10. Cade
This is me Trying - Taylor Swift
I t’s been 2 days since I last heard from Paige. The bar is closed on Sundays so I spent the rest of the weekend with the guys before Dean headed off to his next job in North Carolina on Monday morning. I texted her a couple of times on Sunday and Monday, but there was no response. I’m sure she’s busy with school or something.
She’s not my girlfriend, so I have no right to be jealous, but damn if I wasn’t the picture of envy when she told us about her date on Saturday. Did I secretly hope it completely bombed? Absolutely. But I never would have wanted her to get hurt the way she did. She didn’t say much, only that the idiot stood her up, but I could tell she was upset from her somewhat dismissive messages – I should have called her. I can only hope she realizes he was never the right man for her, anyway.
The week goes by in a blur — sleeping in, closing shifts at the bar — just another rinse and repeat. Before I know it, it’s Friday — my birthday. Dean managed to get a quick turnaround on his last travel job so he’ll be back for good, and we’re having a get together at The Ridge with Miles, Dean, and Cara. I wondered if maybe Cara was the catalyst for Dean’s transition to virtual consulting, but I didn’t ask... not yet, anyway.
I’m hoping Cara decides to leave Jen at home — the last thing I need is her scowling at me on my birthday — but things seem to be going well for my friend and his girl, so if I have to put up with her attitude for one night, I’ll grin and bear it. He deserves to be happy. As for me, there’s only 1 person I wish I could see today, and it’s the one person I haven’t talked to in almost a week.
It’s 10pm, karaoke night at The Ridge, and this might have been the worst idea ever. There’s a short, balding guy in a sweater vest on stage absolutely butchering a George Straight song, Dean’s lips are glued to Cara’s, and Miles seems to have fucked off to God knows where with lord knows who. The bar’s weekend scene is infamous for its illicit affairs, which often unfold discreetly in the bathrooms and hidden corners of the parking lot. Miles better hope he doesn’t get caught with whatever towny he picked up this time.
I lift my glass in a silent toast to no one in particular, knocking back yet another shot, wishing I could be anywhere else, when my eyes snag on a head of wild curls at the bar. I know logically it can’t be Paige, but I can’t help the fleeting hope that momentarily quickens my heartbeat, until she turns her head and reality comes crashing down around me. As if I summoned her with my thoughts, my phone vibrates on the table. Paige.
“Hello?”
“Caaade?” someone slurs into the phone.
“Yeah, who’s this?”
I’m pretty sure if it’s not Paige, it can only be one other person. There aren’t v ery many people who could get their hands on Paige’s phone and get away with it — unless something is very wrong. Shit. My stomach clenches and I suddenly start to panic.
“Is Paige ok? What’s going on?”
“Paige? Oh yeah, she’s fine,” the voice slurs again. “Well, maybe not fine. She’s sulking, Cowboy. My best friend is really sad and I'm pretty sure you’re the only one who can fix her.”
“What do you mean? Is this about the date on Saturday?”
“Mags, what are you doing?” It’s a voice I could recognize in my sleep.
So it is the infamous Maggie on the phone.
“Hey Paigey-poo, your phone rang so I answered it,” Maggie lies effortlessly despite her inebriated state.
“Who is it?” I listen into their conversation like a creep, standing rooted to the spot.
I missed her voice . No, that’s not right. I missed her .
Paige has been radio silent since Saturday, and it’s been torture keeping my distance. I’ve wanted to text her so many times, about funny work stuff, or the stray cat outside of Rosie’s diner. I probably could have sent them anyway, but I was certain Paige was trying to put some distance between us and I didn’t want to overstep. She needed time, and I was going to give it to her.
“Hello?” Paige. She must’ve stolen the phone back while I was lost in my thoughts.
“Hey… Sunshine,” I say, with a hint of tenderness in my voice.
There’s a slight hitch in her voice before she sighs, “Cade.” That’s it. Just my name, but it’s strained. My name on her lips is like a balm to my aching heart.
“I missed you,” I confess. The last shot of jager must be hitting my system now – or maybe it was the 5 others before it. Who knows ?
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long week,” she says, exhaustion lacing every word. “How are you, Cowboy?”
Cowboy — the silly nickname she pulled out of one of her favorite romance novels. Before I can answer, someone snags the phone from my hand. I scowl as I turn and find a grinning Miles holding my phone to his ear.
“Well, if it isn’t Sunshine herself!” he singsongs, switching the call over to FaceTime. “Calling to sing Happy Birthday to the birthday boy?” he asks.
She’s wearing my fucking hoodie.
“Is it your birthday?” she asks him.
