How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (11 page)

She’d tried to call them that night and the next day they’d spotted her sweeping the front parking lot at Rudy’s with a heavy push broom—something one of the men or the bus boys normally did.

They’d tried to talk to her at school, but one of her cousins was always around, and when they’d succeeded and asked her how she was doing, it must’ve been reported to her father because the next day she was at the restaurant, washing down the outside of the big metal dumpster with a handheld scrub brush.

Feeling bad for inadvertently making her situation worse, they’d left flowers for her in her locker. The next day they’d spotted her with bandaged hands and fingers. After demanding to know what had happened, the cousin had finally had mercy and told them Cassie’s dad had set her to work in the restaurant flowerbeds, pulling weeds, and when that hadn’t taken long enough, he’d put her to work pulling weeds in the grassy area behind the restaurant where he could keep an eye on her from his office—all without any gloves to protect her hands. And then he’d set her to scrubbing the floor mats in the kitchen area with bleach and boiling hot water.

With teary eyes, the cousin, Josie, had said, “Guys, she can barely write today. When he saw her bandaged hands this morning, the band director told her she could sit out of band practice. She has a band contest coming up, and she said she couldn’t afford to not practice. I know you’re concerned, but you’ve got to stop, okay? With her mom in jail, she’s got no one at home to take care of her. Maybe…maybe after graduation, once she leaves for school, you can get in touch with her. She cries all the time. She misses her mom—and you, I suppose—and she’s hurting.”

Samson had seemed to deflate as he listened to Josie. “All right. Just…just tell her I…tell her…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to try again, but she stopped him, compassion in her eyes.

“I’ll tell her. And I swear I won’t tell anyone I talked to you. You need to understand how it is in our family. The men rule with an iron fist. The women obey.”

Samson’s jaw had clenched. “Are they abusive? If they are—”

“No. But…you can see they have other ways to punish besides fists and belts. He will ease up on her if you’ll stay away from her.”

Thus had started a painful period of Samson’s life, and Ivan’s as well, with the rest of the fall proceeding into the holidays and Christmas vacation, and then the spring dragged forward into preparation for graduation.

After surgery and physical therapy, his knee had been declared as healed as it was going to be, which meant no sports, and so no football scholarship for college, and he certainly hadn’t been able to follow Samson into the Army.

“Ivan?” Cassie laid her hand on his arm, bringing him back to their conversation in the present. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he said, “Just remembering how it was back then.”
Why avoid the truth, at least a small part of it, any longer?
“I could blame the day-in-and-day-out routine of work and life, and that it made me feel better to believe you were okay, off pursuing your dreams. But I did Google you a few years ago and found out you were married to a guy you were
way
too good for, and then I
had
to stay away. If I’d known you were single again, I would’ve…”
Don’t scare her off.
“I thought you wanted out of here as much as we did after graduation.”

Her knuckles popped softly as she twisted her hands together. “At first I did. But it wasn’t the town so much as certain people, Ivan. I know you hated Divine back then because everyone seemed to turn on your family, and mine. But the friends like Hank and Jack, who remained, and all the
good
people in Divine make up for a few bad apples.” She breathed softly for a moment and then turned in her seat to look directly at him. “And what would you have done if I’d been available when you looked me up?”

I had to crack open this can of worms
. “I’d have done everything I could to make you happy.”

“What…what about Samson?”

He turned into the crowded parking lot at the Dancing Pony, and Samson parked beside him.

“Let’s ask him.”

Cassie’s eyebrows popped up, but she turned to the door when Samson opened it, stepped back, and held out his hand to her. She paused, looking back and forth between the two of them. Ivan smiled, trying to encourage her.

“I won’t bite, Cassandra, unless you ask me to,” Samson said with a hint of a chuckle in his voice. “If you’ll come inside with us, we can talk.” Ivan couldn’t see Samson’s face above the door, but he appreciated his brother’s intuitiveness and her trust in them as she allowed Samson to help her to her feet.

“You’ve never been in the Dancing Pony, guys,” she said with a chuckle. “It can get noisy sometimes.”

“That’ll be fine cover for our conversation, then,” Ivan said.

Two giant-sized bouncers greeted Cassie at the door like a friend and nodded to him and Samson.

“Mike, Rogelio, this is Samson and Ivan Cutter. We’ve just come from our high school reunion.”

Mike, the more gregarious of the two, said, “Ethan mentioned it to us earlier, and Hank called and reserved some tables for your group from the reunion in the area you usually sit in. Violet and Bunny are also here with their men.”

She grinned and said, “Fantastic! I haven’t seen Bunny and Joseph since their wedding.” Ivan knew from talking to her that Violet’s wedding was the following weekend.

They entered the dimly lit interior of the nightclub and guided her to the reserved group of tables, close to the dance floor. They helped her into one of the tall chairs and then maneuvered their seats so she could see them both at once without craning her neck or having to look back and forth between them.

“Thank you, guys,” she said, tenderness in her voice. “Things have been bumpy the last few weeks, especially between you and me, Samson, but it’s nice to sit and talk, like we used to before everything went south in high school, without worrying I’d get in trouble. I think one of the worst things about that time was not being able to talk to you.”

“I missed it, too.” Ivan sat back and rested his arm on the table. “The time gets away from you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Nowadays it’s unimaginable, but back then he controlled everything in our family, either directly or indirectly. I’m sorry that’s how it was for us.”

“That’s not an apology you have to make, chiquita.” Samson said and then smoothly changed the subject. “Remember the three of us sitting together in the corner booth at Rudy’s, years ago, when it was run by your grandfather?”

