8. Cassidy
Chapter 8
Cassidy
T homas looked like a younger version of Eric, except where he might’ve once been a redhead, he’d bleached his hair blonde. And where Eric had a persistent frown marring his face, Thomas had a goofy demeanor about him and was probably around my age. I wondered if the twins they’d mentioned had red hair like Lori or black like Eric.
I’d left them taunting Eric in the café; he looked like he was about to explode. I now stood outside, holding myself tightly in the frigid air. It hadn’t stopped sprinkling with snow since I’d arrived in town but it had definitely picked up. I’d entered Alice’s number in Eric’s cell hoping she’d answer.
Surprisingly, she did. “Hello?” She yawned audibly. “Who is this?”
“Oh, thank goodness. Alice it’s me Cassidy!”
There was a shuffle, as if she was doing a double take on her cell.
“Something weird happened with my cell,” I assured her. “But I’m still on my way. I’ve just been delayed by a few days.”
“Oh, was that this month?” she chimed on the other end. “I thought that was next month?” A jab spiked my stomach. I’d been texting her and we’d spoke about it twice already. Granted both times she was at a party and perhaps she couldn’t hear me properly when I’d called. “Okay cool. Whatever, I’m having some awesome parties lately and there’s some smoking backpackers here. While my parents are away, I’ve been having a delicious time. You know the whole boy from the wrong side of the tracks thing, it’s got me hot and heavy,” she laughed.
“Oh, that’s cool,” I said, not entirely finding the appeal. Usually, that would’ve had me excited but now I felt… indifferent? “Well, you’ll never guess it but I’ve sworn to celibacy so that won’t be a thing for me but I can’t wait to party,” I laughed.
“What? Ew gross? Who are you? Don’t give me that celibacy bullshit too. Monica tried to pull the same stunt last year and she lasted four months until everyone stopped inviting her to parties and stuff because she went all weird about guys trying on her. It was a total bore.”
My heart sank. Shit, would they kick me out too? I hadn’t spoken to any of my friends in Canada for a while, but had we always been this guy centric?
“Oh by the way,” she continued. “Fredrick was calling around for you this past month too.” A cold sweat poured over me and I felt the lump in my throat thicken. “But no one knew where you were besides Manhattan. Should I call him and let him know you’ll be here?”
“No,” I blurted out. At her silence, I continued. “No, not yet. I just want it to be us girls for a while, you know?”
She seemed to mull over that. “Okay well sounds kind of boring, I mean you have to give him some kind of attention now and then, Cassidy. I don’t know much about lasting relationships and what not, but that sounds like a good start.”
“We’re not in a relationship,” I quickly blurted. Why was Fredrick asking for my whereabouts? Shit, was he in on this with my parents?
“Whatever you say,” she said through a yawn, disinterested. “By the way, where are you calling from? The reception sounds really bad, like somethings blowing in the cell?”
I looked around at the small-town square and the main street blanketed in snow. Someone casually walked their dog on a lead, waving at me when I looked up. Awkwardly, I reciprocated the action. Did strangers always greet one another like this outside of Manhattan? Was this that small town feel I’d heard people describe?
“Just a small stop in,” I gushed. “Okay I’ll see you later. Big kisses!” And I hung up.
My heart churned and a heavy dread washed over me. Frederick. Fuck. Why was he trying to find me? Hadn’t I made it blatantly clear I wasn’t interested those many years ago? Wasn’t me running away enough of an answer for him?
“Hey,” Eric growled from behind. I jumped, almost dropping the cell. In the movement, my leg gave way and I slipped on the icy surface. I screamed and closed my eyes, clutching at my chest and waiting for the fall. He caught me, peeling one eye at a time open. His eyebrows were knitted together as he held me up, suspended in the air like I weighed nothing.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” I breathed, a cool air escaping me. The legs he propped me back on were shaky and that jumbled feeling of emotion left me vulnerable, tears threatening to escape. Or maybe that had been the result of my call with Alice. I couldn’t cry in front of this brute of a man. He’d just think I was some city girl that couldn’t fend for herself. But wasn’t I? I had no cash. No cell. And was running away from a past I was suddenly realizing I had no control over. Because my parents and Frederick still felt like they owned me.
And with a difficult swallow, I realized after my brief call with Alice that I really had outgrown that world I’d left behind. I might’ve still gone to parties and been a wild child in Manhattan but at least I’d made genuine friends like Clover and Issobelle. Hadn’t I? They didn’t care about boys and parties like I did. And they reprimanded me when I was in the wrong. I clutched at the thought of what they might say to me now.
