Mourning Becomes Cassandra (38 page)

“If he doesn’t dump you, what are you going to do?” whispered Phyl urgently. “DTR. Have your DTR.”

“Stay here!” I commanded. “If you leave, I have to decide how to act, but if you stay, he has to.” With one last smoothing of my sweater and hair, I went to get the door.

When I opened it, I quickly took a step back into the entryway, to moot the question of hugging or not hugging. “Hi, James.” He was wearing the sweater I’d given him, which either meant he wasn’t going to dump me or else that he was and wanted to be a jerk about it. When his gray eyes met mine, I thought he probably looked as uncertain as I did.

“Hey there, Cass,” he said after a pause. “Your phone must be dead, or something. I’ve been trying to reach you the last couple days. Didn’t you get my email?”

“Umm, no,” I replied. Having totally shut down my computer in disgust, I hadn’t received anyone’s emails. “Did you want to come in? The girls and I were just putting away the Christmas stuff.”

Awkwardly he followed me into the house where Joanie accosted him with a hearty greeting and Phyl smiled gently from up on the step ladder.

“Did you have a nice time in Richland?” I asked brightly, giving the tree skirt some smart shakes to clean off the pine needles.

“Oh—er—yes,” he replied. “That is, it was a typical family visit: good to see everyone but maybe a few days too long. How was your time here with your family?”

“Fine. My parents and brother only stayed until the 27
^th
, so there was lots of activity and then some peace and quiet.”

“And then you had a pretty rousing New Year’s Eve,” put in Joanie, earning a dirty look from me.

“What happened New Year’s Eve?” asked James.

I focused on the container I was packing, trying to think about innocuous things so I wouldn’t blush. Things like organic broccoli and parking spaces. “Oh, well, Daniel had an office party, and I agreed to go along with him as a decoy, so he wouldn’t be harassed by other women.” Not that I was very effective, I thought. “What did you do New Year’s Eve?”

Ah ha! From his averted eyes and shifting around, that was definitely a subject he wanted to avoid. “Went to a party as well. What would you girls like to do with the Christmas tree? Can I carry it outside for you?”

“Thank you,” exclaimed Phyl eagerly, partly to cover the fact that Joanie was nudging me. “If you could just bring it out to the curb, I’ll saw it up later for the yard waste bin.”

“If you just show me where the saw is, I can do that too,” offered James, coming forward with alacrity.

After he and Phyl got the tree out of the stand and wrangled it out the front door, trailing pine needles, Joanie pounced on me. “Did you see his face when you asked about New Year’s? You better get to the bottom of that, girlie. Five bucks says he did something naughty and he’s going to ask your forgiveness, and ten bucks says you’ll give it to him.”

“Shut up, Joanie,” I growled. “He doesn’t have to ask my forgiveness because we don’t even have an official status.”

“But if you made out with Daniel, New Year’s Eve, wouldn’t you feel like you had to say something to James?”

“I didn’t make out with Daniel,” I protested, unable to prevent a blush this time.

“Just mist. Nothing a good Northwest girl like you would mind.” Crud. Phyl met my eyes sympathetically, but there was nothing for it but to put on my coat and go outside with James.

If we had ever found it easy to chat with each other, you would never guess it, watching us walk up the hill. He kept glancing at me, and I kept glancing at him, unable to think of what to say. Maybe Phyl was right, and we just had to have it out. Gathering my courage in true college fashion, I was on the verge of asking him what the heck was going on, if in fact anything was going on, when James spoke first. “So, you went to a New Year’s Eve party with Daniel?”

“Technically, yes,” I said. Inward cringes—what made me say that? It sounded defensive. Was I defensive?

I kicked at some fir twigs littering the sidewalk. “I was sorry not to hear from you very much,” I confessed, not looking at him. “Not that you owed me phone calls or anything. I just—it would have been nice—I was just sorry about it.”

“I was going to call you Christmas Day,” he began, but I cut him off.

