There wasn’t enough brain bleach in the world to blot it out.
“Cade!” Dad’s voice. “I, uh…we thought you were with Tasha.”
“Hi, honey,” came my mom’s voice, and I tried to ignore the aerated quality it held.
I kept my eyes closed and covered them with a hand for good measure.
“I’m…I just wanted to say hi,” I said, backing out of the kitchen and toward the blessed exit behind me.
“Caden, wait,” my mom said. “We were…um, we really were talking.”
“At first,” Dad mumbled.
I gave up and dropped my hand. I could only make a run for it with my eyes open anyway.
“No.” I shook my head as my mother arranged her hair. “I…Let’s talk later.”
“Caden, please,” Mom said. “Just…When you’re ready I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. In the morning or…now?”
Dad moved to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He took a sip and handed it to Mom. She sipped and handed it back, and then they shared a smile. It was so much like the old them—the them I remembered from when Dev lived with us. The them that was a unit. A couple with an unbreakable bond.
“Now’s good,” I said, giving in and moving toward the kitchen. I was drawn in by the childlike hope that my family would once again be complete. I sat at the table in my spot. My parents sank into their respective chairs like seats had been assigned.
I took in their placid smiles and asked, “What the hell is going on?”
Joyce was the first to crack. “I came over because your father called me to tell me about how you’re not going back to college.”
I put my hands on the table and pushed myself up.
“Sit down, Cade,” Dad said, his voice infused with authority. “She agrees with you. Hear her out.”
My anger melted away and I lowered myself back into my seat. “You agree with me?”
“It’s so good to hear your voice. Paul said it was back, but wow. It is really back, isn’t it?” Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked to stave them off.
“Seems to be.”
“This Tasha must be a miracle worker.”
“We’re done,” I said, letting the double meaning hang. Tasha and I were done because there was no more of me to “fix,” but we were also done because there was no more Tasha and me. She might not have spelled it out, but it wasn’t hard to determine what she wanted. And it wasn’t me.
“I’d like to meet her sometime.”
“You won’t,” I told my mom, sparing her a tight smile.
“Lose the attitude,” my father warned.
I pressed my lips together.
“You shouldn’t have to finish college for a degree you no longer desire,” Mom said. “I know you went into law because you and Brooke were high school sweethearts. You followed her around like a puppy.”
“No, I didn’t.” I sulked. I did, but it was humiliating to think about the way I used to be. Though, when I thought about the way I’d treated Tasha, I considered I hadn’t turned out much better.
“You followed Brooke to college,” my mom continued. “How were you supposed to know at age eighteen what you wanted for the rest of your life? How is anyone supposed to make a decision and stick with it when so many things change?”
All true. I wasn’t anything like the wide-eyed kid who believed Brooke was my whole future. Hell, I wasn’t even like the guy I was when I crashed my Audi. So much had changed. Around me. Inside me.
“You were brokenhearted,” my mom said next. “And you should have been. Brooke left you in a horrible position. You truly burned the ships when you professed your love to her. There was no turning back for you. When you commit, Caden, you commit.”
That wasn’t…entirely true.
She didn’t know about the string of one-night stands that followed Brooke’s pregnancy announcement, but there were some things moms were better off not knowing.
“I was afraid that stubborn streak would last forever with your speech,” she continued. “But I can feel how strong you are right now. You have arrived at a decision you believe in.” Her hand rested on my forearm. “I’m proud of you.”
My mind went to Tasha and I cringed. I didn’t know what I thought of the decision I’d made to walk away from her. Then I realized my mother was talking about my college plans—or lack thereof.
“Miller, Brian, and Carey bought the building without me. I thought I cared. I thought I was jealous.” I reconsidered, listening to the second hand on the clock over the stove tick three times. “Maybe I am a little jealous. But I don’t want what they have. It makes me remember who I was and who I’m not anymore, and it…sucks.”
“I should have heard you out, Cade,” my dad said. “I had a rough day and I called to spout off to your mother, and then she offered to come by and talk. And then…”
“Spare me the details.” I held up a hand.
My parents exchanged smiles.
I stood from the table, but I wasn’t angry. “I need to think. I can’t do that here. I’m going to go for a drive.”
“Cade,” Mom started.
“I’ll be safe. I haven’t had anything to drink tonight.” Except for Tasha. I’d been drunk on her for months and knew I could look forward to the hangover of a lifetime.
“Okay,” Mom said. “I’ll…I might be here in the morning.”
“You will.” Dad’s hand closed over hers and my heart swelled. I loved them both. I wanted them whole, together. Loving each other. I wanted it more than I had ever acknowledged. My father addressed me next. “What I should have said earlier, what I am telling you now, is that you should only fight for the things you want in your heart.”
“Everything else will fall into place.” Mom looked at my father the way she used to. All admiration and smiles. “In time.”
I palmed my neck, my throat full. I was feeling overly emotional after the events of the evening, which made me feel out of control. I didn’t like it. “Second thought, I’m, uh…I’m going to go to bed.”
