Turning Point

by Lara Zielinsky

  Pretty smart words, she castigated herself. Too bad I have to drag my sons through my lessons. Twice.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, James?”

  He pinned her with a questioning look. “What do you really want?”

  “Cassidy” immediately came to mind, but she held the name back. In a while, she thought, after they’ve adjusted a little more. But James needed an answer. “To be loved for who I am and not what someone wants me to be.”

  He bit his lip. She reached out and pulled him against her, feeling him squeeze lightly around her waist. She looked over to Thomas, who nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Chapter 40

  Cassidy put her and Ryan’s suitcases on the end of the full-size bed that took up much of the space in the cozy corner bedroom. Two windows draped in gingham that matched the bedspread opened on the view of the modest backyard of her parŹents’ suburban St. Louis home.

  The squat dresser was dominated by a large mounted oval mirror. Looking into it, seeing the room’s reflection, was like dropping back in time. Cassidy plucked a picture from its carved wood frame. She smiled at her self at sixteen on horseback. After living several years in one place and finally feeling settled, she had learned to ride. By high school graduation she had become an adept horsewoman and spent some of her happiest hours in the saddle. It had been a true break from her heavy academic load and the extracurricular activities of Key Club, Student Government, and drama.

  Maybe when the snow cleared she could come back out and take Ryan across these hills for his own equestrian experience. He was old enough now. Actually, Brenna might enjoy it, too.

  Cassidy smiled at the thought of introducing Brenna to her family. She would probably get along well with Cassidy s mother. With a sigh, she set the picture back in the frame and wished anew that she had been able to see Brenna one last time before the holidays. She’d had to settle for a brief phone call as she rushed for the airŹport. As she shuffled clothing from the suitcase to the dresser drawers, she pulled off the long-sleeved blouse she had worn out of L.A. Reaching into the left-hand dresser drawer, she pulled out the North St. Louis High School River Rats sweatshirt and donned it, completing her homecoming ritual.

  “Cass?” Her mother appeared in the doorway. “Oh, good. I see you found everything.”

  “Of course I found everything. You and Dad haven’t changed a thing in this room since I left for college.”

  “Always good to have a place to come home to.” Her mother, Sylvia, sat on the bed. “Are you sure you don’t want to put Ryan in with Jimmy?”

  Cassidy shook her head. “This way I’ll be able to read his bedtime stories.” She turned back to the clothes in Ryan’s luggage, pulling them out. Setting the pajamas to the side for the night, the rest she tucked in the top drawer of the empty dresser.

  “But it isn’t right you should sleep with your son. He’s old enough to sleep on his own.”

  Leaning back against the dressing table, Cassidy waved off the concern. “We’re comfortable with it. He likes knowing where I am.”

  Sylvia frowned. “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll pull out the trundle.” She stood. “I have to get back to the kitchen. There’s cocoa and coffee available.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute to help with dinner.”

  “We’ll be going to the service tonight,” Sylvia said. “What’s Ryan wearing?” Cassidy pulled out a red turtleneck and long pants from Ryan’s things. Sylvia asked, “Didn’t you bring a suit for him?”

  After a moment of confusion, Cassidy shook her head. “No.”

  Her mother’s frown deepened. “I’ll see if I have one of Jimmy’s old suits in the basement trunks.” Shaking her head, Sylvia left the room. Cassidy looked at the tur-

  tleneck, finding It perfcctly suitable.

  She moved from her son’s things to her own, pulling out an off-white pantsuit and forest green cotton scoop-neck blouse. She hung each in the closet after a quick shake to loosen the travel wrinkles. After hanging the rest of her things, she moved to tucking away her undergarments in another drawer.

  She frowned at a small shallow box wrapped in shiny maroon paper trimmed with dark green velvet ribbon. “I thought I left this at home.” It was Brenna’s gift, but with the change in her flight time, Cassidy had not had a chance to take it by her home. “I’ll just have to give it to her when I get back to town.” With a fond smile, she tucked it back into the suitcase, hoping Brenna would like the silk scarf and small rose clasp. Brenna favored scarves as final touches on her outfits, and Cassidy hoped her selection would be an acceptable way to express her private feelings for Brenna without being obvious to the public.

