Love Me Tender (25 page)

Then she said, “We'd like to tell Robin. Do you think that's okay? We don't want to stress her out too much. I know that losing Anita was really rough on her. Not that this is anything like that, but we've become friends and . . .” She trailed off.

“Rob's a strong girl,” Jessie said. “She's bighearted, as you know, and strong-minded.”

“I've seen all of that,” Cassidy said with a smile.

“She's also smart about figuring things out,” Evan put in.

“And she'll be hurt if she realizes she's been shut out,” Miriam said.

Dave nodded. Of course he wanted to protect his daughter, but it was inevitable that she'd find out.

Cassidy looked pale and strained. Sensing that she'd reached the end of her fragile rope, Dave stood and drew her to her feet. “It's time for us to go. We'll talk to Robin and—”

“Tomorrow night,” Cassidy said. “If you can keep the secret until then, that would be great. I want to tell her myself.” Her shoulders slumped, but she straightened them. “Next week, I'll tell everyone at the Wild Rose, and my other friends in town.”

Word would be out. The thing she feared would happen, and everyone would see her differently. As a damaged person. And—shit, this had only just occurred to him—they'd look at him that way too. Ever since Anita got sick, then died, he'd seen the pitying looks. He was the guy whose fiancée had died so tragically. Now here he was, by the side of another woman with a serious illness.

In the beginning, Cassidy had offered him something new and special: fun, lightheartedness, an escape from responsibility and from being that damaged guy. And now, through no fault of her own, she'd taken it all away.

His mom squeezed his arm. “Are you all right, dear?”

Startled, he gazed around to see that the others were getting organized to leave. Across the room, his father held Cassidy's jacket so she could slip her arms into it. “Yeah. This is hard, though.”

Her knowing eyes studied his face. “I bet it is. I'm proud of you for being there for your friend.”

The way she and Pops had raised him, he didn't have any other choice.

He gave her a hug, then joined Cassidy and they walked out to the Jeep.

She slumped back in the seat and closed her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, as okay as you can be right now?”

“Tired.” She sighed. “Very tired. But not nauseous, thank God. I think maybe, just maybe, the side effects of the drug are fading.”

Awkwardly, he said, “I don't know how to say this without pissing you off, but you handled that really well tonight.”

“Thanks. Maybe it'll get easier.”

“I hope so.” As he drove down toward the lights of town, they were both silent.

On the radio, Blake Shelton was singing “Mine Would Be You.” About that one special person. About how he'd rather die than lose her. Dave had felt that way about Anita, and he'd lost her all the same. But while she'd been alive, while they'd been together, she'd meant everything to him. Now maybe he was coming around to realizing, despite the lingering pain, that in a way he'd been blessed to have those feelings. Cassidy, with her will-o'-the-wisp lifestyle and refusal to let herself care too deeply, would miss out on something mighty fine.

As he drove through the outskirts of town, he said, “Where to? Want to come home with me?” He'd had Robin with him for the past couple of nights, so Cassidy had stayed at her place.

“Yes. No.” She huffed out a sigh. “I'm tired and I don't feel one bit sexy. And isn't that the story of my life these days? I'm sorry, Dave, I'm not much fun in bed.”

“We have our moments.” Sometimes they just curled up and slept together, occasionally she turned into a voracious temptress, and every now and then she seemed like the same old Cassidy. The latter were the times he liked the best. Though he had to admit, the temptress had taught him a trick or two.

Tonight, sex or no sex, he wanted to be with her. Though they'd squabbled on the drive to his parents', he admired the guts she'd demonstrated in talking to his family and her patience in answering questions and fielding comments that, though well intentioned, could easily have triggered her temper. He didn't want her to be alone tonight. What's more, he didn't want to be alone either. “Come home with me. No sex required. I'd just like to hold you.”

“I guess I wouldn't mind being held,” she said softly. Then she put her hand on his thigh and left it there until he parked at the Wild Rose.

