“Cassidy?” Dad’s voice woke me up with a start. What time was it anyway? The area of the basement I was in didn’t have windows, which meant it could have been the middle of the night or practically noon for all I knew.

I blinked away the last remnants of sleep. “Hi, Dad.”

“Can I come in?” he called from the top of the stairs.

“It’s your house.”

“I’m trying to respect your privacy.”

“Come on down.”

He flipped on some lights on his way over. “How are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in your basement.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I see that.”

“I’m fine though. I already assured mom my mental health is intact.”

“Do I need to kill Steve?” There was a trace of seriousness to Dad’s voice that made me pause.

“No. No need to kill him. I’m the one who left.”

“But you left for a reason…” Dad was dressed in his usual attire of a dark suit with a blue tie.

“Not a reason to kill him over. I just needed to do it.”

“And your job? You didn’t actually quit, did you?”

“I did.” I’d quit in a way that meant I wasn’t going back. It also meant I probably wasn’t getting a reference out of my two years of working at the company.

“Why?” he asked while straining to keep his face expressionless. I could see the struggle in the worry lines around his eyes.

“Because I want to like myself again.”

“And you don’t like yourself now?”

“No. Not really.” I smiled. It felt good to say that out loud.

“Doesn’t it seem like you’re making too many changes at once? Couldn’t you have started with only one?”

“But I wanted to change both.”

“Do you like yourself better yet?”

“I only quit yesterday.”

“Well, keep me posted.” He patted my legs before standing up.

“That’s it?” Dad wasn’t the most verbose, but I’d expected more of an interrogation.

“Mom’s going to ask enough questions for both of us.”

I glanced down at my clothes from the day before. I probably should have changed before going to sleep. “You going into work?”

“Yes. It is a work day.”

“Is that supposed to be a jab at me?” I swung my legs out of bed and moved to the edge.

“Not a jab. Just a reminder. I’ll see you tonight.” He walked back up the stairs.

I sighed. I didn’t know how I expected them to act. It’s not like I thought they were going to be jumping up and down about me moving back in.

“Fluffy?” I called out. He tended to hide a lot, but I needed to make sure he at least ate something. I filled up his food and water before digging through my bag for my toiletries and a change of clothes.

I wasn’t sure what kind of shower to expect in the new basement bathroom, but at least it was close by. I had to give kudos to my brother and whoever did the plumbing. The shower was nice. It was also hot, and I could have stayed under the warm spray forever. That is if my mother hadn’t come down.

She knocked on the door. “Cassidy? You okay in there?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“You sure? You’ve been in there a long time.” Her voice lilted. She was probably already setting me up an appointment with a therapist.

“I like long showers.”

“We need to discuss plans for the day.”

I reluctantly turned off the water. “I don’t have any plans.” I knew my mother well enough to know she wasn’t going to walk away.

“Well you can’t sit around the basement all day.”

“I figured you’d let me come up to the main floor. You know if that’s okay.” I toweled off.

“Very funny, Cassidy. I offered up Nile’s room already.”

“But that’s Nile’s room. I don’t want to sleep there.” I pulled on a worn in pair of jeans and a light pink t-shirt.

“You prefer the basement?”

I opened the door. “I need to go through some stuff anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my stuff.” I loved my mom, but she didn’t always get me.

“At least come up and have some breakfast.”

“I’ll be up in a little while.”

“I already made you a hair appointment with Connie.”

“What?” And I thought she’d have gone directly for the shrink.

“Have you looked at your hair recently?”

I touched my wet hair that fell a few inches past my shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m going to wear it in a ponytail anyway.”

“Your appointment is tomorrow. I couldn’t get anything for today, but I can try again if you want.”

“No. Tomorrow is fine.” Arguing with her wasn’t going to help anything. It was better to just agree to the path of least resistance.

“Well, come up when you’re ready.”

“I will.” I brushed out my hair. I didn’t know what my mom was talking about, my hair looked fine. I’d had it cut recently… well, six months recently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I just need some time to figure out my next step.”

She put her hands on my shoulders. “Take all the time you need.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Why would you say that?” She dropped her hands. “Why does everything have to be this way with you?”

“I’m being realistic. You don’t actually mean that.”

“No. I don’t mean you can spend months living here, but I’m also not rushing you out the door. You are going to have to tell me what’s really going on though.”

“I hated my job. I hated my life. Is that what you want to hear?” I held my arms out in frustration.

“Since when? I thought you loved being an attorney?”

“When have I ever said I loved it?”

“You’re smiling in your photo.”

“In my photo?”

“Yes. The one on the website.”

“That’s because I had to be smiling.” If my mother was judging my well-being from my professional head shot, she was the one who needed help.

“They paid you well.”

“They did, but they should have been paying me in blood.”

“Cassidy!”

“It’s true.”

“It’s a reputable insurance company. Why would you say that?”

“Because I was paid to help them screw people out of money when they were sick.” I looked away from her and from the mirror.

“That’s not what you were paid to do. You know that.”

“Do I?” I crossed my arms. The steam had dissipated, leaving a chill in the room.

“What are you going to do instead? Something more public interest?”

“I don’t know. That’s the point. I need time to think.”

“And Steve? Should he have been paying you in blood too?” She arched an eyebrow.

I groaned. “No. It just didn’t work out.”

“And you decided this after accepting an engagement ring?” She ran a finger over her own ring. The ring she’d been wearing for over forty-years.

“He wasn’t the one for me. Can’t we leave it at that?” I wasn’t ready to go into any more details yet.

“For now.” That meant she’d be asking me more about it soon.

“Great. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She stood looking at me for a moment before turning back toward the stairs.

I let out a deep breath. Maybe the worst was over.

I walked over to the tower of boxes next to my bed. Each was perfectly labeled with Cassidy: Bedroom. My mother was nothing if not meticulously organized.

I opened the first one. It was full of stuffed animals that had seen far better days. I moved it to the floor and opened the next one. This one was full of old journals and papers. I didn’t need to go there. Not yet at least. That would be good fodder for a cry when I was feeling sorry for myself later. The depressing poetry from middle school would be the best part.

The next box was less organized. It was full of old pictures, trophies, CDs, and a tape. The tape I was looking for. I opened the plastic case holding my one and only remaining cassette tape.

I held the ancient white tape in my hands. It didn’t look like much, but that tape with the words Awesome Twosome held memories of more happiness than I’d felt in over fifteen years.

Holding the tape made me need to hear it. I sorted around the rest of the boxes, discovering my old tape player wasn’t among the remains of my childhood now stored in the cardboard boxes.

Meow. Fluffy stared at me from the other side of the bed.

“Hey, boy. Did you find your food?”

He continued his stare.

“Well, eat whenever.” I scowled at him before heading upstairs.

“Mom?” I closed the basement door behind me. My parents always got mad when I left it open. I wasn’t sure if it was out of concern for energy efficiency or fear that someone might fall down the steep stairs. Now I had the added reason of keeping the cat away from them.

“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.