Chapter 19 Cassidy
Chapter 19
Cassidy
They’re piled into a black minibus. Simone points out the scenery, the lush landscape, her favorite mountain views. A real snore galore.
Penny sits in a seat by herself; Leo’s across the aisle.
The couples in the back of the bus are deep in discussion about last year’s visit. From what Cassidy gleans, it rained the entire week, and with little else to do, they drank. One of them laughs. “Things got pretty wild that last night.”
Another agrees, and Cassidy sneaks a glance over her shoulder. Ken and Barbie are giggling. Lucy and Henry are staring out the window, expressionless. Cassidy’s radar detects the uneasiness that stretches across their faces.
“We were out of control,” Ken continues.
“And how do you think we got that way?” Barbie responds.
Cassidy perks her ears up. She always enjoys a good tale.
Then Lucy, the team psychologist, says rather loudly, “Can we just forget that night? It gives me a headache.”
To which the Ken doll responds, “I’ll never forget.”
Barbie breaks out into a full-toothed grin. “Come on, it was fun. So we drank too much. Got stupid. That’s what we’re supposed to do when we’re on vacation and channeling our former selves.”
“We were naked at a campfire,” Henry counters.
Adam chuckles. “I almost roasted my balls.”
“I thought those were mini marshmallows,” Lucy quips.
They laugh, a shared camaraderie in poking fun at some private inside joke she’s not a part of. But Cassidy, as the observer, the listener, the one standing outside the inner circle, has a sharp perspective from her vantage.
“Come on, you loved it,” Adam says with a laugh. “You all loved it.” More laughter, and Cassidy imagines being at the firepit naked and free.
When they pull into a church parking lot and exit the car, Simone motions them past the pastor’s house bordering a meadow that leads to a path with a sign that reads Caution : Be Alert for Bears . Fantastic. She knew they should have gone to a spa.
They begin the trek, a lively, chatty group, fallen branches cracking beneath their shoes. Simone provides a brief overview of how the hike meanders before making a steep incline. “The payoff’s on the other side. It’s all downhill with a twisty, shaded path that leads to the stream. Be careful, though: the rocks get slippery.”
Cassidy watches as Leo drops a baseball hat on his head; strands of hair nip the back of his neck. Penny’s nearby, but they aren’t really talking. Barbie and Ken are hand in hand waltzing ahead of everyone, Henry not far behind. Adam’s mentioned no less than five times how they’ve done this trail seventeen times. We get it. It’s not your first rodeo.
Lucy sidles up to Cassidy, making friendly small talk in Rosalie’s absence. “I have friends in Chicago.” Yes, she had mentioned them at the table last night. Then her line of questioning takes another turn. “Where’s Rosalie’s dad? It’s nice the two of you have this special mother-daughter time.”
Cassidy feels her heart quicken, the muscles in her jaw tightening. This is what happens when the subject of Rosalie’s dad comes up. She inhales and manages to dodge the question by responding to the compliment. “We do this every year, alternating locations. This year’s her turn to pick.”
Lucy appears surprised. “Interesting that a girl her age would want to come here. Is there a reason?”
“Of course there is. This is typical Rosalie. If I want to go to the Hamptons, she’ll pick Hampton, Tennessee. If I choose Vail, she insists on Vilas. I mean, it’s obvious we have different tastes.”
She waits for Lucy to argue, but Lucy only nods. This makes Cassidy nervous, and she starts talking aimlessly. “I don’t know what it is with these young girls today. Rosalie’s a beautiful young woman parading around Chicago in a Darth Vader getup. And don’t get me started on the hair. Women pay a fortune for her rich, brown shade, and she’s turned it into Madame Mim—”
Lucy nods. “Kids can test us. But in my experience, it’s crucial they express their individuality. And for parents to learn to accept that individuality.”
“You call that individuality?” Cassidy snorts. “I’m no shrink, but it’s just rebellion. Directed at me.” And when Lucy doesn’t respond, Cassidy keeps going. “She loves to push every single one of my buttons. She chose this place, a destination centered on fattening meals, thinking she was fooling me. She knew there wasn’t even a gym.”
Lucy doesn’t even wince, which impresses Cassidy.
“What’s your ideal vacation?” she asks.
“A fat farm in Malibu, for one.” This woman would never understand. “Just wait until your kids turn into combative teenagers. If you think it’s tricky now, you’re in for a surprise. Slammed doors. Drama. I’m not sure about boys, but there’s no greater fury than a menstruating teenage girl with a hate-on for her mother.”
Their pace accelerates as they get comfortable on the path, and Lucy predictably starts off her next bit of unwanted advice with “In my experience.” It’s followed by a soliloquy on teen girls and self-worth, the role a parent plays in their growth and development. “Is she like this with her father?”
