“Yes, I’m in here,” Mom called from the kitchen.
I walked into the kitchen that looked nothing like the one I’d grown up in. Like most of the house, they’d redone it after I moved out. The granite counter tops and custom cabinets looked nice, but I missed the old butcher block in the center of the room. “Do you have a tape player I could borrow?”
“A tape player?”
“Yes. I need to listen to this.” I held up the tape.
“Why would you need to listen to an old cassette tape?”
“Because I need to. Do you have one?”
“Of course I don’t have a cassette player. I don’t think we even have a CD player anymore.”
“Oh yes, because you and dad are so technologically savvy.”
“Cassidy, watch it.”
“Sorry. Do you think there’s one up in Nile’s room?” I pointed through the doorway to the stairs.
“You can check, but why would he have one?”
“I don’t know. He always has random things.” I turned and headed toward the stairs.
My brother Nile was a few years older than me and even more messed up than I was. He’d deny it if you asked him, but considering the number of jobs and girlfriends he’d been through in thirty years, he wasn’t exactly the poster child for well-adjusted.
I hesitated outside his door for a moment even though I knew he wasn’t in there. My brother’s room had always been off limits. I searched his freshly painted room quickly. Like the kitchen, this room held no resemblance to the room it once was. Even the holes from all Nile’s band posters had been covered up. It didn’t take me long to realize he didn’t have a tape player either. I walked next door to check out my old room, and Mom hadn’t been exaggerating. Even my carpeting was hidden by yoga mats. I closed the door tightly and headed back down.
“Mom, I’m going out to find a tape player.”
“If you’re insisting on it I’d try that old used record store over by the new Starbucks.”
“Mr. Cheapos? It’s still there?” I’d thought the place would have closed years before.
“Yes, they might have antiquated equipment like that.”
“Mom, you grew up listening to an eight-track, you’re not convincing me of anything.” I ran down to the basement for my purse and returned upstairs. My mom was nowhere to be seen, so I let myself out and headed to my car.
I drove down the quiet suburban streets, stopping at the way too frequent traffic lights before I pulled into the old parking lot and took a spot a few rows from the store. I knew I wasn’t hitting up the gym anytime soon, so any physical exercise I could get was probably a good thing—even if it was only walking a few extra feet.
I pushed open the glass door and was hit by the same cigarette smoke smell that had permeated the store the last time I’d been in there ten years earlier. I walked in slowly, noting how the décor hadn’t changed much. The large Trent Reznor poster on the side wall was the same one I’d had in my room growing up.
“Can I help you?”
I turned to find a tall guy with his hair shaved real short staring at me. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his expression did not match his offer to help. I’d evidently interrupted something he was doing. “Do you have any tape players?”
“Like a cassette player?” He narrowed his bright green eyes.
“What else would I mean?” I crossed my arms as I took another look at him. Despite his less than friendly body language and expression, the guy was attractive. His tight and worn out Polo shirt showed off muscular arms. I couldn’t tell for sure, but he looked to be in his early thirties.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come in to ask for one. Record players, all the time, but a cassette player?”
“What’s wrong with tapes? They represent one of the most fantastic eras of the modern world.”
“If you’re going to try to convince me that the 1980s were remotely fantastic you should probably stop now.”
“I was too young to really know the 80s. I’m talking about the 90s.”
He didn’t move an inch. “Same response as the 80s.”
“Oh come on! You’re going to bash on the 90s?”
He smiled. “But to answer your original question, we do have some tape players.”
“Why didn’t you say that from the beginning?”
“That would have been too simple, wouldn’t it have been?”
I smiled. “Well played.”
“Are you from around here?”
“Yeah, are you?” I studied him. Had we gone to high school together, and I hadn’t realized it? Was I really going to be that awkward girl who didn’t notice the school geek had grown up to be—well this?
“No, I’m from Roslyn originally. I was wondering how you even knew to come here.”
“My mom suggested it.”
“And you get weirder and weirder.”
“I’m weird? What about you?”
He shrugged. “Let’s find that tape player.”
I rolled my eyes. Attractive or not, the guy had problems. Not that it mattered. All I needed from him was a tape player.
“We have a couple of different models, all overpriced. You could probably find an old Walkman online or something for less.” He held two faded boxes in his hands.
“How overpriced is overpriced?”
“Fifty bucks.”
“Whatever, give me the best one.” I walked over to the counter to wait for him.
He walked around back behind the counter. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Do you guys still have those $1 used CDs?”
“First you want a tape player and now used CDs? You really are a 90s girl.”
“What are you?” I figured I might as well figure out his age.
“I’m checking you out.” Then he seemed to realize what he’d said. “And by that I mean checking out your state-of-the-art tape player.”
