Mourning Becomes Cassandra (49 page)

Had Murray then proceeded to bemoan my loss, I imagine I would have caved then and there and started coming in a couple times a week again, but Murray had always been stony in his disapproval of office flirtation, and he continued to eat his cake now, making no show of mourning.

I scraped the frosting off my cake to give me a moment to think. “Just a little more time, okay?” I asked. “I’ll start coming in again, but just give me a little more time.”

So that was all I saw of James in two months. But now, for Nadina’s birthday, a large group of us, including her friends and their mentors, would be meeting at Red Robin for dinner. It wasn’t an official Camden School mentor activity, mind you, because I was no longer an official Camden School mentor, but it was close enough. Who knew what Mark Henneman had told the rest of the mentors—he had to say something to them, what with Nadina’s and my disappearance from the group and her increasingly obvious pregnancy—but exactly what he said was a mystery to me, since I was now out of the loop.

The restaurant was unusually crowded for a Tuesday night, it seemed to me. Being on pins and needles waiting for James to show up with Kyle, I barely managed to converse with Louella. At least I cleverly arranged to be at one end of the table so there wouldn’t be any open seats next to me, but when James and Kyle and Ray and Tan showed up, all the girls shrieked and rearranged themselves, abandoning me at the end so that James had to take the empty chair beside me, after all. It was so noisy, moreover, that he and I were effectively isolated. We managed to make dogged conversation about work, Kyle’s progress on his community service and fines, the weather, for Pete’s sake.

When the food came we could eat, at least, and Ray across the table occupied James’ attention for some time with a mini-tirade against people nowadays spending more of their time living the lives of their video-game avatars than they did living the real thing, a rant James heard out with his usual patience and focused attention.

It was a relief when the food and ice cream and singing waiters were dispensed with, and we turned our attention to roasting Nadina and watching her open a few gifts. Plenty of jokey, cold-weather clothes for Cleveland; a picture frame from Sonya saying “Love” that held a picture of a guy in a Hamburglar-style convict outfit; a stethoscope for her to use on dogs.

The party broke up soon after. Taking leave generally of everyone and avoiding James’ eyes, I helped Nadina stuff the gifts in her backpack, walked her out to the bus stop and waited with her until the bus came. When she was safely on, I stood watching it driving away, resting my forehead against the cool pole.

“Cass?”

Glancing around quickly, I couldn’t make out where the voice came from until a figure emerged from the shadows. I recognized the precise movements before anything else. “Hello, James.”

Not knowing what else to do, I followed him to his car. It was hard not to hope just a little bit on the ride home that he missed me and maybe wanted to get back together, but he didn’t speak. When we pulled up in the driveway, I ventured, “Would you like to come in for a minute?”

He shook his head. “Thank you, no. I just wanted to say that I hope we can get over this awkward stage. No hard feelings, you know.”

“No, no,” I agreed hastily. “No hard feelings.”

“I was glad you came into the office for the cake last month, but I hope you’ll feel free to come in as frequently as you used to. Riley’s been pretty clear that he works better with you that way.”

“Yes,” I replied vaguely. “I’ve been busy with things, but I told Riley and Jeri I would be getting back into the routine when life settled down some.” As in, when my awkwardness and lingering feelings for James settled down some.

A pause. “Cass, I’m seeing someone else now.” My stomach sank. Crud. Not missing me, then. “I wanted to tell you before you heard from anyone else.”

“Thank you,” I answered, unclenching my hands and sitting on them so my disappointment wouldn’t be so obvious. “What’s—what’s her name?”

“Mira. She’s great. Maybe one day you could meet her.” Oh, yeah, that sounded like fun. “How are things going with Nadina and the adoption?” he went on.

“Okay, so far. She’s healthy, the baby’s healthy. There might be a hitch getting Mike to sign the adoption consent form, but we’ll deal with that later. Thank you for asking.”

“How about your living situation?”

“Oh, I’ve got a couple months yet,” I replied. “I’ll probably move in the summer. She’s not due until September, but I’ll need some time to get set up and to find someone to replace me at the Palace.”

