Page 40 of Cascade

When my clients are facing an audit or a tax bill larger than they can afford, I just show them a long-term forecast and usher them across the street to the credit union to chill with my friends the loan officers. I see it now, though, the way that stress and worry can consume someone.

Hell, when I was preparing for my CPA exam, I just figured if I didn’t pass I would just take the exam section again later. Opal says I’m good at code switching. I always just sort of thought I was easygoing and nobody expected much from me. Not like my genius siblings. Nothing has ever felt urgent or pressing to me the way my concern about Opal does now. She’s rattled, and so I’m rattled. I’m new to this.

I get to my house expecting her to be conked out in my bed where I left her, but when I open the side door to the kitchen, I hear her sitting in the living room with my sister. I sure as hell hope Diana didn’t wake Opal up.

I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but it’s hard not to when I have such a difficult time getting Opal to share anything with me. I lean against the door frame when Diana says, “I’m no fan of cutting men a break. You know this. But I can vouch for the Thistle thing.” Diana’s words are punctuated with the sounds of rustling paper. I peek into the room and see they’re going through a folder of paperwork.

Diana continues. “So in high school, Fletcher was fully absorbed in this woman. They broke up before graduation, both left for college, and really neither one of them has been back. Fletcher is some sports television producer big shot. Oscar, scoot. Ouch!”

“Let me see.” Opal’s voice is steady when she says, “No, don’t suck on it. Diana, please. You can’t suck on a cut. I have disinfectant in my bag.” I hear her rustling around the living room. Opal has piled up all her midwife gear. I like having it here, like having her here in my house. Not that it was some dingy bachelor pad before or anything, but my house feels so much more lived in with her and Oscar here. Purposeful.

“Fuck!” My sister yells and I bite my knuckle so I don’t laugh out loud. “That stings. Anyway, we definitely talked about the McMurrays at dinner. My guess is you were totally overwhelmed, right? My family is a nightmare. Did I tell you about the time Asa blindsided me and dragged me to a ritual religious dinner with his extended family? I hadn’t even met any of them before.”

I peek around the door frame again and watch Opal finish cleaning Diana’s scratched hand. She dabs at the wound with a cotton pad, biting her lip in concentration. Diana squeezes her other hand and says, “It’s ok to be cautious. I’ve been burned before by a man. But I’ll tell you, it’s ok to let my brother love you, too. You deserve it, is what I’m saying.”

Both Diana and Opal look like they’re going to cry. There’s a long pause and Opal swallows. “It’s really difficult,” she says. Diana nods. “I’ve never been able to rely on anyone before.”

Diana gestures to the papers. “For years, I didn’t trust anyone other than myself to do a damn thing. Look at me now, reaching out for help with a baby shower and now asking for advice about getting pregnant.”

Opal dabs at her eyes, looking teary, while my eyes feel like they’re going to bug out of my head. I’m about to swoop in and tell them I’m home when Diana punches her in the shoulder. “My brother’s a douchebag, but he’s ok. And what did Indigo say you call him? The archduke of orgasms?”

“Hey! I’m here,” I blurt out. “I’m home and I brought takeout.” Opal looks startled but Diana makes a face and sticks her tongue out at me.

“I’m assuming that’s my cue to get out of here,” she says, and starts brushing paperwork into a tote bag.

“You don’t have to go,” Opal insists, making me wince. I really want to have a talk with her. Figure things out. Oscar walks up and starts circling my legs, purring. I bend down to pick him up into my arms and Opal stares at me, slack-jawed.

“Meh,” Diana says, shrugging into her coat. “All this talk about good men sort of has me wanting to go home and demand that Asa impregnate me.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I say, burying my face into Oscar’s fur as he rubs his head against my chin.

“You gonna be around to catch the baby next summer?” Diana raises her eyebrows at Opal, who looks like she swallowed a hairball. “Remember the family group chat if there’s any news about Abigail.” My sister laughs and bustles out the front door. I plunk down on the sofa next to Opal, trying to offer her the cat, but he squirms and tries to attach himself to my shirt.

“Hey,” I say to her, leaning my head on her shoulder. “I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

Opal yawns. “I just slept for an hour. I figured it’ll be better for my body if I can stay up until proper bedtime. Get back on a daylight schedule.” She trails off so I start rubbing her leg.

“I brought us some soup. I thought we could talk.”

“I can be out of your hair by morning,” she says, her eyes wide. “It might take me a minute to get Oscar—“

“Opal, no. What? That’s not what I meant at all.”

“It’s not?”

“No. Precious, listen.” I shoo the cat away and wrap my arms around her, turning her to face me so we can talk eye to eye. “I like having you at my house. I like having you in my life. I want to talk about what made you upset today, so we can figure out how I can do better next time.”

She blinks at me. “You want to do better? For me?”

I nod. “Opal, these past few weeks with you…it’s been real different. It’s been…real.” She closes her eyes and swallows. “And I know it’s new to you, and I know my family comes on strong. But I want to keep hearing about cervixes and watch the sparks shoot out of your eyes when you sit on my couch to compile the data from your patient visits. I don’t think we’re going to be able to fuck at my office anymore now that Thistle’s working there but—“ she’s all out crying now and I’m not sure what to make of that, so I stop talking. “Am I fucking everything up?”

Her eyes fly open. “You? God, no. I’m just…” She takes a deep breath, lets it out. “I feel like I need to call Pam. I don’t know what to do about today.”

“Do you want me to give you some privacy to call her?” I stroke her face, hoping she isn’t really going to break contact to go and call her therapist. I feel a wave of relief when she shakes her head.

“I met with Moorely today. Do you all call him that? Is it ok if I call him Andy?”

I chuckle. “You can call him whatever, babe.”

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