“Gotcha.” I slid over my credit card. I probably should have considered the intelligence of blowing fifty dollars on something when I had no expectation of another pay check, but I needed it.
“Wait. Do you guys have batteries? I assume this uses some.”
“Sure, in the back. Wait here.”
I stared at his retreating figure. Wait here? Like I was going to follow him back there?
He returned a minute later. “Here’s a pack of C batteries.”
“Are these overpriced too?”
“No.” He scanned the batteries and ran my card.
He handed me a plastic bag with my purchases and my receipt. I glanced at the receipt, noticing his name. “Thanks for the help, Leo.”
“Thanks for your business. If you ever feel the need to buy some more outdated technology, please come back.”
I shook my head. “Great customer service.” I took a step away.
“Cassidy?”
I turned around. “How did you know my name?”
“Your credit card.”
“Oh, but what is it?”
“Are you named after Butch Cassidy?”
“You think my parents named me after a train robber?” My jaw dropped.
“Ok, you get points for not giving me a blank stare.”
“I’m a 90s girl, we’re smart.” I smiled to myself as I walked away.
I heard his deep chuckle as I stepped out of the store.
Chapter 3
“Good, you’re back.” Mom’s clipped version of a greeting didn’t surprise me. I’d lived with them my entire life.
“Glad you missed me.” I leaned a hand on the cold counter top.
“Very funny. How did your shopping go?”
“I found one.” I held up the worn box.
“That looks ancient.”
“It probably is ancient.” I headed for the basement stairs.
“Where are you going?” she called after me.
“Downstairs.”
“But we don’t have time for that.”
“Why not?” I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. “What else would I need to do?”
“I called the salon. Connie squeezed you in.”
“I don’t need a haircut.” I tugged on the end of my ponytail.
“You do, and it’s my treat.” She tapped her foot. Never a good sign with my mom. “Why don’t you get changed, and we can stop for coffee on the way over.”
“Why would I need to get changed?” I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt.
“Really, Cassidy?” She narrowed her eyes.
“This is comfortable. I’m getting a haircut not going on an interview. It’s fine.”
“Whatever you say.” She forced a smile. Now I knew I was in trouble.
“Fine. I’ll change.” If I was going to be living with her for a few weeks, I needed to at least try to avoid a fight.
“We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“Fantastic.” I opened the basement door and headed downstairs.
I settled down on the bed with the small boom box. I had it out of the packaging in seconds, but the batteries were another story. I struggled with the plastic packaging before finally getting the C batteries out. I should have asked Leo to do it. I laughed picturing his expression if I’d asked him to load the batteries for me.
Satisfied the batteries were indeed in the right direction, I inserted the tape and pressed play.
I heard a faint screeching noise, and then the stop button popped up. I pushed down on play again, and the stop button popped up again.
I opened the tape deck and found a tangled mess of tape. “Damn it.” I pulled it out, snagging an end of the tape in the process. I turned the wheels to get the tape in place again, but there was definitely a groove where I’d snagged the tape.
“Cassidy?” Mom called down the stairs. “It’s been ten minutes.”
“Can’t I skip it?”
“Connie is doing me a favor fitting you in.”
I sighed and set the broken tape on the bed. “I’m coming.” I walked upstairs.
Mom was waiting in the hallway. “You never changed.”
I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I forgot.”
“Nothing we can do about it now. We need to go.” She turned and headed to the garage door.
Great. Now I’d have to spend the car ride with my mom in a huff. Whatever. I’d get through it, and then I’d come home and fix the tape.
“What were you doing downstairs?” Mom backed out of the garage.
I held my breath as she narrowly missed hitting my car. “I was trying to play the tape.”
“Oh. How was that?”
“The tape wouldn’t play and got tangled. It snagged.”
“What tape is it? We can probably order the CD.”
“It’s not that kind of tape.” I leaned back against the cool leather seat.
“Then what is it?”
“Just something I made a long time ago.”
“That you made? I wasn’t aware that you made music. That’s always been Nile’s thing.”
“Yes, I’m aware I have no musical talent.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She waited at a stop sign for a woman to cross the street with her tiny black dog. The thing was smaller than Fluffy.
“Then what do you mean?”
“Let’s change the subject.”
“Great.” I rested my head against the seat.
“Did you hear from Steve?”
“No.” Is that what she considered a good subject change? “I didn’t expect to.”
“What did you do or say to him?”
“What did I do?” I put a hand to my chest. “I did nothing. We broke up. We belonged with different people.”
“Who do you belong with?”
“I don’t know yet.” And at the moment I didn’t care.
“Then who does he belong with?”
“Someone he’s been in love with for years.” I turned away and looked out the window. It wasn’t my mom’s fault I’d stayed with a guy I had absolutely no chemistry with.
“Oh, honey.” She put a hand on my leg. “It’s not your fault.”