Her cheeks flushed, recalling the way her grandfather, the original Rudy, had kept his eagle eyes on her anytime he saw her with them, as if expecting her to do wrong. “Of course. My
Uncle
Rudy is running the family restaurant now. He bought out my dad and all the other uncles and runs it
his
way now. I was glad to see him take charge of it. I think customers liked the change, too. Do you remember how my dad used to yell at the waitresses and hostesses when we were too slow or made mistakes? Even the customers would get embarrassed for us.”

Ivan had vivid recollections of the grumpy bastard’s poor people skills. It had amazed him the restaurant had always done so much business since the manager was so lacking in congeniality. He listened as Cassie babbled on, her cheeks flushing when she finally fell quiet.

Once the waitress had delivered their drinks, Samson took her hand in his and looked down at it. “Are you nervous?”

Ivan stroked her other hand, which was resting on the table, and felt the tension building inside him lessen when she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed.

She turned her sweet mahogany eyes to him and then settled her gaze on Samson and nodded. “I’m not sure why. I wish I could read your minds and know what you’re thinking. It’s like anticipating the first kiss on a first date.”

Samson lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles and then slid his hand down her outstretched forearm to her elbow. Ivan barely heard her sharp intake of breath over the music as his brother wrapped his hand around her upper arm and used it as leverage to reel her in as he leaned toward her. She licked her lower lip a moment before he laid his lips on hers. Ivan watched her in fascination, the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing accelerated and she lifted a hand to grip his shoulder, her fingers not able to find purchase because he was too big.

Satisfaction was in Samson’s eyes when he released her from the kiss, not leaning away from her. She sat there with eyes still closed and lips parted for a couple of seconds before blinking and smiling at him. “Wow.”

“How are your nerves now?”

“Better. You’re still a fantastic kisser,” she replied with a giggle before looking at Ivan. “I still don’t know what you want, though.”

“You,” Ivan and Samson both said in unison. Ivan stroked her hand with his thumb as she stilled her fidgeting and met Ivan’s gaze. She blinked a few times. Drew her brows together, shook her head, and then squinted at him.

“Did I just hear you right?”

Samson glanced over and caught his eye and grinned. Ivan gave her hand another squeeze to draw her attention and said, “Why are you so surprised? Samson has told me that you’re friends with several ménage groups, so I know it’s not that you’re shocked.”

“Uh…Actually, yeah I am.”

“Why?” Samson replied in a growly voice.

Snorting with wry humor, she looked between them and said, “Because you don’t know what all you’d be giving up, by wanting a ménage…with
me
.”

Samson gave her a crooked grin before brushing her hair back from her cheek. “All I can see is what I’d be gaining, honey. What would
we
be giving up?”

She took a deep breath. “You both know me well enough to know I’d never go for a fling. But if we committed to a ménage, there are things you’d give up that the men in the other ménage groupings
have
.”

“Such as?” Ivan asked.

“I’m assuming you want all the sexual trappings that go along with a ménage. I’ll be fifty years old in a couple of years, and…I have, or will soon have, issues that come along with aging, and I can’t have any more children.” As she spoke, her cheeks grew more and more flushed, and when she mentioned children, her voice broke. “Neither of you are a father yet, and you’re bound to want kids…and I can’t give them to you.”

“Hey,” Samson said in a soothing voice. “Cassandra, we want
you
.
I want
you
. Ivan wants
you
.”

“But I’m not…” Her eyes darted around, as she seemed to search for the right word and then placed her hand against her abdomen. “Whole. I’m not whole anymore, which was the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back,’ according to Bill.”

“What happened?” Ivan asked, taking her hand in his again, sympathy warring with protectiveness at the mention of Bill’s name.

“I had problems with my…cycles, which made sex a hit or miss thing, and it caused a lot of tension between us. On a visit to my gynecologist they discovered some…problems and…I had to have a hysterectomy. Bill acted as though they were removing my femininity with my uterus and said that was the last straw and he was done.” It was obvious from her hesitation and the dark flush in her cheeks she wasn’t used to talking about female health issues with a man, much less men. Where had Bill been all their married life?

Ivan could only imagine the stress of running a fledgling business, having a health scare, and her husband walking out on her when she should’ve had his support as she recovered.

Her hand in Ivan’s grasp had grown cool with her agitation, and Samson took her other one again and said, “Are you okay? Did everything turn out all right?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a shrug since they were both holding her hands and wouldn’t let go. “I was fine once the surgery was behind me and I’d recovered. I have scars, but they’re practically invisible. It’s embarrassing telling you all my private medical stuff, but you need to understand I’m in early menopause. I’m on hormone replacement therapy, and you’re interested in a woman who is past her prime. If I were a couple of men looking for a woman, I’d want her to be a young woman who’s still limber and flexible. Someone who can have kids…who doesn’t have to worry—”

Samson said, “No one else but you will do, Cassandra. I hate that you see yourself as old and past your prime. That’s not the woman I see when I look at you.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’re seeing me with rose-colored glasses, Samson. What I show the world. The toned, teenaged girl is
long
gone.” Her chin wobbled with the last words, and Ivan’s heart ached for her.

“Cassie.” Ivan stroked the top of her hand. “You remember Mom had peach trees, right?”

She blinked and then smiled. “Interesting change in subject, but yes, I do.”

“She loves feeding people, just like you. In the dead of summer, she’d take her bucket into our orchard and come back with it filled full of peaches so ripe the juice was practically seeping through the skins. Another hour and they’d have fallen from the trees and been no good for anything but the wildlife. She’d come back, a little sunburnt and windblown, with bees buzzing all around her. She’d take a bath to cool down, and when she was done, she’d peel, pit, and slice those peaches and then leave them to simmer on low, low heat while she got supper ready. The scent of those simmering peaches would make my mouth water something fierce.”