Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“So she’s not in labor?” Cassie clarified.
Of all the moments that her emotionally distant mother could have chosen to call, of course it had to be while Cassie was dry humping a lumberjack next to a tiger enclosure.
“No, darling. Samantha’s fine. She’s carrying so beautifully, even at this advanced stage. Her ankles have barely swelled up at all.”
“Glad to hear it,” Cassie said. Had she called just to sing her sister’s praises? That was what every major holiday was for.
“The reason I’m calling, dear, is Mrs. Hightower. Do you remember her? We went to one of their Christmas parties in Towson. Dreadful affair.”
“I’m not sure.”
Noah leaned forward to kiss her neck, and she almost dropped the phone. Maybe she should. Her legs tightened around him.
“Well, she has a new dog, and he’s exhibiting some concerning symptoms,” her mom said. “She believes he has anxiety and chronic pain.”
Cassie fought the urge to throw her phone.
Her mother was calling for a favor. As always.
To her, Cassie was nothing but a vending machine of good deeds.
But she shouldn’t be surprised. She had enabled this behavior for her entire life because she was so afraid of falling out of her parents’ favor.
At least that’s what her therapist said.
“Okay, well, what does their current veterinarian say?”
Noah stopped kissing her neck and looked concerned.
“They don’t have one yet,” her mother said. “They just picked him up from the breeder last weekend.”
Cassie sighed. She was morally obligated to help, especially if the dog really was in pain.
“What kind of dog? Was there an accident that preceded the pain?”
Maybe she could see them if they came down to Aster Hollow. But her patience was growing thin, and her clinic wasn’t properly set up yet. The meds hadn’t even arrived.
“It’s a Great Dane named Remington. He’s just a puppy. You should see his paws—they’re gigantic. She sent me a picture.”
“Okay, well, wobbler syndrome is a pretty common and painful condition for Great Danes. What makes her think he’s in pain?”
“She said he just follows her around and sleeps all day.”
“But no panting, trembling, snapping at her? Will he take the stairs?”
“Well, I didn’t take a whole medical history, darling. Listen, she asked ChatGPT, so we already know what medication he needs. Do you have something to write it down?”
“What the fuck?” she mouthed at no one. She unwound her legs from Noah’s middle and hopped down.
“I can’t diagnose an animal from a secondhand account. I need to examine him.”
Noah looked at her with narrowed eyes. She walked a few feet away and stared at the deer in their pen.
“Oh, well, she could just come over to the house,” her mother said.
Cassie buried her hand in her hair and walked a few feet away. Of course her mother couldn’t be bothered to remember where she was. “I’m not at the house, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Do you have a pen, Alexandra? The pharmacy closes at nine. You’d better hurry.”
Un-fucking-believable. Her hand balled into a fist. How much longer was she going to allow this to happen? To drop everything and bend over backward for people who didn’t even care about her?
Her mother plowed on. “So for the anxiety, there’s Valium, and then something called bu—uh, bu-pre-nor-phine for the pain. That’s V-A-L—”
“No.”
Noah’s head snapped up.
The word came out without her conscious permission.
Had she ever told her mother no before? Her heart was racing, and the dam that she had carefully reinforced over decades to contain her emotions burst. For so many years, she believed that being the good girl—the calm, reliable one—would make them love her.
But she could never make them love her.
Clank. That was almost certainly the sound of a martini glass hitting a table on the other end of the line.
Cassie’s heart rate tripled.
“What did you say to me?” Her mother’s voice slurred a little.
“I—” She was about to take it back. But she paused and looked at Noah. He nodded encouragingly at her.
“Mom. Those are two controlled substances conveniently needed for a human-sized dog requiring a human-sized dose. I can’t prescribe them for a patient I haven’t even seen. I could lose my license. And opioids aren’t even proven to be effective in—”
“So, what, you’re not going to write the prescriptions? You’re just going to leave Remington in crippling pain?” Her mother was using a tone that she usually reserved for a waiter who had brought the wrong bottle of wine.
Cassie’s hand balled into a fist. “If they want a diagnosis, I need to see them in person. Can they come to Aster Hollow? The clinic’s not fully set up yet, but I have enough equipment to see them.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “What are you doing in Aster Hollow?”
“That’s where I live. Did you not see my message with my new address in the group chat? I bought a house.”
Her mother hadn’t responded to the message. But then again, she almost never did, unless something happened that she could brag to her friends about. And your divorced adopted daughter buying a house in the middle of nowhere did not meet the qualifications.
Her dad, on the other hand, had responded with one of his classic voice-to-text mishaps.
Dad: Why ass turd hollow wait no stupid phone go back. Ass turd hollow. No, not ass turd. Ask turd. Don’t send.
“Why did you move there, of all places?” her mother asked.
Oh shit. She couldn’t stop the stream that was about to come out of her mouth.
“You know why. Because it’s where my birth mother grew up. And because I have two half sisters here.”
“Who told you?” Her mother’s voice was icy, and she shivered despite the crippling heat.
“I hired a private investigator. He found them.”
“And your birth mother?”
“She’s gone. Breast cancer. Which would have been really valuable familial medical history to know. But you never told me anything about her.”
“We had a closed adoption for a reason, Alexandra.”
“Did she ever try to reach out to me?”
There was a pause. “I don’t remember.”
It felt like a lie.
The maelstrom of feelings that had been swirling ominously in her was reaching a fever pitch.
“Listen. I love you guys. I’m very grateful for the life you gave me and all the help you sent when everything was falling apart.
But I don’t think you love me. Not the way a parent should love a child.
You love what I can do for you—running endless errands, having someone smooth over arguments between you and Dad, favors for your friends.
But you’ve never loved me. So I’m going to be taking some space.
Please have Ethan reach out to me when Sammy goes into labor. ”
“Alexandra—”
“Oh, one more thing. It’s Cassiopeia now.”
She ended the call and threw her phone with a strangled yell. It hit the gravel path and landed face down.
Adrenaline surged through her veins.
“I just yelled at my mom,” she said to Noah.
“I heard.”
“I told her ‘no.’”
“You did,” he said, looking almost amused.
“I’ve never done that before.”
“Really?”
“I think I might’ve just ruined everything.”
“You didn’t. I only heard half the conversation, and even I gathered that you only said no to an obvious drug-seeker with a probably AI-generated dog. It’s okay to say no, Cassie.”
She flattened a palm against her chest. Her heart was still galloping like she was trying to escape a murderer. “Then why does it feel so awful?”
He put his hand over hers, and the dread lessened just a little.
“Boundaries are tough. But you’re doing the right thing. You don’t need to fulfill her crazy-ass requests. You have your own life, and your own half sisters, and your own group of people who care about you.”
“Like my smokin’ hot pain in the ass of a neighbor?”
“Definitely. It’s about time you admitted it.” He smiled, then glanced at his smartwatch and frowned. “Shit. One of my tenants has a toilet problem. I have to go.”
“I’m going to do some rounds on the animals anyway. Take my mind off the catastrophe I just created.”
“You’ve got this. See you.” He shot her a slow smile, then disappeared around a corner.
She was in deep shit. And it was her own fault.