Dream On (Dreams Come True)
Page 14
“You’re thinking too much,” Darlene said, bracing both hands on her shoulders and facing her toward the customer area. “Go. Work. No think.”
Cassidy blinked and refocused. She took a deep breath and headed over to the stall while Darlene went inside to take the order. Brimming with thoughts of Mason, she turned the corner and came face to face with Kayla pulling up in her stupid, gas-guzzling Mom-mobile.
Kayla cranked her car into park and turned around to yell at her kids. All three boys were in back. The toddler had been crying and the six-year-old looked surly. But all Cassidy could think about was the flier with her photo on it, the scorn and the judgment and the likelihood of Kayla’s having sent Parker over to ruin her life again. She wanted to knock that bitchy smile off Kayla’s face. She wanted to rattle that flier at her and demand her confession. But mostly she wanted to ask Kayla what made her think she was better than everybody else. Just because Kayla went to Baptist Church of Christ and had a Jesus fish on her rear bumper didn’t mean she got to tell other people how to run their lives.
But Cassidy was at work. There were rules. And as much as Artie wanted to deck whoever had pasted that flier on the service window, he’d lose his mind if she yelled at a customer. She had no other choice but to behave herself, even though her face ached from maintaining a professional smile. Resting Nice Face, Darlene would have called it, and knowing she was probably there with the audio open on the speaker menu made Cassidy feel less alone.
“Welcome to Artie’s,” Cassidy said. “May I take your drink order?”
Kayla’s eyes were busy taking in the carhop uniform, especially the shorts. Richard, her six-year-old, unlatched himself from his seatbelt and lunged forward, whining in her ear. His movements woke the baby, who squalled from his rear-facing car seat. If it had been anyone but Kayla, Cassidy would have felt sorry for her.
“What kind of way is that to greet family?” Kayla said. “Not even a Hi, how are you?”
Cassidy gave her a wave.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Kayla said, clearly pretending she didn’t notice that Cassidy hadn’t said anything. “Just so excited to know we’ll all be going to Disney World together over Thanksgiving break. I’m thinking we can get a family rate on the fast pass option. Or maybe we should get a dining plan? Mary Ellen Weisbacher said we should do a dining plan and she’s been there four times already. We don’t have to go for the deluxe but with the kids, we’d at least want two full meals and a snack, right? And the magic wristbands.”
Cassidy’s smile slipped a little. “What are you talking about?”
Kayla glanced up at her, all pink frosted lipstick, winged eyeliner and four inches of cleavage. “Didn’t Parker tell you? We’re all going—me, Todd, the kids, my folks. Lexie will have her whole family with her, the way it should be. Isn’t that exciting?”
In the autumn heat with the smothering fumes of car exhaust shimmying up her legs and making her hotter, Cassidy had a terrible sense that she’d been played. Lexie would never understand why they weren’t accepting an invitation to Disney World. She’d probably even hate her for it. Parker would say he’d been operating in good faith by including Lexie and her, but she’d refused.
Cassidy felt her knees go shaky. So Kayla and Parker had her cornered and were prepared to use her own daughter as bait and weapon. After ten years of scraping by on fast food wages and no child support, of having zero money for a car or even a cell phone, Cassidy was about to lose this fight and Parker was going to win.
He’s here because Mason’s here, her mother had told her.
“I never told Parker we’d go,” she said to Kayla. “I never promised to do anything more than think about it.”
“Richard! Unhook your brother and pass him up here,” Kayla yelled behind her. She turned back to Cassidy with that same smile on her face, the one that said how unconcerned she was about anything Cassidy had to say on the subject. “Of course you’re going. Nobody passes up a free trip to Disney World. Besides, think of the fun Lexie will miss if she doesn’t go.”
