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Catching Cassidy

Page 25

by Melissa Foster


  “A bridal shop? Why are you looking for me?”

  Samantha smiles and holds out her hand. “Because I saw the pictures you took of that beach wedding and I think I can refer a lot of business to you.”

  “You saw my pictures?”

  “They’re all over Pinterest and Facebook, and getting loads of comments.” Samantha looks from me to Wyatt. “Haven’t you seen them?”

  I can hardly believe it. Loads of comments? I shake my head.

  “Well, you should Google them!” Samantha glances at the stage. “You must be new in town, because I’d never heard of you before, and since I’m in the bridal industry, I make it my business to know all the photographers in Harborside.”

  “I’m not a real photographer. That was really just a onetime thing to help out.”

  “Can I at least give you my number? Maybe you’ll make it more than a onetime thing.”

  Wyatt’s beaming at me from behind the bar. I can’t help but give in to the excitement inside me. “Yes, sure.” I take out my phone, and she gives me her phone number.

  She touches my arm like we’ve been friends forever and leans in close. “Your boyfriend said you take the best pictures in all of Harborside.”

  I wonder how Wyatt would even know. Not that it matters. It’s an obvious exaggeration, but I love hearing that he said it.

  “Well, I’ve got to go meet my girlfriends. Thanks, and look up your pictures online. You’ll be amazed at the comments.” Samantha waves to Wyatt and heads for the door.

  My phone vibrates with a call, but I’m still reeling from the conversation, thinking about the pictures I took being seen by so many people. It’s exciting and scary at the same time, and I can’t wait to find them online. I see my mom’s name on my screen and worry because it’s past midnight where she is. I answer the call, but I can barely hear, so I go into the back room, where it’s quieter. “Hello?”

  “Honey, it’s Mom. How are you?”

  “Mom? Isn’t it like one in the morning there? Is something wrong?”

  “We’re always up late. Dad and I just got in and we thought we’d try to catch you. Can you Skype?”

  My mother’s voice sounds funny, but I can’t place what I hear, and it momentarily throws me off-balance. “Um…I’m not at home, but let me see if this computer has Skype.” I search Tim’s desktop for Skype, then log on to the application.

  As I’m watching the Skype icon spin, I can’t help but wonder about my parents wanting to Skype with me. We’ve Skyped before, but very rarely. They didn’t even offer to Skype after Wyatt’s parents died, and I’d think that’s when parents would want to look into their daughter’s eyes and make sure she’s okay. Then again, it’s not like I have normal parents. I assume they’re really excited about my job offer and gung ho to push, push, push me toward accepting it.

  “I got you grapefruit oil. I know you’ll need all the energy you can get once you move to New York.”

  Grapefruit oil? Skype connects, and I move away from the screen because I don’t want to see my mother’s face right now. I can’t believe she bought me something I’m allergic to. Again. Aren’t mothers supposed to know what their daughters are allergic to? I’ve only been allergic to grapefruits forever, for God’s sake. I try to rein in my disbelief.

  “Thanks, Mom, but I can’t use grapefruit oil, remember?”

  “Huh. Sorry, Cassidy. I guess I’ll keep the grapefruit oil for myself. I’ll find you something else.”

  She pauses, and I wonder if she realizes how this makes me feel. Or if she even cares.

  “Skype is working. Where are you?” my mother asks.

  Wishing I were someplace else. “I’m here.”

  I end the call and sit in front of the computer so she can see me. It’s after midnight there, and my mom is in full makeup and my father’s still wearing a dress shirt and tie. I see an open bottle of wine between them on the table where they’re sitting, and I wonder what kind of parents wait until after midnight, and after they’ve obviously had several drinks, to call their kids. Were they out partying too late and just realized they wanted to pressure me a little more to make a decision about New York? Or maybe dangle another carrot? Why can’t they be like Wyatt? He respects my need to make a decision without pressure.

  “How are you, Cassidy?” my father asks.

