argued Joanie. “If she even continues with it, but what’s she going to do in Bellingham? There are more jobs here than in Bellingham, and her adoption lawyer’s in Seattle.”
“Why do you have to move out?” asked Daniel, right next to me. This was too much! When did my life become something decided in committee? Everyone had a plan for me and an opinion on how best to run my life: James, Perry, Joanie. God, for that matter.
“Stop it!” I cried, pushing my untouched wineglass away. “All of you!”
It was unjust to Phyl, who had said nothing, and to Daniel, who did address me directly, but I included them in my general hand wave. “Stop planning my life and making decisions for me as if I weren’t here—I have to make them myself! This isn’t a group decision. I love you all, but I have to do it myself. Please.”
To my chagrin, I felt the tears that had been so near the surface all evening threatening at the back of my eyes. Before they could spill out, I tried to get out of the kitchen as fast as I could, shoving Daniel out of the way and running for the stairs. The last thing I heard before slamming my bedroom door behind me was the emptiness of their stunned silence.
Chapter 39: Plan C
Everyone gave me some space after that.
My brother returned to Portland after a few days; Joanie worked hard to swallow all the things she wanted to say (seeming to find it easier now that she knew Perry was moving closer); I continued to avoid Free Universe visits and James.
In the meantime, spring had truly arrived. The plants recognized its advent long before the weather, which continued gray and cool and rainy even as May drew to a close. Acting on some unseen cue in March, everything began growing like mad. The ornamental cherries and plums lining the streets burst into snowy blossoms followed by new leaves, the grass grew an inch every night, it seemed, and Phyl’s painstakingly-planted bulbs exploded in blocks of vivid tulips and waving daffodils. When the sun finally did emerge one Sunday near Memorial Day, beaming down upon us from a cloudless blue sky, the world felt new-made, fresh from the hand of the Creator.
I walked home from service slowly, drinking it in. It was so warm that I pulled off my cotton cardigan, letting the sun play on my bare arms. If only it could stay like this forever, or at least till October. On such a day, it seemed a shame to spend even a moment indoors, so when I reached the Palace I let myself through the side gate into the backyard, there to lean on the deck railing with my eyes shut. Vitamin D. I am making Vitamin D.
Perhaps five minutes later I heard the sound of the Lean-To door opening, but I didn’t open my eyes. The railing flexed as Daniel leaned against it.
Time to face facts, I guessed.
“You could, of course, stay here.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, but without preface, as if he were just continuing the kitchen conversation from a couple weeks ago. “There’s plenty of room in the house.”
Reluctantly I opened my eyes. Hard to say which was more blinding, the sudden glare of the sunshine or him, closer than I thought. Although his voice was light, I could see his hands gripping the deck railing as he stood with his back against it.
It was what I had not even allowed myself to hope for, loving the Palace and Joanie and Phyl and even him, as I did. But it troubled me that he would offer. “Daniel—”
“If you move out, Cass, it wouldn’t be the same here anymore,” he interrupted.
“Daniel,” I began again. “If I stay here, with the baby, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. I’ve—I’ve had a baby before. Min turned my life upside down—she turned the house upside down, for Pete’s sake. You don’t know what you’re saying, not that I don’t appreciate the offer and the mark of friendship.” He exhaled sharply, but I pressed on, anxious to lay all the objections before him so he could withdraw his offer gracefully. “I know Joanie and Phyl wouldn’t mind—they’ve told me so—but who knows how long Phyl can hold out before she says yes to Wayne, and the same could be true for Joanie, if she would only just pick someone. If I stayed with the baby, how could you ever get new people to rent? And what would you tell your girlfriends? It’s too bizarre. And if you decided it wasn’t working, you’d feel bad kicking a lady and a baby out. It’s too much to ask of you—I mean, you’ve never even wanted to be married, much less have kids.”
“I have wanted to be married,” he broke in suddenly. Before I could do more than blink at him in surprise, he had my bare arms in a hard grip. “I have wanted to be married, Cass.”
“What—what are you talking about?” I stammered.
