Page 38 of Quiet Chaos

When Cade leaned away from me this morning, cool air touched my legs, and I guessed my shirt hiked up. I should have lowered it. Perhaps his eyes wandered over my bare skin. Once again, I accept sin over goodness. Cade tows me in that direction, not forcefully or on purpose, but by being him. Lovinghim means allowing in sin. My physical desires increase daily, and I have a constant ache in my heart, because he doesn’t belong to me. We come from different worlds, yet it doesn’t prevent this powerful attraction and love.

I want him to touch me and hope he doesn’t. Cade and I are an oxymoron—we’re opposites—together by accident. He understands my religious beliefs about as much as I understand his club. And I say he’s sin, but he’s also a man of few words with a big heart. What he’s done for me is priceless. He’s been gracious without asking for anything in return. Cade has integrity I haven’t seen in anyone else.

I wrap garland around the banister and Patsy cuts into my thoughts and says, “Hello, Sky. Are you with me?”

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I’m going to bring some food to the guys.”

We place appetizers on the table in the lounge for Reed and Cade. They’re watching TV with the volume off. I hang back from Patsy when we leave, long enough for Reed to ask, “Why do you think you don’t belong together?” As much as I want to hear his response, I didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, so I join Patsy in the living room where we are now.

The Christmas bins are full of decorations. I place them on the floor. Patsy checks on me and returns to shuffling through another bin. I know she wants to say something, and I’m guessing it’s about Cade. The whole matter causes goosebumps. To come to terms with it is one thing, to voice to others is another. I’ve admitted to myself I’m in love with a man who drinks, curses, and has sex with various women. And I’m also in love with a man who takes care of his friends, cooks, loves his dog, and has his own business.

“What’s with you and Cade?” Patsy blurts out.

“Nothing.”

She puts down whatever she has in her hand and says, “I’m not blind, and you know I’m not dumb. The way you two act around each other is like Twister. You both step toward each other, the desire clear, then you twist possibilities into excuses until you’re stepping away.”

I sit on my heels, attempting to unravel a strand of lights, twirling Patsy’s words in my mind.

“It’s okay to be scared, Sky.”

I shrug. “We’re different.”

Reed’s question to Cade comes to mind, and I assume Cade doesn’t care for me in that way. I mean, he cares for me in a take care kind of way, but he doesn’t romantically want to care for me. I’m like the side of cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving. Not everyone wants to try it.

“And you’re the same.” Patsy inclines her head and continues, “We all have good and evil in us. Some turn away from their good side and some from their bad. Then there’s the average person who tries to balance out the two, hoping the scale leans more toward good.”

There isn’t time for silence because Patsy’s on a roll. “Look Sky, Cade isn’t perfect, and neither is anyone. Sure, he swears, drinks, but he also takes care of his friends and family. Reed told me how he stayed by his mother’s side until the end.”

My head pops up. “The end?”

“She died of cancer.”

I never asked him about his parents. Why didn’t I? How could I overlook this? Am I self-absorbed? They haven’t been around. It’s so obvious, yet I didn’t bother.

Patsy adds, “From what Reed told me, Cade and his mom were very close. Broke him when she died.” She takes more items out of the bin. “I guess that’s why he shies away from relationships. The pain he suffered was too great to experience again, so he stays away from love.”

“Was her name Christine?”

Patsy stops and says, “Yes.”

My body releases a month’s worth of burden when she confirms it. The woman’s name tattooed on his wrist is his mother’s, not some woman he was sexually involved with.

“What about his father?”

“He died this past June. After his mom died, Charlie, that’s his father’s name, couldn’t deal with it and became an alcoholic. In high school, Cade partly took over the family business because Charlie was drunk so much.”

Poor Cade. How selfish I’ve been for never asking about his life. There’ve been questions about the club and women for my own self-interest, instead of what’s important.

“It’s so sad to hear. I hadn’t even asked him anything about his parents.”

“He probably wouldn’t tell you anyway. If you haven’t figured it out by now, Cade is a man of few words.”

I hoot at the obvious. He isn’t one to get all mushy, emotional, or pour his soul out to anyone. Cade keeps his hard demeanor and feelings inside. Maybe that’s where the chaos in his name comes from. He has brewing chaos deep down, and he deals with it in quiet. It’s only in the early morning hours when I detect a sliver of vulnerability from him.

“Can I ask you something, Patsy?” She gives the okay. “The woman at the club. I think her name is Josie. What’s her relationship to Cade?”

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