Authors: Liz Fenton
“What’s done is done,” Casey says flatly.
“Not necessarily,” I answer. “These past few weeks, he’s really opened his heart back up.”
“Yeah, to you! He seems to like the Rachel-ized version of me much better than the real Casey.” She laughs nervously and we both know she’s not kidding.
“Well, yes, but it’s you he’s in love with.” As I say it, I realize how foolish I’ve been to think that what Charlie and I have is real. For him, it will always be Casey. And that’s the way
it should be. “The only thing I did was let him back in. The question is, can you do the same when you get back into your body?”
“I think I can.” She rubs her temples. “If we ever figure out how to do that.”
“We will, I promise,” I say, and mean it. Then I put my arms around her and try to be there for her the way I wasn’t so many years ago, the way I have really never been.
CHAPTER 31
casey
“How many more?” Audrey groans as she slaps another personalized label on the mini Moët & Chandon champagne bottles we’re giving as party favors for John’s surprise party this weekend.
Let’s toast to the birthday boy!
printed on the side of each one. Rachel and I thought it would be cute to give the guests something to toast with, since that’s what got us into this whole body-switching mess in the first place. It was our own little inside joke.
I check my list. “About twenty,” I answer and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. It had been a few days since the dance and she seemed to be bouncing back well. I thought that kicking Chris’ ass in the hotel room had even given her a quiet strength I hadn’t seen before. Or maybe I was just looking at her differently now. Either way, her main concern had been about what Chris would say to her at school the next week, what he would tell his friends, or worse yet, what he would post on Facebook. But to her surprise, he walked up on Monday morning and
apologized, and begged her to forgive him; she reluctantly agreed to just so he would leave her alone. “It was crazy, Mom!” she said breathlessly after bursting through the door after school as I was giving Charlotte a bath. “It was as if he was scared of me!” She held up her arm and flexed her muscles. “I guess I’m tougher than I thought,” she murmured proudly.
I tickled Charlotte’s naked tummy and she giggled in delight. “You certainly are,” I said to Audrey as I wrapped Charlotte in a hooded ducky towel.
“It’s just so weird. What could have changed his attitude so much?” Audrey took Charlotte out of my hands and carried her expertly to her room to dress her.
“I have no idea,” I called out as she pranced down the hall. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and sent a quick text to Rachel:
The eagle has landed
.
My phone vibrated a moment later:
Good work. I owe you one.
I smiled to myself before responding:
The pleasure was all mine.
I grab my notebook with the RSVPs for John’s party and flip back a few pages to read the word we wrote down when we met Jordan, the psychic.
Promotion
. What did it mean? Rachel and I had a major breakthrough the other night. But was it enough? And what does a promotion have to do with it? I shake my head and put the notebook back on the table as my phone vibrates again. Another text from Rachel:
Hey, tough girl, I’m coming to dinner tonight.
I laugh and think back to Sunday afternoon. I told John and the girls that I was heading to the store, but as soon as I was in the car, I pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with Chris McNies’ address on it. After a long discussion, Rachel and I
decided to let Audrey tell John what had happened, when she was ready. In the meantime, she simply told him that Mr. Popular was really a jerk and that she had decided not to date him, or even be friends with him. Maybe the fact that my own mother never breathed a word to my Dad about what happened to me made me adamant that John should know. Back then, I’d felt relief that my own father didn’t know, but now, looking back, I wish he had; perhaps then he would have been able to comfort me instead of being perplexed by my sudden withdrawal and inexplicable sullenness.
So even though I was relieved when Audrey agreed it was important for her father to know, that she’d confide in him when she felt he’d be receptive to handling it, that wasn’t enough for me. Of course I was proud of Audrey and I respected her wishes—but I knew I had to take an action of my own.
The next day, I pulled up to Chris’ house. Even though there was a chill in the morning air, the fog from the beach still blanketing the sky, he was standing shirtless in the driveway washing his shiny black Land Rover. It was a scene out of a bad movie, him soaping up, his tan arms reaching up over the hood in circular motions. Usually, the cougar in me would have loved every minute of the show, but now all I saw was an asshole who had tried to hurt someone I loved dearly. And I was here to make sure he never did it again. To anyone.
