Page 63 of The Cadence
“No, that’s ok. What were you going to tell me?”
“Well, maybe you think that you’re hiding it, but it’s very clear how much you care about him,” she said, and I started to feel very warm. It was kind of like when you bent to take out cookies from the oven and felt that sudden rush of burning air.
“Do you think that he’s aware of it, too?” I asked.
She stared at me like I might have been an idiot but then quickly adjusted her features. “Oh, no! Probably not. He’s probably very oblivious. Many men are, so you shouldn’t worry.”
“Holy Moses.” I briefly covered my face with my hands. “I tried to get over it for years.”
“Years?” she wondered.
“I met Will when I was only fourteen,” I explained. “He was a senior and I was a freshman, and I’ve been crazy about him ever since. I tried to find someone else but they were never good enough, not compared to him. My grandma would tell me that I had built him up in my mind into something that he’s not and that I needed to move on. She was very worried about me getting stuck on a high school crush for life.” I assumed that was why she’d never told me about his attempts over the last seven years to get information about me. I couldn’t blame her for that concern.
Neither did Annie. “I understand her feelings,” she commiserated. “My daughter Macdara is still dating her high school boyfriend, and I love Brendan to death but I worry, too. Shouldn’t Mackie look around and see who else might be out there?” She smiled. “I also understand loving someone so much that you think your heart will fall into pieces if you’re not together, and personally, I would also be distraught if they broke up because I think he’s great. It’s a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t kind of situation,” she told me. “And I’m her mom, so I worry about everything no matter what.”
“That was how my grandma felt, too. It’s nice.”
Annie smiled again. “My children don’t always appreciate my worrying, but that won’t make me stop. When they’re sixty, I’ll probably be checking their locations and making sure they’re getting enough sleep.”
“My grandma was like that about her son for his whole life,” I said. “But he gave her a lot to deal with. He was constantly in trouble, so I tried to be very, very good and not give her any more. I wouldn’t have wanted to, anyway, because why would I have done that to someone who loved me so much?”
“Did you live with her?”
“I moved into her house when I was thirteen and I stayed up until the beginning of this summer.” I took a slow breath in and out, and by doing that and also blinking a lot, I managed not to cry. It was an accomplishment. “Her good friend is going through something similar with her own son.” I told Annie about Miss Mozella and gave her a vague description of Brian’s various crimes, which she had a hard time believing. “It’s all true, unfortunately,” I said. “Will got him a sharp lawyer but it was only to make Miss Mozella feel better, so she would know that she had done all she could. Her son is going to prison no matter what.”
“I can’t imagine,” Annie breathed, and I hoped like anything that she wouldn’t have to. But sometimes, even the best people could have kids that strayed from the right path. Fortunately, the other side was also true: good could grow where you least expected it.
“People can overcome a lot,” I mentioned. “No matter their parents or their lineage, no matter if their family was terrible even way back when Tennessee belonged to North Carolina. People can break the pattern.”
“Isn’t that wonderful?” she asked, nodding. “As humans, we have the capacity for a lot of change and a lot of improvement. I’m so glad for that.” We both ended up taking a tissue. Then she suggested that we talk about my office.
“Myoffice?” I asked, confused. “Do you mean the one I’m using, Will’s?”
“No, the one for you and your furniture business,” she explained, and took out her big phone again. “Will texted me to say that you would need a dedicated space, either for work or for studying. He definitely thought you’d need a desk of your own and shelves for your books.”
“Well, I don’t know. I was thinking about moving out and getting my own place,” I explained. “I hear a lot from the ladies back home on that topic and they’re very, very sure that I need to be away from this house.”
“Because of how much you love him?” Annie asked, and then we both heard the garage door. “We’ll talk about it later!”
Will had missed the last midweek contest against the Garnets because of his ankle but he was now doing what the team called limited activity. He was only listed as “likely” in terms of his participation in the upcoming game this Saturday. But he was walking pretty easily without crutches, something I was carefully monitoring. I did that again now as he entered the house.
“Hello, Calla. Hi, Annie,” he greeted us. “You two look busy.”
There was a large swath of materials spread across the counter and she started to gather everything up. “I think that Calla made great choices,” she said, smiling, and I wondered if she was referring to the Crumb of Cream trim paint I’d selected, or if there was something more. At any rate, I didn’t have time to delve too far into that, because I had to get to the store.
But I did want to briefly delve into Will’s suggestion that I needed an office. “Do you really think that I should have my own place to work here?” I asked him.
“Why not? There’s room for it.”
There was also plenty of space for ten or so kids, like Annie seemed to have, or adorable babies like her partner Remy—no, no. What was I talking about?
“I was thinking that you might want to use your grandma’s table as a desk,” he continued.
“Her dining room table?” I clarified, and he nodded.
“It would be too small for the dining room in this house. I taped it out on the floor when we first flew back here,” he explained.
“You had measured it when you were in Chattanooga?” I asked, and he seemed confused by my question.
