Don't Scream Part 19

Shes never been very good, one-on-one, with her mother. She still remembers the awkward solo visits Regina made to boarding school and college on weekends when Ca.s.sies father was otherwise occupied.

Ironic that a woman who built an entire political career based on charisma has never learned to carry on a reciprocal conversation with her own daughter.

Before I forget to tell you, Lavinia Byers cant make it tomorrow after all, but shes still coming to the wedding. Regina walks to the kitchen and takes a gla.s.s from the cupboard.

Thats too badthat she cant make it to the shower, I mean.

She sends her regrets and her best wishes, and she said she had something sent from Tiffanys. Probably place settings.

Thats nice. Ca.s.sie knows her mothers colleague Lavinia Byers about as well as she knows the formal china pattern on her Tiffany Bridal Registry.

She vaguely remembers picking it out one day last summergold and white Limoges, perhaps?just as she vaguely remembers crossing paths with the equally sophisticated Lavinia at some political event.

She never fully antic.i.p.ated the impact of encountering either of them again.

But the china is acc.u.mulating in telltale turquoise blue gift boxes at her future sister-in-laws new house in antic.i.p.ation of the upcoming shower, and the wedding is really happening, a formal affair with three hundred guests including Lavinia Byers.

Of course its really happening Did you honestly think it wasnt going to?

No, it isnt that.

Its that she hasnt allowed herself tothink at all, managing amid the bustling preparation to remain insulated from the full impact of her upcoming marriage.

Whenever a potentially explosive manifestation zinged her wayvisiting the bridal registry, being fitted for a gown, hearing Alecs comment about five childrenshe somehow deflected it all.

Until the last few days.

Pelted by one prenuptial bombsh.e.l.l after anotherthe arrival of the boxed wedding invitations yesterday, vividly printed in undeniable black and white nearly did her inher protective s.h.i.+eld is beginning to crack, allowing the true implications to seep in.

She, Ca.s.sandra Ashford, is about to pledge to share every day for the rest of her life with another human being.

Not justany human being.

Alec.

Alec is wonderful. He loves her. She loves him.

Yet is she really prepared to relinquish her independence before shes ever had a chance to live her life on her own terms?

Three decades of following the rules, meeting other peoples expectations, and now shes on the verge of breaking free at last. Sh.e.l.l be finished with her residency in a matter of months, after years of nonstop hard work.

Free Free to start a family, is what Alec said just the other day. Who knows? Maybe next year at this time, well be having our first child.

Ca.s.sie smiled.

But she wanted to scream.

She said, calmly, I dont know if I want to get pregnant that quickly.

Which was a lie, because shedid know that she didnt want to get pregnant that quicklyshe was a hundred percent certain of it.

Alec protested, Youre turning thirty this month. Your biological clock is ticking. Who knows how long it might take us to conceive? We should start trying right away.

At every turn, somebody is waiting to tell her what to do: Alec. Her mother. Her father. Dr. Prevatt, her attending physician at the hospital.

When does she get to do what she wants to do?

What is it that you want to do?

She keeps asking herself that question, to no avail.

The only honest answer she can conjure is:I want to get on my horse and ride away.

Thats about as realistic as Well, as her mother suddenly turning over a kinder, gentler leaf.

Mom, Ca.s.sie says, realizing shes filling a gla.s.s from the tap, Ive got bottled water in the fridge.

This isnt for me. Its for your poor philodendron. Regina marches back to the living room and dumps the gla.s.s into the wilted plant. These things are almost impossible to kill, yet youre managing. Do you ever water this?

No, she never does.

Once in awhile, Alec will sprinkle it with the remains of his squirt bottle of Poland Spring, but thats about it.

Ca.s.sie thinks of her parents apartment on East Sixty-Second Street, with abundant healthy house plants cl.u.s.tered in each sunny window.

Regina prides herself on knowing the botanical name of each and cares for them single-handedly. When shes not busy overseeing the legal affairs for the City of New York or planning her upcoming congressional campaign, that is.

Ca.s.sie sighs inwardly.

Even if she marries Alec, lands in a thriving pediatric practice, has a waterfront mansion and a brood of beautiful children Sh.e.l.l still somehow feel inadequate.

Sh.e.l.l never live up to her mothers perfectionist expectations; why bother trying?

