Chapter 8 #2
Sam opened the front door and patted her shoulder. “Hang in there tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Drea nodded and started to walk to her car as kids clad in their Halloween best filled the sidewalk. “And Drea.” She turned back to Sam. “Thank you.”
Drea got into her car and watched Ash, Sam, and Jake walk down the street together, holding hands.
Streetlamps filled the crisp night sky with a warm glow, but it did nothing to soften the pain in Drea’s chest. Jake and Sam had always been family to her, but she’d never felt more like an outsider than right now.
Except, of course, with her own blood family.
She let out a sigh. “Okay. Hell, here I come.”
Cassie sat next to Molly on the sofa, ready for a chill Halloween movie night.
“Thank god for peanut butter cups.” Molly groaned as she bit into one.
Cassie smiled at her, seeing a little of her sister peeking through the sadness that had taken over Molly the past few weeks. “Just leave a few in case any trick-or-treaters come by.”
“Do you get many here?” Molly asked.
Cassie shrugged. “A few usually.” She petted Digit, who was curled up between them.
“Can you pass me the chocolate malt balls?” Molly reached into the plastic pumpkin bowl and handed her a fun-size package.
They settled in and watched the Charlie Brown movie, which was as scary as they got on Halloween.
They’d had enough trauma in real life that they didn’t seek it in movie form.
It had been a long time since she and Molly had spent an actual Halloween together since Molly was usually busy doing events on Halloween night.
It was nice being with her sister again.
As the movie credits rolled on the screen, Cassie decided to come clean with Molly. “Hey Mol.” Molly turned to her, and the lack of sadness in her eyes made Cassie doubt whether this was the best time to tell her. “I wanted to tell you that I, um . . . I went to see Eva.”
Molly sighed. “Cas, why would you do that?”
“Because I hated seeing you so sad, and I didn’t understand what happened. I thought if you both just talked, you could figure it out.” Cassie could feel herself being defensive, which was not what she was aiming for, but she felt dumb for going behind Molly’s back.
Molly moved the bangs out of her eyes, taking a moment with the information.
She met Cassie’s eyes, and Cassie could see their mom in her face.
Everyone always said how much Molly and Cassie looked alike, but Molly had always looked more like their mom, which stung a little.
They both had a gentleness in their eyes that Cassie had never embodied.
“Do you think we didn’t try talking? That we just got bored and gave up? ”
“I don’t know what I thought, except that you weren’t talking to each other, and you weren’t talking to me about it. I just wanted to make it better.”
“All we’ve been doing is trying.” Molly shook her head. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“Don’t you even want to know what she said?” Cassie asked.
Molly sighed but didn’t answer, so Cassie forged ahead.
“She said she wants kids,” Cassie said, curious to hear Molly’s response. It had been a while since they’d discussed their views on the topic. If Eva and Molly were ending over it, Cassie wanted to know how Molly felt.
Molly nodded and looked away for a moment before speaking. “And I don’t.”
A distant thought quickly built up inside Cassie, forcing her to ask. “It isn’t because of me, is it?”
“What? What do you mean?” At least the shock in Molly’s voice was comforting, implying that it might not be the reason.
“You basically raised me after Mom and Dad died. Is that why you don’t want to have kids?
Did that experience ruin it for you? Did I ruin it for you?
” Cassie heard her own voice trembling, only realizing in this moment that this had been a deep-rooted fear for her.
She hated feeling so vulnerable, unsure if the next words out of Molly’s mouth might rip her heart out, the way only a sibling’s could.
“Hey.” Molly wrapped her in a hug. “Of course not. Me helping to raise you and me having kids don’t even exist on the same planet in my mind.
You didn’t ruin anything. I love you and the family we’ve built.
It will be smaller now, just you and me, but you’re all I’ve ever needed, Cas.
” She squeezed Cassie tighter for a moment to emphasize the words.
“And you know why I don’t want to have kids.
The thought of ever passing on even a piece of what we went through.
I would die before I would do that to another person. ”
Cassie tried hard not to entertain memories of their childhood, focusing instead on the situation with Eva.
“I wanted to believe it was just a rough patch with Eva. That you two could fix it. If anyone can, you and Eva can.” Cassie could hear the childish pleading in her voice and felt embarrassed by it.
“But when she mentioned kids, I realized how na?ve I was being.”
Molly gave her a sad smile. “I know how much Eva means to you. We will always love each other, but sometimes love just isn’t enough.”
Hearing Molly, the romantic one, the committed one, the epitome of a solid relationship for so many years, say that was crushing. The final realization that Molly and Eva were really done brought a lump to Cassie’s throat, and she swallowed it down hard.
“Cas, I know it hurts. But I need you to trust me. This is what is right for me, for all of us—to move on.”
As much as she wanted to be strong for Molly, and herself, she wasn’t sure how exactly to close the door on the family she had known since she was eleven.
She had thought Eva and Molly would be together forever.
That Eva would be her sister forever. And now—she blinked back the tears welling in her eyes, not wanting to make it harder for Molly.
Now, they would have to start over, again.
It took Drea ten minutes to find a parking spot, and she fought an internal battle in every one of them not to turn around and go home.
Her parents’ annual gala was supposedly for charity, but it had always seemed to her like more of a power play.
To anyone else, the two-story mansion in Uptown lit to the brim against the dark night sky with the perfectly manicured lawn and palm trees framing the grand entryway probably seemed like a dream house.
But to Drea, it had always been sterile and cold. More for show than for living in.
Normally it was a black-tie event, but because it was being held on Halloween for the first time, her parents had decided on the theme of a masquerade ball.
She had quite a collection of masks, having lived in New Orleans most of her life, and she was more than happy to be masked all night and hopefully never have to interact with anyone, her parents in particular.
She followed a couple up the walkway, the sounds of classical music escaping into the night as the front door opened.
The butler held the door for the couple, then bowed his head at Drea with recognition. “Madam.”
“Good evening, George.”
She scanned the people inside, not seeing anyone she would have to greet, and made a beeline to the most important spot in the main room. The bartender met her eyes after handing two glasses of champagne to the women next to her. “Whiskey,” she said. He nodded.
When he handed her the glass, Drea turned and took in the room.
A string quartet’s tunes filled the room as a number of people danced on the ballroom floor and others chatted along the border.
She sipped her drink, wishing it would transport her out of here, having wasted enough of her life being the dutiful daughter at boring events like this.
“Drea, dear.” She turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, dropping the mask from her face and taking in her mother and father, dressed to the nines as usual.
Her mother wore a sequined, figure-flattering light blue gown and her father, as always, wore a crisp tux.
The only part that had changed over the years was the increasing amount of gray hair and wrinkles.
Too bad their harsh judgment hadn’t diminished along with their skin elasticity.
She nodded at them both. “Doctor, doctor.”
Her mother rolled her eyes at the played-out joke, which brought a flutter of joy to Drea. She sipped her drink to hide her grin.
“How are you?” her mother asked, leaning in to hug her without managing to actually hug, protecting her makeup. There was no hint of any true emotion beyond annoyance.
“I’m here.” She couldn’t feign enthusiasm for any more of these events. Showing up was her limit. “And you?”
“Oh, we’re fine. Glad you could join us.” Her mother glanced down at Drea’s black dress and frowned. “Same as last year I see.”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of black-tie events warranting a dedicated wardrobe.” She took a long sip of whiskey at the cold expression on her mother’s face.
“Let’s be civil,” her father warned.
Drea forced a polite smile that made her want to throw up. “Always.”