Brenna walked around the car and got into the driver's seat. "Thanks, fellas," she called with a wave.
"Thank God there was no press to see that," Cassidy said.
"They're probably all waiting at home," Brenna replied. Cassidy groaned. After the car engine started, Brenna's hand slipped over Cassidy's and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Hang in there. Won't be long now."
Thankfully there were no members of the media lurking around Brenna's home. She pulled Ryan out of the car first, cradling him in her arms as she unlocked the front door. Crossing quickly through the house, she put him down in the spare room, stripping him without waking him, and tucking the sheets around him before she went back out to the car. Cassidy was leaning against the side of the SUV.
"What are you doing?"
"Being stupid," Cassidy muttered. "I got up, hoping I could walk a few steps on my own."
Brenna hugged her, holding her up at the same time. She felt the moment Cassidy gave in to her exhaustion and leaned on Brenna's strength. "All right, let's get you inside."
She helped Cassidy from the car to the wheelchair, shouldered the overnight bag, and moved toward the house. Leaning down to Cassidy, she asked, "Are you still bothered about staying here?"
"I'm not used to being able to depend on anyone but myself, Bren," Cassidy groused. "I guess that's why it's a difficult thing for me to do."
"So, it's just general grumpies. You're no longer upset with me?" Brenna turned the wheelchair around and backed Cassidy into her home.
"I know you're right. I can't take care of myself at home."
"There was always the option of a home nurse."
Cassidy frowned. "You were right about that, too. It'd be a stranger."
Brenna smiled. "Besides, I think you'll enjoy the baths I'll give you."
Cassidy laughed, then clutched her side. "Damn that hurts. But thank you."
"You're welcome." Brenna wheeled Cassidy down the corridor to her bedroom. After pulling the sheet down, she helped Cassidy onto the bed, arranging her feet and pillows to support her. "How's that?"
"I'm fine."
"Well, let's get your clothes off."
"I'm looking forward to you saying that when I'm well again."
"Trust me, I will." Brenna kissed her, brushing her fingers under Cassidy's chin, lifting her head gently.
Slip on shoes slipped off. The sweatpants had to be worked off over the bandages and brace, but Cassidy was stalwart throughout the process though Brenna cursed herself several times for not being careful enough with this or that movement.
Brenna undid the line of buttons of the shirt and pushed it back off Cassidy's shoulders. Cassidy then pulled off the Velcro strip securing her left arm to her brace. "What do you want to wear to bed?"
"I usually wear an oversized t-shirt, but I don't think I can get my arm into one."
"Do you want a button up shirt then? A robe?"
"Maybe a robe."
Brenna retrieved a terrycloth robe from the inside of her closet door. "How's this?"
Cassidy nodded, and Brenna eased her up and helped her push her arms through the roomy sleeves. As she tied the belt, Cassidy used her good hand to cover Brenna's on her waist.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." After stripping off her own clothes, Brenna pulled on a nightgown under Cassidy's appreciative watchful gaze.
As Brenna settled onto the bed far to the other side, Cassidy fingered the strap securing the brace to her left hand and wrist. She was leery of losing the support, but the doctor had assured her it could come off at night. And, God, how she wanted to hold Brenna.
Finally she pulled at the strap and loosened the contraption.
"Are you sure?" Brenna asked.
"I don't want to inadvertently hit you with it in the middle of the night." Cassidy tentatively flexed her fingers, just one at a time. She lifted her arm and placed her hand on Brenna's shoulder, letting her fingers roam the skin, her fingertips warming as she traced Brenna's collarbone and then caressed up her throat to her cheek. "Can we cuddle?" she asked.
"Are you sure we should? I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. I just need to hold you against me. Please."
"All right." Brenna gingerly arranged herself and Cassidy, so that their bodies were touching. She carefully placed her own leg over Cassidy's thigh, her palm resting on the thick vest fabric encasing Cassidy's chest, just above her heart. Her head settled against Cassidy's shoulder. No weight, just contact. She pressed her lips to Cassidy's clavicle. "How's that?"
Cassidy's right arm lifted carefully behind Brenna's back and she held the bare shoulder, stroking the silky skin around the narrow strip of cloth. "Much better." Cassidy pressed her lips to Brenna's hair. Their eyes met; Cassidy studied her lover's features, seeing that dark circles had formed. "Go to sleep."
"You too."
"I will eventually. Just want to hold you. Let you sleep." Brenna's kiss on her shoulder made Cassidy smile. "Do you want something to help you sleep?"
"You're the only drug I need right now."
Brenna's blush was endearing. "I've never been called a drug before."
"Both a stimulant and a muscle relaxant." Cassidy chuckled. She felt herself losing the struggle to stay awake.
"Love you, Cass."
Chapter 23
Brenna exhaled as the directed called, "Cut!" For what seemed like the first time in weeks, she was actually pleased with her performance. She lowered herself into a canvas sling chair, hands folded contemplatively over her stomach.
When Terry Brown reached past her for a small towel that rested on the arm of her chair, Brenna impishly snatched it up, grinning broadly as she ducked under his reach and darted behind the chair.
