27. Diego
After stoppingfor dinner on the way home, we pulled into my mom’s three-bedroom ranch on the outskirts of town just after dark. We hadn’t even unloaded our suitcases before Mom yawned and kissed me goodnight, promising to catch up in the morning.
I led Cassandra down the familiar shag carpeted hallway into my bedroom and opened the door with a wince. My bedroom hadn’t changed since I’d left home. Except for a full bed replacing the twin, Mom had maintained a shrine to my childhood right down to the wood-paneled walls and the cutouts of my celebrity crushes on the wall.
“Well, well, well.” Cassandra’s green eyes shone as she dropped her bag on the bed and perused the bookshelf. “Are these yearbooks? Please tell me there’s a diary in here, too.”
“A journal,” I said, setting down my bag beside hers and rifling through until I found my toiletry bag. “And I burned that years ago.”
“Boo.” She pulled out my middle school yearbook and sat on the bed.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll find something embarrassing anyway. How did you sign your yearbooks?” She looked up from flipping through the book and narrowed her eyes. “You look like a ‘Stay Cool’ yearbook signer.”
“I normally went for ‘Have a Great Summer’.”
She crinkled her nose. “Wow. Somehow that’s even worse.”
I grabbed a pair of sweats and a shirt out of the bag, setting it on my toiletries. “Let me guess, personalized haikus.”
“Sonnets, but close.”
“Well, you have all weekend to paw through my old things, but Mom will wake us up at the crack of dawn, so we should get some sleep.”
She waved me away. With her attention back on the book, I slipped into the bathroom. Paul had changed out the drop-tile ceiling with the water stain, but the sink pipes still leaked as evidence by the bucket underneath the sink.
Half a million dollars sitting in a savings account and my mom won’t so much as call a plumber. I toyed with the idea of telling Paul about the account, insisting he make my mom use it, but dismissed the idea just as fast. He wouldn’t and worse, Mom would be pissed at me for not dismantling the account when she refused it the first time.
I shuffled through my toiletry bag, pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. Mom clearly had an agenda as soon as she met Cassandra, and unfortunately for Cassandra, it mirrored my own.
Of course, I didn’t want to force Cassandra to date me, and the contract she’d signed at the beginning of the season complicated our relationship. But my mom saw things in black and white, and she clearly thought Cassandra and I belonged together.
I couldn’t blame her. Hell, I agreed.
I brushed my teeth and changed before returning to the bedroom. Cassandra sat on the bed, a new yearbook in her lap, and wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung off her shoulder and pooled around her hips, making it impossible to tell if she wore anything underneath.
Fuck, it was going to be a long weekend.
“I can sleep on the couch,” I said for maybe the millionth time. When Mom had mentioned the new gym, I sort of assumed she’d kept the Murphy bed tucked into the wall, but over dinner, she dropped that Cassandra and I would bunk up or I’d be on the couch.
“You know how hard it is for me to sleep, though,” Mom had said at dinner with a sigh, fork grazing over a pile of mashed potatoes. “All those overnight shifts. I just can’t sleep through the night anymore. I get up at least once to watch a show and clean the house a little until I’m tired again.”
“Don’t be silly,” Cassandra said, pulling a pink silk scrunchie from her bag and putting her hair up into a messy bun. “We’ve shared a bed before. Besides, if anyone is getting punted to the couch, it’s me.”
I grinned. “Oh, a sports analogy.”
“Yeah, I’m sort of dating a quarterback…” She ducked her head, cheeks splotched red. “Anyway, with your mom next door, I think we can behave ourselves.”
I winced. “Right. This isn’t Vegas.”
She gave me a curt nod. “Exactly.”
Despite the blue balls I’d be sporting the entire weekend, I didn’t regret bringing Cassandra back home. Sure, I would tomorrow, after the entirety of my hometown gathered in my mom’s backyard, pretending to do anything besides gawk at me.
Prior to joining the NFL, Lone Tree’s most well-known local was a cow who could predict the weather.
“I like your mom.” Cassandra pushed off the bed with her toothbrush and walked to the sink. “She’s a lot like you.”
My chest tightened at a compliment I didn’t get often enough. “She likes you, too. Maybe a little too much.”
Cassandra laughed. “I’m impossible not to like.”
My smile faltered. Impossible not to like. Impossible not to love. Impossible to share a bed without spending the entire night wanting her stripped naked and… I shook my head, dislodging the thought. “Well, save all that charm for tomorrow when you meet the entire town of Lone Tree.”
Despite the new bed, Mom had kept the blue checkered bedspread I’d had since grade school. The thought of Cassandra crawling between those sheets made my chest tight, among other things.
I shucked off my shirt, the heat from Cassandra’s eyes roving down my chest, searing me like a brand.
“What are you doing?” she stammered as I moved our bags off the bed.
“Mom doesn’t have central air, and it’s summer most of the year this far south.” Mom relied solely on window unit air conditioners and good insulation. Spending the night with Cassandra tucked beside me would make me hot enough. I didn’t need to add an extra layer of clothes to the situation.
“Are you trying to impress me or is that what you normally wear to bed?” she asked as she padded to the other side of the bed.