And Kayla would make sure Lexie knew about the trip. Cassidy wanted to kill her. She wanted to grab Lexie and run away from Cuervo before the rest of this nightmare had a chance to unfold. If the court system didn’t get her, then the court of public opinion would. You know that good-looking Nolen boy tries so hard to do the right thing by his daughter…
“Welcome to Artie’s, have you given the server your drink order yet?” Darlene said through the speaker menu.
Kayla had the baby on her lap now, which her toddler didn’t like because he started whining about wanting to be up front, too. Richard had already climbed over the seat and was pulling at her to buy him a milkshake.
“Richard Curtis Merriwether, you’ll spoil your supper,” she snapped at him. But to Cassidy she said, “Two milkshakes and a diet Coke.”
“What size milkshake, ma’am?” Darlene said through the speaker. “And what size diet Coke?”
“Get a large,” Richard urged.
“Milkshake!” the toddler screamed with glee, which set the baby wailing again, and now Cassidy had another reason to want to get as far away as she could.
Richard turned the radio on. Christian rock blasted out of the windows. Cassidy heard Kayla yelling at him as she herself skated away and a feeling of fierce satisfaction spiked through her. Kayla deserved it. Kayla deserved every poopy diaper, every ruined meal, every sleepless night. Kayla didn’t need to be brought down a peg—she needed to be brought down an entire row of them, all the sharp pointy ones.
“Okay, what the actual hell,” Darlene said when Cassidy coasted inside to put together a drink tray. “Has that woman lost her mind?”
“You heard her, right?” Cassidy retrieved a tub of Blue Bell vanilla bean ice cream and a carton of whole milk from the freezer and then set them on the counter a little too forcefully. She glanced up to see if Artie noticed, but Artie was busy grilling and listening to sports radio.
“I heard the whole thing,” Darlene said, opening the top of the blender and sniffing inside. “She actually expects you to be grateful. Hey, do you want me to spit in her Coke?”
“Gross. Besides, she’d never know you did, and the only fun is actually seeing her suffer.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Cassidy ran the metal scooper under hot water and then dug it into the pale yellow ice cream. What she wanted to do was call Mason and complain about it, but how would he understand what it was like to suffer through ten years of neglect as a single mother? The senior prom she didn’t go to because Lexie had croup, the graduation ceremony she threw up before because all those people were going to be watching her and she knew exactly what they were thinking: Do you think she’s already pregnant again?
“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.” Cassidy watched Darlene pinch open the milk carton and glug milk into the blender, “But I’m not going down without a fight.”
As though on cue, Kayla’s Texas twang came over the speaker. Darlene repeated her order over the in-store mic. Cassidy poured the milkshakes and the soda, placed them on the tray and skated outside. The kids had stopped screaming and were riveted to the flip down TV screen inside the car. Kayla stood on the concrete patio with the baby on her hip.
“Boy, you really get around on those things, don’t you?” Kayla said. “I have to work to stay in shape. Maybe I should try skating.”
Kayla had a terrific figure and she knew it. Any excuse to call attention to her boobs and tiny waist. Cassidy set the diet Coke on the patio table and glided over to the boys. They barely looked up when she handed them their milkshakes.
“Parker thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous, you know,” Kayla said. “He always told everyone you were way too pretty to waste on Cuervo.”
“Parker can be very charming when he wants to be,” Cassidy said stiffly.
She looked so earnest and pretty, a picture postcard of young Christian motherhood with her rhinestone cross earrings and the smattering of freckles across her chest. Cassidy could see the effort Kayla was making. But something told her that Kayla couldn’t be trusted, not even with this.
“I appreciate your concern,” Cassidy said. “But I haven’t made up my mind about Disney World. I can’t promise anything more than that.”
“It’s because of Mason, isn’t it?” Kayla asked suddenly. “Are you waiting to see if he makes plans with you? Between us girls, that could be a mighty long wait.”
Cassidy went very still. “You don’t know the first thing about me or Mason.”
