Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
“Fuck it.”Presley shook his head, looking up at the gunmetal gray sky. The downpour was showing no signs of stopping, and they’d had to halt their work on the exterior of the house.
And they were so close. If it wasn’t for this storm that had been raging all afternoon, they’d have finished by tomorrow.
“It’s just some rain,” Marley said, his voice even. “It happens.”
“I know that.” Pres scowled at him. “But it’s the fucking summer. Why now?” And why did his heart ache looking at it? If it was any other day, he’d be driving to the dance school and telling Cassie he was taking her home.
But she wasn’t here.
“Because the world hates you. There, does that help?” Marley asked him. “Do you feel better now? It’s raining because everything is about you.”
“Shut the hell up.” Presley shook his head. “I’m just trying to make us a profit here.”
“No you’re not. You’re trying to find something – or someone – to blame for your bad mood. When you know you’re the one that caused it.”
Pres blinked. “What did you say?”
Marley caught his eye. His usually easy-going brother looked angry. Like really angry. “You think you’re the only one who’s suffered a loss?” Marley asked.
“Where did that come from?”
Marley shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just go shout at the clouds again.”
“Of course it matters,” Pres said, more annoyed than anything else. His brother was supposed to be on his side, not making him feel worse. “What loss have you suffered?”
“I said it doesn’t matter.” Marley’s voice was more forceful this time. “And at least I can say I’m not the author of my own fucking misery.”
Pres’ mouth was dry. He’d spent the last two days wanting to punch something. And right now his brother’s face was in the firing line. He turned away, gritting his teeth, because he was a grown man.
And grown men didn’t fight.
Plus the way he felt right now, any fight he was involved in would end up with someone in the hospital.
Marley sighed. “Come on, man, you’ve gotta get out of this funk. You’re the one who told her to go to New York.”
“I know that.” Pres gritted his teeth.
He could hear Marley shuffling his feet. They were in the garage of the house, sheltering from the rain. Trying to see if it was going to stop in time for them to at least finish the work on the roof.
“Have you heard from her?” Marley asked.
“Yep.” Pres turned around. Marley was at the entrance to the garage. The overhead door was open, and he was leaning against the wall, looking out at the rain.
“She okay?”
“I think so. She was rushing to another meeting when she called. They’re having a lot of them. Trying to get them to bond.”
“Did she say if she’s staying?”
“Nope.”
Marley shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Thanks, man.” Pres let out a low breath.
“I mean it. What was sending her away all about? What kind of stupid mother fucker tells the woman he loves to leave?”
“I didn’t tell her to leave,” he said. “I just refused to stand in her way.”
“Not the way I heard it.” Marley shrugged. “From the way Mom tells it, you pretty much said that unless she went to New York you’d never be completely sure about you two.”
“I never said that.” Pres frowned. “That’s definitely not what I said.”
“Then what did you say?”
He swallowed. He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t want to think about anything. For the past two days he’d lived for messages and voicemails from Cassie. They’d managed one broken conversation last night when she was heading out to a bar to meet the other band members.
“I said she should try it. That’s all.”
Marley turned his body to look at him head on. “Because nothing says I love you like ‘fuck off to another state’.”
“You know why I did it.” Pres was getting annoyed again. Not that it took much. He felt like a tinder-dry pile of sticks. The merest spark made him want to explode.
“Jade was going to go anyway,” Marley said. “You and I both know that. It was never a match made in fucking heaven. You got married because she was pregnant. And she was never the settling down type.”
Pres inhaled sharply. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“I know you don’t want to,” Marley said carefully. “But don’t you think you should? Because I don’t know if anybody else has pointed it out to you yet, but Cassie isn’t Jade.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Pres shook his head.
“I think you know it here,” Marley said, pointing at his own head. “But not here.” He pressed his palms against his chest. “Not where it matters. Maybe in here you’re thinking that if you play things differently, everything will turn out okay.”
“Won’t it?” Pres asked, his voice low. It felt like he was being hollowed out. Emptied.
“No. Because Cassie isn’t Jade. She doesn’t need her freedom or her youth or whatever the fuck Jade was chasing. She needs you. You and Delilah.”
“She has us. She knows that. I made sure she knew it.” Pres tried to center himself. It felt like his whole world was tipped at an angle. Making him feel dizzy as fuck. “I told her I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not.”
“But maybe that’s not what she needed,” Marley said softly. “Maybe she needed you to fight for her.”
His mouth felt dry. “No,” he said. “That’s not what she needed. I tried that once. A woman ended up dead.”
“Your wife died,” Marley corrected him. “And not because of you. Because of an idiot who’d been drinking too much and made the stupid decision to get into his truck. It wasn’t your fault. You know that.” Then he shook his head. “Whatever. Believe what you want. I was right all along, you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Thanks,” Pres said. “It’s good to know you’re on my side.”
“Lola’s sad,” Delilah whispered to him that night as he sat on her bed. She clutched her giraffe tightly to her chest.
“She is?” Pres asked. “Why?”
“Because Cassie wasn’t at dance today.”
He swallowed hard. “Yeah, I can see why that would make her sad.”
“She wants to talk to Cassie,” Delilah told him. “Like she promised.”
He blew out a mouthful of air. “Cassie’s going to call on Saturday. You can both talk to her then.”
Delilah clutched Lola tighter. “She can’t wait that long.”
He gave her the tightest of smiles. “It’ll be here before you know it,” he said softly.
“But what if she’s busy on Saturday? Can we call her now?” Delilah looked at him hopefully.
He frowned, trying to think of the right thing to do here. He didn’t want Delilah to start demanding to talk to Cassie whenever she wanted. He knew that Cassie was busy. She sounded tired whenever he spoke to her.
And most evenings this week she had things scheduled.
“I’ll see if we can call her tomorrow night,” he promised.
“But Daddy…”
“Tomorrow.” He caught her eye, trying to send her a subliminal message. Please don’t create a scene. He wasn’t sure he could cope with it. Not with Marley’s accusations from earlier still swirling through his head.
“Okay.” Delilah nodded. “Tomorrow.”
He leaned forward to kiss her. “Scoot down, I’ll tuck you in.” And for once, she did as she was told. He kissed her once more and then stood, walking over to turn out her light.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“If you left me too, who would look after me?”
His hand froze against the light switch. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Delilah said nothing for a minute. “Granny would look after us,” she whispered to Lola. “If Daddy is sent away too.”
Ah fuck it. He walked back to her bed. “I need you to listen to me. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was firm. “I’m right here. With you. And this is where I’ll always be.”
“Even when I’m grown up?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My mom and dad are still here for me, aren’t they? Granny and Gramps I mean.”
“Yes.” Her voice was small.
He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.
“I miss Cassie,” she mumbled against his chest.
“I do too.” He stroked her hair. “So much.”
“Then why don’t you tell her to come home?” Delilah looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Tell her we miss her and that she needs to come home right now.”
He opened his mouth to explain it to her. To tell her that they all needed this.
But Delilah didn’t. She didn’t need this at all. He could tell that from the expression on her face. All she knew was that people kept leaving and she had no idea why.
“Try to get some sleep,” he whispered. “It’s late.”
She nodded against his chest.
He lay her back down, then sat with her until her breathing evened out and she softly descended into oblivion. Her expression was peaceful at last, as he tiptoed out of her bedroom.
He wished it was that easy for him to sleep.
But then maybe it shouldn’t be.
Because Marley was right. He was a fucking idiot.