His blue eyes were blazing at me, and though I felt answering heat in my cheeks, I couldn’t think what on earth to say. My incredulous look angered him for some reason, and he gave me a little shake. “God, what an opinion you have of me! I’ve wanted to say something to you a million times these last few months, but you would never give me an opening. If I ever tried to let you know that I cared about you, you would shut me down, change the subject. Well, you’re going to listen to me now. No way am I letting you walk out of my life—you can adopt one baby or ten babies, I don’t care, as long as you’ll stay.”
Then Phyl and Perry and even James had guessed right? Daniel was laboring under the delusion that he was interested in me?
He must be out of his mind to be talking like this. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but he seemed to read my expression because his grasp on my arms tightened almost painfully, and he jerked me against his chest, crushing my lips to his. Frozen with shock, it took me an instant to respond. I put up my hands to push him away but instead found them clutching his shirt. Waves of warmth began to wash over me, starting somewhere in my center and radiating outward, until I found I was kissing him back. With enthusiasm. He tasted wonderful. Crazily, I had the urge to laugh—no wonder women loved him!
Daniel heard or felt the gurgle in my throat, and he pulled back abruptly to look at me. Blushing again, I realized we were both panting a little and my arms were around his neck. His voice came low. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You could love me, Cass, if you let yourself.”
Gently I untangled myself, and pushing away from his chest I tried to speak lightly. “Of course I could, Daniel. You could have pretty much any woman on earth—”
He brushed this off and stepped closer to me to close the gap. “Don’t. I tell you—I tell you I love you. Do you think you could love me?”
Backing away again, I felt the deck railing behind me. He had me cornered, so clearly I would have to go on the offensive. “Daniel, be serious. I think you just can’t stand to have any woman around who isn’t dying of love for you, although you weren’t very nice to Phyl about it. For the longest time you couldn’t manage to talk to me without flirting, and it used to make me so angry. And here I’d thought you’d gotten better.”
“You think I’m flirting with you?” he growled. “You think I could have stayed single this long if I flirted with women by telling them I loved them and asking them to marry me?” When I merely raised a skeptical eyebrow, he said slowly, “It’s true that I was flirting with you in the very beginning. I didn’t mean to—Joanie told me what you’d gone through—but you always seemed so self-contained, so unrattled by me. It was a challenge, at first, irresistible. I liked trying to make you blush, or getting your goat because your eyes would fire up, and you would rap out some comeback. It was unforgivable, I know. I could tell from your expression that you couldn’t understand why I acted the way I did and that you resented it, but you were like that damned Snow Goddess you voiced: frozen asleep, suspended, waiting for the challenger to bring you back to life.” He shook his head grimly. “It wasn’t until that idiot James came around that I realized what had happened, that I was in love with you—and not just starting t
o fall for you—I was pretty far gone already. It had been so gradual I couldn’t even figure out the starting point.”
Just like Troy and the yearbook, then, I thought, fighting that urge to laugh. Or James, for that matter. Apparently all it took to turn me into a femme fatale was to have me underfoot, unnoticed, for a given amount of time. Daniel seemed sincere in his way, but my imagination wasn’t up to the task of picturing marriage with him. Not that it would take too much imagination—any marriage to Daniel would at least be guaranteed to be brief.
“Daniel,” I said more steadily, “do you know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I think you’ve never had a woman friend before, and we’ve become friends. There’s always some…sexual…tension at first, until it gets resolved. I think that’s what’s happening here.”
“Friendship,” he repeated flatly. “That would explain why it’s so hard to be around you without wanting to touch you. And why I had fantasies about breaking James’ legs whenever I saw him. And why I’ve wondered a thousand times what would happen if I just stuffed you in the trunk of the car, drove to Las Vegas, and refused to let you out until you agreed to marry me.”
Okay, so he wasn’t buying the friendship theory.
“Daniel,” I tried again. “I’m…flattered…that you feel this way, but if you first liked me because I seemed—I don’t know—inaccessible, don’t you think once you had me you’d get over it pretty quickly?”
His eyes got their customary wicked gleam. “Good point. I don’t think so, but we’d better make sure.” Taking my face in his hands, he made to kiss me again, so I shoved him away, starting to feel angry. I couldn’t tell, though, if I was angry with him for his sheer nerve or with myself for half-wanting to give in.
“It seemed pretty effective in helping you get over every other woman you’ve been involved with,” I pointed out.
Mourning Becomes Cassandra Page 39