Fatigue slammed into me like a brick wall. I didn’t want to think anymore. I wanted to sleep off the emotions accosting me. I wanted my bed, wanted to hold on to my pillow as well as the idea of my parents asleep in the same house. “See you in the morning.”
“I’ll make pancakes,” Dad said. Just like the old days.
Before I went upstairs, I leaned over the table and pressed a kiss to Joyce’s forehead. “Love you, Mom.”
Then I walked out before the tears started falling.
If she lost it, I’d blubber like a baby.
Chapter 18
Tasha
“I’ve been under a lot of pressure at work. The strain has been heavy, and I know you received some of the brunt of the overflow,” my dad told me.
We weren’t in his stodgy office. Instead, we sat at the kitchen table. He held a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice and I blew on a hot cup of coffee. A plate of doughnuts sat untouched between us. I was still trying to figure out what had happened to prompt him showing up at my apartment and inviting me to come over for breakfast. Typically before work he was racing around like a lunatic.
I hadn’t seen Cade since he walked out of my bedroom a week ago. I hadn’t done much of anything except go to class and go to work—thanks to Uber, I had been able to get from place to place. I wasn’t sure what Rena and Devlin knew, if anything, so I avoided her all week too. Well, I texted her. We always texted. I kept it simple. Jokes about my stupid pathophysiology teacher, photos of my coffee, or an excerpt of the latest paper I was writing.
Amazing what you can hide in text messages. On a screen, anyone would assume I was bubbly, busy me, but in person I was gray. Like a black-and-white movie. All smooth lines and shadows with no real way to discern one color from another.
“I never should have taken your car from you.” Dad slid the Z4’s key across the table to me and polished off his juice. I stared at it, stunned. I hadn’t t
old him about Cade, either. As proven when he said next, “I have no right to try and control who you date. You’re a grown woman.”
He hesitated over the word “woman,” and I guessed it was hard to see his little girl as a grown-up for the first time.
He stood and walked to the sink. “It’s a gift and there are no strings. I never should have let Tony believe I was taking his side. I know that’s what it looked like, but—”
“He cheated on me,” I blurted.
My father shut off the faucet, his eyebrows slamming down.
“Tony,” I clarified, hugging my coffee cup. “With more than one person. With several people. A few of them were good friends of mine. Didn’t you wonder why I insisted on getting my own place?”
“I thought you didn’t want to live in a dorm room any longer.” His brow crinkled like he was perplexed.
“I didn’t want a dorm room any longer. But I also didn’t want to be that close to the friends who were no longer my friends. It was too much like starting over. It was scary.”
“You didn’t tell me.” His voice hardened.
“I didn’t want to incur your wrath.” I picked up a doughnut after all, taking a sugary, soft, heavenly bite. Around a mouthful, I admitted, “You’re hard to please sometimes.”
He came back to the kitchen table. He didn’t sit, but he did put his hands in his pockets as he studied the floor.
“That’s what your mom said. Without the ‘sometimes,’ ” he said, his smile sad.
I don’t know that I’d ever seen a sad smile on Morton Montgomery’s face. I finished my doughnut, wiping my fingertips on a napkin.
“I don’t want the car,” I told him.
He met my eyes. “It’s yours, Natasha.”
“I want your support. I want you to trust me. I want you to stop holding things over my head and guilting me into doing them because you’ve given me money.”
“This is about my telling you not to see Caden.”
“This is about college. If you’re willing to pay for my schooling, I’d like to graduate and finish on your dime, Dad, I would. But if you’re not, then tell me so I can make arrangements to pay for the rest myself. I’ll pay you back every penny if you like.”
“Absolutely not. I never should have held that over your head. It’s just that last quarter at work…” He took a deep breath and looked at me as if he was debating telling me. Then he did. “There was a scary moment where I thought I might lose the house if things went south on that last deal,” he said.
“Dad.”
“I know.” He held up a hand. “I shouldn’t share that with you. It’s fine now. A merger that almost went the wrong direction for the company.” I had no idea of the specifics of what he did or how he did it. But I knew one thing for sure.
“If you lose this house, you can buy a smaller house. Why are you holding on to this palace, anyway?” I asked with a playful smile, but his answer sobered me.
“Your mom designed this house.” He sat down, but not across from me. Right next to me. The air became dense, heavy from his unresolved feelings and mine. “She picked out every doorknob.” He swallowed thickly before continuing. “Every inch of baseboard. Those little turquoise and pearl and slate gray tiles in the shower in our room. My room,” he corrected a second later.
“Yeah, well. Mom left.” She was unhappy, and she left. Left Dad and me to pick up the pieces and figure out how to live without her.
“She did. I still hope sometimes she comes back.” He looked at his folded hands like he was shamed to admit that. “And then you left too.”
“Daddy.”
He stood so abruptly, I was looking at an empty chair a second later.
“I know. Bad excuse. It’s the truth, though. Stress combined with loss of control can do a number on you.”
I immediately thought of Cade.
“Where is Caden lately?” he asked, reading my mind. “Did you two stop…seeing each other?” He sounded uncomfortable asking and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t comfortable talking to my father about either of my past relationships.
