Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-nine
ISAIAH
“I think I’ve got the hang of it.” I scoop the meatball mix a little more proudly than I should and drop a ball onto the tray, using a tablespoon to get the circumference correct.
Like when I’d made the appetizer to bring to her aunt and uncle’s house, Cassidy has been nothing less than encouraging. But when I saw my first attempts, some rolled too big and others too small, I threw the lumpy spheres back into the mixing bowl and started over again.
You’d think making meatballs was a no-brainer, but according to Cassidy, size matters.
Ha-Ha.
“I’m proud of you, and I’m sure they’ll turn out great.” Cassidy’s sitting at the kitchen table feeding Aria her breakfast.
Gracyn caught me shirtless in the laundry, the victim of another spit up after Aria had her morning bottle. Cassidy’s sister suggested adding the rice cereal to Aria’s bottle. I checked with the doctor to make sure it was okay. The guy took the recommendation one step further, mentioning Aria is old enough to start solid food.
My talent on stage, however, far exceeds my ability to get mushy cereal into Aria’s mouth without it running down her chin. As it is with all things food, Cassidy is a pro. Feeding the baby takes her half the time and, when she does it, Aria and I don’t need a bath afterwards.
I haven’t thrown in the towel entirely. Practice makes perfect and all. I also figure Aria is here for the long haul.
With every spoonful of cereal Aria eats, Cass hums Mmm . The sound is PG and it shouldn’t go straight to my dick, but boy does it.
Fighting against the need to have Cassidy back in my arms, I’ve taken what Gatlin said about being patient to heart. It worked by the end of the first week of January, and now I get to steal kisses from her when no one is watching.
It’s bound to work again.
It’s got to work again soon or I’m shit out of luck with February on the horizon.
During my normal check-in with my grief counselor earlier this week, I opened up about Cassidy and how good things are for the three of us. On normal days, we have a dynamic. I make the coffee. Cassidy comes down from her room—a place I haven’t slept in weeks—and I write while she preps whatever is on the daily menu. We have a solid hour before the baby monitor flashes red. Being quiet with her is consistently my favorite time of the day; watching her putter, mixing and chopping, and smelling whatever she’s baked coming fresh out of the oven.
After Aria’s diaper change this morning, I brought Aria down for her breakfast. She fussed, lunging for the most important woman in our lives. Cassidy had the ingredients for cocktail meatballs and dirty hands. She could only appease Aria with a peck on the top of her head. Bouncing Aria on my hip, I plucked a clean rubber spatula from a drawer for the baby to gnaw on until I had her cereal ready.
“Want to trade places?” I asked.
“You want these meatballs marinated and ready for when your company arrives?” She dug her hands into the bowl, kneading the mixture.
“Yeah, but I also sorta wanted to learn to do it myself… Oof! ” Still working on fine motor skills, Aria thwacked me in the face.
Cassidy wiped the slobber from my cheek with a dish towel, scrubbed her hands, and held her palms up. The spatula clattered on the floor and Aria went right to her.
It’s been this way since they warmed up to each other. Aria prefers Cassidy over me. Hell, if I were a baby I would too, so no beef there. But for Cassidy, knowing Aria isn’t wary of her, is one less struggle.
I also saw Rhiannon, who had been photographing a banquet hall event, in the winery parking lot on my way back from a studio session at Cris’s. She let me know Cassidy is still on the fence about how long our relationship can last. I let Rhiannon know I’m nowhere ready to give up.
Cassidy puts the spoon in Aria’s bowl and gestures in ASL, saying that Aria is all done. Aria’s feet kick in her high chair. She produces a hair-raising scream as Cassidy uses her bib to wipe her face.
“Did she not sleep well?” Cassidy tries to soothe the baby by handing her the spoon to play with.
“Like a champ. According to Chesney’s nanny. She napped for an extra long time yesterday, too.”
“I wonder if she’s growing. Is it okay if I make more for her to eat?” Cassidy has to talk over Aria’s screech.
Discontented, the baby’s already thrown the spoon and is slamming her hands down on the tray table.
I agree Cassidy can make extra, but something about it feels weird. Cass spends as much time with Aria as Chesney’s nanny does. She shouldn’t have to seek permission.
Koi-mouthed, Aria lunges at the next spoonful. And the next. And the next. In between she fusses, patting the tray as if to say, “Hurry up!”
“I think that was it. She’s extra hungry.” Cassidy giggles as Aria chomps down on the spoon.
“I’m glad you’re here to help me figure it out. I’d have probably picked her up.” Since that’s my MO.
Plunking the last meatball on the tray, I turn to wash up and hear a commotion in the foyer.
I look at Cassidy with a raised brow. Her expression mirrors mine.
“Let me find Isaiah.” We hear Vespa say.
My assistant skids to a halt in the doorway. She’s still flushed and sweaty from her workout. Something I know because it’s the only time Vespa puts down her phones.