  “Okay. Really good, actually.” I sit down in Tim’s chair, and they share a glance that seems uncomfortable.

  “Why are you calling so late?” I swear if they start giving me crap about New York or Wyatt, I’m going to blow up.

  “Cassidy Lynn.” My father pauses, and I realize what he’s just called me.

  “You only call me that when bad stuff’s happening, like when Grandma died. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Calm down,” my mother says.

  “Okay, good.” I take a few deep breaths, and they share another uncomfortable glance.

  “Cassidy Ly—Cassidy, your mother and I are getting divorced.”

  I blink several times, sure I’ve misunderstood them. “What? I thought you said you were getting divorced.”

  “We are.” My mother’s expression doesn’t change. Her eyes are flat, nonplussed, as if she’s just told me she lost her shoe. No, then she’d at least look upset.

  The air leaves my lungs. “No. No, you’re not. You love each other.”

  “Honey, people grow apart.” My mother says this like it’s a fact of life, like she’s not tearing apart the only family I’ve ever known and turning my world upside down.

  A fleeting thought careens through my head. They’re not the only family I’ve ever known. They’re more like the family I have never known. I have everyone here now, too. I push the thought away. It feels like a rationalization for what she’s just said. A way to let her off the hook.

  “No.” My heart races, and I’m breathing so fast I can’t slow it down. “You two love each other too much to fit me in.” I don’t know where the words are coming from, but they feel as though they’re being ripped out of my soul. My body begins to tremble, and my thoughts scatter.

  “Honey, calm down. You have lots of friends with divorced parents. It’s not that big of a deal, and it’s not the end of the world. It just means that your father and I will live in separate houses.”

  “Oh, is that all it means? Really, Mom?” I push away from the desk as Wyatt appears in the doorway. His smile immediately fades.

  “Cassidy. Honey, are you okay?” my father asks.

  “Oh, right. Yeah. Fine. Apparently, your life can be ripped to shreds and all it means is…No big deal.” I push past Wyatt and run out the back door of the bar and into the night. I sprint down the pier as fast as I can, away from Wyatt’s voice calling after me, away from the bar, away from my parents, away from everything and everyone. My feet hit the pavement and I take off across the road. I don’t think about where I’m going or why I’m running from Wyatt. I don’t think at all, because every time my mind begins to work, I hear my mother’s stupid voice telling me their divorce is no big deal.

  I run onto the grass and through the woods until I hear the trickling of the creek, and I keep on running, right into the creek. The cold water brings my mind back to the terrible, awful moment. I fall to my knees and sink back on my heels as water swirls around me and I sob. I sob for the parents I wish I had and for the parents Wyatt lost. I sob for the little girl I once was, watching my parents and thinking about how they loved each other so much they’d used up all their love and had none left to give me. I sob because New Fucking York is hundreds of miles away from where I really want to be, and I sob because I feel guilty for crying. My parents are alive and Wyatt and Delilah’s are gone.

  I sob because it’s the only thing I can do.

  I feel his arms around me, hear his words floating far away. I feel myself lifted from the water, and I punch and kick and fight while he tries to soothe me. I smell his masculine scent and I feel him holding me so tight I can’t figh
t. My arms are pinned, and my legs are pressed against him. All I can do is cry, and cry, and cry until my lungs burn and my eyes feel swollen shut. I cry until I can’t see and I can’t feel, and I cry until everything turns black and my mind goes blank. I cry until I float away into a dark place that feels like heaven, because I know Wyatt is right there with me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ~Wyatt~

  WHEN I FOUND Cassidy in the water, crying and completely zoned out, I didn’t know what had happened. I bundled her in my arms and carried her home. I filled a warm bath and climbed in with her, then held her until she stopped shaking and crying. I helped her dress in one of my long-sleeve T-shirts, tucked her into bed, and held her until she drifted off to sleep. Only then did I get up and call Dutch, who went to check what Cassidy had been doing on the computer. He found Skype open and Cassidy logged in. The last call was to her parents. I didn’t want to call her parents because they’re not exactly my favorite people, but I had to find out why she was so upset, so I called, and they told me what had happened.

