Chapter Nine
The bell that hung above the door of Sweet Dreams tinkled brightly when Cassidy walked into the bakery with a bag full of Lexie’s school supplies. Maggie glanced up from polishing a lipstick red café table and gave her a wink. Lexie sat at another table, absorbed in finishing her homework.
The wink made Cassidy feel even more disreputable and guilty for going on this date with Mason. As she tended to do when she felt guilty, she ran one hand through her hair and then flipped it over her shoulder like something she could put behind her. All mixed up with that guilt was another even guiltier awareness that everything inside her vibrated with nervous excitement about seeing him. She’d even caught herself singing Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” this morning.
“So, are you ready?” Maggie asked her.
“No.” Cassidy looked down at her pink gingham sundress and wished she had money for clothes. Then she felt bad for even having such an ungrateful thought.
Maggie stuck a pink gerbera daisy in a cut glass vase. She set the vase on the table and tilted her head. “He’s picking you up at six, right?”
“You’re talking about Mr. Mason again, aren’t you?” Lexie said. “That’s all anybody talks about.”
“This is Cuervo, honey,” Maggie told her. “Once we finish with the weather, that’s pretty much all we’ve got.”
“Where’s he taking you, Mom?” Lexie asked.
Cassidy started to reach for her hair again, but forced herself to stop. “You two ask a lot of questions.” She plunked down the shopping bag full of school supplies on the chair opposite Lexie. “Good thing for me then that you have a Texas history project due tomorrow.”
Lexie let her head hit the table.
“What project?” Maggie asked, poking around in the bag. “I loved Texas history.”
“Well, you can make the cardboard Alamo,” Lexie grumbled.
“Sorry to dump this on you,” Cassidy said to Maggie. “I only found out about it this morning.”
“Ain’t no big thing.” Maggie pulled Elmer’s glue, felt tip markers and rectangles of colored construction paper out of the bag and placed them on the table. “If I can make lasagna out of white bread and ketchup, building the Alamo should be a snap.”
Lexie raised her head up. “Can you really make lasagna out of white bread and ketchup?”
Maggie gave her ponytail an affectionate tug. “Do your homework, Squirt. And say goodbye to your mom. She’s going to be late if she doesn’t hightail it out of here.”
Cassidy felt Lexie’s arms wrap around her waist and reached down with more than her usual tenderness to stroke her daughter’s hair. More guilt stirred for all the things Lexie needed that she couldn’t provide—and dating seemed like one more penny taken out of the piggybank. Then she thought of Mason flying into Victoria Regional to see her, of the commotion he was probably causing right now at the airport and the car rental counter. She remembered what his face felt like when there was just a little bit of stubble, the smell of his skin, his aftershave, how they wound through her senses like a slow, drugging heat.
“I guess I’d better go then,” she murmured. But a part of her didn’t want to go. A part of her wanted to stay right here where she felt safe and warm and the smells of icing and cake batter reminded her of simpler times. Maggie was right about Mason, of course. What were the chances that things with him would end well?
Maggie followed her outside. “For the love of God, stop beating yourself up. I can hear the punching.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” Cassidy said. “What if it’s not fair to Lexie?”
“Not fair to Lexie?” Maggie put her hands on her hips, which made Cassidy cringe a little since it always meant war. “That’s a convenient excuse.”
“I thought you didn’t want me dating Mason.”
“Did I ever say that? What I want you to do is date somebody who treats you well. Mom says she has one of her ‘voodoo hunches’ about the guy, and if that’s true, I’m all for it. But I just want you to remember what happened last time and protect yourself.”
Cassidy nodded.
“Also, don’t get pregnant.”
Heat started at the roots of Cassidy’s hair and swept the rest of her in waves. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Maggie grinned. “No filter. Ask Mom.”
Cassidy rolled her bike off the wall where she’d left it and braced one foot on the pedal. “Thanks for looking after Lexie tonight. If you need anything—”
“I’ve got it handled. Go enjoy yourself. For a change.”
Enjoy yourself. Cassidy pushed off in the direction of home and wondered what the acceptable limits were for enjoying yourself. It always felt as though someone were keeping tally and that exceeding your proper amount got you punished.