Cassidy’s no idiot. If Lucy thinks her probing into Rosalie’s absent dad is subtle, it’s not. Cassidy knows how to read a room, and she’s well aware of Lucy’s intentions, trying to figure her out, put the puzzle together. If Cassidy had a nickel for every therapist or teacher with an opinion about her, about Rosalie, about their relationship, or about (let’s just call it what it is) Rosalie’s daddy issue, she’d be far richer than she already is.
“I get that you’re a shrink. It’s commendable, really, but can we skip over the unsolicited analysis?” It’s rude, but Cassidy’s weary of the lectures and gratuitous opinions, and even though Lucy seems genuinely kind, her pedantic psychobabble grates on Cassidy’s last nerve.
“It’s offensive to refer to us as shrinks.”
Cassidy casts a sidelong glance Lucy’s way. She respects the woman’s boldness. And the fact that she’s managed to keep up with her without breaking a sweat.
They’re far ahead of the others. She can feel the burn in her calves and hamstrings as they climb the steep incline, and their breaths become shorter. She loves knowing how each step sculpts her tight ass. The crisp, rustling sound of her sneakers against fallen leaves whispers in her ears, and Cassidy, with each exhale, relents a bit.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Her voice softens. “It’s just that you’re not the first to give us ... me ... an opinion. It gets monotonous.”
“I imagine it’s frustrating.”
Cassidy’s catching her breath. The words don’t come easily. “I can’t help her.” They reach the top of the hill, pausing to wait for the others. And she doesn’t know why she says it, maybe because she knows she’ll never see these people again, but the words spill out. “She wants a dad. And I can’t give her that. He was a one-night stand. Meant nothing to me.”
Lucy pulls on the zipper of her jacket, unshaken. “In my experience—”
“Yes, we know. You’ve had many experiences.”
Lucy starts over. “Teenage girls need to be heard. They need to be seen. It doesn’t matter by whom. Mother. Father. Aunt. Uncle. They need a steady presence in their life. And they need to know they’re loved.”
“I’m pretty sure my daughter knows she’s loved,” Cassidy scoffs. This conversation shouldn’t surprise her. This is why she’s never fit in with the women in her life. Every time she’s tried—acceptance is something she’s always yearned for—she somehow managed to come across as confrontational and defensive. She silently counts to ten, adopting Rosalie’s calming method, and checks on the others.
Gazing over her shoulder, she sees Leo climbing the hill, out of breath. Penny’s beside him, scowling, and Henry and the dolls have almost caught up. Simone brings up the rear, holding a hiking stick in one hand, her camera slung around her neck. Barbie’s in slim-fitting yoga pants with a top that shows off her perfectly flat stomach. She’s casually popping M&M’s in her mouth as she climbs. The nerve of the woman.
“You all right, honey?” Henry calls out to his wife.
Lucy smiles at him, and Cassidy catches her giving him a thumbs-up.
“Let me guess”—Henry directs this at her—“my wife’s giving you therapy.”
Barbie chimes in. “Everyone could benefit from therapy.”
“Not me,” Adam says, pulling her close to his side. “Right, babe?”
“She’ll have you psychoanalyzed by the end of this trail,” Henry says. “At a discounted fee.”
They gather at the peak, chugging water and posing for pictures before setting off on the downhill path along a ravine. Cassidy takes off ahead of the others, ditching Lucy and her 1-800-Therapy. The sounds of the falls emptying into the humming stream have her quiet and introspective, considering Lucy’s advice. Maybe repairing things with Rosie is a start to being welcomed into their circle.
She loves her daughter.
She loved her so much she fought to have her, recognizing how difficult it would be without a coparent. She loved Rosalie when she held her in her arms those first few nights, lulling her to sleep with a bottle and placing her in the bassinet beside her bed so she could watch her sleep. She’d stroked her tiny fingers and feet, amazed at what she’d created, imagining the life they’d have. There it was, all laid out, a winding road dotted with cheery destinations. She and little Rosalie at the playground, rocking back and forth on the swings. Summers on the lake, dipping their toes in the cool water. She had visions of being best friends, like she and her mother were. They’d be a mother-daughter duo, with matching outfits and manicures. They’d share their secrets and laugh at I Love Lucy reruns, recite the alphabet while twisting apple stems to find the first initial of a future boyfriend. The road curved and stretched, but she hadn’t expected Rosalie’s detour. Their differences were one thing, but the lie Cassidy constructed about her father was the harsh turn that led Rosalie away.