Chris eyed me walking up the driveway, set the hose down, and smiled his most charming smile. “Hi, Mrs. Cole. Can I help you?” His smile made my anger boil and I tried to remain calm.
“How was the dance, Chris?”
He smiled smugly. “Just lovely. I think Audrey had a great time.”
I clenched my fists.
Keep calm, Casey.
“Oh, really? Is that what you think? Do you consider date rape a great time?”
“Whoa.” He put his hand up in the air. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I caught a flash of fear behind his piercing blue eyes and wondered if anyone had ever called this kid on his shit before.
“I think you do.” I took a step closer to him, causing him to back up against the soapy vehicle.
“I don’t know what Audrey told you, but she’s a liar. And a tease,” he added under his breath.
“Oh, is that what you’re going to tell all your friends next week at school?” I said, moving even closer.
“Maybe,” he said defiantly.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, ignoring the water from the hose drenching my sandals. It was all I could do not to punch him in the face. “Listen here, you spoiled brat. You’re going to go to school tomorrow and tell everyone that Audrey doesn’t like you because you are a douche bag and she is too good to be around you.”
“And if I don’t?” He tried to inch away but I grabbed his arm and he winced as I dug my nails in. I prayed that his parents didn’t come out while I was accosting their son.
“Then I’m going to call Audrey’s Aunt Casey. You know, Casey Lee, the celebrity? She has over four hundred thousand Twitter followers. Did you know that?”
Chris shakes his head and glances around, desperately looking for a way out.
“If you don’t apologize to my daughter first thing Monday morning, Casey is going to let the whole world know what you did.” I look over at his mailbox. “Oh, and she’ll be sure to
include your phone number and home address so everyone can let you know how they feel about it too.”
Chris laughed nervously. “You wouldn’t do that.”
I grasped my hand tighter on his arm and he flinched. “Do you want to bet life as you know it on that? Tomorrow. Apology. Or else. Got it?”
“Got it,” he whispered.
I drove away, tears streaming down my face, my hands shaking on the wheel. Telling Chris off was liberating, like I had finally exorcised the demon of my own past. But the real reason for my tears was joy. I finally knew the feeling of loving someone more than I loved myself.
“Earth to Mom,” Audrey calls to me as she holds out another tiny champagne bottle.
“Sorry,” I say, smiling as I take it from her and put it into the box that I’ll take over to the venue later today. Charlotte crawls over and climbs into my lap. “Want to help Mommy make presents for Daddy’s party?” I ask, and she gives me the same amused smile she does whenever I call myself Mommy.
John, it seems, has no idea about his surprise party. He is under the impression we’re going to have dinner as a family at the restaurant in the hotel. Little does he know that one hundred of his friends will be there. I wonder if Rachel thought that throwing this party would be a way to bring them closer together, or maybe she hoped a grand gesture might wake John up from the fog he had been in. I thought about my own time with him, watching the John I once knew emerge from underneath the uninterested, aloof man who was here when I first arrived. I couldn’t wait to hand him back over to Rachel; I was out of excuses, in terms of dodging his advances.
It was time to get back to my own life, and Rachel and I
had made a pact to make figuring out how to switch back our number-one priority after the party. For the first time since this all happened, I actually felt like she was ready to come back to her own life, and despite the fact that I would miss the little things, like Charlotte’s sweet kisses and Audrey and Sophie’s witty banter at breakfast each morning, I needed to reclaim my own body so I could make some major changes to my life. First up? Telling Charlie how very wrong I was that night and beg for his forgiveness.
The slam of the front door jolts me from my thoughts as I turn to see Rachel walk in with a bottle of my favorite cabernet. “Aunt Casey!” the girls cry and run over to give her a hug. She grabs two glasses from the cabinet and fills them high before handing one to me. “To taking care of business,” she toasts me with a sly smile and glances over at Audrey. “Thank you,” she adds quietly.
“Anytime,” I say before clinking her glass one more time. “To friendship,” I add.
Rachel takes a huge swig of her wine. “I’ll drink to that!”