 

 

Saturday evening, Dave held up the pizza server. “Who wants the last slice?” He glanced questioningly at his daughter, seated in her usual place across from him at the kitchen table, then at Cassidy, who sat between them.

“Too full, Dad,” his daughter said.

“Me too,” Cassidy said.

He knew she was lying. She'd eaten one slice but only picked at the second one he gave her. She was worrying about telling Robin her news.

Robin would be sad, concerned for Cassidy. No, none of this was fair. He rose to clear the table, Robin loaded the dishwasher, and Cassidy made a quick trip to the bathroom.

When she came back, Robin said, “Now we get to watch the movie?”

Cassidy had dropped by the library that afternoon and picked up
The Sound of Music
.

“Not quite yet,” she said, the high pitch of her voice betraying her nerves. “There's something I want to tell you. Sit down, Robin. You too, Dave.”

When they were all back around the table, Cassidy took Robin's hand. “I don't want you to get upset about this. It's not a big deal.”

“O-kay,” his daughter said dubiously, casting a quick glance at him.

“It's okay, Rob,” he assured her.

Cassidy went on. “You know how there's a girl in your class, Candy, who has diabetes?” Dave had told her this, suggesting it as a starting point for the discussion. At Robin's nod, she continued. “I have a disease too. It's nothing like what Anita had. It's more like diabetes. It's a nuisance, and I have to take meds, and that's the reason I've had some problems, like with my leg, and being tired. Some of it's the disease and some of it's side effects from the treatment.”

“But you're going to be okay?” his daughter asked anxiously.

“More or less.” Cassidy glanced at Dave, then said bluntly, “It's not going to kill me.” They had figured Robin would worry that Cassidy would end up like Anita. “I may have some more problems over time, or I may not. That's one of the weird things about this disease.”

“You're taking medicine,” Robin said slowly. “That's going to help, right?”

Dave said, “That's the plan, sweetheart. Like Cassidy said, this is really different from Anita's cancer. That was very serious and there was only a tiny chance that she could beat it. With Cassidy's disease, there's no actual cure right now, but even if they don't find one, she'll likely live as long as you or me. She's got a great health care team, including Dr. Young, and the treatment should slow the disease down so she has fewer problems.”

Robin had listened solemnly. “Does the treatment make you sick, Cassidy?”

“Not anything like chemotherapy did with Anita,” she assured her. “You know when I said I felt like I had the flu? That was from the treatment. But the side effects are easing off. I'm adjusting to the meds, and maybe soon there'll be no side effects at all.”

“That's good.” His daughter's face had lightened.

“It's not the least bit contagious,” Cassidy said. “I can't possibly pass it to anyone else.”

“What's it called, this disease you have?”

“Multiple sclerosis. People usually refer to it as MS.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Not for very long. I'm still learning about it. Anyhow, like I said, this isn't a big deal. But I wanted you to know. If I say I'm too tired to go riding, that's because of the MS. It's not that I don't want to.”

“Okay,” she said thoughtfully. “I'm sorry you got it.”

“Me too.”

His sharp-minded daughter asked a few more questions, which Cassidy answered honestly and calmly. She was so good with Robin, so patient and considerate. With wry humor, he thought that she saved her ire for him.

His daughter turned to him. “Does Mom know?”

He nodded. “We told Mom and Evan and all your grandparents last night.”

“I'm going to tell more people on Monday,” Cassidy said.

“So it's okay if I tell Kimiko and my other friends?”

Cassidy swallowed. “Sure. But let them know it's not a big deal.”

Robin nodded. “Like with Candy and her diabetes.” She rose and went to throw her arms around Cassidy in a tight hug. “I'm really, really sorry this happened to you.”

Cassidy hugged her back. “Me too, sweetie.”

“And I'm really, really glad you and Dad are dating.”

A pang of worry hit Dave. The adults in his family understood the concept of casual dating. Did Robin? She'd seen him married to her mom, then seen him with his fiancée.

