CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - CASEY
The next day, I was a damn mess of a person. I hadn’t slept a single wink all night, with all my stress and worry just hovering on top of me like a sack of rocks. I couldn’t believe how much of an idiot I had been with Luke. Once again, I had acted like a fool and possibly pushed away the one man I had ever felt such powerful feelings for. What the hell was I supposed to do now? How many times could I turn tail and bolt away from this man before he finally just gave up on me altogether?
So far, this morning I had just been moping around my apartment like a useless lump, agonizing over whether or not to call Luke and apologize. Or maybe just hop in my car, drive away, change my name, and start over in some podunk desert town where no one would find me. The embarrassment and regret were rising up and threatening to drown me, and I had nobody to blame for this catastrophe but myself. I was the idiot. I was the one who didn’t know how to react appropriately to someone being nice to me, to someone offering me love. Wasn’t that what we were all after in this life, anyway? True love? So why the hell did it scare me so much? What in the world was I so afraid of? What was I running away from?
As of yet, I had not discovered the answer. Instead, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring down at the hardwood floors intently, lost in thought and just blindly hoping that a good solution would occur to me like divine inspiration. But at the moment, all I was getting was a hard blank. I groaned and cradled my face in my hands.
“Damn it, Casey. This is why we can’t have nice things,” I muttered to myself. “Fucked it all up again, just as things were starting to go well.”
Just then, my phone started buzzing and I nearly fell off the bed in my haste to pick it up. I slid the screen open with my heart pounding, thinking it might be a message from Luke.
“Hello?” I said feverishly.
“Hi, darling!” chirped my mother’s chipper voice. I sighed.
“Oh. Hey Ma,” I replied.
“Well, no need to sound so disappointed,” she scoffed. “Might just hurt my feelings!”
“Sorry, Ma,” I said quickly. “I’m not disappointed, I swear. I love talking to you. It’s just that… I was kind of expecting a call. Well, hoping for one, more like.”
“Ooh. From whom?” she quipped, brightening up at the prospect of some hot new gossip or something. I smiled wryly, glad that she couldn’t see my face right now.
“Nobody. Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “How are you today?”
“I’m fine. Just fine, honey. But I have the day off and I’ve been up since dawn cleaning the house and listening to some old records and I thought to myself, ‘wouldn’t it be lovely to talk to my amazing son’? So here I am,” she explained cheerfully. “How’s your leg, sweetie?”
“It’s good. Well, not good. It’s okay. Getting better by the minute,” I said.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Casey. You’ve always been a quick healer, you know that? Remember when you were eight years old and you fell into that ravine while you were riding your bicycle around the block? Oh, I was so scared. Just petrified. I thought for sure the doctors were going to tell me you’d never walk again or something. But the EMTs plucked you out of that ravine, cleaned up that awful booboo on your knee, and you were good as new! Only needed—what was it? Four stitches? Hardly anything at all. You were so tough. Didn’t even cry. You know, I told your father you might be too afraid to try riding your bike again but wouldn’t you know it, within a few days you were right back on the road, riding around like nothing bad had ever happened at all. My little warrior, since the very start!”
I chuckled. “You have a good memory, Ma.”
She giggled. “Only when it pertains to stuff like that. It’s a mother’s memory, dear. I might forget my own phone number from time to time, but I will never forget the big smile on your face as you hopped back on that bike and took off.”
“I learned how to be tough from you and Dad,” I told her.
I heard her gasp. “Oh, not from me! Certainly not from me. Just the other day I was puttering around the garden and I stubbed my big toe on a clay pot, and wouldn’t you know it, I just about screamed! My neighbor, you know Mrs. Gordon, she came rushing over thinking someone must’ve shot me, I was crying so hard. When she found out I’d only stubbed my toe she just about laughed her butt off.”
“Mrs. Gordon is a busybody anyway, Ma,” I said.
She laughed. “Oh honey, that’s not very nice!”
“It’s true, though, and you know it,” I replied.
“You’re right, you’re right, of course.” She gasped again. “I just had the most wonderful idea! Why don’t you come on over here and we can chat in person?”
“Uh,” I said awkwardly, but she steamrolled right on.
“Yes! Oh, do come over. I’m bored out of my mind over here and I’ve got a chicken roasting in the oven for lunch. We could eat and talk and catch up on everything. I’ve even got a fresh pitcher of that rose lemonade I used to make for you when you were a kid,” she added, clearly trying to bribe me. I grinned and rolled my eyes, knowing there was no point in arguing with her. Besides, it wasn’t like I had any good excuse not to go see her. In fact, I reasoned that it might even be a welcome distraction from the stress.
“Alright, Ma. You won me over. I’ll head that way in a jiff,” I said.
She squealed with joy. “Oh, that’s so good to hear! Be careful driving, dear. I’ll see you soon!” She hung up, and I sighed, shaking my head. That woman could persuade anyone to do anything, she was so persistent. And so damn sweet.