“I think I do,” Kayla replied. “Or did you forget about senior prom?” She shifted the baby higher on her hip. “I can’t believe you’re taking his attention seriously, Cassidy.” Her green eyes were fixed on her in a way that Cassidy found unsettling. “Mason is the most famous quarterback in the NFL, and you’re just some girl from Cuervo who managed to get knocked up in the back of my brother’s car.”
As soon as she said the words, Kayla slapped one hand over her mouth as though she wanted to take them back again.
Cassidy knew that any normal person would be boiling with rage. Any normal person would have had to use every ounce of self-control to keep from smacking Kayla over the head with the tray.
But not her.
An eerie calm came over Cassidy. Kayla had finally told the truth. Her truth. Nothing Cassidy did or said would ever change her mind about it. No matter what happened, Kayla would always see her as trash, as less.
Cassidy tucked the tray under one arm. “I know Mason dumped you after prom, Kayla. If he dumps me, that’ll make two of us. But the difference is, I really love Mason. The only person you ever loved was yourself.”
Chapter Eleven
Mason snuck into the kitchen and swiped a beer out of the refrigerator. When he closed the door, Ruth was standing on the other side of it, glaring at him.
“Funny how I was going over next week’s schedule with you when I realized you weren’t there,” she said. “And I hate talking to myself.”
Mason turned up the wattage on his smile before grabbing his cell phone off the counter and holding it up in front of her. “Sorry. Got a date.” He felt hot and sweaty just thinking about it, about Cassidy. It happened pretty regularly these days.
“Oh, okay then. Let’s just forget the CBS interview and the photo shoot for GQ and the charity dinner you’re supposed to go to next week. Not to mention…” Ruth darted a glance at him and then lapsed into a pained silence.
Right. His dad. Mason popped the beer and took a swig, waiting for the now-familiar guilt to twist inside his gut. The guilt didn’t disappoint. For two days straight, every minute he wasn’t at practice, he’d spent making phone calls. He called all of his dad’s army buddies. He called everyone who’d ever worked at the bar. No one had seen Mickey, knew he was missing, or had any idea where he might have gone.
The word suicide oozed through Mason’s brain, but he washed it down with more suds. It was stupid to think shit like that. It kept you from being able to do anything useful or productive. Or sane.
“I’m waiting to hear back from Tib,” he told Ruth. Tib Langston was his father’s oldest friend. If anybody knew what had happened to Mickey, he did. But Tib had gone fishing, according to his wife. And when Tib went fishing, God himself couldn’t reach him.
“Let’s just hope the police detectives come up with a lead,” she replied.
“The cops aren’t going to find him,” Mason said. “I am.”
When Ruth looked at him, there was a gleam of respect in her eyes. “Big talk. But you are kind of a pit bull.”
“A what?”
She gathered her tablet, keys and purse. “Once you latch onto something, nothing can shake you off.”
Mason followed her to the door and then held it for her, watching as she marched out to her car. So far, Ruth’s car was the most telling contradiction to her knife-pleat, hospital-corners personality. Ruth drove a baby pink VW bug convertible with a fuzzy lavender flower hanging from the rearview mirror. It freaked him out every time he saw her in it.
Now he was free to call Cassidy, and for the first time all day he felt a buzz of real excitement. He needed to see her, to hear the soft country drawl of her voice, that cute habit she had of saying, “Bless her heart” or the way she put an extra syllable in the word “beer.” He needed the feeling of calm he had when he was around her. He needed to know that somebody cared, somebody who didn’t give a damn whether he was pushing a defensive tackle or pushing a broom.
He took another swallow and climbed the stairs two at a time, wondering how often Parker Fucking Nolen came to see her. What kind of fool dumped a woman like Cassidy or a kid like Lex? Did Parker actually think he was going to do better somewhere else? “What a dick,” Mason muttered before flopping down on the bed, but worry continued to pull at him, along with a strange kind of possessiveness that he didn’t remember ever feeling before.