Martin Strom from the grocery store waved to her from his car and she waved back, letting the bike coast for the remaining two blocks to her house. Maybe, just maybe, ten years was enough time to make amends. Maybe it was okay to date again.
Cassidy rounded the corner and saw a white Ford Escape parked in front of her house. It must be Mason’s rental, she thought excitedly. How on earth did he get here so fast? Her heart gave a wild flutter when she spotted him on the porch, his back turned to her, peering through the front windows.
“Hey!” She hopped off her bike and rested it against the giant sycamore in her front yard.
“Hey, Cassidy,” came an unfamiliar voice.
The man on the porch turned, and she froze, speechless.
It was Parker Nolen.
* * * *
“What are you doing here?” Cassidy stammered.
She saw immediately how well Parker looked, handsome in the same athletic way Mason was. His dark hair was a little longer, perhaps, and feathered back, which suited his full lips and sculpted chin. He wore a charcoal-gray suit that looked out of place on her paint-peeled country porch, yet he was every inch the good-looking young jock all the girls had swooned over in high school. Right now, the only swooning Cassidy was doing felt like fear.
“Been meaning to drop by… well, for a while now,” Parker said. “But today was sort of a spur of the moment thing.”
Cassidy stood rooted to the walkway. She opened her mouth but shut it again when no sound came out. Mason would be here soon. He would drive up and see this mess and she wouldn’t be able to say anything or explain it or even apologize. Then it occurred to her who’d put Parker up to this.
Kayla.
“You look great,” he said with a wistfulness that made her mentally shrink away from him. “Guess it’s a good thing Lexie took after you, right?”
Parker smiled down at her from the porch, giving her the full force of his predatory charm. In the window behind him, Muffins leaped up and bristled at the new intruder. She could see his tail twitching.
“You should have called,” she said, knowing how ungracious it sounded. “Lexie’s not here.”
“That’s okay. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
He wants custody, she thought. He’s taking me to court. Her hands trembled uncontrollably. With ferocious effort, she clenched them to make it stop. Having a social worker for a sister meant that Cassidy knew every awful story about unwed mothers in the court system. Most of the judges mean well, April said once, but the system is medieval, and all the court cares about is one mom and one dad—even if that dad isn’t very good.
“Can I ask you for a glass of iced tea?” Parker asked. “It’s been a long drive.”
Cassidy wished she could invent an excuse not to let him in, but her brain was just as frozen as the rest of her. “Okay,” she said. “But I don’t have a lot of time.”
She brushed past him and opened the door, the key almost dropping from her fingers. Muffins stalked ahead of her to the kitchen. He meowed while she shook dry kibble into his bowl. Then she went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of sun tea, cracked a tray of ice and dropped the cubes into a glass. Parker sat at the table, watching her.
Cassidy brought him the glass and took the chair across from him. It struck her as odd how anyone looking at them through the window would think they were an ordinary couple who had a house and a child together.
Parker sipped. “Good tea.”
“So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“How’s Lexie?”
Oh, so he was going to draw this out, she thought, make a conversation out of it. Parker always did hate answering questions. “Lexie’s fine.”
“How’s she doing in school?”
“As well as can be expected.”
He gazed over the lip of the glass, his narrow green eyes never leaving her face. “Did you hear about my promotion?”
Cassidy jumped when she heard a noise outside, but it was just Mrs. Felps steering her Lincoln up the driveway.
“I’m VP of sales now,” he said, clearly expecting her to congratulate him. “My region is protected, so there’s nobody poaching my turf. Making pretty good bank these days.”
She looked down at her five-year-old sundress and quashed another flare of resentment.
Parker set the glass on the table and turned it around and around in his fingers. “So listen, I was thinking it would be fun if I took you and Lexie to Disney World over Thanksgiving break.”
Did that mean he wasn’t angling for custody? Hope gave a timid flutter. But then his suggestion fully hit her and she wondered if she’d misunderstood. “You want me and Lexie to go to Disney World with you.”
He laughed nervously. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Lexie doesn’t know you. I don’t even know you.”
“Well, I’d like to change that.”
He said it like a man who had been deeply wronged, not a man with a thousand sins to atone for. Disney World was for families, she wanted to scream. Did he really think going there together would fix anything? She saw all too clearly Kayla’s hand in this. You’re about to lose any chance you had with her, she’d probably told him. Do something before it’s too late.
