Chapter 5CassieLink
Chapter 5
Cassie
“I can’t believe I’m back here.”
I’ve been standing in the middle of my childhood living room for who knows how long, and I’m pretty sure that’s the third time I’ve said those words. Out loud. To myself. Like a crazy person.
For some reason, I can’t make myself sit down. I keep looking over at Dad’s chair. There’s no way I’m touching that. And my seat on the couch no longer feels like mine. But the other chair, the yellow one that doesn’t match anything in the house, is for company. And I’m not company.
Am I?
His smell is still here.
It’s strong as if he just walked out of the room and will be back any second. Or like he’s out on a case with Lincoln, and there’s pizza in the fridge.
But neither of those things is true. They’ll never be true again.
There’s a strange, sad nostalgia to coming back here this way, not as a raging success, home to take dad out for the seventy- two-ounce Challenge at Matador, but as the lonely twenty-four-year-old has-been who wants nothing more than to lean on her daddy’s shoulder and let it all out.
I lean against the center island to keep from buckling under the weight of it—the plans I had, the plans we made together.
“What do I do now?” I ask the empty room forlornly.
The thick layer of red dust on my already-destroyed blouse gives me one option. I look around and realize every surface is covered in it. The sight reminds me of a pilot I shot where our ship was stranded on Mars, and the habitat failed during a dust storm.
Too expensive .
That was the reason for not picking it up. I didn’t get it then, but I get it now as I consider how to clean up this year’s worth of grime.
Or , that little voice in my head reminds me, we can call Gary again.
“Fat lot of good that will do.”
I’ve left several messages for Gary since landing, ranging from sweet ‘Just wanna let you know I’m at Dad’s for a couple of days’ to angry ‘I deserve that new Blackstone gig, and you know it!’
You do deserve it!
I shake my head to clear it. That inner voice is gonna get me in trouble one day.
“Well, Cassandra? What’s it gonna be? Cleaning or making a fool out of yourself… again?”
My phone buzzes, making the decision for me. When I see the caller ID, my heart thuds in my chest.
This is it! He’s finally come to his senses.
“Gary! I was just about to call you. I was thinking I’d catch the first flight out?—”
“Cassandra.”
My mouth slams shut.
“I wanted you to hear this from me,” Rosie says. “Actually, I wanted you to hear it from Gary, but, well, you know how men are.”
“Hear what?” I ask though I can tell by her tone that I don’t want to hear whatever’s about to come out of her mouth.
“Waterman Talent Agency no longer represents you. There will be a press release this evening, and you’ll get a copy in your email shortly. I… I didn’t want you to read about it online and be blindsided.”
“But I am blindsided.”
Not really.
“I’m sorry, Cassandra. I wish you the best.” Rosie sounds like she’s about to hang up.
“Wait!”
Silence.
“Let me just talk to him. I can fix it. I’m good now. Everything’s fine. It can all go back to normal.”
“I’m sorry. He’s in a meeting right now and?—”
“Come on, Rosie. I know that trick. He’s always in meetings when there’s a phone call.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again, softer this time.
“It’s her, isn’t it? The blonde I saw in the waiting room.”
“I’ll have your copy of the Contract Dissolution mailed to you. Should I send it to Montana?”
“What? No! Send it to New—don’t send it anywhere! Don’t send it,” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.
“Please take care, Cassandra.”
“I’d like an appointment. Tomorrow morning. Please.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Goodbye, Cassandra.” The line goes as dead as my career if I don’t get back to New York tonight.
I glance around the house again, wondering if this was the right decision. I had no idea how neglected the house and business were.
Because you wouldn’t open the letters!
Am I making a mistake by leaving everything in the hands of Lincoln Suco?
I look over at Dad’s chair and hear his voice as if he were here beside me. ‘Do what feels right, Casio.’
I can’t help but smile at the nickname.
When I was younger, I didn’t know what it meant. Then, the summer before eighth grade, Othello was assigned to our Summer Reading List. I remember seeing the name Cassio in big, bold letters and falling in love with the tragic character. It all made sense, finally, why Dad would liken my plight to his. Othello and Iago dismissed Cassio, while Dad and I had been dismissed by Mom.
Then, I’d made the mistake of telling him I finally understood the nickname he’d given me. How it resonated in my angsty teenage soul.
I watched his eyes glaze over at my retelling of the tragic story, then light up with his bright smile. ‘I don’t know about all that,’ he’d said. ‘I got the name from my favorite calculator watch.’ He’d held up his hand as if one was there now. ‘Casio C-701. Oh, that thing was a beauty. Just like you.’ Then he’d bopped me on the nose and gone back to watching TV.