“Will you live on your own?”

His questions were starting to stress me out because I had put off thinking about them. “I don’t know yet. I was even thinking I might ask Louella if she would mind having us underfoot. If I could find a housemate who wouldn’t mind a baby, it’d be nice to have adult company.” As soon as I said it I blushed, thinking he might misconstrue that comment as a hint or a reproach.

He fiddled with the cuff of his sweater. “Why not just stay with Joanie and Phyl and…Daniel?”

I smiled ruefully. “If it were just Joanie and Phyl I would in a heartbeat, even though they’ll probably get married eventually. I wish I could…I love it here. But can you imagine Daniel? I wouldn’t even have the nerve to ask.”

What was he getting at, for crying out loud? Did James suspect Daniel had a thing for me, too? I was not going to deal with this. I could not deal with this. “We’re friends,” I said firmly. “We’ve become friends.”

“Does he know that?”

“Where exactly are we going with this discussion?” I demanded. When he didn’t answer, I reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride home, James. I’ll see you around.”

Before I could get out, his hand was on my arm, detaining me. “Don’t be annoyed, Cass. I know it’s none of my business anymore, but I can’t help caring what happens to you.” His gray eyes were apologetic. “I couldn’t—be who you wanted me to be, but I want you to be happy.”

Feeling an ominous lump in my throat, I nodded and got out.

The Palace was streaming with light, and the sound of voices and laughter greeted me at the door. Joanie had told me after Easter that, in the spirit of new beginnings, she was giving up her dating hiatus, so this must be the result. Or maybe Daniel had given up his, too. Not feeling super social after seeing James, I made to slide past the kitchen doorway and head upstairs, but Joanie called me, her voice warm and thrilled. “Cass! Look who just got here.”

Before I turned I knew who it was—why else would she sound so excited? Perry. He jumped up from his barstool to give me one of his bear hugs.

“We’re celebrating and mourning!” he crowed, pointing at the wine bottle Daniel was opening. “Come join us.”

“What are we mourning and what are we celebrating?” I asked, my voice still unsteady, letting him lead me to the table. It was only my housemates and Perry after all. I didn’t look at Daniel.

“Such an optimist,” teased Perry. “If you want to get the mourning over with, we’re mourning the fact that my divorce is final, and Betsy and I are truly history— ” My eyes met Joanie’s over my wineglass as she filled it—it looked like she at least was moving on to the celebrating. “And also that my dear sister Cassandra has been soundly dumped by Sweet Baby James—”

“Unless he repented tonight..?” prompted Joanie.

“A hardened sinner,” I answered lightly. “He’s already dating someone new.” To forestall their reactions I added, “And what are we celebrating?”

“Well, for one thing, we are celebrating my new niece or nephew—”

“Nephew,” I said, eliciting cheers. “And one who looks perfectly healthy and almost five months along.”

“And for another,” continued Perry when we quieted down, “I’ve been offered a part in a new regional production of the much-acclaimed
Waiters: the Musical,
that of Gaspar of the High-End Restaurant.”

“Was Gaspar the one played by that hammy understudy who got trashed by the
Oregonian
?” I asked dubiously.

“The very same, so I hope to improve on his performance.”

“In Portland?” asked Joanie.

“No, no—a new regional production up in Bellingham,” said Perry, “which brings me to my third cause for celebration: Cass and I are moving in together!”

“We’re
what
?” I gasped into the sudden silence. “Where?”

“In Bellingham, of course,” replied Perry matter-of-factly, oblivious to the reactions around us. “You and my nephew need a new home; I’m tired of living with randoms off of Craig’s List; all we have is each other—it’s perfect.”

“You—you can’t steal Cass!” sputtered Joanie.

“I’m not stealing her,” objected Perry. “Bellingham isn’t that far, and wouldn’t you rather have her live with me than that old lady from church she was going to hit up?”

