Page 27 of Rumor Has It

The tracks on the soundtrack of my life I cut out are how empty my bed is, and how full of ghosts the other bedrooms seem. Those details seem less important because, almost overnight, I’ve shrugged out of the heavy cloak I’ve worn.

I want Cassidy to know this me, not the miserable man who has mourned the trappings of a glamorous life. None of what I thought was real had any authenticity, and I agonize over the reality life smacked me with.

“I really love it here,” I whisper, looking out over the property and pressing my lips to her scalp. I must’ve needed a vacation.

“In my tub?”

“At your ranch.”

“Like anything else, the shine wears off after a while.” Cassidy sighs sleepily.

“Have you lived here all your life?”

“Every day. Watching people come and go.” She waves. Water droplets falling from her fingertips make circular ripples in the still water. I think she’s talking about the guests until she says, “I was too young to notice when my sister and older cousins went to college. One by one, the older kids disappeared. Before I knew it, only Gatlin and I were around. But then he got exiled to the tropics for his antics.”

“What did you do?”

“Me? I ate my feelings.”

“I don’t believe you.” I pinch her bicep.

Cassidy’s got some meat on her bones, but she’s not flabby. A baker would have to roll out a lot of dough to get her upper body strength.

She twists in my arms, resting her head on my chest.

“I wasn’t the best student, but cooking was something I was good at since I was knee high. I found the former housekeeper’s recipe box on a shelf in the summer kitchen a long time ago.

‘My gran spoke of Benita so fondly I wanted to try every last one of them. When I was a teenager, I waited tables in the banquet hall. I adored the shiny stainless steel and the scents coming out of the commercial kitchen. Everything in there was big and industrial, and the crew operated like an assembly line. But when the doors swung open, and I approached a customer’s table, there was an intimacy to each plate I served. It was special. Just for that person.

“Once Rhi left for art school, I began working my way up from Vegetable Chef to Station Chef to Sous Chef. I managed all the specific dietary orders for special functions like nobody’s business. The bustle of the kitchen was my happy place.

“I should’ve taken over eventually. It’s just sort of what we do here. The next generation replaces the former, like the way my father and uncle assumed the helm at Cavanaugh Construction. But the B&B opening had brought a surge of business to the banquet hall. Uncle Cris is the majority shareholder in the winery. Our parents make up the estate trust. They voted to hire someone older with more experience. Supposedly, it was a temporary fix until I was more qualified. The new head chef stripped my recipes off the menu and sucked the joy out of my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t get me booted out of my family legacy.”

“No. But I’ve thought things were going one way and, when they didn’t, I had to regroup.”

I’d like to express my change in opinion about her uncle Cris, but Cassidy mentioned it was a unanimous decision to hire someone else as head chef.

“True… Anyway, the breakfast cook at the inn stuck around because of her affinity for my grandfather. When Myrna retired, Gracyn threw me a bone by offering me the empty position. That was the summer Bellamy and Gatlin got together. Moving into my grandparents’ house allowed me to move out of my parents’. Which is all a big ‘ol mouthful of me saying I never considered pulling up roots.”

I’m about to tell Cassidy I’m glad she stuck around, so that wee could meet, when I realize the Cavanaughs aren’t a family with limited resources.

“Why didn’t you go to school to be a chef?” I ask instead.

“I didn’t want to. I still don’t. I have the skills and I cook because I love cooking. I enjoy feeding people. I don’t need formal training or anyone to teach me the secret ingredient. It’s love. Like Benita, the housekeeper told Gran, you’re a success by loving what you do, not because someone else told you that you are.”

I get the impression Cassidy might love what she does, but not always where she does it.

“What about you? Did you go to college?” she inquires.

“No. I sing. I mean, I’ve had voice coaches, but I didn’t need a degree for a skill I’d already mastered by the time I was twenty.”

“See, you get it. There’s room for improvement, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t successful.”

“Thanks for trusting me with all of that.” I get the impression this is an issue Cassidy struggles with.

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