The memory cuts through me, but still, I smile. Who needs sophisticated literature references when you have the unconditional love of a simple man?
I move to his chair, finally daring to run my fingers along its back. I know what I have to do. “I’ll be back to clean up this mess after I clean up my own. Promise.”
My suitcase lays open on the little circular kitchen table that was always full of snacks instead of dinnerware. I’d meant to jump in the shower as soon as I got here, to get out of these ripped and muddy clothes… before I’d gotten distracted by the gravity of being back here.
Still, in my ripped and muddy outfit, I shove the toiletry bag back in the suitcase and zip it.
“You know I’m the best client you’ve ever had,” I start rehearsing under my breath as I find the car keys. “Before me, you didn’t have one primetime show.”
By the time the bag is in the trunk, I’ve almost got my speech down. Start calm and sweet, remind him of why he fell in love with me in the first place, then hit him with the strong, fierce Cassandra Marie I’ve become. I slam the trunk and stalk toward the driver’s side door. The long scratch from my trek through the woods with Lincoln catches my attention. It’s much worse in the waning light. I can see where it cut through to the metal in some places.
Lincoln Suco strikes again!
As I open the door to get in, another feeling hits me. It’s still anger, yes, but directed at none other than me. I was the one who let my pride get in the way. I was the one who insisted on driving, though he really does know this area better than I do now.
And whose fault is that?
“ Shut up!” I tell myself and slam the door.
Why do I let him get to me so much?
You know why.
“I said shut up,” I seethe and throw the car in reverse.
A dark shadow passes across the rear camera.
I slam on the brakes.
Link
I bang on the trunk. “Hey, I’m walking here!” I yell in my best Pacino.
Cassie leaps out of the car and comes running at me like she wasn’t the one who just almost hit me with her fancy car.
“That wasn’t funny before, and it really isn’t funny now!” Her face is red, and she’s still wearing the same muddy clothes.
I shrug. “Funny to me.”
“What are you doing here? I almost hit you! Do you have a habit of sneaking around behind cars, trying to get run over? This some insurance scheme you’ve got going on?” Her cheeks are fire-red, and her voice is thick. I wonder if she’s been crying.
“Yeah, you got me!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I hide behind rental cars of people who already told me they didn’t get the insurance so that I can get run over and not get rich.”
Cassie’s chest is heaving, a fact I try hard not to notice. “What are you doing here?” This time, she asks more quietly.
“Taking out the trash.” I point to the two metal cans on the curb.
“What trash? The place looks like it hasn’t been touched since—” Her voice breaks, and she stops breathing.
“Mine.”
I wait several long seconds for that to sink in.
Cassie looks over to the curb, then the house, then me, then stares back at the curb. “You… you have trash at my dad’s house?”
“Close enough,” I say. “Come on, let’s get inside before a snake eats your toes.”
Cassie jumps as if one just has.
“You really need more sensible footwear if you’re gonna stay here.”
“I’m not,” she says.
I nod and keep ushering her inside. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Of course, she’s staying. This is her home as much as it is mine.
When Cassie’s seated on my couch, and I’m grabbing a warm one out of the fridge—and making a mental note to wring Eddie’s neck—she starts scanning the converted garage.
“Like what I’ve done with the place?”
“How long have you been squatting at my dad’s house?”
“Whoa,” I say, holding out my hands, one offering her a warm pop. “I’m not squatting. Robby and I turned it into a sweet bachelor pad a couple of years ago.”
“You moved in here to care for Dad while… while he… I…” The look on her face is enough to break a man’s heart. Good thing I don’t have one.
Still, I can’t lie to her either.
“Sort of. I mean, I did help take care of him… toward the end. But…” I sigh and bite the bullet. “Robby let me move in when I got in a bad scrape with some unsavory characters.”
“You’re an unsavory character.”
“I’m a choir boy compared to these guys. Drink up.”
She takes the pop but doesn’t open it. “So much has changed.”
“That's why you were peeling out of here?” I meant it as a tease, but the way her expression darkens is a stab to the heart… which I don’t have. “What? What happened?” I take her hand, but she pulls away.
“None of your concern,” she says coldly, setting the pop down on the coffee table.
I would put it back in the fridge, but what’s the point?
“Did you have a run-in with somebody? See someone you didn’t want to?”
The look on her face tells me if there’s a ‘yes’ to that question, I know who that someone would be.
Me.
I don’t know what’s happened between us. Cassie used to be a lively, sweet young woman who lit up the room. She couldn’t wait to come crashing through the door to tell Robby and me about her day. Everything she thought was written all over her face.
