Chapter 21
Luke
The tortoiseshell momma cat darts to a distant corner when I steal her babies. She’s in need of a good meal. Ten good meals. Which means there is a short supply of rodents under my house and in my yard. I consider this a positive.
The kittens are emaciated and weak. They aren’t getting enough nutrition from their mom. Since their situation is life or death, their wellbeing takes precedence. Momma can fend for herself for a while longer. At some point, I’ll catch her and reunite her with her babies, help her regain her strength so she can start feeding them again.
Cassie and I carefully re-home the kittens to a cardboard box that we soften up with a few old rags. She keeps an eye on them while I head to Walmart for cat food, kitty shampoo, eye droppers, and kitten formula. I pick up food and water dishes for momma in hopes that I’ll be able to coax her into the light.
When I return home, Cassie is still where I left her—on the couch pressed close to the cardboard box, staring down at the kittens dotingly. I drop my bags onto the kitchen island, grab a bowl, and warm up some formula. Cassie is ready for me when I join her on the couch. I hand her a towel, and she spreads it underneath the yellow tabby.
“They need to eat every two hours.” She looks at me apologetically. It’s four o’clock in the morning and I feel like a pile of cement slabs is trying to flatten me into a polka dot. I can’t stay up late like I used to.
I peer down into the box of mewing kittens. I’m the dad of two tortoiseshells and two yellow tabbies. Not exactly how I intended to fill up my empty bedrooms.
I scratch a yellow tabby behind the ears, and it hisses at me. “Hey. I’m saving you. Show some respect.”
“I can take the first shift if you want to take the six o’clock shift.” She positions the bowl of formula beside her on the couch cushion and fills the eye dropper. The kitten eagerly laps up the milk as she dispenses it drop by drop.
“This is only our first official date, and we already have babies.”
Cassie gives me the side-eye and shakes her head. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Oh. I’m not. Also, I smell like one-hundred-year-old filth. I’m going to pop into the shower and then try to catch some sleep. You can leave these little guys in the pantry while you sleep.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch here next to them.”
I grin at her.
“I don’t want them to get scared.”
“Okay. Let me get you an extra blanket.”
I find her a blanket and pillow, and then I almost fall asleep in the shower. By the time I make it to bed, I only have an hour until I need to feed the kittens. I make good use of it, my brain dropping into delta mode as soon as my head hits the pillow. When my alarm goes off at six, I tiptoe into the living room and resituate the box of kittens next to my recliner. I sink deep into the chair and feed them one by one while I linger in a half-awake state where dreams are still possible but not refreshing. After the feeding, I can’t make myself move from the chair. I recline it fully and sleep flat on my back.
Cassie covers eight o’clock and I take the ten o’clock shift. By then, we’re both in an exhausted version of “awake.” She makes coffee while the kittens lick up the last of their formula. I make sure they’re all snuggled comfortably in the pile of rags before heading into the kitchen.
“I’ll put food and water at the crawlspace entrance to try to coax the momma cat out,” I say.
“Until then they need to eat every two hours.”
“Even if the mom comes out, I’m not sure she’s in any shape to feed them. Crawlspace life must be tough.”
Cassie nods. “I can take them home with me if you’d rather.”
“No. You’re too busy. I got it.”
She smiles. I think I read satisfaction on her face, which satisfies me.
“I told Mom I’d be there for lunch today,” Cassie says after a long moment of enjoying our coffee in silence.
“The Sunday tradition is still alive?”
“Yep. Church and then Nana’s house for a pitch-in.”
“You’re missing church.”
“It’s okay. I’m calling this a mini vacation.”
“Did you tell them you were staying overnight at my house?”
She looks at me like I just uttered crazy-talk. “Are you kidding? They’d jump to all the wrong conclusions.”
I regard her with my head tilted to the left. Of course they would conclude that we’re sleeping together. But what else might they conclude? That we’re an item again? An official couple? Would that be so bad? I want to ask her, but I restrain myself. I’ve not only resolved to take it slow physically, but also in the emotions department. Obviously, I’m already all-in. Based on the last twenty-four hours, Cassie seems “in” but I suspect her commitment is still contingent on many factors, including continuing to rebuild the trust that I destroyed all those years ago.
