Chapter 2 Cassidy
TWO
CASSIDY
“Any luck?” Winnie asks, passing me a thermos of coffee. I breathe in the familiar, delicious scent of it mixed with caramel and cinnamon, heart aching as I think about everything I haven’t been able to do since arriving.
Slowly, I shake my head and take a sip. “No,” I reply quietly, eyeing Arlo and Cleo sitting in the back of the kid’s section of the library with Winnie’s niece. “There’s a landlord who might give us something temporary, but because I don’t have stable work yet, they’re…hesitant.”
Winnie pulls out two more canisters with what I’m assuming is Lasagne Soup, which she’s been supplying us with since she found us outside the cottage.
“I tried my brother, but he’s a giant asshole.
The man is going away for an entire week, wants me to check in on his cabin.
I brought up letting you guys stay there while he’s gone, but the bastard won’t have it.
” She shakes her head in disappointment. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey.” I take her hand and give it an appreciative squeeze. “You don’t have to be doing anything. And I get it. He probably doesn’t want people he doesn’t know in his house. I probably wouldn’t, either.”
She sighs, offering me a half-smile. “He’s such a stuck-up prick sometimes.
Doesn’t want people making a mess of his space.
I don’t think he realises it makes it hard for us to like him sometimes.
Like, I love my brother, don’t get me wrong, but he can be such an ass, so there are times where I just can’t bring myself to like him. ”
I take another sip of my coffee and think about my sister, who just moved to Texas.
“I think that’s just siblings,” I reply, looking over at Winnie.
Her honey-blonde hair sticks out from the dark-grey beanie she’s wearing, and her light blue eyes are locked on the kids sitting quietly, guilt twisting her features.
“I don’t hold it against him—or you. I just need a job. ”
Winnie releases another heavy breath and holds her own thermos of coffee to her chest. “I wish I could at least help you on that front. My mom put in a good word for you at Fletcher and Mariott Realtors. I don’t know how far that’ll go, but my family has been here so long we all know each other.
Mom used to babysit the Fletcher, and my aunt went to school with the Mariott side. ”
“You are already doing so much more than most,” I reply honestly.
It’s true. My ex-husband left me with nothing but the meagre savings I had when I came into the marriage.
I qualify for alimony, but he was a tricky, unfaithful, and distrustful bastard, so he hid a lot of money and gambled the rest of it away.
There’s not much for me to claim. He also didn’t adopt the kids, so there’s no child support there.
What alimony I should receive won’t kick in for another month.
We couldn’t afford to stay in New Mexico, plus the inheritance of the house gave us hope for more. I guess I should have known better.
“If things don’t work out, I might have to take the kids and move to Texas,” I murmur, bringing the warm thermos to my lips.
“They don’t want to go back south. They hated it there.
And I doubt living with my sister will be any better, but…
” I take a long sip, watching the kids as they play quietly with Winnie’s niece.
“We can’t stay if there’s nothing for us here. ”
“Why didn’t you stay with your sister? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
I shrug. “Olivia just had a baby. Total accident, didn’t know she was pregnant until too late in the second trimester, and she uprooted everything to move to Texas where she thinks her baby daddy is from.
But it was a one-night-stand, and she carries a lot of guilt over not knowing anything about him.
I tried to help her as much as I could, but. ..”
“But your husband filed for divorce, admitted all his horrible wrongdoings, and left you to pick up the pieces of your family.”
I nod once with a small laugh. “Yep. Sounds about right. We have both been going through hell the last couple of months. I don’t want to make it worse for her or my kids, honestly.”
Winnie finally tears her eyes off the children. “You know, I think about running away sometimes. It might be fun to go on an adventure.”
“Just be careful you don’t wind up getting knocked up by a cowboy you don’t know the name of,” I mutter. “Olivia would say that’s a bad plan. At least get a phone number.”
Winnie snorts and shakes her head. “Got it. Hook up, ask for number, pray for no little beans.”
“At least you’re far past the point of a teen pregnancy with twins.
” I hook my thumb in my direction with a shrug.
“Their dad was captain of the football team, and I thought that was so, so cool. And he liked me. Ugh. Na?ve little me didn’t think about condoms or birth control until after spring break when we low-key ‘dated’, and by then it was too late. ”
“Shit,” Winnie whispers, looking over again at her niece and the twins. “That’s intense. Did he stick around? I mean, I guess not, but...”
“Initially,” I say quietly. “And then his parents reminded him he had a future, and that future couldn’t include us.
He died after we graduated. Hit and run.
Never had a chance. Until that point, he’d been present but not with us emotionally because he knew he’d leave.
Arlo remembers a little of his dad, but Cleo was such a daddy's girl. She didn’t sleep for weeks.
His parents came crawling back when they realised they’d been cut out of two different wills, I heard. But by then, I’d moved on.”
My new friend sits back with another shake of her head. “Fuck it.” She riffles through her purse and pulls out her keys. “This is the front door key to my brother’s cabin.”
My eyes widen as I watch her pull the key off the chain. “What? No—”
“Hush.” She slides it towards me. “He won’t know.
The man doesn’t use security systems or anything fancy.
All you have to do is keep quiet, leave it as clean as you found it, and be out the day before he returns.
He won’t know. But you shouldn’t be sleeping in your car or at that sketchy motel on Saint View.
Not when you can have a clean bed and an actual house to stay in while we get you that job and apartment. ”
Tears burn my eyes, a lump forming in my throat. “I don’t want to impose on your brother.”
“Well, he can suck it up,” Winnie replies with a firm nod. “You’ve already gone through enough with those kids. It’s the least we can do. And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
With trembling fingers, I take the offered key. Guilt and hope both crash into me, a war I probably won’t win. But then I look over at my kids, my two sweet, tired children who just want to start over, and I tuck the key into my pocket.
“How long is he going away for?” I ask warily.
Winnie smiles. “That’s my girl.”