“No, silly, it’s Cade’s birthday! Your cowboy here is 27 today!” he says as he sways on the spot. Probably a good time to end the call before Miles makes a fool of us both, but I can’t seem to bring myself to hang up.
I lock eyes with the gorgeous girl on my phone. Her face is dejected, unshed tears glistening along her lashes. God, I want to reach through the phone and hug her.
Miles, the asshole, hands me back my phone and walks away like he didn’t just royally fuck up my evening. I may not fully comprehend why Paige is avoiding me, but I’m 100% sure this little interaction will only make things worse. Seconds later, my suspicions are confirmed.
“Happy birthday, Cowboy,” she says before the screen goes dark.
The rest of the night is complete chaos. The entire bar sings an offbeat rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’, but I can’t seem the muster the enthusiasm to care. I lift a beer in a silent thank you and slink onto a stool at the bar. Liam is passing a tray of shots to a cute blonde when he catches my eye, giving me a knowing look.
“You ok, Cade?”
“Yep…no. Honestly, man, I don’t even know anymore. ”
“Wanna talk about it? It’s sort of bartender 101 that we’re like unpaid therapists.”
“Not really.”
“Let me guess, it’s your girl.”
Mine.
“Ok, let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you about Paige when you tell us about the piece of shit ex who left a kid on your doorstep.”
“Not much to tell, man. She’s long gone now and I’m a dad. Aidan is my world and there’s not much more to it. Doing the right thing doesn’t always have to be complicated,” he says, and I know we’re not talking about his kid anymore. “Sometimes when you’re faced with a choice, you have to follow your gut. So what is your gut telling you about this girl?”
“It’s not that simple. I like her, I might even care about her,” too much , I think to myself, “but this can’t go anywhere. She’s there and I’m here and…” the last sentence trails off.
“Look, I’m probably the last person to give relationship advice but it seems pretty simple to me. If you want her, tell her. At least then you’ll know if you should keep pining or move on.”
“Fuck you, I’m not pining.”
“Sure looks like it from where I’m standing.”
Am I pining? Yeah. I am.
Paige
It’s Cade’s birthday.
In all of our conversations over the past 2 months, how did I miss that detail? Everything between us happened so fast, I felt like I was on a roller coaster. After my pity party on Saturday, I needed a break from it all. Our last conversation was intense and I needed space to find a different perspective. The only perspective I found was one that absolutely terrified me. I was in way too deep with my sandy-haired Kentucky boy. Everything feels so out of my control right now and it’s damn near paralyzing.
After wishing Cade a happy birthday, which he may not even remember in the morning, I hang up and head out to the cemetery on the corner of our street for some solitude. Call it morbid, but at least nobody bothers me here.
Mags is having another house party and I’m not in the mood to be around people right now — at least not living ones. As soon as I enter, my body collapses onto the bench with silent, deep soul crushing sobs.
I don’t really know where all of this is coming from — all I know is there’s a deep sense of loneliness even when I’m surrounded by people. I pull out my phone and scroll through my text conversation with Cade. There are still 4 messages I didn’t answer.
Cade: Hey, Sunshine. Just wanted to see how you’re holding up.
Cade: Kyle is a jackass. Don’t let him get to you.
?? missed call from Cade
Cade: Give me his name and address. I’ll fly out there and bury him in the habitat for humanity igloo and nobody will ever find the body.
Cade: I miss you.
The last one is accompanied by a photo of a Kentucky sunrise, the last leaves of fall on the trees surrounding the lake as it reflects hues of pinks and ora nges. It leaves me breathless and lonelier than ever. I long to see that view in person; to be there when the sun crests over the hill and time slows down for the briefest of moments. Sunrise has always meant new beginnings to me, so why does this one feel like an ending?
Paige, 16 years old
“Paige?” Dad’s voice snaps me out of my daze. I’ve been laying in bed with the covers pulled all the way to my chin for hours. I hit snooze on my alarm clock 6 times before I simply gave up and didn’t bother getting ready for school.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Why aren’t you at school?” He asks, his tone is curt. He’s irritated with me again.
I shrug. “I wasn't feeling well.”
“I know that’s bullshit. What the hell is going on, Paige? You’re damn near failing some of your classes, and the school called to tell us you’ve been missing classes all week.”
“I’m tired, Dad. Can I go back to sleep please?”
With a gentle touch, he places his hand on my forehead, searching for a fever that we both know he won’t find there. I’m not sick; I haven’t been sick in months. I just can’t… anything. I don’t want to leave my bed anymore and I’ve long since run out of tears. I’m numb. Nothing is okay anymore. Mom and Dad don’t speak, so when they need to communicate, they do it through me, each of them using me to talk shit about the other. I don’t see Dad much. His girlfriend works at the bar a block away, and he spends all of his time with her when he’s not at work.