Bottom line, I’m not going to push it.
“Do you want donuts?” I ask.
“No, I’m good. I think I’ll take a shower and then head to Nana’s. I need to stop somewhere and get potato salad or something. Nana will turn her nose up at it, but I don’t want to go empty-handed.”
If I went with her, she wouldn’t be empty-handed. But again too much too soon. I’ll reconnect with her family soon enough. I hope. And I don’t think it’s a false hope. This overnighter went better than I ever could have anticipated.
While Cassie is showering, I eat a piece of cold pizza, occasionally tossing bits of ham to Korg who acts like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Cassie returns looking fresh despite her lack of sleep. I always enjoyed her natural look the most. Still do.
She sets her bag on the recliner and bends over to dote on the kittens some more. “C’mere Cheez Whiz.”
“Cheez Whiz,” I say with a laugh. “We’re naming them already?”
Cassie shrugs. “Why not?”
While she continues assigning names, the doorbell rings. Korg goes into beast mode, running over to the front door and barking up a storm.
“Calm down, Korg,” I say as I follow him into the foyer.
“Is it Girl Scout cookie season?” Cassie asks.
I glance over my shoulder at her. “Maybe?”
Or it could be Amazon. That company is an over-achiever, delivering boxes the day of, even on a Sunday. I didn’t order anything, but it could be from work.
“Sit, boy,” I say to Korg. He wants to please me more than he wants to bite off the Amazon delivery guy’s leg. I’m able to open the door without any snarls or growls.
“Luke!”
Shock renders me mute.
“Oh, Luke. I’ve missed you.”
Macy crosses the threshold and plows into me, throwing her arms around me tightly. She’s put on twenty or so pounds, which are very visible in (you guessed it) a tube top, that displays her assets in a way that makes me uncomfortable, especially when those assets are pressed against my chest.
Before I can push her away, she anchors my cheeks with her hands and plants a juicy kiss on my lips. Panic sears my veins.
“Macy. No.” I extract myself from her lip fillers and push her away. Movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Cassie is standing in the foyer watching Macy’s love bomb.
“Cassie—”
“Cassie?” Macy says in a mean-girl tone. “Why’s she here?”
“We’re on a date.” I monitor Cassie’s expression as it goes from shocked, to hurt, to angry.
“Why? Doesn’t she know you’re a cheater?” Macy snarls.
“I wasn’t— I’m not— This isn’t what it looks like.”
Cassie’s nostrils flare.
“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Macy approaches Cassie with her finger pointed. “Luke and me have a history. You and him are nothing.”
“What kind of history?” Cassie says. Her tone is cool.
“The kind where you decorate nurseries and pick baby names.”
“No, not like that,” I holler over Macy’s fury.
Macy flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and glares at me. “Tell her the truth, Luke.”
I watch Cassie’s anger melt into resolve. “No. I think I’ve heard enough. Goodbye, Luke.” She whisks past me.
“Cassie, no.” I follow her onto the porch. “This isn’t what it looks like. I’m not with Macy. Cassie!”
She pauses in the front yard and spins around. “Then what is it, Luke? Tell me what it’s really like.”
“I paid for her kid’s ear tubes. I fixed her transmission.”
Cassie narrows her eyes at me.
“Macy and I had a thing in L.A. but it’s over. I’ve been helping her out with—”
“Is that why she kissed you?”
“I don’t know why she kissed me.” I rush toward Cassie, but she backs away.
Macy comes barreling toward us both. “He kissed me because he loves me!”
I catch Macy before she attacks Cassie. Macy takes the opportunity to grab my neck and pull me down for another kiss.
“Get off me,” I sputter as I push her away.
“It’s over, Luke. This time forever!” Cassie doesn’t look at me, just walks swiftly and purposefully to her SUV.
I follow her and Korg follows me, jumping excitedly. He thinks we’re playing. “Down, Korg!”
Convinced I’m trying to stifle him, Korg runs over to Cassie and begs for pets until her leg disappears into the car and the door shuts. Undeterred, he runs back to me and hops around in a happy dance, the antithesis of my current emotional state.