If he had to admit the truth, he actually wanted things from this relationship, things that went beyond just the physical. But that would mean Cassidy considering the possibility of giving up part of what made her Cassidy: her home, her sisters, her parents. Not only would she have to come to Dallas, she’d have to talk Lexie into it, too. What if Lexie didn’t want to go? What if she didn’t want to go? Who could blame them? Doak and Priscilla were great parents. Unlike his own father, Doak would never take off like this.
And how could he, Mason, be one hundred percent sure this was what he wanted himself, especially since there were a million other beautiful women who didn’t come with Parker built into the equation?
But the phone was in his hand and a flare of anticipation fired through his veins. It came surging out of the place where he’d kept it in check so he could play football and make phone calls. Cassidy was for him. Just him. He didn’t have to share her with his fans or his sports agent or even Ruth.
And he sure as hell wasn’t going to share her with Parker Fucking Nolen.
“Wow,” he said when Cassidy appeared on his screen. His heart did a backward dive. “You look really beautiful.”
He stared, speechless. His throat went dry. She was seated in what appeared to be her kitchen. He could see a faucet in the background and a fruit jar filled with tiny yellow flowers. Her hair was down the way he liked it, and the sleeveless sky blue top she wore matched her eyes. Looking at her made him forget things like his name. Or how to talk. All he could do was look at her and wish she were sitting on his lap right now.
“Lexie had to show me how to install this button thing,” she said, fumbling to prop up the phone so he could see her. He caught a tantalizing glimpse of naked thighs and denim cutoffs and felt himself rising up like a drawbridge.
“Wait,” he said, confused. “You mean the video app? Didn’t the tech I sent over show you how to do that?”
“He showed me a whole bunch of stuff, but I don’t remember all of it. Hey, you’re talking to a girl who still uses a rip cord lawnmower.”
“You mow?” He had a good time picturing that. Those shorts with maybe a crop top or a bikini, sweat glistening on her skin. Now he was hard enough to hang a wet towel on. Thank God she couldn’t see.
“Dad taught me a lot of things,” she said. “I can change the oil in a car or a motorcycle, fix flat tires and shingle a roof.” She smiled with all those white teeth, which made him dizzy. “Aren’t you impressed?”
“Impressed doesn’t begin to cover it. I miss you,” he said, and the missing wasn’t just wistful. It had teeth.
“I miss you, too.” She went quiet for a moment. “Hey, Lexie and I watched your game. You kept us in suspense right until the last minute, didn’t you?”
“Not one of my better efforts.” Mason knocked back the last of his beer and set the bottle on his night stand. “Where is Lexie? She with her dad?”
“She’s going to a Halloween sleepover thing with her friends tomorrow night, so she and my mom are out looking for costumes.”
It took him half a second to process this information. His pulse ratcheted up a few beats. A slumber party meant Cassidy would be alone. Alone, as in no one else in the house. The possibilities flashing through his brain would have made a porn actor blush.
“By the way, Darlene told me if we talked on this video thing, we’d end up taking our clothes off,” she said.
Oh, baby. “Do you want to take your clothes off?” He tried to keep his voice steady.
“No, I want to touch you.” She turned bright red and averted her eyes. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
His cock throbbed inside his gym shorts. “You’re killing me.”
She bit her lip, and with something like agony, he watched her teeth sink into that soft pink flesh. “Look, I should probably tell you something,” she said. “It’s not an easy thing to talk about.”
“What is it?” he asked, equal parts curious and dazed.
“I haven’t been with anyone since… well, since Parker.”
He blinked. “Anyone?”
She straightened up in her chair. “Are you freaked out? Oh, God, you’re freaked out. I had a lot of good reasons, you know. I didn’t want to be one of those mothers who had a revolving door on her bedroom. Not in a town like Cuervo.”
Ten years, he marveled. Ten years of denying herself the most fundamental human pleasure. He let himself feel the gravity of that and his blood heated at the thought of the honor being done to him. No wonder she was such a one-woman tornado. It all made sense now. And there she was looking gorgeous and edible, having no idea what was on his mind.