by Meg Farrell
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing. You just...you should get dressed.”
“Silly.” He steps toward me, kisses the tip of my nose, and returns to the sink to brush his teeth.
I wrap a towel around my body and step out. Joining him at the sink, I stare at our reflection in the mirror. Content doesn’t begin to describe this feeling. Recalling the tirades of the Dragon Lady, I find that I don’t care about propriety. Being with Cade is right. That’s all I need to know.
a
When we’ve finished our morning routine, we decide to find breakfast. So, we head back to the cafe that was the scene of our big talk. While I’m shoveling in some eggs and bacon, Cade looks pensive. I stop chewing and drink my coffee.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Clarity finds his expression. “I’m perfect. Absolutely perfect. I do have something I need to tell you, though.”
I turn to look at him sideways, and ask the most ridiculous thing I can think of, “You aren’t married, are you?”
His laugh is a huge belly laugh. “God, no. I’ve waited a lifetime to find someone like you. No one ever came close. No. It’s about New Orleans.”
“Okay. What could you possibly have to tell me about New Orleans?”
“I live here.”
“What? You live here?” I remember he was only visiting Irma and his grandfather, but I never thought to ask where he called home.
“It’s one of the reasons I was so excited and made such an effort to find you here. It felt like God was hanging one more sign pointing to you. You ran from your home to mine.” He is smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“That’s...that’s...um...” I am at a loss for words.
“Weird, right?”
“Yeah, but kind of great at the same time.” I smile.
“After we finish breakfast, I’d like to show you my house.”
“Yes! Let’s go now!”
We finish in record time and pay the check. He’d left his truck parked near the club where he stalked me. I’m still disturbed by that whole story, but I’m trying to understand what would drive someone to that.
Me. I drove him to it.
We make quick work of the walk and soon we’re on our way. I can’t keep up with all the twists and turns, but on the outskirts of the city, we pull into a neighborhood that seems as ancient as New Orleans itself. The house is beautiful. We are greeted by a wide porch with steps and floorboards painted a dark, shiny green. Flowerbeds full of azaleas are on either side of the steps. They span the width of the house. The railing is the same color as the rest of the house, a titanium white. Brighter than any white I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t know what Cade had been through in the last few months, visiting and helping his grandparents, I would think he had just had it painted.
He leads me up the stairs and grins like a little boy at an amusement park. When up on the porch, I turn to the right and notice a dark green porch swing. I smile thinking of the similarities of his home and his grandparents’ house in Bell Hills. He notices the direction I’m looking and says, “I know.” He unlocks the door and leads me into the house. It looks newly remodeled. Like new construction. Modern updates everywhere. He doesn’t lead me around; he lets me explore on my own. I walk every room on the first floor. The kitchen is massive. In a house this size, and this old, he must have sacrificed another room to make the kitchen this big. I find Cade standing in the foyer, patiently waiting for my exploration to bring me back to him.
“Who’s that kitchen for? You don’t cook.”
“Assumptions, Rhae,” he corrects.
“You’re right. I mean, wow, you use that kitchen? Sure you didn’t build it, so you could get a woman to make you sammiches?”
“I do, actually. That is all for me. I love to cook. Grandma won’t let me when I’m at her house. Come on, let me show you the upstairs.”
He leads me to the stairs and I look around at all four bedrooms on the second floor. They are fantastic rooms. He has paid attention to the details in two of them. The other two are plain. No pictures, no decor, no colors. The rooms contain only a bed with white linens.
“This house is so much more than I imagined for you, no offense.”
“None taken. I did all the work myself. It was abandoned after Katrina. I bought it from the bank. I always wanted to have a family. I built a place for one in the hopes that one day, I would have one.”
His idea of having a family gives me pause. “Living on that ‘if you build it’ philosophy?” I ask.
“Maybe. You’re here now, and that’s a start.”
I smile. “What are you saying?”