  Cassidy’s been asleep for most of the day. Tristan and Delilah are managing the bar so I can stay with Cassidy. Brooke and Jesse came by, as did Brandon. Her parents might have abandoned her, but she’s surrounded by people who care, and right now I’m so fucking glad she’s here with me. I can’t imagine her getting that news when she was alone. I guess everyone heard about what happened, and I don’t give a shit about anything right now except Cassidy. I’m so worried about her I can barely see straight. She stirs beside me, and I help her sit up and try to get her to drink water, but she turns away. She’s so out of it that I’d think she were drugged if I didn’t know her as well as I do.

  “Cassidy, sweetheart, you need to drink something.” I hold the cup to her lips and she takes a tiny sip. I set the glass down and fold her into my arms. She feels fragile and small, and I want to wring her parents’ necks.

  She leans back against my chest and sighs. “My parents are…” Tears spring from her eyes.

  “I know, babe.” I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to her temple. “It’s okay, Cass. Cry it out.” I’ve never seen her so upset. There have been many times when I wanted to give her parents a piece of my mind for leaving her or treating her badly, but right now, seeing her like this, makes me want to protect her from them. I swear if they called right now I’d probably tell them to never call her again—and that would be a mistake. Even if they’re shitty parents, they’re her parents, and they’re still alive. I have to believe that even though they’re cold-hearted, somehow, sometime, they’ll see they’re losing out on the best part of their lives. But they’ve made her feel so bad over the years, and to give her this news—news that knocked her to her knees—over Skype was cold. I can’t even begin to process the news itself. They’re getting a divorce? Their entire life has been wrapped around each other and having fun while they left their daughter behind. Maybe they divorced her long ago. It shouldn’t surprise me that they’d do this to her, but it does. I feel like they barely know their daughter at all. They have no idea how sensitive and loving Cassidy is, and they don’t deserve her tears.

  Cassidy lies down across my lap and rests her cheek against my stomach. “I figured it out.” Her voice is thin and quiet.

  “What, babe? What did you figure out?” I hate seeing her eyes puffy, with dark crescents beneath them.

  “My parents were consumed with filling up all their empty parts by looking for the next-best thing. They must have always been searching for it, like you.”

  Ice slices through my chest. “Cassidy, I’m not searching for anything.”

  She nods. “I know. But you were. All those years, you were searching. You were empty, like them.”

  “I’m not like them, Cass. I know how to love. I love you. I adore you.” All those years I was probably running from my feelings for Cassidy, but I don’t want to argue with her, not at a time like this.

  She shakes her head, and fear rushes through me. “It was all a farce. The love between them. The trips. Everything. You can’t trust anything.”

  “You’re wrong, Cass. You can trust me. You’re it for me. There is no next-best thing.”

  She laughs, but it’s a strangled, painful laugh. “Apparently, there’s always a next-best thing, and when you least expect it, it bites you in the ass.” She sits up, and as if she’s slipping into protective armor, she shakes her shoulders, then draws them back. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

  “It’s okay to freak out. Your world was just turned upside down.”

  She looks away, and I don’t know if it’s the dark and sad look in her eyes or the way her voice sounds, but I have a bad feeling. I reach for her hand, and it lies limp in my palm.

  “Cass?” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “What can I do to help?”

  She shakes her head. “I think I’m just grieving.”

  I know a little something about grieving. Grieving sucks, but as Livi said, time does heal all wounds, and I want to help her through this.

  “Babe, they’re just getting divorced. They’re still here, still your parents.”

  She whips her head around. “That’s just it, Wyatt. They’re not just getting divorced. Maybe for anyone else it would be just a divorce, but you’ve seen them. I can’t imagine two people more in love, or at least I couldn’t before now. Now I realize that it was all fake.”

