Page 25 of Better Than the Beach
“I don’t know aboutbetter...”
Her voice trails off, and for a moment, she just stares up at me, her eyes scanning over my face as if cataloging it in her memory bank. I allow myself to do the same, just as I have for days, until every laugh line and freckle and dimple are perfectly recorded.
I step down off the last step, closing the distance between us to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into my hand and her eyes flutter shut. I’m opening my mouth to speak as my mom rounds the corner from the kitchen.
“Here, Cass,” Ma says, shoving a blueberry muffin into a paper sack. “I made these this morning. Take one with you.”
“Thank you, Nan.” Cassie’s smile is subdued but grateful as she tucks the muffin into her backpack. She’s wearing my hockey sweats that I told her to keep, and her carry-on is clutched in my hands.
“Well,” I say brightly, “if you’re ready, I’ll bring your bag to my car.”
“Oh,” Cassie says, “I thought Mallory was taking me.” She shows me her phone. “She’s on her way.”
Damn it. I thought I would at least get the drive with her to talk.
“Text her back and tell her I’ll take you,” I urge. “I wanted to talk to you about music therapy master’s programs. I was thinking you and I could stay in touch.”
“Oh, yes,” my mom butts in. “You could mentor her, Nolan. You’d be so good for each other.” She looks at Cassie and winks. “He’s a good man to have in your corner. No sense in letting yourfriendshipstop now.”
Cassie’s eyes flare and her cheeks flush, then she looks at me with a shocked expression that makes me bark out a laugh. My mom is such a meddler. Cassie isn’t used to it.
“Text her,” I say again, and Cassie nods.
“Sure.”
I wait as Cassie types out the text, then Ma gives her a hug and wishes her well.
“Come back anytime, Cass,” my mom says. “It was wonderful to have you.”
“Thank you for everything, Nan.” Cassie steps back with a genuine smile, her eyes misting slightly. “This was the best possible way to spend the Snowpocalypse.”
I grab Cassie’s backpack and throw it over my shoulder with her carry-on in my other hand, and we head out the door. I’m popping the trunk when a familiar car pulls into the driveway, blocking my way out.
Colleen.
“What the fuck,” I grumble, dropping Cassie’s bags to the ground. “Wait here,” I say to her, then I walk up to Colleen’s car. “What do you want, Colleen?”
“It’s Christmas,” she croons, flicking her eyes from Cassie to me, then reaching out and putting her hand on my bicep. I shrug her off. “I wanted to spend Christmas with my family.”
“Then go find them.” I growl, just as Mallory’s car pulls up to the curb. “I have to go, Colleen, and you’re blocking me in.”
“Where do you have to go?” she questions, her brow furrowing as she once more looks from me to Cassie. I step in her line of sight, but she sidesteps me. “Who is this?” Colleen’s voice is nails on glass.
“I’m Cassie,” Cassie answers smoothly. “And you are?”
“I’m Colleen.” Her voice is all artificial sweetener and toxins, and I brace myself for what comes next. “I’m Nolan’swife,” she spits, and I hear Cassie gasp behind me.
“Ex-wife.” I growl, then turn to Cassie. “She’s my ex-wife, Cassandra.”
Colleen scoffs as I pick back up Cassie’s bags.
“Come on,” I say to her, then head to Mal’s car, where she’s currently standing with both hands on her hips glaring in our direction. “We’ll ride with Mallory.”
“Nolan,” Colleen whines as I breeze past her, clasping Cassie’s bags in one hand and her hand in the other. “Nolan, we can fix this. I want to try again.”
“Too late, Colleen. Go back to Boulder. Finish packing your stuff.”
“Is everything okay?” Mallory asks as I drop Cassie’s bags into her trunk. “What’s the bitch want?”
