Chapter 27
27
CADENCE
I drag my feet through the door, then lean against it, exhausted from another long day at the rescue. Most days I leave the there energized, but today I feel like a used up paper bag. The aroma of Nan's cooking fills the apartment, giving me enough energy to head to the kitchen.
"Hey, sweetie," Nan says, smiling at me from the range. "Dinner's almost ready. How was your day?"
I slump onto a stool at the island, and lay my head down on my folded arms. "Oh, you know, the usual," I mutter.
Nan leaves the stove and presses a kiss to the top of my head. "That good huh?" She heads back, stirring something that I hope is bolognese sauce. I want all the pasta with all the meat and all the cheese. Then I want to sleep for a week.
Lifting my head, I give her a smile, though it's a bigger effort than it usually is. "I didn't sleep well, and the day's been a little neverending. But I'm glad to be here with you."
I lay my hands flat on the island, and focus on my stunning Nan. She looks happy, and right at home. "How about you? How'd the garage sale go?" The woman astounds me. She beats cancer, then jumps back into the community center, volunteering for everything.
Nan turns from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, her eyes twinkling. "It was quite the adventure, I'll tell you that. The whole place smelled like Ben Gay, and Judy Henderson tried to haggle over a fifty-cent paperback. Can you believe it? It's fifty fucking cents. That woman has a thousand-dollar handbag and brags to anyone who will listen about her fancy trips, and she can't pay the sticker price at a fundraising garage sale?"
I chuckle, shaking my head. "I wonder if that's how rich people stay rich? They spend their money on stupid shit, then nickel and dime everyone else."
"Humm, it does make you wonder, doesn't it. Though to be fair, we have some very rich folks living right here who are about as generous as anyone I've ever met."
"You have a point." So generous they'll just give people places to stay, all willy nilly. And it's not just me and Nan. It's Cara and Bree. And Evie, and Abby. They take in strays and make them feel loved. Is it any wonder I don't want to leave? "Did you sell much?"
"We did alright," Nan says, stirring the pot. "We raised close to a thousand dollars. Oh! Bernie and Joe asked about the boys. They wanted to know if they'd like to come back and play pickleball again."
"Um…what?"
Nan stares at me blankly, then a slow mischievous grin wreaths her face. "He didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Jonas, Nick and Maverick joined me at the seniors center a couple of weeks ago. They played pickleball with Bernie and Joe."
"The same Bernie and Joe you talk about all the time? The couple that wins all the pickleball tournaments. The guys that you wouldn't mind being the 'filling in their sandwich' as you put it?" I shudder even saying it, and Nan rolls her eyes.
"I'm not dead, you know. I have needs, and that's perfectly normal. Bernie has muscular forearms. If I thought they would be at all interested in a little va-coochie, I would offer myself up."
"Jesus, Nan," I mutter, dropping my head on my arms again. I don't want to picture Nan sandwiched between two men of any age. And I really don’t want to picture her va-coochie.
She snorts. "Come on Bunny, you know you like sex too. You were never shy about that, sneaking out in the middle of the night to fornicate in the park in high school. If you're lucky, you'll find someone you love who can give it to you right. Your grandpa sure knew his way around, that's for damned sure. He could get my engine running with just a single look."
"Nan, for the love of God. Please. No more. I can't handle any more sharing today."
With a 'humph' she goes back to the stove. "Anyway, our boys got their asses handed to them. Nick took a shot to the balls."
A burst of energy washes through me. "Oh my god. Please, Nan, tell me you got it on video."
She turns to me, eyebrows dancing. "Oh honey, who do you think you're talking to? Of course I got it on video." She points at her purse in the living room, and I scramble to retrieve the phone.
"It's better than I hoped for," I say through my laughter. The way Nick went down, the groan of pain, and Maverick's muttered 'fuck'. Epic. "I can't believe they went with you."
"Surprised me a little too, but after Maverick talked to me, it all made sense."
"Talked to you?"
"Yeah. Your young man wanted to ask me permission to court you."
My mouth is hanging open, but I can't seem to close it. "Who even does that?"
She rests the spoon on the saucer next to the stove, then moves to me, cupping her hands on my cheeks. "He likes you, honey. A lot. And he wanted to make sure that I was okay with him paying you a little more attention."
"But why did he run it past you first?"
"I would imagine he was trying to ensure that I wouldn't catch the two of you fornicating on this counter and beat him with a rolling pin."
"Oh. My. God."
"It actually shows a lot of foresight."
Yeah, I guess it does. I guess it would be a little like trying to date someone with a roommate. Not ideal, but doable. But a seventy-something nosy Nan? God, what a disaster. "Nan, how are you doing here? Are you okay with all of this?" I wave my hand around, hoping she gets that I'm asking about the apartment, but also all the people.