  “You don’t know that, Cassidy. They were probably madly in love, and they just…grew apart.”

  She slides me a deadpan stare. “Any way you cut it, it all means the same thing. It means that all those years when they were acting like I didn’t belong with them, like I was an imposition, a third wheel…all those years that I accepted it were for nothing. They’re not staying together. And if their love wasn’t fake, and they really were so crazy in love that they would treat their own daughter that way, then what does that say about love?”

  “Cass, I know the news threw you for a loop, and I know how they treated you sucks, but it doesn’t mean that love is that way for everyone.”

  She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know what to think. I guess I’m still in shock.”

  “That’s understandable. Come on. Why don’t you shower and we’ll go down to the beach for a while, or walk on the boardwalk. We’ll get your mind off of it.”

  She agrees, and I breathe a little easier, but there’s no missing the fact that the spark of light that’s usually shining in her beautiful eyes is gone, and it’s all I can do to try to remain positive and not just bundle her up in my arms and keep her from having to face anything else for as long as she needs. Deep down I know she needs to get out and put some distance between herself and the situation with her parents so she can begin to deal with it. She’s too mired down with shock right now. The impact is still too fresh. A distraction will hopefully help.

  “It’ll be okay, Cass. We’ll figure this out.” I fold her into my arms again and press a kiss to her lips. “I’ll wait downstairs. Take your time.”

  ~Cassidy~

  WYATT IS GOOD at distracting me. He’s always been able to pick me up when I’m sad, and today’s no different. After we left the house, we went down to the boardwalk and walked for a long time. He didn’t try to get me to talk about my parents, and I’m glad. My stomach growls, but I don’t want to go into the café. I don’t want to talk to Brooke about my parents yet. I need to get a handle on it first. I’m still having trouble with the fact that I thought it was okay when they were treating me like I was an accessory rather than a daughter because I thought that they were in love. I feel guilty that I didn’t speak up, which is totally messed up, but I do feel that way. I even wonder if it might have saved their marriage if they’d have paid more attention to the fact that we were supposed to be a family. But those are all pipe dreams. They’re thoughts from the little girl they left behind too many times, and I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m not their little girl anymore.
I’m twenty-two years old, on the cusp of some of the most important decisions of my life. Could they have picked a worse time to separate?

  We buy burgers from the grill at the far end of the boardwalk, and by the time we head back, the sun is dipping from the sky. We walk down by the water, splashing each other’s feet and laughing, and it feels really good to let this happiness in. My mind wanders to my parents again, and I begin to wonder if they were ever happy or if it was all a show. Were they trying to convince themselves they were happy? I fight those thoughts tooth and nail, because Wyatt—wonderful, caring, loving Wyatt—is pulling me back onto the boardwalk and tugging me toward a photo booth.

  “Come on, Cass. We haven’t done this all summer.”

  He puts money into the slot in the photo booth, and we step behind the curtain. He pulls me down on his lap and gathers my hair over one shoulder, and then he leans his chin on my other shoulder. Right before the camera flashes, he presses his lips to my cheek. It makes me smile.

  “Kiss me,” he says.

  I turn to him and press my lips to his. Tears well in my eyes, and I close them tight as the camera flashes. Luckily, he can’t see that they’re damp, and when he deepens the kiss, I get caught up in him. His arms are strong and warm around me, and our mouths fit together so perfectly. Everything about us is familiar, and I feel like an idiot for the tears streaming down my face. I don’t even know why I’m crying.

  When our lips part, Wyatt’s eyes fill with concern. He wipes my tears with his thumb. “Babe? It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  I nod, because I’m afraid I’ll cry harder if I try to talk.

  “Is it me?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Your parents?”

  I nod and force myself to answer. I don’t want him thinking that it’s him. “I bet my parents were happy at first.”

  “Of course they were, Cass. Maybe you should talk to them about this. Talk it out so you can understand what they’re going through, and tell them how you’ve felt all these years.”

 

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