He takes both of my hands and moves closer to me. “I want you to live here with me. We can talk about marriage and family and all of that later. Just come to New Orleans and live with me.”
My heart is racing. I should say no. This is wrong. I have plans. I was going to travel. Experience life. I can’t do that if I jump right into living with him. On the other hand, we’ve been through so much. I mean, we don’t even sleep when we’re apart. I need him. He seems to need me. Before I can finish all the lists of reasons I shouldn’t do this, I begin to slowly nod. “Yes.” I said it because I shouldn’t do this. Everything about it is too fast. I don’t know if he’ll run off on me again. I don’t know anything. Maybe that’s why I said yes. Embracing the unknown.
“Yes? You will?” His face is lit up like a Christmas tree.
I laugh. “Yes.”
He wraps me in a crushing hug and kisses me.
“Cade. Can’t breathe. Hang on, I need to check out of the hotel.”
“Now? You’ll stay now?”
“I will. Wherever you are is my home,” I say simply.
Cade practically tackles me. He is all hands, and his mouth is everywhere. He leads me into the master bedroom and we spend the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon worshipping each other in his luxury king-sized bed.
That evening we drive over to the hotel to retrieve my belongings and pay the bill. The desk clerk looks disappointed when Cade informs her I am checking out. The death stare I level at her keeps her from interacting with him any more than absolutely necessary.
For a moment, I consider that I don’t want this to be our life. Girls constantly noticing him and throwing flirtatious smiles and gestures his way. I’m going to end up being that jealous woman and kicking somebody’s ass. Ryan’s affair has shaken my ability to trust.
Then it occurs to me that Cade doesn’t return any of their smiles or gestures. He doesn’t notice them. I also notice he can’t go a few minutes without touching me in some way. Brushing his hand across my hand, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, an arm around my waist as we walk into a building or out to the car, or holding my hand everywhere we go. It’s like he’s afraid I’ll run.
We step out on to Dauphine as we leave the hotel. I pull his arm back as he’s holding my hand again. He comes to a stop and turns to face me. “You okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I reassure him.
“I know.”
“You can let go of me and I’ll still be right here. There’s no need to keep a hand on me at all times. In fact, you might drive me crazy after a few days of that,” I joke.
He smiles. “I just can’t help but think this is a dream. That if I let you go, I’ll wake up and this won’t be happening at all. I’ll try to give you a little space.”
“You think I’m a dream?” I ask, incredulous.
“Well, one of those weird dreams that’s great at first and turns all crazy after a while.” He has jokes now.
“Oh, I see. So, I need to kick your ass, then?”
He lets out a hearty laugh. I don’t. I meant it. On the drive home, we discuss what to do with my house. Oh my… Home. With Cade. Not an idea I’ve settled into yet.
“Well, I was going to sell it, but I had an idea. You might think it’s crazy.”
“All right, what were you t
hinking?”
I lay out my idea for him. He looks shocked, but he smiles and nods. “That’s perfect. So you. I love it. What do we need to do to make that happen?”
“I don’t know. I need to call my real estate agent and see what she says. Maybe call my friend from school who’s an attorney. He might have thoughts on what I need to do to make that happen with all the legal stuff.”
“So, what about the rest of your vacation?” he asks.
“Well, I still haven’t seen New Orleans. I had tour plans and whatnot.”
“I see. Well, then, I’ll need to put on my tour guide hat. Do you want historic or party? Maybe cemeteries and voodoo queens’ graves?”
“All of the above. I want the whole experience.”
“Can do, Ms. Rhae.”
Interrupted
We spent the next two weeks doing all the normal tours and shopping. Cade talks about the city like an old friend. He mixes his tour of the city with stories from his college days. Turns out he didn’t grow up in New Orleans. For the most part, he grew up in south Mississippi. I finally got to ask about his parents. I learn that his mother took off on him when he was just four years old. His dad raised him as best he could. What made it difficult was his dad worked construction and oil rig jobs. Which meant Cade had to spend huge chunks of time with Irma. It explains so much of their relationship. She raised him.