“Please, you don’t need to make excuses—”

“Well, I’d like to explain myself,” he said. “You can ignore me if you want to, but indulge me.” He gave me his quirky little smile, and, suppressing a sigh, I nodded. “Like they always do, my family closed in on me the second I got there. Everyone was at the house: aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, nieces, nephew, parents—and my little sister’s friend Jen who—hey!—just happened to have moved back to town.” (I could see where this was going. Looked like I owed Joanie five bucks.) “I’d actually kind of had a thing for Jen in high school because she was one of those cute, popular types that band geeks like me were always doomed to fall for. Well, Jen was back with her parents in Richland because she’d just gotten a divorce, and she and my little sister Amy are thick as thieves again. To make a long story medium, Jen confessed she’d supposedly always had a thing for me as well, and on Christmas Eve, in the general spirit of conviviality, we kissed.”

The “general spirit of conviviality” my eye! I suppose I would have to say Daniel kissed me New Year’s Eve “in the general spirit of conviviality,” but that was just it.
He
kissed me. I hadn’t kissed him and had, in fact, been taken totally off guard. If Nadina were here, she would tell James he was full of it. But maybe not. She took loads of it from Mike.

So this was a breakup conversation, then.

“I knew it was a stupid move,” James continued, when I didn’t say anything. “I told her right afterward that I was seeing someone.” I made a noise in my throat, but he went on hurriedly. “But I was too embarrassed then to call you on Christmas because I felt like crap. I didn’t want to lose your respect. Jen was everywhere the rest of the week. I didn’t slip up again and even had an argument with my mom about it. You know how irrational they are about wanting to plan my life. Jen looked like a godsend to Mom and Amy and Melissa, and they didn’t want to hear that I had other ideas.” Especially if those ideas involved an older widow. Ugh.

“James,” I said, stopping. We were at the top of the hill, from which you could see the lake and, in the foggy distance, the tops of the skyscrapers in downtown Seattle. With just this minor change in altitude, the mist had turned to tiny snowflakes. “Thank you for telling me, even though you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to,” he replied, in a harder voice. He reached for my hand, but I took a quick step back.

“You didn’t have to,” I repeated. “You don’t owe me explanations and phone calls and—and whatnot. It was, kind of crazy before Christmas, wasn’t it? I mean, between us. I think it would be better if we just go back to being—being…colleagues. I mean, we’re all wrong—” I didn’t get any further in my breakup speech because James grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me, hard. Gasping, I tried to shove him away.

“Cass, don’t do this,” he murmured against my ear. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” I demanded, jerking free from him.

He laughed humorlessly. “Don’t dump me, for one. And for another, don’t tell me I don’t owe you anything. What I did was wrong. I wronged Jen by kissing her because I don’t give a damn about her, and I wronged you because I never want to hurt you.”

“James—”

“No,” he interrupted. “No, I’m not going to let you be practical and rational and tell me we shouldn’t be together. If you can stand me, I’m asking you to forgive me. Forgive me for losing my head for a minute and acting against my own interests. It won’t happen again. Because I’m—I’m crazy about you, Cass.”

“Well?” demanded Joanie a half hour later, when I came back in and was hanging up my coat.

I felt the warmth rise to my cheeks as I blushed. “I owe you fifteen bucks.”

“Dude, this sucks,” complained Nadina, collapsing on one of the walnut-stained pews lining the hallway.

“Get your muddy butt off of there!” I ordered. “I just wiped that one down.”

“I’ll wipe it again after I take a nap,” she moaned. “God, I feel like shit. I think I must be getting the flu.”

Camden School was kicking off the second semester with an all-school service project. Through the first couple weeks of the new year, heavy rains pummeled western Washington, leading to flooding in communities that fronted the many rivers crisscrossing the area. Rivers with delightful Native American names that tripped up newscasters and stymied those new to the area: the Puyallup, Stillaguamish, Duwamish, Skookumchuck. Among the many structures flooded was the tiny Community of Friends Church in Snoqualmie, and Camden School volunteered to do some post-disaster clean-up for them.