She turns, eyebrow raised, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "I'm doing just fine. Why do you ask?" Then, as if realizing her initial response might have been a bit brusque, Nan's expression softens. She sets the wooden spoon down and leans against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know, I'm actually enjoying all the busyness around here. It keeps me on my toes," she admits with a chuckle. "These boys are all nuts, every last one of them, but I'll tell you what - I like every single one of them. They bring a certain... liveliness to the place that I didn't realize I'd been missing."
She always talked about wishing she had a houseful of kids. I know she and my Grandpa tried for a long time. "Well, I've been thinking. We'll have enough saved for our own place soon. We could leave, if you want."
Nan crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the counter. "Is that what you want, Cady? I thought you and Maverick were getting along so well. You make such a nice couple."
I fidget with a napkin. "We don't have to live together to date, Nan. Maybe it'd be easier if we didn't."
"You may have a point there. But Cady, you've taken on so much the last few years. Would it be so wrong to just…relax a little? Take some time to save up, and really think about our next step?"
"What if this doesn't work out? We've barely started dating. We're still mostly on our best behavior. But I'm not going to be able to keep that up for long."
"Are you under some misguided notion that he doesn't know you? Honey, he's been watching you for months. He sees you, and he obviously likes what he sees. So stop worrying so much. It's not like you at all."
"I know! But that's the problem. Before, yeah, I was being myself. But I like him, Nan. A lot! Like...more than anyone ever. More than Steve, the guy from that band that I dated after high school."
God I loved everything about him, from his tousled hair to the way his fingers danced across guitar strings. He'd had that bad-boy allure, all leather jackets and crooked smiles, that just sucked me in. And seriously, having a boyfriend that would dedicate a song to me on stage was hot. What wasn't hot? Finding him fucking some miniskirt wearing woman in the van. I thought I would never get over it, and for a long time I didn't. But the way I felt for Steve pales in comparison to my feelings now. It's like I didn't understand real attraction before Mav. And that's scary as hell.
Nan's eyes widen. "Well honey, that's a big fucking deal."
"I know! And because I like him so much, I'm acting all awkward and stuff all of a sudden. It's annoying. It's not me."
"You know, when your grandfather and I met, my thigh was black and blue for a month."
"What?"
She nods, her soft smile tinged with a touch of sadness. "I knew right away I was going to marry that man. But every time I tried to talk to him, it was like a bunch of bats started flapping around my mind. I couldn't gather my thoughts. So I'd pinch my thigh until I could think straight." She laughs and shakes her head. "George told me later that he fell for my slow, thoughtful conversation. He liked how much time and thought I put into my responses. He laughed and laughed when I explained what was going on."
"He had the best laugh."
"Yeah honey, he did."
"What would he think about Maverick? Do you think he'd like him."
Nan flicks the burner off under her sauce, and lifts the lid on her pasta, giving it a quick stir. Then she turns, giving me a thoughtful look. "That's a hard one Bunny. On the one hand, George didn't much care for lawyers. But there are a lot of things he would like about Maverick. He'd like how family focused he is. He'd like how giving he is of his time. But most of all, Cady? He'd love how Maverick takes care of you."
She's right. Grandpa always complained about lawyers undoing all his hard work. He'd complain that he'd arrest em, then they would be out before the end of his shift. None of the guys on the force much cared for lawyers, but he would put that aside if he met Maverick. It helps that the only criminals he seems to help are his brothers after they've rampaged through a convenience store.
"You're right. He would like him."
The front door swings open, and Maverick saunters in, his presence effectively ending our conversation.. "Evening, ladies," he says, grinning. He always looks so damn happy to be home. Scratch that. He's happy to come home to us.
My poor heart.
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the aromas wafting through the kitchen, and lets out an appreciative groan as he tugs at his already crooked tie. "That smells absolutely incredible. Tell me there is enough for me too?" Unable to resist, he makes a beeline for the stove, pausing to press a gentle kiss to Nan's cheek before leaning over the pot, his nose practically touching the surface as he inhales deeply.
Nan chuckles, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks, and waves him away with a mock stern expression. "Of course I made enough for you. I've learned my lesson." Maverick’s cheeks redden at her little dig. We only had to sit through one meal with Maverick sighing, looking longingly into the empty pot for Nan to realize she needed to double all her recipes. Since that day, we've never run low…at least when it's just the three of us. If any other brother shows up though - which they do - we're fucked.
Maverick straightens up, his eyes finding mine across the kitchen. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. He crosses the room in two long strides, leaning in to brush his lips against my cheek in a kiss that's both tender and full of promise. The warmth of his breath lingers on my skin as he pulls away, flashing me a quick wink before disappearing down the hall to change.
I make it halfway through my supper before the exhaustion comes back. I rest my chin on my hand, fork dangling and close my eyes, letting Maverick and Nan's conversation float around me. They get along so well. This situation, this man is not something I ever imagined. Yet after only a month, it feels like home. He feels like home.
And we've only been on three dates. This is happening so fast, my head is spinning. And okay, maybe some of the spinning is thanks to my exhaustion. I can't blame it all on him.