After Cassie’s car disappears down the road, I spin around and rage at Macy with a string of expletives fit for a Navy ship’s mess hall. She looks at me like I’m a rotting corpse and backs into the house. I follow her.
“What makes you think you can barge into my house and kiss me without permission!?”
Macy is still retreating. She bumps into the bottom stair and teeters on her feet before plopping onto the third step.
“I was trying to smooth things over with Cassie and now she thinks I’m cheating on her!”
Macy leans over on her knees and covers her face. Soft whimpers filter through the gaps in her fingers.
I’m being a complete tool. I’m angry, but I don’t have to go into beast mode. Calm down, Luke. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment. Korg pants at my feet. “Why did you come here?” I say as calmly as possible.
Macy lowers her hands. “I can’t—L.A. is too—” A sob interrupts each sentence.
“I’m sorry I cussed you out. I’m just—You came at a really bad time. And we’re not a couple anymore. Why did you think you could kiss me and threaten my—?”
“Threaten who? Your girlfriend?” Macy spits out.
“No, she’s not my girlfriend. You know who Cassie is. She’s the reason I moved to L.A.”
“And she’s the reason you moved back here.” Her tone is mocking.
I feel anger boil in my gut again, but I tame my tongue. “You barged into my house, kissed me, tried to pick a girl fight, and chased away my date.”
Macy gasps. Tears spurt from her eyes. She covers her face again.
“Why does that upset you?” My words are clipped. I’m about over the drama act. Macy is a master at playing the victim.
“I thought maybe we could work things out,” she says between sobs. “You’ve been so nice, and I’ve had time to think.”
“Where’s Gabe?”
“He’s in the car.”
“You left him in the car?”
“It’s not that hot.”
I run to her Ford Focus. I guess she got the transmission fixed. Wait. Was the transmission ever broken? Bags, boxes, and pillows are crammed into the front seat. Gabe sits in his car seat in the back next to more bags and suitcases. What exactly did Macy have planned driving across country with her entire life stuffed inside a compact car?
When I start fiddling with Gabe’s harness, his lower lip trembles and then he wails. “Me too, bro.” I pull him out of the seat and rest him on my hip.
When we re-enter the house, Macy is slumped on the stairs. I set Gabe down and he runs over to her. He’s still crying, but she doesn’t move to comfort him. My heart aches for the kid, so I go sit by Macy and pull him onto my lap.
“Your car is full of your stuff,” I say.
Macy nods. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“Your transmission was never broken, was it?”
She shakes her head. “I used some of the money to get out of my lease and some to drive across country.”
“I bet that was fun.” Gabe has ceased crying, but his muscles are tense. Little does he know I’m the guy who’s been financially supporting him. Maybe someday his mom will fill him in.
“The drive sucked. But I couldn’t stay in L.A. The guys there are self-centered jerks, the rent is too high, and the ocean’s bout to freeze my bleep> off.” I cover Gabe’s ears as she curses.
“You never swam in the ocean.”
“Because it’s freakin’ cold. I need a place with warm water and a future.”
“I’m not it.” There’s no point beating around the bush. Under no circumstances is Macy staying at my house or anywhere within a fifty-mile radius.
She sniffs. “You’ve taken care of me—Of us...” She clasps Gabe under the armpits and shifts him to her lap. “You’ve been so generous. I just thought...”
“I’m in love with Cassie.” The sentence flows so naturally—truth from my innermost being, one that has been anchored there for years.
Macy rolls her eyes. “The Cassie that just walked out on you and said she wants nothing to do with you?”
“You had a little something to do with that.”
Feeling more comfortable with his mom, Gabe starts sucking his fingers and chattering nonsense words, somehow combining the two in a feat only a toddler can pull off.
She buries her face in Gabe’s curly, blond hair. “This all made more sense in my head.”
I know what needs to be done. I have to cut her off. Now. “I can’t keep giving you money.”
Panic is visible in Macy’s muscles and in her face as she gapes at me. “I have no place to live. No job. We can’t sleep in the car.”