  She was looking forward to presenting Brenna with the gift. She’d been smiling ever since purchasing the gauzy red scarf, and her fingers tingled at the prospect of pinning it on her.

  “Something for under the tree?”

  “Oh, no.” Cassidy turned to find her mother standing in the doorway, now holding a small stack of folded clothes.

  “For Ryan. Hopefully everything will fit.” Sylvia passed the clothing.

  Cassidy looked at the gift box, considering again whether Brenna and her mother might like one another. “Mom, the next time I come for a visit, would it be all right if I brought someone?”

  Sylvia’s gaze lit up. “Are you considering marrying that fellow from L.A.?”

  “Cameron?” Cassidy shook her head. “No. I—”

  “Mommy! I ran all the way to the fence and back and didn’t fall once!” Ryan pushed enthusiastically past his grandmother and plowed into his mother’s legs, wrapping his arms around them and looking up her body as he gave a rambling recounting of his adventures outside in the snow-covered yard.

  “Stephy got a snowball, but Jimmy hit her first.”

  Sylvia asked, “Jimmy hit Steph?”

  “She was all wet. Jimmy ran away from her and fell down, but I didn’t. I didn’t, Mommy!”

  “That’s very good.” Cassidy ruffled his hair, pleased by his high color and excitement. “It’s time to clean up for dinner now. Change to dry clothes.”

  Sylvia nodded and left before Cassidy could re-address the topic of her bringŹing a guest.

  Despite the request to change, Ryan kept pausing in the task and telling his mother how to pack the “best snowballs”, demonstrating with his hands while his pants remained around his ankles. Cassidy finally grasped his hands, kissed his nose, and helped him finish changing — helping him step out of his pants, pull on new ones, and change to a long-sleeved green shirt.

  “Do you want a cup of cocoa?”

  “Yes!”

  With a smile, Cassidy led the way out of the bedroom, into the main area of the house, joining her gathering family. As an only child, and traveling as much as she had with her father’s military postings, extended family was the one constant.

  Her Uncle Travis, her father’s brother, looked up as she entered and then sprang to his feet. “Hey, Cassie girl! How’s it going?”

  Across from him, leaning back in a big stuffed brown leather recliner, Uncle

  Floyd, her mother’s brother, chimed in. “When’d you get in?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  “Cutting it a little close, ain’cha?” Travis wrapped one of his linebacker arms around her shoulders and ruffled Ryan’s hair as her son wrapped his slender arms around the man’s tree-trunk thigh. “Howdy, squirt.”

  She kissed Travis’ clean-shaven cheek and accepted a kiss on her own cheek before stepping back. Travis sat down and pulled Ryan into his lap. “I’ll be right back with cocoa.”

  “We’ve got it all together, don’t we, Ryan?” Travis chucked him under the chin and tickled his stomach.

  Cassidy heard the creak as Floyd lowered his chair. “Stay,” she encouraged. “What can I bring you?”

  “Nothing, thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Just hoping to catch up with you.” Floyd, her mother’s you
nger brother by two years, watched her move around her mother in the kitchen, finding the hot kettle on the stove top and pourŹing cocoa mix into two mugs, one for herself and one for Ryan. “Wasn’t sure we’d see you this year.”

  “I did have some trouble getting a flight, but at the last minute a space came through.”

  “You still happy out there among all them stars?”

  Cassidy stirred the cocoa and put down the spoon. “Just working hard like anyŹone else.”

  “Are you going to be finishing up soon?”

  “They tell us it’ll be done in April. We aren’t being renewed.”

  Moving the turkey from the oven to a platter on the counter, Sylvia interjected, “That’s good, then. You can move back here so Ryan can start school.”

  “I wasn’t planning to move home.”

  “You can’t raise Ryan out there all alone.”