What is most surprising is that he hasn’t ever attempted to find his mother. I start to push for more information, but it is a subject that makes him shut down. It is not open for discussion. At all. This seems to be the only thing he keeps away from me. I do my best to be understanding. I don’t like it, but what can I do but wait.
In addition to the regular tours and shopping, Cade takes me for picnics. It is his favorite way to spend the waning afternoons. That time of day between lunch and sunset, when the sky seems to be painted by the very hand of God. Clouds are carefully arranged like finger-paintings against a background of ever changing skies. I look forward to our daily time together on a quilt. The problem is the temperature dropping more and more each day. Eventually we are sitting on a quilt having a picnic wrapped in sweaters and blankets.
One afternoon, I feel the need to point out the end to our outdoor adventures. “You know we can’t picnic anymore this year. It is getting too cold.”
He looks reluctant to admit defeat but concedes the loss of the season. “What now?” he asks.
I have plenty of ideas, but I start with one that needs to be addressed. “Let’s go get my house squared away.”
“Have you managed to get everything ready to execute the plan?”
“I think so. The rest we can do while we are in Bell Hills. I have a whole house to pack. Plus, there’s all of Ryan’s stuff in the attic to deal with. We may need to stay there more than a couple days.”
“Have you told your dad and the sisters?”
“No. I don’t know where to start on the phone. Somehow, my traipsing around the U.S. like a nomad is better than me living with a man I’ve only known for a little while. Especially, one that ran off on me once before.”
He screws his face up as if he’s in pain, “Ouch. Okay. So, we’ll do that while we’re there.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just a fact.” This always happens. I state a fact and people get hurt. It’s what happened.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Yeah. I love you. Remember that.”
“I do. I love you, too.”
We pack up and walk back to his truck at the edge of the field, right where we always leave it. As we approach, someone is leaning against the side of the truck. The closer we get, I can see that it is a woman. She is thin, and her long, wavy, honey brown hair blowing in the wind. I look for Cade beside me to ask if he knows her, but I get the answer when I turn to see he is stock-still five or six feet behind me.
“Cade? Who is that? What’s wrong?” I ask as I step back to his side. He doesn’t move. His face falls and he looks down at his feet. I ask again, “Who is that?” I feel heat moving into my cheeks and a chill run down my body.
He looks up from his feet to meet my gaze. “Just... whatever she says, don’t say anything to her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t talk to her. Don’t let her goad you into a fuss. Trust me. Trust us. Please.”
Weird. I really don’t have a choice. I have to trust him. I take his free hand and nod. “I do trust you. I’ll get in the truck and let you talk to her alone. You can explain later.” He kisses me quickly, and we walk to the truck hand-in-hand.
Getting a good look at her, I can see that, at one time, she might have been gorgeous. Now? Well, now she is prettier from farther away. I recall the documentaries on TV about meth addiction and realize she has all the markers of that particular demon. Her face has pits that look like acne gone very bad. Her hair lacks any shine or luster. Her eyes are sad, and her cheeks are sunken in too far for what I think her age might be. She is rail thin. Girl needs a good meal.
I take the blanket from Cade and load our things into the truck before getting in myself. Cade’s face looks like he has seen a ghost. He almost looks sick or scared. Curiosity is eating me up, but I keep my word. I don’t engage this woman. I wait in the truck. I never promised I wouldn’t try to read her lips. Actually, might be better if I lower the window a little bit. I roll it all the way down.
“Well, Cade Miles!” she says overly exaggerated as if she’s run into him on the quarter.
“Shawna,” Cade greets her coldly.
“No kiss for me?” she asks, and I feel sick.
Cade is stone cold. “No. What brings you around today?”
“That’s no way to greet your fiancée, Cade. Irma would be so angry for you treating me this way. It’s not proper.”