His eyes were smiling as he gave chase. Dodging one another, they bounced around the small area until she cut left and he intercepted her. Wrapped up in his arms, she patted his face with the towel, grinning all the while.
"Thank you," he said.
She kissed his cheek. "Thanks to you and Will for insisting I leave early the other day to take Cassidy home."
"We didn't want to ask about that. Amazingly, we saw nothing about it on the news. So you had a trouble-free trip home?"
"Yes, the press was mercifully absent. She's settled in at my place. She was as out of sorts as I was about our disagreement. I discovered that I was only listening to what she said, rather than what she meant." She added, "She does want to do more for herself, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want my help at all."
"How's her actual health?"
"She's weak, but her mood's brighter already now that she's out of the hospital. The physical therapist will start coming by on Monday. And today, she asked me to leave Ryan with her when I went home for lunch break."
"Then she's definitely feeling better."
The episode director, Mike Landau joined them. "I'm sure you know we nailed it all today."
Brenna nodded. "Thanks again. Is there something else?"
"No, I was just finishing my notes for editing and looked up to see the crew had vacated, except for you two. It's after ten. You should go home."
Brenna looked at Terry. "Why don't you come by and see Cassidy this weekend? It'll make her smile."
"You keep her to yourself for a while. I really have to take my mug home to see the wife for the weekend."
"All right."
"But I will visit eventually, I promise." Terry hugged her and left the set.
Turning back to Mike, Brenna said, "I, um, haven't talked to the writers recently. Any word on what's coming?"
"You mean whether they're writing Cass in or out?"
"I know she wants to come back."
"What are her chances of being sufficiently recovered to return before we wrap here?" the director asked. "What does her doctor say?"
"I'll ask Cassidy if I can go with her to her next appointment to get a better idea of his prognosis for the time frame of her recovery,"
Brenna decided.
"Then let us all know." Mike put a hand on Brenna's shoulder and, though younger than her, looked at her with a fatherly concern that Brenna found somewhat unsettling. "Frankly," Mike said, "I do hope Cass comes back. The two of you are among the best couples I've directed."
Brenna's brow furrowed. "That comes through in the film — that we...Cass and me...we're a couple?"
"I've seen a few in front of the camera who were able to hide that they hated each other's guts. But they were automatons. You and Cass, though, you two had sparks crackling between you right from the start, eighteen months ago. Recently, the sparks became flames and I thought..." When Brenna's gaze slid away from his, he asked, "Did I say something wrong?"
"Just...I'm embarrassed, I guess."
"Don't be. There are a lot of people who envy the passion you display." He tucked his hands into his jean pockets. "Some of us wish we could find something like that for ourselves."
Brenna heard the wistfulness. "Mike?"
"Closest I ever came, I think, was Esteban, a Spaniard I met in '91. Hot bod, great smile..."
Mike's gay? Brenna's eyebrow hitched in surprise.
"Forget it. Anyway, it's great to see someone really making it work. Anytime you and Cass want a place to hang out, I've got a place in Redondo."
After Mike left, Brenna remained alone on the set for several minutes. Hands on her hips, she tried to figure out why she felt surprised by his revelation.
As far as she knew, no one else on their set knew that Mike Landau was gay. There were members of the crew who were openly gay, like Justin, a stylist in Makeup, or Melody Capstan from Props, who wore their orientation like a badge of honor.
It suddenly hit her that Mike was seeing her as "one of us", a safe person to share his thoughts with. If the stage crew saw her that way, would it be very long before fans had that same perception? Being a gay role model was one role she knew nothing about.
The sound of the front door opening stirred Cassidy awake. Sitting up slowly, she looked around the living room from her reclining position on the couch. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she checked the clock and saw it was just after eleven-thirty.
At first she thought it might be Brenna arriving home, but when James walked in, she realized that having a chance to talk to him alone was probably a good thing.
Around ten o'clock, decidedly late for Ryan, Cassidy had stopped their cathartic snuggling on the couch and had taken her son into Brenna's extra room to put him to sleep on the futon there. What had formerly been the Lanigan boys TV and game room had become Ryan's space almost completely. It was strewn with toys more appropriate to the preschool child than the two high school boys, and so she had leaned against the door jamb watching over him as he tidied up his scattered belongings. Despite being exhausted when he finished, Cassidy had looked on the clean room with pride and praised his effort, then settled him down to sleep.
What was bothering Cassidy was that Ryan had also found a ticket stub for an art show in the downtown district, and she decided that this might be a good opportunity to ask James about it. He was past curfew. She wondered how many nights he had been out so late while his mother was tied up on the set or sitting with her at the hospital.
"Miss Hyland?"
Cassidy looked over the back of the couch to see James depositing his backpack on the floor. "Hi, James. Did you have a good evening?"
Brenna's younger son pushed his hand through his light brown hair. "Yeah. I...was out with some friends."
"Fridays are definitely prime for that," she said easily. "Your mother will be glad to know you're home safe."
"Is she home already?" The thought apparently worried him, if his anxious look toward the bedrooms was any indication.