“I’ll wire fifteen thousand into your account so you can get back on your feet.”
“This house is huge. We’d only take up one room. We’d leave you alone. I could find a job in Charleston.”
“Absolutely not.”
Macy’s brow pinches in anger. “I never should have wasted my time on you, Luke Curtis. Every moment of every day that I spent with you was the definition of horror.”
I slap my hands to my knees and stand. “Okay, then. Out.” I point to the door.
Macy straightens her spine. “Twenty thousand.”
“Get out of my house or you get nothing. I’m only doing this for Gabe. Find a hotel tonight. Think about what you want to do, where you want to go.”
Gabe reaches for me, his fingers wet with slobber.
“Does that sound like a workable plan?”
She sets her jaw, nods.
I grab Gabe from Macy’s lap and give him a squeeze. Tears rim my eyes. “You be good.” I hug him again and then hand him back to his mom. “I’ll transfer the money. You can show yourself out.”
I close my banking app. Fifteen thousand dollars to get Macy the heck out of my life. Is it too late, though? That’s the question that’s eating me.
My eyes keep flitting over to my phone. Is Cassie at Nana’s now? Will she answer her phone if I call her, or will she ghost me? Is she as upset as I am?
I stand and shove the phone into my back pocket. Before transferring the money, I took a shower and got dressed. I decided maybe I’ll go somewhere today. To Nana’s? Or maybe Cassie and I will go for coffee and talk things out.
I can’t surprise her at Nana’s. That would be too messy. She probably hasn’t told them about me. Now isn’t the time. I’ll invite her to coffee, but first I need a bagel. Because I’m hungry. Yeah. That’s why I feel like I want to double over. Couldn’t have anything to do with Cassie walking away from me saying it’s over. Forever.
The bagels are in the fridge along with the butter. I jerk the door harder than necessary causing the condiments to clink and rattle against each other. My stomach can’t handle anything sweet, sour, or spicy. Plain butter on a plain bagel it is.
While I’m waiting for the bagel to toast, I get up the nerve to text Cassie.
I’m sorry about this morning. That was a mix up. Macy and I aren’t together. Can we talk about this over coffee?
The bagel pops up. I slather butter onto each side, slap them together, and then take a bite. I watch my phone. Wait for a response. Nothing.
I toss my phone onto the counter, lean against the island. As I’m chewing, movement catches my eye. I turn my head in time to watch the cabinet door open on its own. A fire wells in my belly and its flames shoot through my arms.
I set my jaw and spin toward the back door. Moments later, I’m back from the shed with a sledgehammer. Never mind the contents of the cabinet. I rear back with the hammer and give the old 1980s oak a vicious pounding, one strike after another. Splinters fly in all directions, ceramic shatters, hinges crack as they pull from their moorings. I pound until the entire cabinet falls from the wall and crashes to the floor, and then I pound on it some more.
“Son. Stop,” I hear behind me.
I keep smashing, this time at the composite countertop. It cracks under the force of my hammer. I spare no muscle as I plot the destruction of my entire kitchen.
“Son!”
I spin around. “What!”
My mom stands in the doorway with a stricken look on her face. “That won’t bring her back.”
“I don’t want Macy back. I want her out of my...” I explode into another string of expletives.
“I mean Cassie. Smashing up your kitchen won’t bring her back.”
“I’m not trying to bring either of them back. I’m trying to get Betsy the heck out of my life!”
Mom looks confused. “Who’s Betsy?”
“The ghost that’s haunting my cabinet!”
“Oh. No. Son, are you on something?”
“I’m cleansing my kitchen! Do you have any sage?” I start smashing the counters some more.
“O...k...,” I hear mom say between loud clunks and thuds. She walks around the island shielding her eyes. “I think she loves you.”
Clunk! Bam!
I tighten the grip on the handle ready to go for another swing.
“I said, I think she loves you!” Mom yells.
Her words deflate my muscles. My strength wanes, and I remember I barely slept last night. “Betsy doesn’t love me. She loves Joey.”
“I’m talking about Cassie.”