“Former fiancée,” Cade corrects. “You ended our relationship when you chose the needle over me. Now, why are you here?”
“It’s our place. I knew you’d eventually come back, and I need a favor.” She slinks closer to him, and it is all I can do not to jump out of the truck and beat her ass. This once I wish Jess or Liz were here to see this shit. Cade takes a step back for every step she takes toward him.
“Aw, baby, don’t be that way. I’m better now. I’m off it.”
“How stupid do you think I am? I can see you are still on that shit. Now, what do you want?”
“Nothing. Honest. Who’s your friend?” She peers around him to the truck. Shit. I bet she tries to come talk to me.
“You don’t worry about her. What do you want, Shawna? You never show up unless you want something.”
She closes in on him and reaches out to stroke his chest. She does her best to look up at him under eyelashes. Oh, she is a pro. “I just, I just need… I need a little bit of money.”
“There it is. I knew it. How much?” he asks. The look on his face is hard. It’s like he’s not human anymore. He’s carved from stone.
Trying to work her mojo on him, she whines, “Well, it’s for this guy. I mean, he had to come out and fix my front door. I owe him a little money or he’s gonna call the parish police.”
“Stop it, Shawna. How much?”
“Twenty-five hundred.”
Cade laughs. “For a front door? Liar. You’re on that shit, and you owe your dealer. Get away from here and don’t come back. I ain’t giving you a dime.” I can hear his voice getting louder. She keeps begging, and eventually realizes he won’t give in, so she leaves.
Cade takes a couple minutes to recover. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, staring off in the distance. I don’t try to talk to him. I do my best to sit patiently and wait. Cade looks absolutely worn out when he climbs in the truck with me. He lays his head on the steering wheel and takes several deep breaths. I don’t say a word. I sit in silence and wait for him to talk. I can tell he needs time to process the emotions she stirred up. Eventually, he looks at me and picks my han
d up off the seat to hold.
“Thank you. I know you heard a lot of that. I know I need to explain, but can we just go home first?” he asks.
“Of course,” I answer. I’m worried about him but try to trust that he’ll tell me everything he can. When he can.
He squeezes my hand, and we drive back to the house. Cade remains distant and disconnected as he seems to process things.
When we arrive, something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but I grab Cade’s hand. “Don’t get out. Turn the truck around and leave. Something’s wrong.”
He looks at me and studies the house. “I don’t think anything’s wrong. Let’s go inside.”
Before I can protest again, he’s out of the truck. Reluctantly, I move to open my own door, and it is shoved closed again. I jump at the sight of the man who slammed the door on me. He’s holding a gun. I search for Cade and see him being held by a couple huge guys while a third is punching him. I scream, but it doesn’t do any good. The man by my door makes a “shh” motion using his gun across his lips.
I slide my hand to my phone beside me. The guy isn’t watching me completely, so I try not to make a noise. Pulling my phone into my lap, I glance down and slide the lock icon open. I hear a thud against the window and look up. The gunman is trying to break the window.
“Bitch! Put the fucking phone down. Ain’t no one coming to save the day.”
I look around for a way out of this truck. No one is covering the driver’s side. I throw my hands up, and show the phone is locked again. I mouth “I’m sorry.” I sit quietly and wait. Eventually, he turns to see what’s happening with Cade. The men seem like they are trying to bargain with Cade. Too bad you can’t bargain with a man who has been beaten and is hanging limply in the support of goons. Cade keeps shaking his head.
While the gunman guarding me isn’t paying attention, I slide over and crawl out of the driver’s side door. I drop to the ground as quietly as possible, which isn’t quiet at all on a gravel driveway. I can’t be sure the gunman isn’t looking for me, so I do my best to gather my wits and take off running. I think we left the back-porch door unlocked. I might be able to get in and call the police from inside the house. Maybe even grab Cade’s hunting rifle and help him. I may not be an ace shooter, but I can make noise and scare them.
