FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER
I counted the seconds between my “Hi, Mom,” and my mother’s reply.
I got to eight before she blinked as if coming out of a trance.
Her hand clutched the buttons on her cardigan.
I wanted both of her hands to reach for me and hold me like she did when I was a kid and my dad wasn’t around to see.
I wanted to fly at her and hug her and breathe her in.
“Cassie,” she whispered. For a split second, her eyes filled, and a shocked smile tugged at her lips. My hopes soared, and then she gave herself a little shake, composing herself. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I…?” I repeated dumbly, the hope draining out of me.
I’m your daughter. That’s what I’m doing here.
I felt Theo’s hand give mine a squeeze, and I felt more solid. More present.
Stay here.
“It’s been a long time, Mom. I’m here to visit you and Dad. This is my boyfriend, Theo. Theo, this is Linda. My mom.”
Mom’s eyes darted to Theo beside me in his usual dark T-shirt and jeans. She took in his muscles, his tattoos, the unshaven stubble of his beard, and I saw her hand clench tighter on her sweater.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Dawson,” Theo said, his tone flat and dry as the desert. He didn’t extend his hand to shake, maybe guessing—correctly—my mother wouldn’t take it.
“Can we come in?” I asked, hating that I had to ask.
Mom glanced over her shoulder and back. “Now? I don’t know…”
I clenched my teeth together so hard I thought they’d shatter, inhaled through my nose to calm myself, to suck courage and steadiness out of the salty air.
“Mom,” I said, “I haven’t seen you or Daddy in almost seven years. You stopped returning my calls almost a year ago. I need to see you. You’re my parents. And I’m your daughter. I am your…child. ”
My voice started to crack, and I took a steadying breath. My mom had been doing everything my dad told her to for twenty-four years. Now she was going to listen to me.
“You’re going to let me in and we’re going to talk for a little bit. You and me and Theo and Daddy. Right now.”
My mom stared at me for a moment more, and then, with jerky, nervous movements, opened the door wider and stepped aside to let us in.
Theo gave my hand another squeeze and I glanced up to see pride in his eyes. I felt bolstered by that one look. It gave me the courage to step inside my childhood home for the first time in seven years.
The memories assaulted me from all fronts, carried on currents of smells and sounds.
Warm cinnamon, my father’s cologne, the little baskets of potpourri my mother kept in every room.
The furniture was unchanged. The wallpaper in the front entry was the same white with tiny blue flowers, and I could still see the pencil marks where my mom measured my height as I grew.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed in from the large bay window in the dining room to slant across the old walnut dining table.
“I used to do homework there,” I murmured. “I was a good student, wasn’t I, Mom?”
“Yes, you were,” she said in her flighty voice, leading us into the living room. “All A’s.”
We shared a look and I swear I saw a little crack in whatever armor she thought she needed to wear against me.
“Is Daddy here?” I asked, my throat going dry.
“He’s in the den,” she said, and glanced at Theo. “Cassie, your—”
“It’s Kacey, Mom,” I said. “I haven’t been Cassie since I was sixteen years old.”
She bobbed her head. “Kacey. Your father—”
His voice called behind me. “Who’s here?”
I took shelter against Theo’s strong body as my heart plummeted to my knees.
Daddy…
Tears sprung to my eyes as I turned around.
My father looked much the same as he had when Jonah and I had spied him from across the street.
Tall, a little stooped, with a protruding belly on a thin frame and a full head of silver hair.
His eyes were the same blue as mine. They fixed on me, then Theo, widening in shock for only a moment.
Jim Dawson was never one to get caught off guard.
His put his expression in neutral and crossed his arms over his button-down shirt.
“Hi, Daddy,” I said, my voice a breathy flutter. “It’s good to see you.”
“Sure,” he said, as if I’d asked a question. He turned his icy stare to Theo. “Who’s this?”
Again, Theo didn’t extend his hand, his stare hard. “Theo Fletcher,” he said. “I’m Kacey’s boyfriend.” He made boyfriend sound like a warning.
I mustered my courage again. “Can we sit down, Daddy? There’s something we’d like to tell both of you.”
“You want money?” my father said. “Because I can tell you right now—”
“We don’t want money,” I said. “Please, Daddy. It’s been seven years. Can we just sit and talk for a minute?”
My father pondered this, and I searched his face for any sign of warmth or affection, regret or guilt. But if he felt anything at all besides cold disdain, he kept it locked tight.
“Fine,” he said finally. “But it can’t be long. I have work to do.”
Like a hostess at the world’s most awkward dinner party, my mother led us to the living room. My dad took the couch, sitting right in the middle, precluding anyone from sitting beside him. That left only two high-backed chairs for the remaining three of us.