  “I’m not alone, I’ve got friends, and I will get another job.” By rote, Cassidy took the turkey platter from her mother’s hands, walked out to the dining table, and set it in front of her father’s seat at the head of the table. “Is that the last item?” At Sylvia’s nod, she said, “Excuse me, I’ll take Ryan to wash up.” Feeling unsettled by the discussion, Cassidy left her mother and uncle and took Ryan to the bathroom, where they washed their hands for dinner.

  While she was doing that, Sylvia called the rest of the family to the table. Cassidy found Steph and Jimmy — her Uncle Floyd’s children — washing up at the kitchen sink, directed by their mother, Lydia. Floyd, her father, Gerry, and her mother were already moving to their seats. Travis entered from another room. “I’ve got Brenda down,” he reported, taking his seat.

  Cassidy pushed Ryan’s seat in and took the one next to him. “How is she doing?” she asked.

  “Bren? Oh, fine. She’s too little yet to know much about what’s going on.”

  Cassidy reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze in silent support. She felt him squeeze her hand back. Virginia “Ginny” Hockman, Travis’ wife of only two years, had died of a staph infection, leaving Travis with their newborn daughter, now just seven months old.

  “Travis is moving into the old Arbor place down the street so we can help him out,” Sylvia said.

  “Time for grace,” Gerry said, as he held his hands out to either side. Ryan took his right hand, Steph took his left. Everyone at the table grasped hands, and Gerry

  dropped his eyes, closing them briefly before speaking.

  “Dear Father in Heaven, You have gathered us together to witness the birth of the Living Word as the Wise Men foretold. We bless You for all that we receive in this world and in the Kingdom to come.”

  Cassidy echoed “amen” with the rest, surprised at how awkward she fell inside at the sentiments her father expressed. She didn’t recall grace at the table being so religiously formal. There had always been thanking God, but it had not seemed so much like an invocation.

  Her father carved the turkey, and plates began to circulate. As the dinner items moved from person to person, from cranberry sauce to cornbread stuffing to the creamed string beans, Cassidy served herself and Ryan, remaining quiet as she lisŹtened to the conversation that started up around her.

  Steph had entered junior high in September; Cassidy marveled at her poise. She sat quietly, unhurriedly eating, back straight, hair pinned up tidily. By contrast, at that age a pigtailed Cassidy had been always been in a hurry to get back outside, whether it was to run around the Army base playing tag or act out the skits she and the other military children had scribbled out. When she had gotten to high school and found the drama department, it had been an epiphany. She had been ecstatic when her father retired and she was told they would finally be staying put.

  Jimmy, at ten, seemed unusually quiet. He did not look up as the adults talked. He ate quickly, clearing his plate. Instead of asking for seconds, he asked to be excused. Lydia nodded her permission, and he was quickly gone from the table.

  Ryan ate with energy, commenting on everything — from the decorative lamb-shaped holiday salt-and-pepper shakers to the “stringy beans” catching in his teeth. And of course he had to show everyone the one missing incisor he had that made it “hard to chew right”.

  Several times as Cassidy reminded him to eat, she caught her mother studying them. She felt a surprising amount of disapproval coming from her, despite the fact that she never said anything directly.

  Her father was less restrained. “Ryan, sit down.” Ryan sat with a frown. “So, Cassie, tell us when you’ll be done with this television thing.”

  “Time Trails taping ends in April.”

  “So will we see you in the summer? Do you want us to come help you move home?”

  “I wasn’t planning to move back to St. Louis,” she said again.

  “Your divorce is final. Without Mitch supporting you, you obviously can’t raise Ryan by yourself. Your mother tells me that you’re no longer dating that writer,” her father said.

  “It’s time to give up this silly thing and come home,” her mother added. “Your room is still as you like it, and the other room will be Ryan’s.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Cassidy shook her head. “Ryan will be starting school next fall. Our life is in L.A. now. We’re doing fine.” The sensation that she had already had this conversation with Mitch was unnerving. “Have you talked to Mitch recently?”