"I think I'm gonna turn in early," I mumble, standing up on wobbly legs. "I'm not feeling great."
"Oh," Maverick says, disappointment clear in his voice. He studies my face, brows furrowing with concern. "I thought…well, it doesn't matter. Good night, Cady. Feel better."
I take a shaky step, and suddenly Maverick's there, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. The warmth of his touch is comforting, but it can't quite chase away the growing discomfort.
"Hey," he says softly, "what's wrong? You look pale."
I lean into his touch, grateful for the support. "Just feeling worse and worse," I admit, closing my eyes against a wave of dizziness. "I probably just need to rest."
Maverick's thumb strokes my hair, a soothing gesture that makes me want to curl up right there. "Let me help you to your room," he offers, worry etched across his features.
"It's right there," I mumble, feeling silly for taking the help, but I think I need it, so I let myself dig my fingers into his forearm as we shuffle to my door.
"Are you sure you're alright? Do you need a doctor?" His worry makes my heart twist.
"I'm okay. Today was a shitshow, and I might be coming down with something. Hopefully, I can sleep it off." It's not just wishful thinking. In my experience, sleep can cure almost anything.
He doesn't look convinced but lets me pull away, gently closing the door behind me. I stumble into pajamas — it doesn't matter how tired I am, I'm not taking this much dog hair into my bed — then crawl under the covers. I'm almost out when I feel Nan's cool hand on my forehead.
"You can't be in here," I mumble, pulling away. "If I am sick, you can't be here."
Nan grumbles, but thankfully leaves. The last thing I want to worry about is her getting sick again. Yeah, she's healthy, but the chemo and radiation destroyed her immune system and even though she’s healthy now, I live in fear of her catching a cold or flu and ending up in the hospital.
As long as she stays out of here, I can let myself rest. Everything will be better in the morning.
I wake up the next morning feeling like I've been hit by a truck. My head pounds, my throat's on fire, and every muscle aches. But I drag myself out of bed anyway. The rescue needs me.
Luckily, when I arrive, some of my volunteers are already there. I barely make it through the morning, stumbling through tasks in a feverish haze, my vision blurring at the edges. Every bark, every squeak of a cage door sends shockwaves through my pounding head. By noon, I'm completely spent, my body screaming for rest. With a twinge of guilt and frustration, I hand off the remaining duties to my most trusted volunteer and head straight home.
I stumble through the front door, my head spinning like a merry-go-round from hell. The drive home is a terrifying blur, and I silently curse the universe for putting me in this position. Thank god something was looking out for me on the road, because I sure as hell wasn't. It's a miracle I made it home in one piece.
I fumble with my phone, my trembling fingers barely able to set an alarm for five hours from now. Sleep. I just need sleep. But even as I drag myself towards my bed, a nagging voice in my head reminds me of all the work left undone at the rescue. The endless responsibilities, the constant need for my presence - it's suffocating. For a fleeting moment, I resent the very thing I've poured my heart and soul into. Why does it always have to be me? Why can't someone else shoulder this burden, just for one damn day?
Rationally, I'm aware that I chose this, but today, feeling awful and grumpy, it sucks.
When the alarm blares, I force my heavy eyelids open. Every movement is a struggle as I drag myself out of bed and pull on clothes. My arms feel like they're made of lead. If anything, I feel worse than this morning.
I shuffle towards the front door, ready to head back to the rescue, when I'm startled by a hand on my arm. Maverick's there, way earlier than I expected. And Nan's right beside him, concern etched on her face. I didn't hear them coming.
"Honey, you look awful," Nan says, moving towards me.
I hold up a hand, backing away. "No, stay back. I can't risk you getting sick."
Maverick steps forward, his brow furrowed. "What's going on, Cady?"
"Nan's immune system," I rasp, my throat on fire. "The chemo and radiation... she's vulnerable. She can't get sick."
Understanding dawns in Maverick's eyes. He nods, then says firmly, "I get it. But there's no way you're going to the rescue like this."
"I have to," I argue weakly. "The animals-"
Before I can finish, Maverick scoops me up in his arms. I'm too weak to put up much of a fight as he carries me back to bed. God, if only I felt better, I could appreciate this.
Well, okay, I appreciate it now. But if I were feeling better, I would wind my arms around his neck, and pull his lips down to mine.
I’m breathing hard when he sets me down, but thankfully he isn’t. So strong . I try to get up again, but he gently pushes me back with a hand planted in the middle of my chest.
Apparently, my hormones aren’t as sick as the rest of me, because they stand up and start urging Mav to slide his hand a little over, until I can feel his hand on my breast.
"You're not going anywhere," he says, his voice gentle but brooking no argument. "It's not safe for you or the animals. I'll handle things at the rescue."
"But-" I start to protest, but exhaustion is already pulling me under. My eyelids grow heavy, and I can feel myself drifting off even as I try to argue.