“Cassidy, is everything alright?” Eric asked. My name on his lips was like a calming balm. Because wasn’t it? Right now, I was okay. I was safe. And every self-help and new age book I’d read over the past two years as I tried to reinvent myself taught me to focus on the now and remind myself that right now, I was okay.
I clutched at my crystal necklace with a little feather attached to it, absorbing the strengths the market lady claimed it harbored. Self-love and protection. Well at least that’s what I vaguely remember she said it possessed. Or maybe that’s what I’d decided it to be.
“Mhmm,” I said, realizing I hadn’t spoken for a while and if this man had his way, we’d freeze out in the cold in absolute silence. I handed him his cell. “Thank you. All sorted.”
He didn’t seem very convinced going by his expression and with a brief glance through the window he grunted in irritation. I followed his gaze where his brother now gave a thumbs-up and then as if busted waved my way cheekily.
“Did you still want to look around town?” Eric asked, ignoring Thomas. I tried to hide the sly smile. His brother seemed to keep him youthful at least. And as an only child, I had to confess I kind of enjoyed watching the dynamics between the three siblings. And to think that there were another two, I wondered what that might’ve been like.
“I’d really like that,” I said, despite the growing need to go back into the warmth.
“You might want these. They’re Lori’s,” he said, offering me a beanie and mittens. “It’s colder today than usual. And we won’t stay out for long. I don’t want you getting sick.”
I peered at him from the corner of my eye. For someone who pretended to be impersonal and indifferent, he certainly seemed easy with caring for others. I shuffled them on, grateful for the extra layer of warmth.
“You look like your brother you know,” I said to start conversation, hoping that he might not find it such an inconvenience this time.
He tsked as if the thought was more a nuisance. “He’s a runt.”
I laughed and he seemed stunned. Shadow barked, bouncing beside us on the snow as we walked. With a flush over his cheeks, Eric stared ahead.
“Compared to you, I think anyone would look like a runt. But it’s kind of nice seeing you all get along. I don’t have any siblings so it’s nice to watch,” I admitted with hands in my puffy pink jumper.
He seemed to consider this for a while as we rounded the corner of the main street and toward a lake. It was so serene and quiet here. The lake had frozen over, the sun glistening over it effortlessly. Snowflakes created small droplets all over my jacket, and yet somehow it made it feel more magical.
“Come under here,” Eric instructed, directing me toward a wooden rotunda. It did the best it could to block out the snow, revealing the vastness of the lake and the mountains beyond.
“During the summer you’ll often see the locals fishing here. They don’t catch much but I think that’s more about their skill than what’s available in here. And sometimes tourists will back up their boats and just party on the lake for a day or so. Most of them coming from the bigger town over.” He pointed at certain spots, creating a life outside the desolate view now. I couldn’t imagine any of those things.
“And do you fish?” I asked.
“No. It’s never been my sport and I’m not here during the summer. My uncle and father love it though.”
“Where do you go during the summer?” I asked curiously. Did he hibernate when it picked up in population?
He seemed to consider me for a moment, as if revealing any more information might give away his deepest and darkest secrets. Or perhaps it was more information than he’d been willing to give a stranger, who as far as I was aware was stranded with him for another night.
“I only ever come here for the winter season for the whole month of January to relieve my father and uncle of their duties around the town.”
“So where do you come from?” I inquired also curious about his parents. I’d just assumed he was local. For some reason, I was taken back by that. So, this wasn’t his home? And yet I couldn’t imagine him anywhere else.
Again, he seemed to consider my question as he guided me outside of the rotunda and back toward the main street. “I live in Chicago.”
My jaw dropped. “Wait you live in a city? With actual buildings and suburbia?”
He seemed just as mock-shocked by my admission. “Is it so hard to believe?”
“Yea, well you know for the most part you don’t seem like the city man type?”
“The city man type?”
I shrugged nonchalant. “You know there’s heaps of them, the artist, the business man, the husband with a wife and kids but says he’s single, the crypto guy, the entrepreneur, the—”
“You seem to know a lot about these types?” he queried, caution in his tone.
Eric pointed out the local grocery store. I’d driven past it on the way in but had thought it was an abandoned building. The town needed a makeover, but it held a certain charm. I sighed, defeated in the admission I was about to make. Would he think less of me for it? Everyone dated in Manhattan like it was a professional sport. Didn’t they? “Well, you could consider me a serial dater or a socialite depending on what way you look at it.”
His eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly, his expression unreadable like usual. “You don’t have a ‘type’ then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, I just think you know when you know, you know?”
Again, he held that scornful expression as he pushed his shoulders back. I hadn’t realized how much he’d been trying to cater to my size by dipping his gaze to my eye level as we walked. “No. I don’t,” he said bitterly.
Okay that definitely sounded like someone had been burnt. I couldn’t see any wedding ring so I’d assumed he was single, but it wouldn’t be uncommon for someone his age to be married and divorced by now, another sport in Manhattan.
Pretending like I didn’t notice the change in his tone, I bounced along as he pointed out a fabric store. It looked like a shop front but was also obviously someone’s home as well. Inside the first room was Ann rocking back and forth on a wooden chair and knitting. “Well, what about you, what’s your type?”
Immediately he growled. “I don’t have a type. I don’t do women.”
“Oh.” I was taken aback. He seemed confused. “Sorry I had no idea that you preferred men.”
“I’m not into men,” he quickly blurted out, red crossing his cheeks once again.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, finding myself laughing at his outright reaction.
“As in dating or women, I don’t do it,” he clarified. “It’s too complicated and distracting.”
“Uh-huh,” I said in a singsong way, satisfied by the way it flustered him. It was rather entertaining being able to get under this hulk of man’s skin. I understood why his siblings picked on him. But also, if that was the truth, then I found it sad that he found women “complicated and distracting.” Then again, how could I comment, I was a serial dater. Well ex-serial dater. And dating had only become complicated because it never lead to anything more.
“You should give it a go, who knows maybe you’ll even like it.”
He grunted by way of response.
“I’ve dated heaps of guys,” I casually said, continuing the conversation. “And obviously none stuck around but I still met some amazing people and learnt new things. Maybe you shouldn’t put so much pressure on it and just see where it gets you. Maybe you’ll find an uncomplicated woman.”
He was quiet for a while. When I looked at him from the corner of my eye, it was obvious he was confused about something. “When you say you’ve dated a lot of men, you do it to have fun?”
This was traction. He was asking questions. And that was what I told everyone, it had covered time and been fun in the past. But it had also been a roller coaster when I liked someone who didn’t reciprocate the feelings—or attracting the same type of men who only wanted flings. I had told everyone it was just for fun and to pass time, and yet something compelled me to tell Eric otherwise, part of the truth perhaps. Probably because he didn’t know me and also because in the coming days we’d never see one another again. I wondered what this “non-dater’s” take might be on my truth.
“I tell everyone it’s for fun,” I admitted. “But the truth is, I’ve been looking for the love of my life the day I flew into Manhattan. Kind of corny right?”
He listened intently instead of laughing like I thought he might’ve.
“And I’m not even a hopeless romantic or anything, but there was a lot of pressure from my parents to go down a particular path. And I assumed if I were to create a life of my own and start my own family, I wouldn’t have to do that.” I contained my nerves, the mere thought of my parents and their “conditions” bubbling over.
“Why do I have a feeling you’re only telling me half the truth?” he queried as we stepped back toward the store.
“Because maybe I’m one of the complicated women you avoid,” I laughed lightly as I absentmindedly reached out to catch a snowflake. The snow had continued to pick up since we’d left the café. I wondered how foolish I sounded to him, but he said nothing.
“Do you really think you need a husband to prove yourself to your parents?” he asked and watched me intently.
I shrugged. “I’m not overly ambitious like my friends back in Manhattan. If you met Clover and Issobelle you’d be shocked as to how they could even be friends with me, we’re completely different. I don’t have goals and my parents never really expected anything of me because they’d already decided what was best for me. I just want to live a content life with people I love. Not be forced into a box that my parents decided for me. Sounds weird coming from a twenty-six-year-old, right?”
“I think everyone has their own pressures and there’s nothing wrong if you don’t have a career ambition. But don’t you think you do in a way, since you’re trying to pave your own path from your parents’ trajectory?”
I considered him, a smile spreading across my face. His words made me feel good in my decision. Almost brave. I’d felt like a spoilt brat for years. I didn’t have the same drive as my new friends in Manhattan, and all my old friends only cared about wealth and a good time. I sat somewhere in between, not entirely sure as to where I belonged anymore.