  “He did call here to wish us a happy holiday.”

  “He did?” Cassidy chewed quietly as she considered why her ex-husband would be contacting her parents.

  “He seemed rather concerned about your arrangements for Ryan.”

  “I’ve got that all worked out. After school, he’s on the set with me.” From the expressions on their faces, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say. “He spends the

  time with a professional caregiver, and I get to see him on my breaks.”

  “And you plan to continue doing things like you’ve done on this show?” Her mother sounded the word distastefully.

  “Until April, certainly.”

  “And you’ll find another job from the friends you’ve made on this one?”

  Cassidy nodded. “There’s a theater run by one of them. I might try that for a while. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Ryan can’t live in that kind of environment.”

  “Is your problem with me, with L.A., or with something on the show?” Cassidy asked.

  “We object to the content, yes.”

  “What content?”

  Her mother looked pointedly at Steph and then Ryan across the table. “We’ll discuss it later.”

  That brought the topic abruptly to a close. Too abruptly. Cassidy looked from her mother to her father, then to Travis and Floyd to inquire silently if they felt the same. No one said anything. She returned her gaze to her mother. “It seems to be something everyone agrees on.”

  “In this house,” her mother said.

  “I see.” Not sure what to say and aware that whatever it was they did not want it discussed in front of the children, Cassidy pushed herself away from the table. “Excuse me, I’m finished. Ryan, come on; time to change our clothes.”

  She led Ryan from the dining table. In the room, she looked at the size of the pants her mother had provided. Realizing they would be too long for him to wear, she put him in the clothes she had brought. Pulling the turtleneck over Ryan’s head, she sent him to the bathroom with instructions to potty, wash his hands, and brush his teeth. While alone, she quickly changed and joined him in the bathroom, brushŹing his hair and then her own and cleaning her own teeth.

  They were finished and emerging as Steph and Jimmy walked up, changed as well — Steph in a short jumper dress in green plaid, a crisp white turtleneck underŹneath. Jimmy wore a pair of green slacks, with deeply pressed creases down each leg, and a white oxford-style button shirt, a hunter green tie finishing off the semi-forŹmal appearance.

  Lydia stood in doorway of the other bedroo
m holding a dress jacket in her hand.

  “Lydia,” Cassidy sent Ryan off with a nudge to his back, “can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “It’s not my place.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Floyd told me it’s none of our business what you do, but we don’t have to watch it.”

  “What did I do?”

  “I didn’t see it,” Lydia said sharply. “I was at choir practice with Steph.”

  “Something on Time Trails?” Cassidy asked, beginning to understand someŹwhat. “They’re upset about one of the episodes? For that they think I can’t run my own life and need to come home?”

  “As I said, it’s not my place.” Lydia stepped back as Steph and Jimmy returned to the room. She shut the door to tend the final preparations of her children, leaving Cassidy staring at the wood.

  During the church service, Cassidy put the issue from her mind and tried to

  enjoy the pageantry of the holiday service, She lifted Ryan to see as they sung Good King Wenceslas, On a Midnight Clear, and Silent Night.

  The assembly filed out past the live manger scene, several members portraying roles in the hay-covered, rustic barnyard-style scene. She knew something about the landscape of Judea at the time and knew that it was more likely to have been a cave than a barn, but she thought the distinctly Midwest interpretation would have appealed to Brenna. She left the church smiling after shaking hands with the minisŹter and his wife.

  Out in the parking lot, she looked around to find the rest of the family. She noticed none of them had Ryan in tow. Hearing chuckles and sounds of a disturŹbance, she realized he had climbed inside the manger area. She found him petting the lamb that was curled up on the floor. “Come on, my little farm boy.” She picked him up, laughing easily.

  Thomas watched his mother curled up on the couch. Her gaze, though supposŹedly on the book in her lap, was a little vacant and lost as she reclined, propping her chin in her palm. Wanting to help but not sure how, he waited another moment before crossing through the living room to the kitchen. As he’d expected, she jumped at the noise of his passing. “Mom?”