“I realize that.” My annoyance at the conversation had turned to anger. “No need to explain that to me.”
“A haircut is exactly what you need.”
“Yes, because good hair fixes everything.”
“It may not fix things, but it can make you feel better about yourself.”
“I don’t need to feel better about myself.” I tried to take her words as well-meaning, but they stung of an insult.
She glanced over. “Yes, you do.”
“Mom. Please.”
“Please, what? I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”
“I’m fine. I need a few weeks to get back on my feet, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I was starting to regret my decision to come home. I had some money in the bank, technically I could get a new apartment.
“I don’t mind that you’re home, but I’m worried.”
“There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“You canceled your wedding and quit your job. There is plenty for me to worry about.”
I gazed out the window again. We were getting closer to the salon.
“You can’t avoid talking about it forever.”
“Not forever. Hey, maybe the new haircut will work. I’ll be in a wonderful mood, and we can discuss everything over cocktails tonight.”
“Cassidy…” Her tone was all I needed to hear.
“Sorry, Mom. How are you? I’ve been so self-absorbed I haven’t asked you about you yet.”
“That’s understandable. And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“Great.”
“I love you.” Her words startled me. She wasn’t the type to use those words out of the blue—even with her children.
“I love you too.”
She patted my leg. “You’ll make it through this.”
“I know I will.”
“Good.” She pulled into the newly updated strip mall.
“When did they redo this one?”
“Over a year ago.”
“Oh. I guess I haven’t been here in a while.”
“You haven’t been home in a long time.”
“I am now.”
“You are.” She parked.
I unbuckled and met her on her side of the car. We walked across the newly paved parking lot to the entrance of the salon.
“Hello, Maureen.” The receptionist greeted my mom by name. She wasn’t the same one from when I used to go here, so she only smiled at me.
“Hi, Jeanie. This is my daughter Cassidy.”
“Great. Why don’t you go back and get your hair washed. Connie will be ready for you soon.”
“Thanks.” I weaved my way back to the sink area.
“Cassidy?” Someone called my name.
I glanced around for the source of the male voice.
“Hey. It’s been forever.” A guy dressed in the all black uniform of the salon walked over and hugged me.
I awkwardly stepped back and looked at him. “Oh, wow. Hi.” I struggled for words.
“You remember me, right? I mean we did work on that AP Economics project together.”
“Of course I remember you.” I definitely remembered Brent, the nerdy kid who was in half of my classes during high school, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why he was washing hair at a salon.
“It’s so good to see you. Are you back in town?”
“Temporarily.” Definitely temporarily. Long Island was a great place to grow up, but I wasn’t moving back.
“Cool. So how are you? I kind figured you’d be married and saving the world by now.”
“Yeah, not exactly.” The saving the world part was way off, but I had been pretty close to getting married. Not happening anymore though.
“Cool. Well, take a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs.
“Oh. Sure.” I awkw
ardly slipped into the chair and lay my head back. I hated this part of a haircut. The sink was always hard and uncomfortable.
He turned on the water. “Is that too hot?”
“No, it’s fine.” Awkward took on new meaning as Brent started washing my hair.
“You’ve got some grays.”
“Yeah, I know.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut.
“Most girls dye those.”
“Yup.”
“But not you?”
“No, it’s not worth the time or money.” Especially not for the amount I had.
“It’s cool you haven’t changed that much.”
“What do you mean?” Was he implying I never put in the time or money to look good?
“You don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“I try not to.” I closed my eyes tighter and tried to pretend it wasn’t a guy I knew from high school washing my hair.
“All done.”
I sat up while Brent tied a towel around my head. “Thank you.” This was where I’d normally hand him a tip. I hesitated, would that be even weirder? Stiffing him would be worse. I fished out four singles from my purse and held them out. “Thanks so much.”
He shook his head. “No thanks. How about we grab some coffee sometime instead? Are you staying at your parents’ house?”
Oh dear god. “Yeah, I am.”
“Do you have the same cell number from high school? I probably have it in my phone.”
“Cassidy, honey!” Connie, the stylist who had been cutting my hair since the age of twelve, walked over. “All ready.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” Brent called after us.
I took a seat in the black chair that Connie’s clients always used.
“Brent, huh? Not the worst choice.”
“Oh, no. No. It’s nothing like that.” I could feel blood rushing to my face. “I don’t know why he’s even saying that.”
She pumped up my chair so I sat higher. “He’s still looking at you.”
“Ugh.”
She laughed. “Maybe it will help take your mind off things.”
“I have nothing to keep my mind off of.”
Connie combed out my damp hair. “Your mom already told me.”
“Of course she did.” I wasn’t surprised my mom had shared that information without talking to me first, but it still annoyed me. I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned about it.
Forever Love: A Friends to Lovers Collections Page 38