I drop the sledgehammer and rest my forearm on the beat-up countertop. An ache takes over my body, every limb affected, my chest taking the brunt of it. A deep, gnawing pain. I drop my head to my forearm and shroud my vision in darkness. “I can’t lose her.” The words catch in my throat. I draw in a ragged breath and let it go in a slow exhalation.
My mom rests her hand on my back. “I know.”
“What do I do?”
She doesn’t answer right away, as stumped as I am, I guess. “You wait,” she says.
I have waited. For years. “She’s not answering my texts.”
“How many times did you text her?”
“Once.”
Mom chuckles. “Give her time. You two have a lot of baggage to unpack.”
“We were unpacking it.”
“I saw that.”
I stand and lean against the island again, rubbing my face. It’s covered in dust. Eye protection would have been wise. “Macy showed up today. Kissed me. Cassie thinks I’m a cheater. I guess Macy thought we were still a thing. She and I were never right for each other. We were a mess.”
Mom leans against the island next to me and folds her arms. “But when she cheated on you, it taught you something.”
“Yeah. Never date another woman from L.A.”
“No. It showed you the harm you were causing other women when you cheated on them.”
I’ve already figured this life lesson out myself, but somehow, hearing it from my mom gives it more impact. You reap what you sow. What goes around comes around. Karma. They all apply. I just wonder how long it will be until I’ve officially paid my dues.
“It also made you want to change and chase after the woman you love,” Mom continues. “Your drunk self didn’t need to tell me you came here for Cassie. I already knew that was the reason.”
“And yet you still followed me.”
She rests her hand on my elbow and looks up at me. “I’ve always believed in you. I knew if you wanted Cassie, you’d find a way.”
“You make me sound manipulative.”
“You have been at times.”
I look down at my feet. “Maybe that’s another habit of mine that needs tossed into the ocean.”
“You can be determined without being manipulative. I think you’re starting to find the right balance.”
I rest my hand on Mom’s.
“Text her again. If she doesn’t respond, go after her.”
As if in response, my phone buzzes. My anticipation drops when I see it’s from Macy. “Great.”
Hey Luke. Thanks for the money. I’ll use it wisely. Gabe thanks you too. Say thanks to your mom for me too. Okay. That’s it. I’ll always love you a little bit. Bye.
I shoot Mom a confused look. “Macy says thank you.”
“Oh. I talked to her in the driveway. I heard you cursing from my living room, and I went out to see what was going on.”
“I was that loud?”
“Yes.”
I bite my lip.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the neighbors are at church. Or they need to go to church and repent after hearing your tirade.”
I was so livid I can’t even remember what I said. It was enough to make Macy cry. Not one of my best looks either. “What did you say to Macy?”
“She did most of the talking. She loosely filled me in on the details.”
“Such as?”
“Such as how generous you’ve been to take care of her and her son for the last several months.”
I nod.
“But she didn’t tell me how Betsy factors into this equation.”
“Betsy is my ghost. She’s the one opening the cabinet door. Or was opening it. I guess I solved that problem.”
We ponder my wreckage for a moment. Peaks and valleys of splintered wood litter the floor, just waiting to steal a foot or slice someone’s leg open. Sharp pieces of broken ceramic lie about to finish the job.
“You didn’t think maybe you should have emptied the cabinets first?”
I shrug. “I was in a hurry.”
“What do you supposed Betsy will do now that her cabinet is gone?”
Shoot. I hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think she’s mad?”
“Probably.”
“Great.”
“Yeah. You’re on your own with her, son. I don’t do ghosts.”
“Thanks.”
Mom raises to her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m in the guest house if you need me.”
I reach around her tiny waist and give her a quick hug. “This was all going to be demoed in a couple weeks anyway.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
“You’re not going to help me clean it up?”
She flashes me a smile that says “no” and then she picks her way through the damage and heads toward the back door.
“By the way,” I say, “I have kittens.”
“You know I hate pets.”
“They’re cute.”
“I’m sure they are, but I’m also sure I’m probably allergic. Goodbye, son.”
The back door slams shut. I’m alone again. Just me, the sledgehammer, and piles of weaponized wood.
I made a mess. Now I gotta figure out how to clean it up.