Resembling a deer in headlights, Vespa mouths a silent, “I didn’t know!”
Multiple sets of footfalls follow, and Will and Ben appear behind her.
“Will, I didn’t expect you for another two hours.” I wipe the remaining water droplets off on my jeans and accept his outstretched hand.
“With so much to cover, I convinced Ben to catch an earlier flight.” Will flashes gleaming teeth. “We hoped to do more than hear about the songs you’ve been working on before heading back tonight.”
“Good,” I say, though it’s anything but.
“Nice to see you again, Isaiah.” Ben’s handshake is firm.
Attempting not to panic, my gaze lands on Cassidy, who is trying to blend into the woodwork. Aria’s gurgling stops my girls from going unnoticed.
“And who is this?” Ben asks, grinning at the baby.
Unready to explain, I open my mouth and clop it closed.
“During his stay, Miss Cavanaugh has been teaching Isaiah to cook.” Vespa supplies, restarting my heart. Her usual teeth-gritting tenseness is replaced with sincerity.
She’s trying to fix this. I need to play along.
“It’s a… yeah, a perk of the B&B. I’m enjoying it.”
Will and Ben greet Cassidy politely.
Cassidy catches on quickly. She has the same graciousness as her aunt, welcoming people into her home. “I normally set out a spread of canapés late afternoon. Isaiah wanted to surprise y’all by preparing the hors d’oeuvres himself. You showed up at the right time. He’s just finished up.”
“I still need to bake them and make the marinade.” Leaving a messy kitchen for Cassidy to clean up wasn’t my intent.
“Don’t worry about that nonsense.” She sounds utterly nonplussed and professional. “Your culinary skills are coming along nicely, and you have company to attend to.”
“Cassidy, Miss Cavanaugh, is an accomplished chef.” I can’t help paying her a compliment.
She shakes her head. “He’s exaggerating. I’ve only worked here at Kingsbrier and I enjoy it very much… and giving the lessons as well.”
“My fiancée would go nuts for an inn like this. The winery. The accommodations. Learning how to cook,” Will booms like he’s selling the place.
I somehow hold in my snort.
It’s humorous once you’ve gained clarity and taken a step back from where you were. Will dyes his brown hair to hide the fact that his fiancée is half his age. She’s also as vain as they come. Her insistence Will go incommunicado on their honeymoon is because she needs his constant undivided attention.
“It’s a shame you can’t join Isaiah on tour, Miss Cavanaugh. I haven’t seen him looking this healthy since…” Will pauses, thinking better of mentioning Kylie’s accident. The last time I saw him with any regularity. “Well, maybe ever. Whatever you are feeding him, he looks great.”
Vespa was correct when she mentioned I have to maintain my fitness regimen to stop from gaining weight from Cassidy’s cooking. Although I kept my comments to myself when my assistant went a little crazy online shopping for gym clothes for herself. I swear when Cassidy sets out the afternoon appetizers, she’s melting Vespa’s icy heart one steaming fondue pot at time.
“Your daughter is delightful. Beautiful,” Ben adds, selling himself. “She favors her mother.”
Ben’s closer to my age. Polished blond hair, wears shiny suits, and gives never-ending sleek compliments. He’s not my favorite person and not anyone I actively avoid. I understand why Will’s management company brought him on. He was good to Kylie.
Aria, back to using the cereal spoon as a teether, smiles.
I’m sure if I put Aria’s baby pictures next to Kylie’s the resemblance would be uncanny. The baby’s pajamas cover a mole Aria has in almost the same spot as where Kylie had one below her neck. Other than blonde hair, Aria doesn’t look a thing like Cassidy. They don’t have the same color eyes or similar noses. It’s like saying Chesney and Aria look alike because Chesney drools whenever Gatlin slips his daughter a lollipop on the sly.
How do Will and Ben not see what’s right in front of their faces?
“My dau—” Cassidy swallows the question before it slips out.
“Yes! She certainly does,” Vespa shouts her agreement with Ben.
“ Mmm. ” Aria holds the spoon out to Cassidy. “ Mmm… Mmm. ”
“You look like your mommy, don’t you?” Vespa’s coo sends shivers up my spine.
Cassidy is as concerned about my assistant’ baiting. “I—Leave the dishes, Isaiah. I’m taking the baby to, erm , daycare. Then I’ll come back to clean up and fix lunch. Would you like a basket sent over to the studio?”
“Monty will drive her.” I rolled.
The extra time we thought we had was plenty for Monty to bring Aria over to Gatlin and Bellamy’s, anyway. Behind me, Vespa makes a sound between a groan and a squeak.
“If that’s okay with you?” Crap. I almost blew it.
Ben doesn’t give Cassidy the floor to respond.
“A working lunch is perfect. It allows us to discuss Sweet Caroline’s. Ballantine’s talent manager contacted Will. We have dates to add to your calendar.” He slaps me on the back.
This is one occasion I’m thankful Ben’s a brown-noser.