The same concern must have occurred to Cassidy because she eased out of the hug, took Robin's face gently between her hands, and gazed into her eyes. “I'm glad we're dating too. Your dad is a wonderful friend.” She pressed her lips together, sent a questioning glance at Dave.

He shrugged helplessly. How did you explain “friends with benefits” to an eleven-year-old? He was way out of his depth.

Cassidy released Robin and started again. “You know how much your dad loved Anita?”

Robin cocked her head. “Course I do. I loved her too.”

“I know. Well, he loved her so much, he might never have another girlfriend like her. He'll have different kinds of friends, like me and Sally and Karen, and of course he'll always love your mom, but maybe his heart only has room for one special girlfriend like Anita.”

He nodded. There was—could only ever be—one Anita.

“You mean,” Robin said slowly, “like Kimiko's my best friend and if something happened to her, no one could take her place.”

On safer ground now, Dave said, “That's right, sweetheart, but it's not quite the same. A friend, even a really special one like Kimiko, is different from finding the one person who's your, uh”—he felt stupid using girly, romantic words, but all the same forced them out—“soul mate. I love your mom a great deal and always will. But with Anita it was like we were two halves of a whole. Totally compatible. Everything just clicked . . .” It had been irresistible; magic; the most amazing feeling in the world. “When you're older, you'll understand better.”

“Or not,” Cassidy mumbled under her breath, tilting a cynical eyebrow in his direction. Then, to Robin, she said, “Besides, as much as I like and respect your dad, I don't want a serious boyfriend.”

Robin frowned. “You don't believe in what Dad said? You don't think he and Anita were soul mates, or mom and Evan? Or Gramma Brooke and Jake, or—”

“Stop, stop,” Cassidy protested, holding up a hand, laughing a little. “I admit, Caribou Crossing breeds more than its fair share of soul mates. But not everyone finds that kind of relationship or is even looking for it. Like me.”

“But you live in Caribou Crossing too.”

Dave had to grin at his daughter's logic. His grin faded, though, when Cassidy said, “That's temporary. Once I get my treatment sorted out and have a handle on this disease, I'll be on the road again.”

“Why?” Robin turned a narrow-eyed gaze on Cassidy.

Dave always got nervous when his daughter turned that look on him.

“Why what?” Cassidy said warily.

“Why would you go? Where could you go that's anywhere near as nice as here?”

“Caribou Crossing is wonderful,” Cassidy said, “but you've heard me talk about some of the other places I've been. Watching baby loggerhead sea turtles hatching on a Carolina sea island. Whitewater rafting in the Grand Canyon. The world is full of so many wonders.”

“But
we're
here,” Robin protested.

That was what hurt. He and his daughter cared about Cassidy; she was special to them. Yet for her, they were no different from the dozens, maybe hundreds, of people she'd left behind as she wandered around the world. He knew the deficiency wasn't with him and Robin. Cassidy's parents had done such a number on her that she chose self-sufficiency and adventure over close personal relationships. Knowing didn't make the pain any less.

For a moment, Cassidy didn't respond. Then she tweaked Robin's nose. “And that's the very best part of Caribou Crossing. On the sea island, it was the baby turtles. Here, it's you guys.” Her gaze flicked to Dave's face, including him, then focused back on Robin. “People are different, Robin. We want different things out of life.”

“I guess.” She didn't sound convinced.

Cassidy said brightly, “Okay, I'm ready for popcorn and a movie. How about you two?”

Feeling depressed, Dave rose. “I'll get the popcorn. Rob, you go set up the DVD.”

When his daughter had gone, he put the popcorn in the microwave. Cassidy sat at the table, her shoulders rounded. When he first met her, her spine had always been straight, her head up, her eyes sparkling. She'd been an optimist. He hated the way MS had dampened her spark.

He came up behind her and rested a hand on one bowed shoulder. “You okay?”

Her shoulders lifted, then fell again. “Yeah. Robin was great.”