"No, she's not home yet," Cassidy replied, and he visibly relaxed. "So, did you see another art show?" When he stiffened, she held out the ticket stub. "I came across this when I was putting Ryan to bed."
James took the stub from her and gave it a cursory glance. "Has Mom seen this?"
"No. Is this where you were tonight, too?"
James debated with himself, but apparently her nonconfrontational tack was working. A little warily, he answered, "Yeah. I...I, um, have a few pieces showing there."
Cassidy smiled; that was great news. "I saw the portrait you did of your mother." She had even coaxed Brenna into mounting the painting and hanging it on the bedroom wall. She considered it a wonderful view to focus on while laying in bed.
Warmed by her reaction, James settled on the couch next to her. "These aren't like that."
"Different medium?"
He nodded. "And different subject."
"Are you trying to sell them?"
"Hannah says I could. I guess that's why I go, to see...well, to see who's looking at them and what they're saying."
"Hannah?"
"Hannah Shropshire." He fished in his pockets, and Cassidy became aware of his clothes. He was dressed quite sharply, in a pair of black Dockers pants and a slightly large matching black cotton, button-down shirt with a single breast pocket. His typical attire for school would have been a white polo shirt and faded blue jeans. Finally he passed her a small business card. "She's the gallery owner, a friend of my art teacher."
"Your art teacher recommended you for a showing?"
"Along with other kids," he said. "It's an Arts for Education campaign."
"But it's not sponsored by the schools, is it?"
James shook his head. "That's why I've been glad Mom doesn't get home early. She'd have a cow if she knew it was unchaperoned."
"What's the subject matter?"
James dropped his head as he considered his answer. "Teen life," he said finally.
Cassidy looked at the card in her hand, which mentioned not only the gallery but the show title: Sex, Drugs, and the American Teen Experience. She closed her mouth tightly. Oh, boy.
"Am I grounded?"
"I don't have the authority to do that. You should tell your mother, though."
"I'd be grounded faster than an electrical line. I wouldn't get a chance to explain."
"Maybe if you talked to me, you would."
Cassidy looked up, as James turned around abruptly, their gazes settling on Brenna who was just entering the house and taking off her light jacket.
"Hi," James said warily.
"Did things go smoothly on the set?" Cassidy asked quietly.
"The set is fine," Brenna answered briskly, striding forward. "So, where have you been?" she asked her son.
James ducked his head, and Cassidy recognized the gesture as one that Brenna often had when she was unsure what would be best to say. "Go on," she encouraged James with a cautious pat to the back of his shoulder.
Standing up, James turned to his mother and said, "I was at the Isis Gallery." His mother's expression didn't change. "It's an art gallery off Simon. I...they're showing a few of my pieces."
Brenna's fingers tapped on the back of the couch, and she looked down at the fabric for a long moment, breathing deeply several times before speaking. "All right. Have you been going there every night?"
"Nobody's been here. I didn't think it would hurt anything," he muttered.
"Not hurt anything! James, what if something happened to you out there? Would anyone know to call us?"
"Bren." Cassidy's initial call went unheard, so she called louder, "Bren!"
"What?"
"I've already talked to him about this. I've handled it."
Brenna turned away, but Cassidy clearly saw her anger. She knew that most of it was a result of James' actions, but wasn't sure that some of it wasn't reserved for her intervention.
"Thank you. Tomorrow I want to go see this gallery," Brenna said after a minute. James swallowed, but nodded. "Good night, James."
"Good night, Mom."
Brenna waited until James was out of sight before speaking again. "Cass? Why did you do that?"
"Because I was here. You said 'us' when ta
lking to James just now. You want us to be a couple, Bren? I can handle a broken curfew."
"But you're..." Brenna gestured widely.
"Not his mother?"
"I wasn't going to say that. You're still mostly flat on your back."
"All I did was talk to him." She winced a little as she pushed herself into a better sitting position.
"You're supposed to be recuperating." Brenna plunked herself down next to Cassidy on the couch, and Cassidy stretched out an arm, encouraging Brenna to snuggle up against her but Brenna balked. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'll live. I need a hug as much as you do." Cassidy closed her eyes in contentment as Brenna's body moved against hers. The weight was light, but the solidity of her lover beside her filled her eyes with tears. "I've missed you. Being at the hospital, I frequently had visitors, the nursing staff at least, but I still missed you. Being home and having Ryan to talk to for much of the day was nice, but..." Cassidy lifted Brenna's chin. "I missed you. I haven't hugged you since our first night home."
"We really have to remedy that," Brenna acknowledged. "I miss you constantly. Knowing you're here, though...I have been better able to keep my mind on task."
"So shooting went well?"
"Yeah. Mike Landau's looking forward to us being back on set together."
"Really?"
"Says that when he's watching us together, it gives him hope he'll find his own lover."
"Mike's gay?"
"Seems so."
Cassidy laughed. "We're role models."
"Scares me to death."
"Come on, what's difficult? You just keep loving me and I'll keep loving you. We'll figure out how to parent the kids together and be absolutely model citizens. Maybe we can single-handedly turn the public tide for gay marriage."
"That's not likely."
"We're bound to be asked sooner or later," Cassidy persisted.
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