Why bother with any of this?

The wedding, the medical career, the stupid, half-dead philodendron Right now, she wants to shed every last burden.

But what about Alec?

He loves her.

And she does love him.

She just wishes he would give her more time. And s.p.a.ce.

Ca.s.sie closes her eyes and pictures herself on her horses glossy light brown back, precisely the color of a perfectly toasted marshmallow. Shes surrounded by a vast green meadow, the wind in her face Then she opens her eyes, and theres her mother, shaking her head as she pinches several withered yellow-brown leaves from the twining philodendron.

Looks like somebodys having a birthday party, comments the gray-haired, heavyset woman behind the cash register at Party City.

What is there to do but nod in agreement and watch her painstakingly ring up the purchases?

Pointy bubblegum-pink paper party hats, matching plates and cups, a bag of pink and white balloons, another of little horns that unfurl tissue tubes when you blow on their plastic mouthpieces. Plus a big, s.h.i.+ny pink HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, wrapping paper, a package of candles.

Only ten? asks the woman, whose plastic name tag readsMarge .

Thats just how many I need. Smile pleasantly. Look her in the eye. Be casual.

My granddaughter is ten years old, too, next week, Marge comments. I cant believe its been ten years already. They sure have flown by.

For you, maybe, Marge.

They havent flown by for me at all.

Did you want to get some goody bags, too? We have some on the shelf that match this pattern.

No, no goody bags.

Are you sure? My daughter says you cant have a party without goody bags.

Ive already got them.

Then youre ahead of the game.

Very observant of you, Marge. Im way ahead of the game.

I hope the birthday girl enjoys her special day.

Oh, Im sure she will.

Marge hands over the white plastic bag filled with party supplies. You have a nice night, now.

I will, thanks.

And tomorrow night is sure to be even nicer.

CHAPTER 8.

Im in a bind, I need a huge favor. Can you help me?

Holding the phone to her ear, Brynn sits back on the rumpled bed and exhales heavily through puffed cheeks.

Leave it to Fee to barge right back into her lifeat six fortyAM , no lessafter a week-long absence, with an immediate and brazen request for a favor.

And not just any favor ahuge favor.

I dont know, Fee What is it? Brynn asks reluctantly, watching a towel-clad, damp-haired Garth pad back into the bedroom.

I swear Pat is a first-cla.s.s jerk.

So whats the favor? Do you need me to find him and beat him up for you? Brynn cracks.

Believe me, if I thought you were serious, Id take you up on that. He wont take Ashley for me tonight, and I have an important thing to go to in Boston.

A meeting?

A moments hesitation, then Fiona clarifies, Its a date, actually. With a client.

Is that good for business? Brynn asks, and wonders why she bothered. As if Fiona would ever do anything that isnt good for business.

Trust me, its very good for business. Anyway, I wont be back until really late, so Why wont Pat take Ashley?

Why do you think? Spite. I asked him right in front of her last night, and he said hed have to check his schedule and let me know. I just woke up to a text message from him saying hes busy.

Maybe he really is.

Doing what? WatchingLaw & Order reruns?

Brynn yawns, checking the clock. Almost time to go wake the boys. She wishes Fiona would just get to the point And shes pretty sure she knows what it is.

I even tried calling Sharon in Albany to see if shed come down, but her daughter said shes away on some casino trip with a busload of old farts from the senior center.

Her daughter said that?

More or less. So can you, Brynn?

She decides to feign ignorance. Can I what?

Take Ashley for me tonight? Shes really no problem I know she isnt And shed help you with the boys, and the dishes, and she could clean up around your house a little.

For G.o.ds sake, Fee, you dont have to sell her domestic skills to me. Of course Ill take her. I love Ashley.

And I know you do, too. I just wish youd figure out how to show it more often.

Thanks, Brynn.

Mmm-hmm. Brynn watches as, facing the mirror, Garth drops the towel. She cant help but admire her husbands muscular shoulders, b.u.t.tocks, legs. Experiencing a wanton stirring in the pit of her stomach, she casts another glance at the clock.

No, she has to get the boys moving.

Then she looks back at Garth, still standing there naked, and his reflection grins and bobs a suggestive eyebrow at her.

Can you keep her overnight? Fiona is asking.