“We’re um…Yes, we stopped working together.” I stood, my heart aching. We’d stopped everything: working on his speech, sleeping together, kissing, texting…
I’d lost him.
An emotional lump clogged my throat. I offered the key back to my father. “Thank you for the car, Daddy, really, but I can’t accept it.”
“You can.”
“I can’t. Not if it makes me a stuck-up rich girl who thinks she’s too good for everyone around her.” I didn’t like how true that sounded.
“Tasha.” I couldn’t believe he’d used the shortened form of my name. And you could have knocked me over with a feather when he said, “You’re none of those things. You went into your field because you care for people a great deal. You care for Caden because you cared that he spoke again. You went to that hospital on your own. No one had to ask or demand you show up. You were there for Paul, for Caden. You are here now even though I don’t deserve you to be.”
I wasn’t going to lie, his approval—no, his pride—healed some deep wound inside me I hadn’t known was there.
“You’re an intelligent, brave, hardworking woman,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. It was so nice not to hear the word “beautiful” for a change.
“If I drive a Z4 around, people will believe I’m shallow,” I said, my tone teasing.
“People will talk no matter what. They’ll say you don’t deserve what you have whether you do or you don’t. And people will always try and fit you into the mold they are comfortable putting you in. It’s your job to stand strong and be who you are in spite of what anyone else tells you.”
There was a pregnant pause before he added, “Even me.”
“But—”
“Your car insurance is paid up for the year. She’s yours, Natasha. You earned it because you have busted your tail becoming exactly who you should become. And hearing what Tony put you through makes me see that you’ve endured more than your share of heartache. I’m sorry I didn’t support you when it came to him. He seemed like a nice boy.”
I closed my fist around the key. “Thanks, Daddy.”
We shared a smile, then his faded and he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call. Have a good day.”
And that was it.
My father walked to his office and shut the door, and I stood in the kitchen, my Z4’s key in my hand. My dad was right. I was who I was and I couldn’t be anyone less. I was privileged, but I wouldn’t apologize for it. Having money didn’t make me a bad person. If Cade couldn’t see that after all we’d been through, then the blame for our breakup rested squarely on his shoulders.
It still hurt.
Every time I thought of his smile or his tattoos or stepped into my shower, I was reminded of a time I couldn’t forget and couldn’t get back.
But hurt felt better in a BMW convertible, I thought smugly.
Outside, I put the top down, threw my bag into the front seat, and slid my sunglasses onto my nose.
I had a test today and I was arriving in style.
—
“You seem…you seem okay.” Rena said this slowly, taking her time to lean over the bar and study me intently. It was Tuesday, Cade’s day off, and the restaurant was emptying out, having closed ten minutes ago.
I finally caved and texted Rena to let her know Cade and I were through. She told me to (and I quote) “get your ass to Oak & Sage,” and I obeyed.
She’d taken on the role of bartender–slash–mother hen, feeding me alcohol and watching over me. But as the last hour progressed, she’d apparently decided I needed to leave the nest.
“I say shake it off.”
“Shake it off.”
“Yes,” she said decisively.
“Your advice about my recent breakup is the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song?”
“I thought you’d appreciate that. You love Taylor Swift.”
I gave her a weak smile. Rena got me. Everyone needed someone who got them. It was my fault for wishing one of those someones was Cade.
“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like me to have Devlin kick Cade’s ass after work tonight, or would tomorrow afternoon work better?”
“Does it expire? I’d like to wait until the hurt goes away and maybe cash it in when he’s least expecting it.”
“Ohhh.” Rena refilled my empty wineglass. “I like the way you think.” She stashed the wine bottle back in the refrigeration unit and leaned on her elbows. No one was at the bar, and the employees were scurrying around cleaning tables in an effort to haul ass out of there. Rena and I were the only two not in a hurry.
She let out a sigh. “He hurt you.”
“He did.” My chest ached like someone had scooped my heart out. Worse than when I learned Tony was cheating on me, and that was saying something.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m shaking it off.”
She didn’t laugh. “No, it’s not okay. I’m trying to make you feel better when what you need to feel is hurt. I’ve been there,” she said. “I was so devastated, I couldn’t see straight.”
“Hey,” a male voice came from behind her. I snapped my attention to Devlin, who was watching Rena with a mix of regret and admiration. His eyes cut to mine, then back to her. “Have your drawer?”
Rena retrieved the cash drawer for Devlin while I noted a weighted, palpable silence between them. He had hurt her, and not that long ago. Yes, they’d reconciled, and I knew they loved each other. I also knew Rena hadn’t meant for Dev to overhear her just now.
When she set the drawer on the bar top, he pulled her face close with both hands and pressed a kiss to the center of her lips. He didn’t take his eyes off hers when he asked, “What happened?”
Like his mouth had been coated with truth serum, she blurted, “Cade and Tasha had a fight and they aren’t speaking.”
He nodded, his expression relaxing some. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I sat there with my wine, feeling the strange urge to start humming. Devlin turned to me and repeated the same question, but I doubted he’d let me off the hook with an easy answer. “What happened?”
Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel Page 18