“At least Louella Murphy lives in Bellevue,” Joanie insisted. “And Cass’s friends are here, and her church is here, and her job—”

“Are you honestly going to keep working for Free Universe, if you’ve got to see that James hanging around all the time?” Perry turned on me. “That must be awkward as all get out.”

“It will only get less awkward, as time goes on,” argued Joanie. “If she even continues with it, but what’s she going to do in Bellingham? There are more jobs here than in Bellingham, and her adoption lawyer’s in Seattle.”

“Why do you have to move out?” asked Daniel, right next to me. This was too much! When did my life become something decided in committee? Everyone had a plan for me and an opinion on how best to run my life: James, Perry, Joanie. God, for that matter.

“Stop it!” I cried, pushing my untouched wineglass away. “All of you!”

It was unjust to Phyl, who had said nothing, and to Daniel, who did address me directly, but I included them in my general hand wave. “Stop planning my life and making decisions for me as if I weren’t here—I have to make them myself! This isn’t a group decision. I love you all, but I have to do it myself. Please.”

To my chagrin, I felt the tears that had been so near the surface all evening threatening at the back of my eyes. Before they could spill out, I tried to get out of the kitchen as fast as I could, shoving Daniel out of the way and running for the stairs. The last thing I heard before slamming my bedroom door behind me was the emptiness of their stunned silence.

Everyone gave me some space after that.

My brother returned to Portland after a few days; Joanie worked hard to swallow all the things she wanted to say (seeming to find it easier now that she knew Perry was moving closer); I continued to avoid Free Universe visits and James.

In the meantime, spring had truly arrived. The plants recognized its advent long before the weather, which continued gray and cool and rainy even as May drew to a close. Acting on some unseen cue in March, everything began growing like mad. The ornamental cherries and plums lining the streets burst into snowy blossoms followed by new leaves, the grass grew an inch every night, it seemed, and Phyl’s painstakingly-planted bulbs exploded in blocks of vivid tulips and waving daffodils. When the sun finally did emerge one Sunday near Memorial Day, beaming down upon us from a cloudless blue sky, the world felt new-made, fresh from the hand of the Creator.

I walked home from service slowly, drinking it in. It was so warm that I pulled off my cotton cardigan, letting the sun play on my bare arms. If only it could stay like this forever, or at least till October. On such a day, it seemed a shame to spend even a moment indoors, so when I reached the Palace I let myself through the side gate into the backyard, there to lean on the deck railing with my eyes shut. Vitamin D. I am making Vitamin D.

Perhaps five minutes later I heard the sound of the Lean-To door opening, but I didn’t open my eyes. The railing flexed as Daniel leaned against it.

Time to face facts, I guessed.

“You could, of course, stay here.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, but without preface, as if he were just continuing the kitchen conversation from a couple weeks ago. “There’s plenty of room in the house.”

Reluctantly I opened my eyes. Hard to say which was more blinding, the sudden glare of the sunshine or him, closer than I thought. Although his voice was light, I could see his hands gripping the deck railing as he stood with his back against it.

It was what I had not even allowed myself to hope for, loving the Palace and Joanie and Phyl and even him, as I did. But it troubled me that he would offer. “Daniel—”

“If you move out, Cass, it wouldn’t be the same here anymore,” he interrupted.

“Daniel,” I began again. “If I stay here, with the baby, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. I’ve—I’ve had a baby before. Min turned my life upside down—she turned the house upside down, for Pete’s sake. You don’t know what you’re saying, not that I don’t appreciate the offer and the mark of friendship.” He exhaled sharply, but I pressed on, anxious to lay all the objections before him so he could withdraw his offer gracefully. “I know Joanie and Phyl wouldn’t mind—they’ve told me so—but who knows how long Phyl can hold out before she says yes to Wayne, and the same could be true for Joanie, if she would only just pick someone. If I stayed with the baby, how could you ever get new people to rent? And what would you tell your girlfriends? It’s too bizarre. And if you decided it wasn’t working, you’d feel bad kicking a lady and a baby out. It’s too much to ask of you—I mean, you’ve never even wanted to be married, much less have kids.”