But now.
It’s this place.
Maybe it’s too soon for her to be back here. No wonder she never answered the letters. This is too much for her.
I should tell her it’s okay to go home.
This is her home ; I argue with myself.
Still, I open my mouth to tell her I understand, but she turns to me at that exact moment and says, “My agent dropped me.” The expression on her face is fragile. I’ve seen that expression before when we were kids, and she held back tears. “I can’t believe I said it out loud. Now it’s real. Now I’ll never get my career back.” Her voice shakes, and she wrings her hands as she looks down at the ground.
I step closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. Looking up at me, her eyes fill with tears, wavering at the edge, only her will keeping them from letting loose.
“Things can’t be that bad.” Being sensitive is not my strong suit.
“They are.” The tears break loose, then she crumbles against my chest and starts sobbing in earnest.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. What did you mean when you said they dropped you? Why would they do that? You’re a star, Cassie. They’d be fools to drop you. There must be some mistake.” I pat her back while she sobs.
“No mistake. I found out a few minutes ago. I knew it was coming. I could tell by the way Gary was too busy for me lately. And I should have known—I did know—when I saw that blonde…” Whatever comes after blonde is cried onto my shoulder.
“Did he say why? Surely there’s a way to fix it. They’d be stupid to lose you.” For some reason, a pit in my stomach knows exactly how that would feel, and I hate myself for it.
Get a grip, Link. Remember who this is.
Robby’s little girl. My best friend’s daughter. The one I watched blossom into a beautiful young woman and fly away to make her own life.
And that’s how it has to stay.
Again, I’m about to tell her to go home and fight for what she deserves. And again, as I’m mustering up the courage, she takes a deep, ragged breath and says, “Something’s going on, and I need to find out what it is.”
“What do you mean?”
Cassie sits up, a renewed determination steeling her features. “Something happened about nine months ago. Everything just dried up. No calls, no auditions, no scripts. Just poof.” She makes an explosive motion with her hands. “I did everything they needed me to. Even when I wanted to be back here to care for Dad, I stayed there and worked. I worked my butt off for them, and they just dropped me like I meant nothing!”
“All at once?”
Cassie nods and dabs her eyes and nose on her poofy shirt. I look around for a tissue or napkin, but there aren’t any.
“I know a guy who knows a guy,” I offer with a conspiratorial smile.
A smile brightens Cassie’s face, and I finally breathe. “I don’t think it’s come to that… yet.”
“Whatever you want. We can do it. Together.” I stand up and pace the garage. “I have contacts in New York. I can see if there’s any gossip going around. Find out the word on the street.”
I feel myself getting amped. As much as I want to help her get back to the life she wants, I also really want her to stay. It was so fun working with a partner again.
Love and Suco are back in business!
Then I remember where we are. Why we’re here instead of my old apartment. And which uninvited guests I had the other day. My ribs ache at the memory.
Don’t be selfish, Link. Not when it comes to her.
Robby would never forgive me if something happened to his little girl. And I would never forgive myself.
Let her go.
I turn to Cassie, my arms falling defeated to my side. “Maybe?—”
My phone rings, saving me from my stupid conscience.
“Quinn, what’s up?”
“Got a case! A real one. Good money.”
“How good?”
I can’t make out what she’s saying above all the noise in the background. I walk out toward the garage door but don’t dare open it. That thin sheet of metal is the only thing keeping the dangers of the outside world away from Cassie. Dangers I know all too well, brought here by my own actions.
“What?” I say, plugging my other ear, not that it’ll do any good against the noise on her end.
“Hold on.” The noise recedes, and Quinn’s voice becomes clear. “How about now?”
“Better. Where are you?”
“Speed dating,” Quinn groans, her tone telling me everything I need to know about how well it’s going. This woman has the worst luck with men of anyone I’ve ever met.
And I’ve met a lot of women who chose to date me!
“Come save me,” Quinn begs.
“How much?” I ask again.
“Link!”
“I’m already in my boxers,” I lie. Quinn knows how much I hate changing back into real clothes.
“The job pays $2k. I’ll pay you in pizza.”
“Two toppings.”
“Not if one of them is anchovies,” Quinn retorts.
It’s my turn to groan. “Fine, but I’m getting garlic knots.”
“Just hurry up and get here.”
“Send me the address.” I hang up the phone and grin in Cassie’s direction. “Wanna have one last adventure before returning to stuffy New York?”
I watch a lot of warring emotions cross Cassie’s face, and before the ones I don’t like can take hold, I open the garage door and head toward the car. “Come on. I’ll let you drive.”