The phone rang in Grams’ study. When Cassidy stood up, the muscles in her legs shook. “Please excuse me,” she said, feeling him stare at her as she walked out of the room.
The study was cool and dark and already a better place to be because Parker wasn’t in it. She picked up the heavy old receiver, thinking it was Maggie calling about Lexie’s Alamo project. Instead, she heard Mason’s deep sexy voice, which puzzled her because he was supposed to be here, taking her on a date. Renewing her faith in men.
“I’ve been calling since forever,” he said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Cass, but there’s no way I can make it to Cuervo.”
* * * *
Something was wrong, way wrong, Mason realized, apart from the fact that Cassidy probably hated him for bailing on their date. As he stood in the courtyard with his phone pressed to one ear, he listened harder, trying to decode the tension in her voice.
“I’m really sorry about this, Cass,” he said, keeping an eye out for the police detectives who were on their way. “It’s a family thing. I’ll explain everything when I see you, just not right now. Look, is everything okay over there? You’re not pissed at me for—”
“Everything’s fine, Mason. Really.”
He could tell she was lying. And despite the stress of having no idea where his father was, of running on no food and no sleep, Mason found himself wondering what she was hiding.
“I’ll be damned. Is that Mason Hannigan on the phone?” someone with a decidedly male voice asked in the background.
Mason felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Since when did Cassidy let men inside her house? And he had a strong suspicion it wasn’t somebody she happened to be related to.
He’d only made it as far as the goddamn porch and hell, he and Cassidy were dating.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“It’s Parker.”
He waited for an explanation, an, “Oh, Parker just stopped by to see Lexie,” but Cassidy didn’t offer one. Mason clenched his teeth to keep from saying something even worse than how he felt right now. She’d had a kid with that sweet-talking sonofabitch. Mason knew he had a thousand perfectly good reasons to want Parker Nolen to wander out in front of a bus, but now those reasons felt a lot more personal. The guy blew into town, saw Cassidy and remembered how much he liked screwing her the first time. Why wouldn’t he try to do it again?
“Did Parker drop by to receive his Dad of the Year award?” he sneered.
“We can talk about it later,” she said.
Great. Now he had pissed her off. Mason flapped the hem of his T-shirt to get some air circulating. Damn shirt kept sticking to his chest. Seemed like a lot of things kept sticking to his chest. “How will I get in touch with you?”
“Call the house, I guess.”
“You’re never home and you don’t have an answering machine. It’s like living in 1955.”
“Look, I’m sorry, Mason, but I’ve really got to go.”
Yeah, so you can listen to more of Parker’s bullshit, he wanted to say. “Okay, talk to you later.”
When Mason clicked off, he had an insane urge to throw his cell phone across the courtyard. He wanted to hear the thing fucking crack against his stupid Italian fountain and burst into a thousand pieces of glass and wire and plastic. First his dad took off and now this?
No way Parker went to Cuervo to play daddy. Parker was hell-bent on sleeping with Cassidy again. And who wouldn’t want to sleep with her? She defined the word “hot.”
He pictured smashing Parker’s nose with his fist and a feeling of sharp, glorious satisfaction came over him. Then he remembered that Parker was Lexie’s father. There could be no smashing of any kind. Why was he even thinking like such a Neanderthal? When was the last time he even felt this… well, possessive?
The door to the kitchen swung open and Ruth said, “The detectives are here. I put them in the sunroom with your mother. Shall I have Keiko bring the coffee?”
Mason pocketed his cellphone. Later he would fix things with Cassidy. Later seemed like months from now. A wave of unusual weariness swept over him, but he pushed it aside. “Sure, whatever they want.”
He went around to the entrance on the north side of the house. It was peaceful on this part of the estate, hung with Chinese paper lanterns and filled with the soft sounds of water music. But there were times, like now, when his house felt less like a retreat and more like a prison. Money bought this house, his father told him once. Just make sure money don’t tear it apart.
When Mason put his hand on the door handle, he took a deep breath. He squared his shoulders and then opened it, seeing the carved oak table where his mom sat between Ruth and the two police detectives. And with a crushing sense of regret, Mason knew then how much of this was his fault. If he hadn’t been so driven to make it in the NFL, he would have seen what was going on. He would have stopped it. If he’d been paying as much attention to his own family as he did his career, his father never would have disappeared.