If Community of Friends’ brisk, all-business Pastor Anne had any second thoughts when she saw the crew of pierced and dyed and otherwise ornamented teenagers getting off the bus, she kept them to herself, and Mark Henneman was quick to barrel out and get her all buttered up. It helped that we had almost as many adults as kids, counting staff and several of the mentors and volunteers.

Church members had already pressure-washed the exterior, but the receding flood waters had left a wainscoting of guck all through the interior of the building and covered the floors and furnishings in a muddy scunge.

“Gross!” said Nadina, two shades too loudly. “This place looks like hell. And what is that heinous stink?”

Pastor Anne only laughed. “Yeah, it’s awful, isn’t it? The Bible doesn’t talk about what it must have smelled like or looked like for Noah and his family, after the waters receded.”

“Who?” said Nadina.

“Noah, like in Noah’s Ark, you friggin’ idiot,” supplied Sonya.

With that, Pastor Anne divided us into work teams. People with skills like Kyle and James got to stay clean and set up the church’s new computer system, while the rest of us spent the morning slogging around with steam cleaners, wet-dry vacs, mops, blowers, and fans. Nadina didn’t last long. By dint of constant prodding and nagging, I got her to help me move and clean off several pews before she collapsed in her present exhaustion.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” I demanded. “You’re not usually this lazy.”

“I’m telling you, Cass, I’ve got the flu,” she whined. “Feel my head—am I hot?”

Since this particular pew was already messed up, I flopped on it beside her, pretty pooped myself. “Did you and Mike stay up late last night, doing anything you shouldn’t have?”

Nadina groaned. “Not even. I was passed out by friggin’ nine o’clock, and I told you, Mike’s gone straight. He’s done everything the judge told him, even gone to that stupid drug treatment thing and thrown away his pipes and stuff.”

If this was true, it was good news. Maybe God was hearing my prayers for that knucklehead. “Did he talk much about his week in jail?”

“No, other than to say it sucked.”

“How about the fine? How is he going to pay that?” I persisted. Glimpsing Mark Henneman passing by at the end of the hallway, I popped back up guiltily and started scrubbing at the pew again.

She shrugged. “God, Cass, you really got Henneman to dish the dirt, didn’t you? You probably know more about it than I do. Mike’s dad lent him the money for now, but says he’s got six months to pay him back and to start paying rent, or he’s kicking us out.” Mike’s dad was suddenly getting a backbone?

I had to tread carefully here, but at least in her flu-induced exhaustion, Nadina didn’t seem to have her usual guard up. “So will you each pay rent, or will you pay the rent?”

Up went the guard. “Are you asking if he’s going to try to steal from me again? Didn’t I tell you he’s going straight? He told me he might need to borrow from me now and then, but he’s going to get a job and pay it all back.”

“What kind of job?” I asked innocently.

Nadina seemed to be weighing her words. “Well…since he’s so good with music and stuff, I was thinking maybe James could use him at his company, like he hired Kyle.” Yeah, and at this rate, they might need to rename the company Felon Universe.

Keeping my voice noncommittal I said, “I’m sure Mike is welcome to apply, if they’re hiring.”

She sat up abruptly. “Aw, come on, Cass. You know you have an in with James because he’s totally gone on you! I thought if
you
asked him, he’d be sure to give Mike a chance.”

“He’s not totally gone on me,” I objected primly, hoping I wasn’t blushing. “We’ve just gone on a few dates—”

“Bullshit, Cass! You don’t think I’ve noticed you guys checking each other out whenever you’re together? He always looks like he totally wants to jump you.”

Now I was scarlet. “People like James and me don’t go around ‘jumping each other.’” I could have said more, but I figured now was not the time or place to go into Christian sexual ethics.

“Yeah, right,” muttered Nadina.

“In any case,” I said in a louder voice, “I am not going to interfere with how they run their business. I didn’t tell him to hire Kyle—that was James’ idea because he’s Kyle’s mentor and because Kyle had some skills they needed.” Nadina threw herself back on the pew, muttering imprecations against me and covering her eyes with the back of her arm. “The most I’ll do is pass on that Mike knows a lot about music—did you tell Mike you were putting me up to this?” I asked, as the thought hit me.