I winked. “Normally, I wear less.”
She rolled her eyes, and I slipped under the covers. The bed sagged under our combined weight. Cassandra rolled into my side, her body soft and warm against my arm, her knee pressing into my thigh. “Well, I guess maintaining our own sides isn’t an option.”
I shifted my arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. “Not worth even trying, really.”
She shifted into the crook of my arm, fingers dancing up my ribcage before settling on my chest. “I never would have made it through the night. I’m a cuddler. I can’t help myself.”
My throat tightened with my grip, pulling her closer. “I suppose I can make this work for a couple of nights.”
“I offered to sleep on the couch.” Her fingertips brushed down my sternum in lazy circles.
“Do you have any idea what my mom would do to me if she found you on the couch in the morning?”
“Murder?”
“Disowned, at least. And you said I was the dramatic one.”
“You have your moments.” Her breath was hot against my shoulder, head lolling into me and voice sleepy.
“Good night, Cassandra,” I sighed, already aware I wouldn’t be getting much sleep.
* * *
The cool coastal air that felt so refreshing on my jog around the neighborhood that morning had turned hot and cloying. A mild humidity by Mississippi standards, but oppressive, particularly when cornered by a dozen local church ladies.
“I have a sister in Virginia. Maybe you know her?” One of them, Bunny or Chicky, an animal name, tucked her hand into my arm, pressing a manicured finger to her mouth. “Roanoke, I think.”
“That’s on the other side of the state,” the woman next to her correctly pointed out.
“But she goes to the Breakers’ games. At least twice a year.”
“Don’t be dotty, Barb,” one of the other ladies tutted, turning her attention to me. “How do you like Virginia?”
“It’s not Mississippi,” I answer diplomatically.
A noncommittal response, but the ladies exchange a knowing look, as if I’d just admitted that Virginia is nowhere near as wonderful as Mississippi.
“If only we had an NFL team…” Barb sighed.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I should probably check on my guest.” I slipped out of Chicky’s grasp with a winning smile that sets them all tittering in my wake.
I kept Cassandra in my periphery. She’d spent the morning confined to the kitchen with my mom, who insisted Cassandra learn to cook a good southern meal. During the party, I’d caught her sharing a beer with Paul’s fishing buddies and then in a serious discussion with the pastor, who no doubt wanted us at church on Sunday.
I hadn’t spotted her in a while, though. The “small neighborhood get together” had spiraled out of control by the time food was served. Thankfully, most of the attendants had brought a dish and there was plenty to go around.
I dipped past no less than half a dozen people eager to get a bit of conversation in with me. Former schoolmates, friends and teachers. Even the daycare owner who’d watched me when I was an infant. Mom apparently had left no stone unturned in inviting people to the party.
An uproarious round of laughter echoed from the backyard, and floating above the other voices was Cassandra’s, high and vibrant. As the sun set, the bonfire illuminated the backyard. Cassandra stood around it with another ten people, all around our age, a few faces I actually recognized.
“Diego!” she cried excitedly, leaving the group to throw her arms around me. A warm greeting I didn’t expect, but certainly didn’t mind. Her lips brushed my cheek and came to a rest on the corner of my lip.
I caught a familiar smell and pulled away. “Please don’t tell me Ram gave you some of his moonshine.”
She grinned, holding up an unmarked bottle. “He said it’s legal.”
“And awful.” I grabbed the bottle from her hand, sniffing the contents. “Smells like straight peaches and rubbing alcohol.”
A subtle improvement from the battery acid he used to brew in his basement. He offered me a liter once when I came home from high school, and I’d got the entire team drunk from the single bottle.
“It’s a bit of an acquired taste, but so good,” Cassandra insisted.
I chanced a sip and shrugged. “Okay. It’s better than I remember. I’ll give him that. But seriously? You just took unmarked liquor from a guy named Ram?”
“Paul said it was okay.” Her eyes sparkled, voice clear. She dipped her head. “Also, your friends have been telling all your secrets.”
I winced, eyes skirting back to the familiar faces around the bonfire. “You can’t hold any of them against me. I was in high school and a real asshole.”
After I’d left for a boarding school on a football scholarship, my brief visits back home were as close to a vacation as I’d get. Long weekends, maybe a week, in the late winter, after championships and before Spring Training started in earnest. A strange hybrid of a Rumspringa and Spring Break. I’d gotten wild, that much was for sure, and I flipped through the various stories that might have been told around the fire with a bottle of moonshine.
“Something about night fishing?” she whispered, eyebrows waggling.
I stilled. “Oh, they’re not keeping any of my secrets, are they?”
“I think they’re getting you back for not bringing any of your more famous girlfriends to meet them.”
“Please,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re practically a celebrity around here. Right next to Maddie, who got a small following while she was rushing for a sorority.”
“Oh, a sorority! Well, how can I compete with that? You sure you don’t want to ditch me for her?”
I tipped her head up, brushing a kiss over her nose. “Not a chance. You sure you want me to take you night fishing?”
The infectious grin slid back onto her face, and she nodded.
“Then I guess we’re going night fishing.”