* * * *
“Honey, what are you doing in here?”
Cassidy opened one eye. Even though it was her mother who’d spoken, both parents stood in the doorway to the study. Her dad wore his cracked leather tool belt with all the tools hanging from it, which said he meant business. She’d almost forgotten calling him this morning about her broken garbage disposal.
His blue eyes regarded her kindly. “You look all done up, Sprout.”
Sprout. The nickname made her yearn for simpler times when she was Lexie’s age and had nothing to worry about. This morning, Muffins had batted Lexie’s cardboard Alamo off the kitchen table. Frilly toothpick trees went flying, Lexie collapsed in tears and then they’d missed the bus. Again.
Life had been trampling them both underfoot lately.
“Doak, you go on now,” her mother said. “Cassidy and I are going to have ourselves a girl talk.”
Her dad grunted the way he always did when someone was having a problem he couldn’t fix with tools. After he stamped off to the kitchen, Priscilla turned a shrewd eye on her daughter, which made Cassidy feel as though she were nine years old again and woefully transparent.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” her mother said. “I can’t remember the last time you looked this pale.”
Cassidy pushed herself to a sitting position on the sofa and rubbed her forehead. Her usual habit was to say nothing and just handle problems herself, but her mother would wheedle the truth out of her sooner or later.
“Parker showed up yesterday,” she said. “Out of nowhere.”
Priscilla sat beside her on the couch. “What did he want?”
“I don’t know. Not the truth anyway.” Cassidy bit her lip, remembering. “He said he wants to take me and Lexie to Disney World.”
“Disney World? What on earth… Does that boy think taking you to Disney World is going to make up for ten years of nothing?” Priscilla picked up a magazine and leafed through it, a gesture Cassidy had long come to recognize as a sign of annoyance. “What’s he thinking, showing up after all this time? I swear, Parker Nolen’s got bugs for brains.”
“I’m worried,” Cassidy admitted. “What if he takes me to court? What if he wants visitation?”
Priscilla licked her finger and leafed through page after page of glossy fashion photos, hardly bothering to look at what was on them, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Parker doesn’t want visitation,” she said crisply. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with a child, especially a high-spirited girl like Lexie. All he wants is credit for having tried.”
Cassidy stood up and went to the window. “You mean so Kayla will stop accusing him of being a deadbeat dad?”
“Exactly. And he’s here because Mason’s here.”
“Mason cancelled our date yesterday,” Cassidy said heavily. “He said he had family problems.”
Priscilla looked up from the magazine. “Don’t you believe him?”
“I don’t… I’m not sure what to believe,” Cassidy replied.
“Has Mason ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“Does he have a reputation for being a liar?”
“No.”
Mason had never lied to her, but he had just slipped away. He’d abandoned her without knowing just how much it hurt.
“Then have a little faith, Cassidy Dawn. Think of how much responsibility that man has on his shoulders before you go deciding he’s no longer interested.”
Cassidy winced, feeling the words no longer interested pick at an old scab. She hated worrying about whether Mason still liked her. Besides, what if he was telling the truth? What if there really were family problems? And here she was fretting over herself, fretting over Parker, fretting over things she had no way of even knowing were true yet.
A van pulled up in front of her house, and a man in a collared shirt with a logo on it got out. He carried a clipboard and a small box. A sudden smothering fear came over her. It’s a court summons, she thought wildly. Parker is suing for joint custody. She watched the man climb the steps to her porch and knock on her door.
Her mother said, “Do you want me to get that?”
“I’ll get it.” Heart pounding, Cassidy made her way to the door and opened it. The man standing there kicked up his smile a notch or two when he saw her.
“I’m Lionel Mills from Tech World in San Antonio,” he said, fumbling to adjust his glasses. “I have a new phone for you and I’m here to teach you how to use it.”
Cassidy gaped at him. She heard her mother come up behind her. “Tech World?” Priscilla echoed. “Is that the company Parker Nolen works for?”
Confused, Cassidy asked him, “I’m sorry, but who sent you?”
“Mason Hannigan.”