Cassie
I almost didn’t survive when Grady left.
Every single day I opened my eyes to pain and walked through a fog, only able to do the bare minimum to get the kids taken care of. There were days I dropped them off at school and day care, turned the car around, drove home, and spent the next five or six hours sobbing in my room with the shades pulled.
My sad cocoon
, I always thought of it. Dark, safe, alone.
The way my chest tightens when Grady says he’s not living one more day without me makes me want to shove him away and isolate myself, even though I haven’t had a sad cocoon day in years.
What does he even mean?
How can something that was ruptured, decimated, obliterated at the cellular level ever exist again?
Does he think we can re-create love and trust out of thin air?
Is he fucking crazy?
“Stop,” I whisper. His fingers pause in the hollow of my throat, but he doesn’t take them away.
“Cass,” he pleads softly.
“Please.” I can’t look at him. If I look at him, even for a second, I will undo everything I worked for over the past eleven years. I will lose the battle for resolve and my dignity and my common sense and all the things I lost and had to find again.
Grady might be sure that he doesn’t want to live without me one more day, but the only thing I’m sure of is that I want to leap out of my skin. He’s too close. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I stand frozen against the wall as if pinned there by his fingers like some dying moth.
“Okay,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, Cass.” His fingers are gone and I feel the loss of them like ice in my veins, but I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“You’re not,” I lie.
“Please don’t lie to me.”
“Fine. You are. You’re freaking me out.” My voice trembles with the effort it takes to even speak. “Is that what you want to hear?”
He sighs. “If it’s honest, then yeah.
Fuck
.” Rubbing his forehead, he steps back, into the doorway, as if to show me he’s not a threat.
But he’s still a threat. To my sanity, to my heart, to my traitorous body that won’t stop keening for his touch, Grady is public enemy number one.
“I’m gonna go,” he says after a moment. “I think… Yeah. I’m gonna go.” He taps the door frame twice, turns, and heads back down the hallway. I hear his measured steps in the kitchen before the front door opens and closes, and I realize he was checking the back door. Locking up. Keeping me safe.
I draw the shades against the darkness outside but keep the lights on. I wait for the kids to come home, and I try not to think of the mess I’m making of my life.
* * * *
Chloe groans the second she walks through the door and smells chicken. “Oh my
God
,” she complains. “Can we ever just not have meat?”
“Feel free to eat cereal,” I reply. “Or don’t eat. The next meal’s breakfast.”
Caden stops in his tracks at my sharp tone and studies me warily. “Ma, you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. Hungry?”
“Starving.” He grins and I ignore Chloe’s eye roll as my son wraps his long arms around me.
“Practice good?” I ask both of them, but of course only Caden responds.
“It went okay,” he shrugs. “It was pretty cold tonight. Last meet is next Saturday, then I can sleep every morning.” Grinning, he adds, “Unless I decide to try out for wrestling.”
“Do I even want to know what the practice schedule is like for wrestling?”
“Nope.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Can you guys set the table, please? We’re eating in about half an hour.”
Caden immediately starts pulling plates and silverware from the cabinets while Chloe remains glued to her phone for another few minutes. She’s probably doing it on purpose, but I can’t deal with her attitude tonight. I just can’t do it. I have a flash of gratitude that she’ll be in a dorm this time next year, and then I chastise myself for being a horrible mother. I love her, I do. But the limits of my patience are not generous this evening, and I don’t deserve the attitude for whatever imagined injustice she thinks I’ve perpetrated by what, cooking her dinner?
Ignoring my daughter, I set about mixing a salad dressing, all the while cursing my own skittishness. If I’d just reacted a bit more calmly, Grady would be here right now, eating with us. There wouldn’t be any talking or kissing or shocking confessions, just us and the kids having a family dinner. I want that. I
ache
for that. And he says he can give me that.
But I feel like I’m clinging to the edge of a cliff, and my only chance for survival is to hold on tight with everything I’ve got. I’m not strong enough to support myself with one hand, and although he’s offering his, I’m afraid if I reach for it, I’ll fall.
It may have been a long time ago, but the searing pain of my last fall hasn’t left me yet. Maybe it never will.
* * * *
“I just don’t think I can go through that kind of pain again.”
Unburdening myself to Renée is like slipping into a hot, soothing bath. My sister-in-law is the most comforting human being in the world, even more so than Donna. When the kids head upstairs to do their homework, I call to check on her. She murmurs a few words that basically add up to “I’m fine” and skillfully turns the conversation around to me and Grady. Like a lovesick teenager, I spill everything to her in a manic jumble - the hug, the marshmallow, the dance, the kiss. Finally I confess what happened yesterday, and she stops me in my tracks by asking why on earth I won’t just go for it.
When I tell her, she’s quiet for a moment before replying sadly, “Oh, Cass… That would be like me saying I should never have married Carl because I was going to lose him anyway.”
I’m horrified with my selfishness that I didn’t think of that before I opened my big mouth. “Oh my God, Renée, please… I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t.” Her voice is kind. “No one can measure another person’s pain. No one can say how it feels except the person who’s feeling it. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you to see Grady become who he was at the end of your marriage. It’s a death of its own, when a person changes like that.”
“Yes,” I choke. “It was like that. I
grieved
. I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t laugh again for months. And it took me
five years
to let another man into my life again. That’s what I’m scared of.”
“Five years is a long time to be alone, hon.”
“It was a long time.” And then I ask the question I’ve wanted to ask her. “Do you think you’ll be over Carl in five years?”
“No,” she answers. “I’ll never be over Carl. I’ll love him until I die, and then we’ll be together again and I’ll love him for eternity. But maybe I’ll also love someone else. Maybe someone is out there with whom I can be happy again.”