He opened the café door for me; no doubt we’d ended the town tour early because the snowfall had picked up too much. I was scattered and soaked, even more grateful for the added mittens and beanie Lori had let me borrow.
“Wise words,” I charmed. “And thank you for listening. I don’t know how we ended up talking about me, when we were talking about your love life?”
Thomas gasped, still swinging back and forth on the barstool. “My brother actually has a love life?”
“Shut it,” Eric growled.
Lori was reading a book and never looked up, but a smile toyed at her lips.
Thomas laughed, reaching out a hand to Shadow, who purposefully stepped wide so he couldn’t touch him. I realized then the truth the others had insinuated. Shadow was rather… was snobby the right word to use for him? He pranced behind his owner, the dog fully aware of his luscious coat. Perhaps picky was more accurate. An amused but heartfelt relief flooded me, liking the idea that I was one of few he’d taken a liking to.
“I think we should close up, boss,” Thomas said. “No one’s going to come in today. Not with this weather.”
“Remind me what work you were doing again?” Lori accused with a squinted gaze in his direction. “I’ll tell Mom you’ve been slacking off.”
“Not that she expects him to do anything,” Eric grumbled under his breath.
“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m the favorite,” Thomas defended.
“You’re the youngest,” Lori corrected.
“Therefore the favorite,” Thomas said teasingly as he patted the chair beside him, inviting me to sit next to him again. “But you two are his perfect little soldiers. Did you know these two come back this time every year to look over the shop and Mom while Dad and our uncle go south for hunting?”
I looked between Lori and Eric. “Really?” I said, intrigued. Although Eric had briefly mentioned it.
“The moment one of you magically obtain a partner you might have to skip a year, could you imagine that?” He gasped, still childishly swinging on his chair.
Lori harrumphed, snapping her book shut. “And shouldn’t you be studying and doing something with your preadolescent life?”
He kicked up a cocky boyish grin. “I can do both. Shouldn’t you both be running your oh so very important businesses and lives back home? But no, they always find this as a little escape and sanctuary.”
“You both own your own business?” I asked curiously.
Lori sighed, defeated by her little brother. “We do, I run a catering company in LA and Eric runs an IT company in Chicago.”
Eric seemed uninterested in the discussion. IT, huh? I would’ve never picked him as an IT kind of guy.
“After the Christmas and New Year’s period I give my team a break. My second-in-charge organises all the small events and venues while I’m recouping for a few weeks when I come back home. It works for both of us,” she said, shrugging her shoulder.
Thomas snorted. “Her ‘second-in-charge,’” he quoted. “More like her very handsome assistant who she hasn’t been able to make a move on yet.”
“Watch it.” She pointed a finger at him. “Or I will come around there and pull your hair out.”
“I’ll tell Mom.” He poked out his tongue.
Part of me was sad that he didn’t mention anything further about Eric’s’ business, but I could tell by his brooding demeanor it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about much during his visit away.
“But I think he’s right, Eric, we should close up and go home before the snow gets worse,” Lori said, looking over her shoulder at Eric casually scratching under Shadow’s chin.
He sighed, agreeing. “Then let’s close up.”
Thomas clapped his hands together, celebrating being let off shift early. I liked him; he was goofy and childlike but had a certain inviting charm about him which I imagined made it very easy for him to make friends.
Lori shook her head as she stood up and began closing the café. Admittedly, it looked like she’d already done most of it before we returned. “What are you making for dinner tonight?” Lori asked Eric.
He shrugged. She sized him up and he gritted out, “What?”
“You have a guest, cook something.”
Both of their gazes landed on me. “Oh no, don’t worry about me. By all means, in fact I should be cooking for you, since you’re letting me stay.”
“You can cook?” Thomas asked sounding impressed.
“Well, I could only cook him an omelette this morning, and that’s as far as the skillset goes.” I felt rather deflated by the admission.
“She made you an omelette this morning?” Thomas perked up in his chair, raising an eyebrow between us.
Eric slipped a disapproving glare at Thomas before walking into the hidden kitchen.
“I can give you a recipe and a few ingredients for a casserole if you’d like?” Lori suggested.
“She doesn’t eat meat,” Eric’s voice echoed through the door.
“That’s no problem,” Lori sung back. “I can make it a vegetarian one. If you’re up for the task?”
Excitement and nerves began to flutter in my stomach. What if I was really bad at it? But if I could be useful and show my appreciation, then I was more than happy to experiment. “I’d love to. Thank you.”