CHAPTER 32
rachel
Promotion.
Why hadn’t I told Casey that I might have figured out what the psychic meant? Maybe it’s because I know the gravity of what the word means—that I hold Casey’s career and our fates in my hands. But there’s no turning back now, I think as I push open the heavy oak conference room door and walk in, the network executives’ eyes fixed on me.
“Casey.” Ava rises and stretches her long fingers my way. Her acrylic nails are a bright shade of red, like Charlotte’s lips after she eats a handful of strawberries. Charlotte. I push the image of her chubby cheeks and big blue eyes out of my mind and take Ava’s hand in mine, giving her a firm shake, hoping she doesn’t notice I’m trembling. The other two execs stand and we exchange pleasantries.
“Coffee?” Ava’s assistant asks me, a look of fear in her eyes, the dark circles under them betraying the cost of working for Ava. I think of her boss’s persistence these past few weeks; the
phone calls, the emails, the demands that I give her a decision.
Am I easy to work for? I wonder, watching Destiny as she taps away on her iPad with one hand and reads an email on her BlackBerry with the other, my Starbucks coffee nestled between her knees. I’m not sure what Destiny thinks of me here, but I know I’m not easy at home. I’ve been way too hard on the girls, especially Audrey, holding on to her so tightly that I’ve failed to notice she’s no longer a girl, but a young woman. And John. I’d disappeared so far into myself since Charlotte was born that he couldn’t even see me anymore.
I force a smile and shake my head no, motioning toward Destiny and my coffee.
“So, Casey, here we are.” Ava taps her pen on the sleek mahogany tabletop.
“Yes, here we are,” I repeat, thinking again that I can change my mind. I can get up right now and leave and never look back. For some reason, the exterior of my house flashes in my mind. I see the white shutters, the front door we painted red because it was good feng shui, the ivy-covered lattice, the flower beds blooming with tulips. It’s an adorable home. But why hadn’t I seen it that way before? I used to look at it and see only the chipped paint, the dent on the garage door, the weeds that needed to be pulled. But now I feel a deep hole forming inside me as I think I might lose it forever.
“I’m just going to cut to the chase here. You going or not?” Ava gives me a cold stare and I sit up a little straighter, suddenly remembering my eighth-grade English teacher who would wait forever for you to answer a question if she called on you. Once, one of my poor classmates, a painfully shy redhead who spoke about three words to me in all the time I knew her, was called on to answer a question about something we were supposed to
have read the night before. We all watched her shift uncomfortably in her seat until she finally started crying and admitted she hadn’t done her homework. I felt like her now, like Ava wouldn’t so much as blink until I gave her an answer—any answer.
“Yes, I’m going,” I finally say. My heart is beating so hard in my chest that I inhale sharply through my nose to try to steady it.
“I’m—well, we—we are so pleased.” Ava claps her hands together like a hungry seal and the two other execs start typing away feverishly on their smartphones. No doubt telling their lawyers to draw up the contract immediately before I change my mind.
Suddenly Ava’s assistant appears with a bottle of Moët & Chandon and pops it, the cork flying across the room, everyone erupting in a fit of nervous laughter. I bite back my tears and decide what’s done is done.
I reach for a paper cup full of champagne as I watch the room bustling with activity. Ava’s on the phone chirping away about logistics. Destiny and Ava’s assistant are chatting excitedly. I can’t help but smile at Destiny, knowing this is part of her dream too. She has ambitions beyond being an assistant and she’s talented enough to realize them. She helped Casey get to this place and she deserves to bask in this moment. This New York move will be huge for her.
This is for you, Casey,
I think as I hold up the cup. This is for the baby you never got to have, for the family you never started. For all the hard work you put into your career to get to this place. For putting up with Dean and Fiona and all this TV bullshit. And I will sacrifice whatever I must to give you what you deserve. I wasn’t there during a time in your life when you really needed me, but I can be your champion now. I drain my cup and eagerly accept a refill from a round-faced woman who
appeared after hearing there was alcohol at 10 a.m. She winks at me and takes off down the hall with the champagne bottle before anyone else notices.