I hurriedly got dressed and got in the car, driving across town to the pristine, idyllic suburban neighborhood where I had grown up. All the lawns were perfectly emerald green, the sprinklers going constantly. The houses looked like cookie-cutter dollhouses, not a peeling paint job or a shoddy roofing to be seen here. My mom’s place was one of the smaller houses, nearly a bungalow, with yellow siding and a cherry red door. The front yard was a paradise of well-manicured grass, bright flowers, and expertly trimmed hedges. I parked behind Ma’s little silver Volkswagen and got out, barely needing the crutches as I made my way up the stone path to the front door. There were birds chirping in the trees and fluttering around the bird feeder, brightly colored butterflies flitting around the roses. My mother was one hell of a homemaker. It was a wonder that she found the time to take such good care of her place, considering her long shifts as a nurse.
I knocked on the door and heard her call out, “Coming!”
She opened the door with a broad smile, her chin-length blonde hair curled perfectly and her blue eyes shining with joy. She was wearing the same sunny yellow apron she had always worn in the kitchen and she beckoned me in with a tight hug. “Oh, my sweet boy! It’s so wonderful to see you. Goodness, have you gotten taller?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I laughed. “Ma, I think by now I’ve stopped growing. Puberty ended about ten years ago, I believe.” She clucked her tongue.
“Well, you sure seem bigger to me! Come on in, honey, I’ll pour us some lemonade.”
I followed her into the eat-in kitchen, taking a seat at the little table. She hummed cheerfully as she went to the fridge and took out a pitcher of pink rose lemonade. She poured us each a mason jar of the sweet drink and then sat down next to me, beaming like the sun.
“So, sweetheart, tell me everything. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing lately and give me all the details!” she commanded, taking a sip of her drink.
I smiled. “Well, I’ve been out of work with this damn injury, so I haven’t been up to much. Mostly just going to physical therapy and trying to relax a little.”
“Good, good. You deserve to relax, sweetie. What else?”
I looked at her for a long moment, then suddenly I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I burst out, “And I started seeing someone. A man. A good man. His name is Luke and he’s amazing. But now I think… well, I think I might have ruined it.”
Her eyes went huge and round. “Oh, my goodness gracious. A man? You’ve been dating? Wow! That is fantastic news, Casey! When do I get to meet him?”
“Ma, I just said that I ruined it. Things were going so well. Luke is handsome; he’s smart; he’s successful; he’s so kind. But I messed up. He told me… well, he confessed his feelings for me, and I just got spooked, I guess,” I sighed.
The oven timer dinged, and she hopped up to retrieve the roast chicken, portioning it out along with the carrots and potatoes and bringing two plates back to the table. She fixed me with a worried, loving look. “Sweetheart, you’ll figure it out. I know you will. And when you do, you really must bring him over so I can meet him. Oh, I’m so happy for you! And your father will be so pleased to hear about this, too.”
“Dad? Why would he be happy about this?” I asked, frowning.
Ma tilted her head to one side, looking confused. “Well, why wouldn’t he be? He’s your father, Casey. He just wants you to find someone and be happy.”
“Even if I find that happiness with a man?” I asked. Had she lost her mind?
She smiled sweetly, taking a bite of chicken. “Oh, he doesn’t care if you bring home a man or a woman, as long as you’re happy. That’s all we want for you, of course. To be happy. To be loved. You deserve that, Casey.”
“But I thought…” I trailed off.
Ma seemed to catch on, her smile fading and tears springing to her eyes. “Sweetheart, did you really think that your father or I don’t approve?”
I nodded slowly. “All these years.”
“You never asked him what he thought?” she suggested with a shrug.
I shook my head. “No. Never. He’s not exactly the chatty type.”
She sighed heavily and reached over to lay her hands over mine. “Casey, that’s exactly the problem. Your father loves you. He always has. We both do. We are both so incredibly proud of you, of the man you have become. Neither of us could ask for a better son. Just because your father doesn’t tell you how he feels all too often doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you or approve of your choices. He’s proud of you. He really is. He tells me all the time.”
“He... does?” I breathed, totally in shock.
“Well, of course, silly. He’s your father. He’ll always love you, no matter what. Oh, he’s so quiet and serious all the time that it might be hard to tell. But I know that man better than anyone, and I can tell you that all he wants is for you to find a nice man who will love and protect you the way you deserve,” she explained, smiling gently.
“I never knew,” I murmured.
“I know, honey,” she sighed. “Your father has never been very good at expressing his emotions. To be perfectly frank with you, that is one of the main reasons we split up all those years ago. He just doesn’t know how to communicate. That’s why I try so hard to make all my feelings known. You just never know what the future holds, and I want you to understand how much I love you, so I tell you all the time.”
My heart was thumping wildly. “You’re the wisest person I know,” I told her.
She grinned and blushed. “You’re too sweet.”
I stood up. “No, Ma. I’m serious. I-I know what I have to do now.”
She looked surprised. “Oh? What is it?”
I smiled broadly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. “I’m not going to let this slip away from me. I can’t be like Dad. I have to make my feelings known instead of just hiding away like I have all these years. I know what I have to do now. Thanks for the talk, Ma. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, but… I have something I need to do, and it can’t wait.”
She got to her feet and hugged me tightly. “Alright, sweetheart. Go get ‘im.”