“Oh,” Mom said, glancing around, almost panicked. “I’ll get a chair from the dining room…”
“I’ll stand,” Theo said, and took up a position behind my chair, arms crossed, like a sentry or bodyguard. My mother sat down, folding her hands tightly in her lap. My father sat leaning back, his hands resting on his thighs, his chin drawn back and mouth pulled down, waiting.
The moment unfurled before me. Probably my last chance for any hope of reconciliation. Behind me, Theo shifted, reminding me he was there, that he would always be there for me. I sucked in a breath.
“A lot has happened over these last years, since we last saw each other. And I’m not going to lie, I had some really rough times. Times when I needed you. Both of you.”
My mother sat perfectly still but her eyes closed for a moment, as if pained.
But my father pursed his lips, seemed to harden further right before my eyes. “You should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules of the house,” he said.
Theo’s hand touched my back. I swallowed hard and said, “I think, Daddy, I’ve paid for that mistake a thousand times over.”
Those weeks of being homeless after Chett ditched me came back.
The months and years of scraping by with Lola.
Then the blurry, alcohol haze of countless small shows we played with Rapid Confession, trying to get a leg up.
Throwing all that in his face would get me nowhere.
If we had a chance, it was this moment, right now.
“I’ve moved past all that,” I said. “I learned to stand on my own two feet. I have a successful career as a musician. Not with a band, but on my own. And Theo…” I raised my hand, and he slipped his into it.
“Theo’s a tattoo artist and owns his own business.
We’re going to live in Las Vegas. And we’re starting a family. ”
My mother’s head shot up and she gasped. “You’re going to have a baby?”
Tears sprung to my eyes at the words. They suffused me with joy every time I heard them spoken aloud. Joy that could spill into this living room, flood this house, and break down the walls. It could. It had to. How could there still be animosity or regret in the face of a child on the way?
“Yeah, Mom,” I said. My hand tightened around Theo’s.
“We’re going to have a baby, and that’s why I’m here.
I want… We want you to be a part of our lives.
And this baby’s life. This is your grandchild.
I don’t care about anything that’s come before.
I want to start over, okay? A new start as a family. ”
Tears filled my mother’s eyes and she started to nod. Emotion rose up in my chest and throat as she leaned forward in her chair, her hand over her heart. Hope lighting her eyes in a way I’d never seen before.
“Oh, Cassie,” she whispered.
Her words floated in the still air, like bubbles.
And my father popped them one by one.
“A musician and a tattooist,” he said. “And you think these are good, steady careers by which to raise a child?”
“I’m signed with a label, Daddy,” I said slowly, carefully, holding on to the happiness. “I’m not out playing little clubs for $50 a pop. Not anymore. And Teddy is an artist. He’s been featured in—”
“The music industry is full of drugs,” my father said with a wave of his hand. “And criminals get tattoos. That’s a fact. You want to bring those kinds of elements around your child?”
“It’s not like that—”
“You know what I see?” My father asked. “I see nothing’s changed. Not one damn thing. You’ve been acting the rebel your whole life. Playing a rock star, fooling around with the same kinds of men.”
“That’s not true. Teddy is—”
“And now you come here, telling me you got knocked up by a tattooed deviant,” he gestured to Theo, “and I’m supposed to be overjoyed about this?”
I reeled as if I’d been slapped. Theo made a low noise in his chest. The heat of his rising anger radiated in the fingers clenching mine. I took hold of it and for the first time in my life, I hit back.
“Apologize,” I said in a low voice I hardly recognized.
My father blinked. “Are you speaking to me?”
“You better goddamn apologize,” I said, my voice rising.
“A deviant? He’s twice the man you are. You’re the deviant.
You’re a heartless son of a bitch who kicked a seventeen-year girl out of the house because you only see what you want to see.
If things don’t look right, if people don’t look right, you get rid of them.
But I’m still here, Dad. I’m right here. I’m right…here .”
My father stared a moment, then rose off the couch. “This visit is over.”
I shot to my feet. “What is wrong with you?” I cried. “Why are you like this? What did I ever do to you?” I turned to my mother, crying now. “And you… Why are you just sitting there, Mom? Say something.”
She quailed, her eyes darting between my father and me.
“ Say something,” I cried. Theo moved to stand behind me as I looked from one parent to the other.
“Tell me to leave again, Dad,” I said. “Go ahead. You’ll never see me again, I promise, but I want to hear you say it.”
My father held my eyes for a moment, and I stared back, unflinching.
Waiting.
Hoping…
Finally, he shook his head, muttered something under his breath and walked out.
I exhaled, staring at the empty space where he’d been.
“All right then,” I said. My head swiveled numbly to my mother. “Goodbye, Mom,” I said, my voice a whisper.
Calmly, with Theo’s arm around me, I walked out of my childhood home for the last time.