“How does that work, seriously? What if you meet another man, and you fall in love with him and you grow old together. When you die you’ll be with both him
and
Carl?”
“Carl will get the threesome he always joked about.” She laughs, and I’m so thirsty for some joy I drink up the sound of it. “No, totally kidding. I don’t think Heaven works that way. I think our earthly ideas about possession of another human beings don’t exist there. I think you get to be with everyone you ever loved, not in our human roles, but as pure souls who love each other with the same love we feel for God.”
She’s so confident in her beliefs. I wonder for the millionth time if I might be a little less loony if I had a little more faith in my heart. “I have to admit I’ve never thought of it that way.”
“I have a lot of time to think,” she reminds me. “Sometimes I make myself crazy with all the thinking.”
We’re both quiet for a minute. “I’m sure the last thing you want to do is hear me whine about Grady,” I say finally. “Sorry, I just… I didn’t know who else to talk to. You know both of us, and you know our history. Am I stupid to worry? Should I just let it happen?”
“I can’t answer that for you, hon. But I can lay down some truth for you, if that will help.”
“Please do. I’m a fucking mess. Please, please help me make sense of this.”
“Okay. So, first - Grady loves you. I’m not saying he won’t screw something up, but his intentions are pure, Cass. You have to believe that. He’s a good man. The best. He wants to make you happy. That counts for a lot.”
“He is a good man.”
“And he loves you. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” It’s easy to say, because I’ve seen it in his eyes. I’m as sure of it as I am of my own confusion. “I know that.”
“Then, second - life is short. I’m not saying that because I just lost my husband. I’m saying that because I’ve lived my entire life shooting first and asking questions later. I’m not sure you want to take your cues from me, but sometimes you just have to ask if what you have to gain, even if you only have it for a minute, is worth bleeding for.”
I mull over her words for a moment. “Yeah… I guess I didn’t think of it like that.”
“Okay. Let me ask you this. What’s your happiest memory with Grady? Like the absolute best, most unforgettable day?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “That’s easy. When I told him I was pregnant with Caden. He’d taken me to this amazing B & B for a belated honeymoon, and I knew I was pregnant but I’d been scared to tell him. It was perfect.”
“Would you give that up for the pain you suffered afterward?”
“No. Not for any of it.” I remember the look in Grady’s eyes as he made love to me. It used to gut me to recall it, but right now when it comes back to me it’s as beautiful as it was then, so sweet I ache with it.
“And what if that isn’t even as good as it gets?”
I’m shocked into silence.
“I’m serious. What if there are memories to be made with Grady that are infinitely more beautiful than that day?”
“Impossible.” My protest is out before I can even stop to think about it. But what if she’s right?
“Hon?” she asks gently.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know how many times I’ve said that word and been totally wrong?”
“I’ll think on it,” I concede.
“You have absolutely nothing to lose except more lonely years, Cass.”
“Hey! They haven’t been so miserable.”
“No? When was the last time you laughed so hard you thought you’d piss yourself? When was the last time you spent the entire day in bed worshiping a man who worshiped you right back?”
Oh, God. She’s right.
“When was the last time you cried happy tears?”
“I can’t remember,” I whisper.
“Grady’s handing you all that on a platter. Sleep on it, hon. You’re too tweaked out right now to make a decision, but give it some thought. See what you come up with.”
“I can do that.” I realize, though, that if I spend one more restless night thinking about Grady, I might need to start taking sleeping pills to get through my days. And that’s an unappealing thought and one I know Dr. Gaul will wholeheartedly disapprove of.
“Love you,” Renée says. “Sophie’s stirring, so I’m going to go feed her, but I’m serious. And call me anytime.”
“Love you, too, sweetie. Thank you so much for talking me down from the edge.”
When she hangs up I grab my phone and text Grady.
—I’m sorry I overreacted
.
Can we talk sometime this week?
He responds almost immediately. —
Just say when.
—
Call you when the kids are at practice tomorrow?
—
I’ll come over. What time do you get home from work? 4:30?
My heart pounds, but I have to face him sometime. —
Yes
.
—
See you tomorrow. Sleep well.
I silence my phone and get ready for bed, still nervous but no longer terrified.
August 6, 1997
Grady
She weighs next to nothing and her cries sound like a kitten’s. I hold her carefully, completely terrified by the nurse’s warnings about her neck and the soft spot on top of her head. They put her in my arms in the chair and I don’t move from there, because I’m deathly afraid of dropping her.
Cass had it rough and she sleeps soundly in the hospital bed across from me, her lips chapped and skin flushed. She’s running a slight fever, but the nurses are taking good care of her. Despite the fact that I’ve never held a baby before, they’re really patient with me, too.
My daughter’s forehead is covered in blond fuzz even though her hair is dark. Her eyelashes seem unbelievably long for a baby's - I guess I never thought about how long a baby’s eyelashes might be? - and her fingers are long, too. They’re tinier than I imagined, and she grips my thumb in her little fist. Everyone who’s seen her so far says she looks just like Cass, but I can’t tell yet. I only know that she’s amazing.
Love at first sight is real. I’ve heard people say it isn’t, but I loved Cassie the moment I saw her at the football game laughing with her friends. I didn’t stop to think about it. I didn’t question it. My heart decided it was hers and that was that. But I didn’t believe it could happen twice. I didn’t realize your heart makes extra room for new loves.
But it does. My daughter sleeps in my arms, her breath escaping her puckered lips in quiet little puffs, and I know that love, like lightning, can strike twice in the same place.