Chapter 13
CADE
She actually wrote me back. I could barely believe my eyes when her letter showed up in my mailbox. I sent a mental thanks to both Whitney and Val. I read and reread her letter, imagining her voice in my head as I did.
The next thing I did was an internet search on rheumatoid arthritis, gathering all the information I could about the condition. No wonder she seemed different at the reunion, I thought as I scanned through the articles. She’s been in pain.
The thought made my heart ache.
How would I feel if I suddenly had firefighting, surfing, and softball taken away from me? I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be so trapped in my own body.
That thought made me angry. I saw the illness like a villain, a dragon I could slay (okay, maybe Val was onto something with the whole White Knight tendency).
I printed a few articles to take to the firehouse with me and read through more carefully when we had down time.
Speaking of which, I had to get to the firehouse soon, but I still sat down and wrote out a quick response. I didn’t want to lose the momentum we had going, which would already be delayed by the unhurried nature of snail mail.
This was good, though—writing letters. Already I could hear a happier tone in the words she shared with me. We were on track to renewing our friendship. I could feel it.
I purposefully avoided talking about my tattoo. Honestly, I didn’t think she was ready for its significance. I decided not to answer the firehouse nickname question, either, hoping she wouldn’t notice and would abandon the subject.
I knew she had a fiancé, and it’s not like I thought she’d judge me, but I still didn’t want her to get the wrong impression regarding my “Casanova” persona.
That life had felt pretty stale since I saw her at the reunion, anyway.
If I had my way, soon the guys would have to come up with a new moniker for me.
Brooke’s next letter came on a dry August day. Echo and I had spent the morning out running drills and we were both propped up on the couch ready to kick back and watch some Jane Austen (seriously, is this what my life had become?). I gently unfolded the handwritten sheet and began reading.
Dear Cade,
I’ve never actually been to the West Coast. Maybe I’ll make it out there some day. I’m including a photo of me & Maple. Maybe you can add it to your album, if you want.
Remember my roommate, Whitney? We just found out she’s pregnant.
From a one-night stand, of all things. The guy’s not interested in being involved, but Whit’s still going to have the baby.
She seems to be doing pretty well with the whole thing, considering.
She’s a badass. Practically Superwoman. I admire her like crazy. She’s going to be an amazing mom.
I’m doing better lately, too. I’m going to counseling now, which is scary, but also kind of awesome? I’ve been trying to “unpack” some of the baggage I felt after my dad left.
How’s your week going?
Hugs,
Brooke
I decided to watch the movie before I wrote her back, so I could show her I was holding up my end of our bargain.
Dear Brooke,
Wow, Whitney’s pregnant. Tell her congrats for me. Will you still live together? Sounds like a big life change. I know we’re in our 20s, and I have friends starting to have kids, too. Sometimes I barely feel like I’m an adult myself, though, ya know?
So I watched Sense and Sensibility. I didn’t hate it, except damn . . . can Kate Winslet ever catch a break? Married to PROFESSOR SNAPE?! What a mess for her. Do you think she’d really be happy with a guy that much older than her? I guess some girls are into that.
Seems like Hugh Grant always gets the leading lady. What was that movie of his you made me go see with you? Something about a place with a blue door.
I’m glad to hear you have the support you need, B. You deserve it.
Will you see your mom for the holidays? Hope to hear back soon :)
Love,
Cade
Cade,
Notting Hill!!!! A classic. Can’t beat a 90s flick with Julia Roberts.
I haven’t talked to my mom about the holidays yet. I almost always hang out with Owen, though. Did you know he’s a chef in Birch Hollow? So he’ll be preparing the food on Thanksgiving, not me. I still haven’t recovered from the baking fiasco of 2003. Who knew acrylic nails were so flammable?
I can’t believe you actually watched Sense and Sensibility. You’re a man of your word, Cade Adler. If you really want to get into Jane Austen deep tracks, rent Mansfield Park or Emma next.
I actually think Brock and I are moving in together soon, before we plan the wedding. We’ve been looking at apartments, but I might just move into his. I’m hoping to stay close to Whit, and the baby, and of course we’ll need to be near the hospital. Commuting in Boston is a nightmare.
I’ll send you my new address when I have it!
B
Brooke Marie Meadows,
Are you kidding me with that movie rec?? I watched Mansfield Park, and . . . Sorry, I could not get over her falling for her cousin. Totally ruined the romance aspect. And a female main character named Fanny? Call me immature, but that’s just funny.
I think I might need to rent Die Hard again as a palate cleanser.
I know it’s only September, but I’m hoping I’ll get some time off for Thanksgiving to fly back and see my folks. Mom mentioned they might go visit Aunt Pat in Florida, though. Seems like sunshine and beach are hard to resist in the Adler family.
Can we talk on the phone soon? Would love to hear your voice.
Thinking of you,
Cade
A month went by without another letter from Brooke. I thought back to what I had written in my last letter, worrying that I’d come on too strong and screwed this whole thing up—again.
Then November rolled around, and still no word from Brooke. My parents decided to spend six weeks in Florida and look at vacation rentals down there, so we skipped a Thanksgiving get-together, and I was on my own until Christmas. I hadn’t felt so lonely in a long, long time.
I’d started to give up hope when one day in late November, Brooke’s Landline showed up on my incoming calls. I nearly dove for the phone.
“Brooke? Are you there? You okay?”
I didn’t care how panicked and desperate my voice sounded. But it wasn’t Brooke’s voice that met mine on the other line—
“Cade? It’s Whit. I don’t know what to do. She needs you. I think you need to come.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I hung up the phone and started searching for flights for Boston.