Mom asked me to move back in with her and my brother, but I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s this indescribable heaviness in my chest, and I can’t shake it. I don’t know what to do with it, so I don’t do anything. I’ve lost 10 lbs in the last few weeks — I’m sure mom will be thrilled when she sees me at the rink tomorrow.
“PAIGE!” Dad shouts. I must’ve zoned out. “Call your mother and tell her to come pick you up. I’m not doing this anymore. You can go back to living with her and she can figure out what’s going on with you.”
“No. Dad, please!”
“Sue and I are moving to Alberta next month. I was planning to tell you tonight anyway. Call your mom and I’ll bring up some boxes and help you pack.”
I watch his blurry outline retreat into the hallway, my eyes shining with unshed tears as his words reverberate in my ear.
I don’t even know if I can muster the will to carry on, so I guess it makes sense that I’m too much too much of a burden; too hard to love. I have been for a long time. My brother hasn’t spoken to me since I moved here the first time a year ago, and mom only talks to me when I have skating lessons or if she finds something about me offensive. I’ve shut my friends out, not sure what to say about where I’ve been. I just want to be allowed to not be okay for a little while. I feel so… alone. But not lonely, I’m too numb to be lonely.
I don’t remember falling asleep last night but the phone vibrating on my nightstand wakes me. I ignore it as I’ve been known to do lately. If it’s important, they’ll text me or leave a message. Everybody who cares enough to call me knows I hate talking on the phone anyway – though there’s been 1 exception as of late .
Time passes in a blur — did I eat today?
There’s a loud noise in the hallway and I hear a muffled voice outside my door when suddenly it cracks open and I see my best friend on the threshold, holding a phone to her ear.
“Hey babe. How are you feeling?” I haven’t seen Mags much this week. Between her classes and her other friends who aren’t me (pesky little extroverts and their big circles of friends), she’s been busy. The truth is, I haven’t really made much of an effort. It’s then that I’’m struck with the realization that I have been a shitty friend.
“I’m okay, Mags,” I lie, and I know she can see right through my bullshit. Last year, Maggie and our other roommate Joanna took to measuring out my pasta to see if I’d been cooking for myself in our dorm. According to their theory, it was a red flag if the circumference of my spaghetti remained unchanged for an entire week. When you’re raised by a heavily Italian family on your maternal side, pasta is the first thing you learn to make. Personally, I’m not great at cooking much else – carbs, cheese, sauce. What more does a girl need?
During one particularly unpleasant episode where I was ordering takeout and holed up in my room for days on end, my housemates cornered me and hosted a sort of intervention. Joanna and I never really got along, so it surprised me when she agreed to help. In hindsight, she probably cared more about me not helping out around the house and Maggie, ever the peacemaker, convinced her to take a softer approach when confronting me about it. Regardless, I was grateful.
“Paige?” Maggie’s soft voice snaps me out of my daydream. “Cade is on the phone. He’s worried about you.”
I knew she wouldn’t let me squirrel myself away for very much longer. I had seen the concern in her eyes last night when she stole my phone and called Cade. She tried to play it off like she answered my phone, but the call log doesn't lie. Maggie is all about making people happy, so if she needs to call your long-distance not-boyfrie nd to make it happen, she won’t hesitate.
“Okay, can you tell Cade I’ll text him later?” I wasn’t in any state to talk to him right now, despite what my heart was telling me — screaming at me — to do. Do I feel guilty for blowing him off again? Yes. But I’m not ready to face him.
“Sure,” she says as she steps back into the hall. I hear a few more quiet murmurs before she comes back in and sits at the foot of my bed.
“Ok, Paige, I love you but it’s time to shower. You’ve been sulking for a week and, to be quite honest, you’re a mess, babe.”
I clutch my chest, feigning shock. A much-needed moment of levity breaks through the heaviness of the past week, serving as a gentle reminder that maybe this won’t last forever. Right now, in my room with this amazing person looking at me with such affection in her eyes, I know things will be okay.
An hour later, I step out of the steaming hot shower, feeling like an entirely new person. I walk back into my bedroom and do the only thing I can think of to distract me from the darkness as it tries to seep back in. I strip my bed, gather up my laundry, and do my best to purge every dark thought from this past week.
Did it cleanse my past and rid me of all of my demons? Of course not, but it was a step. Sometimes one step is all you can offer the world, and it has to be enough. So I reach out and take another, praying I haven’t fucked things up beyond repair.
Paige: Hey Cowboy, I miss you too.