Page 4 of Free to Dream
“No,” I lie. “Nothing is wrong. Some of us just like things done in an orderly fashion without rushing around on a Monday or meeting clients unprepared.”
“One time, Cass. It was one time. And you’ll never let me forget it.” Em’s annoyance with me is clear.
“Would you let me if I walked into a meeting and didn’t know the name of the client, sister dear?” I kick back and get comfortable in my chair.
“Fuck no.” And she wouldn’t.
Em loves to provoke me. She would no sooner give up the chance to taunt me than I would her. It’s just our way. After close to twenty years of knowing each other and living together, I consider it part of our sisterly privilege.
“Okay, fine. Keep being a bitch about something that happened eons ago,” Em huffs. But she’s in no way offended.
“Always will.”
There’s a pregnant pause before Em continues. “Cassidy? I just want you to know I—we—are all here. We always have been.”
I look at the framed photo of my family on the wall. It’s a new photo, with Jason included. He joined our family after he married Phil over the summer.
I murmur quietly into the phone, “Not always, Em. But always when it counted. I know that. I’ll see you tonight?” Hopefully I can pull off this charade a little longer—aided by a lot of eye makeup to camouflage the evidence of not sleeping. And maybe a nap.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Phil just called and dinner’s off tonight. He has to meet Jason in the city. Do you want to go shopping with me instead?”
Phil is in the building. Why didn’t he tell me this himself?
I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth when it comes to shopping, so I relent. “Let me get home and change.” I run my hand down my leggings and think maybe I need more time to compose myself from last night’s nocturnal events.
“No worries. Just call me when you’re ready. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Checking our work schedule once more to make sure everything is set for Monday, I make my way out of my office. I know I’ll be walking around the mall for hours with Em.
As I’m pulling up my gravel driveway a few minutes later, I vaguely wonder why I didn’t see Phil’s car when I left the office.
* * *
It’sabout 8:30 when my phone rings. I’m exhausted and running on fumes.
I’m sorting the bags filled with things Em and I purchased at the Danbury Fair Mall. It might be September, but most of mine are for Christmas, so I’ve pulled storage bins from my walk-in attic to store them. Yes, I’m one of those people. I always have most of my Christmas shopping done by Halloween. Sue me.
Carefully placing the dangling silver and amethyst stars for Alison aside, my phone display lights up with a call—it’s Phil.
“You lived up to your nickname of the human whirlpool today, brother. Just needed to get a dose of spinning all our worlds out of order? You and I were both at the office, and even cancelling dinner, you still managed to stir us all into a tither talking about you. Don’t worry though, it was the delicate cycle,” I tease, reaching for another shopping bag. There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Phil? Honey? Are you okay? Is Jason okay?”
“Sorry, Cass, you cut out there for a moment.” Phil’s tone is lighthearted, but even over the phone I can tell something is off with him.
“Everything all right, Phillip? It’s not like you to schedule dinner and bail out,” I probe gently.
“It’s—” He sighs into the phone. “Fine for now. Don’t worry about it.” There’s static on the line, and I realize he’s muffling the phone with his hand to say something to Jason. I’m barely paying attention until I hear my name. “You’re in the office at your normal time tomorrow, right?”
Um, when am I not? Deciding Phil doesn’t need my dry wit right now, I reply, “Yes.”
Still distracted, he asks, “Do you have your planner in front of you? I need you to squeeze a new appointment in tomorrow.”
I laugh at this point. Whatever it is on Phil’s mind has him completely rattled. After all the years we’ve lived together, he should know me better. I typically have my schedule memorized by Sunday evenings for the entire week.
I want to hear what he’s proposing before I accept and add a new meeting to our schedule. I have a clear conscience as I lie, prompting him to continue. “Okay, I have it. What do you need?”
“Do you have time in the morning, or would you have to bump a client?” He sounds nervous.