She stares down at the ground while an overwhelming regret winds through her chest. Who walked away first? Blaming Rosalie was a lot easier than blaming herself. She knew how she disappointed her daughter. She’d seen the embarrassment on Rosalie’s face. Losing her own mother had devastated her. She didn’t know how to be a better parent.
Leo nears, and the mirror Cassidy has avoided evaporates. His energy field reaches across the path, nipping at Cassidy, and over her shoulder Penny stares on with a blasé expression.
After Cassidy’s early-morning jog around the property, she sat on her phone, googling the Shays and falling down a rabbit hole lined with speculation and juicy details. Leo and his costar, Claire Leonardo, caught at a café in Studio City holding hands under the table. And then the infamous kiss.
The picture was in every gossip rag and entertainment show. The press hunted Penny down at every turn as she picked up the kids from school, grocery shopped, exited the gym—hiding her watery eyes beneath a big, floppy hat until security was called in.
Penny and Leo’s brief statement read:
It has recently come to our attention that there are images circulating that challenge the state of our marriage. We have not and will not make any comment about our private life or personal matters. We ask that you respect our family’s privacy, especially that of our young children, during this difficult time.
Leo and Penny Shay
Typical Hollywood-speak. Offering no rebuttal, no denial. Leaving the public to swirl in rumors. Cassidy almost felt sorry for Leo. One fateful afternoon spurred the internet trolls to post countless sexy images of Leo and Claire taken from their movies and press junkets, blurring the line between real and make-believe.
A Thousand Lives released, starring Leo and Claire Leonardo. The drama—loosely based on the imagined lives of John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, had they missed their plane—was filmed a few years before, and should have been one of the biggest films of Leo’s career. Instead of smashing records, the film flopped. The public had made their opinions known, and there’s nothing as persuasive as the court of public opinion. Leo may have single-handedly tanked his marriage, but the audiences had crushed him, stripped him of their loyalty. There was speculation of an imminent divorce. Production on Leo and Claire’s next film came to a screeching halt.
Now here he is on a mountain path, smiling at Cassidy, the others pausing to photograph a passing deer. “I was on her therapy couch last night. Don’t sweat it.”
Leo Shay is comforting her, and she doesn’t know if she should thank him or fuck him. She prefers the latter, but it would do her no good on her quest for acceptance. She settles on the former.
“Thanks. What’s with you and Penny, anyway?”
He stumbles on a tree root and rights himself. “Are you a reporter?”
Cassidy laughs. “God no.”
She sees a glint of vulnerability in his eyes, a weakness he’s been holding in. He shrugs, seeming unsure of what to say.
“Are you getting back together? I won’t tell anyone. It’s not like I have a ton of friends.”
He ponders his answer. But Cassidy sees the way his temples pulse, his acting skills failing. “I didn’t do what they’re saying.”
Something about the forest and the sounds of the trickling water slips under Cassidy’s skin and draws on her compassion. “Yeah, you really got caught with your pants down.”
“I love her.” He doesn’t look up when he says this, his voice just above a whisper. “We hit a rough patch.”
“If you love her, you fight for her,” Cassidy says.
His cheeks redden, though she can’t be sure if it’s from her words or physical exertion. “Look who’s doling out the advice now.” Cassidy feels the slap as they reach the steps to the narrow footbridge. She stops. His eyes fix on hers.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says.
“It’s okay. I know what you meant.” She can’t hide her disappointment.
“No. I was just referring to Lucy giving therapy—”
“It’s fine. I get it all the time. The unmarried woman can’t possibly understand relationships.” She really doesn’t. She just watches a lot of Hallmark Channel.
He stops. “I really didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine. Really.” And she flashes him a smile, done trying to be nice. “If it doesn’t work out ... I’m just down the hall.”
The others catch up, and they line up single file on the steps and cross the rickety bridge to the tumbling falls. There they disperse, some climbing the rocks around the shallow swimming hole, others stripping off their shoes and socks. Simone directs them in front of the falls for a group shot. Leo stands between Cassidy and Penny. It’s tense, and she thinks she might faint from his nearness. She’s not imagining how Leo’s body stiffens.
The air is warm and breezy when Adam slips off his shirt and wades into the cool water. The others follow, and soon they’re kicking and splashing while Simone documents every detail. Adam grabs Sienna’s hand, and they climb a set of boulders to another waterfall. Lucy and Henry are stuck in deep conversation, which leaves Cassidy with Penny and Leo.
Penny’s struggling with a knot in her shoelace, and Leo’s determined to help. He drops down on one knee as Penny’s eyes fix on Cassidy’s. She feels a drop of shame for what she said to Leo earlier, realizing Leo isn’t interested in her at all.
She smiles awkwardly at them. “Good times.”