Picked by Jettie Woodruff
“Why didn’t he want to touch her?” I curiously asked. I didn’t want to just come out and ask if she was ugly.
“She wasn’t the sister he wanted. He wanted my aunt. But she was chosen for another man, and my father hated him. It was like taking the thrown away from him and making him wash your feet while you sat in his chair. He took it personally.”
“What’s her name?”
“My aunt?”
“Your mother.”
“Mavis Elizabeth Cole.”
“Is she still here? I mean, she’s not dead, is she?”
“No. She’s alive and well. I’ll introduce you sometime.”
“But what about your dad?”
“She lives here, just south of Perl. She took Mason and me and left when I was seventeen.”
“Did you have a good home, though? He wasn’t mean to you, was he?”
“Oh yeah. He was Ruler of All Bastards. There was never enough food, and he mistreated everyone he came in contact with. Nothing was like it is with my girls.”
“Are you going to have fifteen wives?”
Becker laughed and kissed the back of my hand. “No. Only three.”
“But you already have three.”
“Yeah, that was the rule Mason and I agreed on when we decided we were going to make our own guidelines. He let me slide when he met you.”
That made me smile, but still didn’t change the fact. I wasn’t number four. I could never be number four.
“Does Mason have three wives?”
“He has two. He hasn’t found number three yet. He’s happy with Grace and Chloe though. They keep him plenty busy. Chloe just talked him into a ballroom dance class. I love it. It gives me something to make fun of him for.”
I loved how playful Mason and Becker were. They were happy. “What does your mother think? Didn’t she want you to break the cycle?”
“My mother has always told me to ask myself if it makes me happy before anyone else. This makes me happy, and it makes me happy to know how happy I can make my girls. It’s not a religion thing the way it was when I grew up in it. We don’t have ceremonies of why we must bow down to the head of the house. It has nothing to do with religion, my upbringing, or anything else. It makes me happy. Plain and simple.”
“My grandmother used to tell me that, too,” I admitted. Was it a sign?
“I’m not asking you to do anything, Cassie. I just want you to be open minded and consider that maybe you could be happy, too.”
“I am happy.”
“Are you?”
“I am now. You should see what thieves do when they break into the homes in my neighborhood.”
“Too serious?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. He could read me better than I could read myself.
I was never the one to initiate sex. Ever. Well, not the three times that I had done it anyway. Becker pulled to the curb in front of my house, killed the engine and then the lights. I leaned in, meeting him in the middle. Son of a bitch. Why did he have to feel this way? His hands wandered all over my upper body. My erect nipples, my sides, my hips, my ass, and finally to the fabric keeping him from seeing how wet I was, or, maybe he could. It was a good possibility.
“Oh, god, Beck. Come in,” I begged. I’d be strong tomorrow.
He groaned and moved his hand away from my throbbing nub.
Wait. I didn’t mean stop. Come back…
“I better go. What’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”
“I have to work.”
“After that?”
“Nothing.” Hey, dumbass. This is the part where you tell him thank you for decorating your entire house and all the expensive stuff he furnished it with.
“I’ll stay away. Give you a couple days to let things settle, but I did sort of tell the girls you’d be at an art show for Christina at the school. It’s tomorrow.”
I laughed. “Are you going to be there?”
“No. Mason and I have to fly to New York to meet with some clients.”
“And Christina’s okay with that?”
“Yes. It’s not like that. They have their lives, I have mine. We don’t need to have the animosity. She knows I’d be there if I could.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll come. Where and what time?”
“I’ll give them your address. They’ll pick you up. Cassie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions before asking you first.”
“Me, too,” I admitted, knowing I did the same thing.
Chapter 12
I wasn’t going to disclose it all to Justine. But I had to. I couldn’t keep it in. I spent an hour on the phone with her, telling her everything. She didn’t see what the big deal was.
“Justine! He lives with three girls. That’s not normal.”
“Who’s normal are you trying to live up to?”
“Matt knows.”
“Who gives a shit? What’s he going to do?”
“Tell my dad.”
“And what’s he going to do?”
“Forget it. I’ve got to go. I have to spend the entire day with him tomorrow.”
“I’ll spend the day with Matt. What are you doing after work? Let’s go do something.”
“I’m sort of doing something with the girls?”
“The girls?”
“Yeah, Becker’s girls.”
“The sister wives?”
“Don’t call them that. I hate that label.”
“You called them that.”
“That’s before I met them.”
“What are you doing with them? I want to come. Tell them I want to come, too.”
“I could ask. We’re just going to an art show at Summit College. Alana has some paintings or something there on exhibit.”
“I’m coming, too. I have to see if I like them as much as you do.”
“I’ll ask. And you will. I’ll text you all day while I’m staking out with Matt.”
Shoot. I forgot to tell her about my new house. Oh well, she’d just have to be shocked like I was. I slipped on a baggy nightshirt and crawled into my new bed. Oh my god. I was sleeping on a cloud.
I fell asleep comfortable and confused. I would never come across another Becker as long as I lived. I was sure of that. Why did I have to be so nosy? Why couldn’t I have just taken my boring fraud cases and been happy with it?
***
“You get some new porch furniture?” Matt asked. I didn’t let him come in. I slid out, barely cracking the door. I wasn’t about to explain that one¸ not that I would even know how to try.
“Yeah. You ready? What are we doing today? I need to be back by five.”
“Where you going?” Matt asked, following me to his tough-guy Camaro—such an uncomfortable car.
“Don’t worry about it. Stay out of my life.”
“You did tell Poly boy to back the fuck off, didn’t you?”
“He’s not bothering me, and that is none of your business, either.”
Matt slammed my door shut before I could pull it open. “Did you?” he asked, getting angry. What the hell?
“Yes, but it’s still none of your business.”
“Don’t you watch the news? Did you see that compound they just raided a few months ago? What was it? Like forty-one kids living in poverty? That’s ridiculous. Why would a man want more than one of you anyway?” Matt asked, driving us to wherever the hell we were spending the day.
“You must not watch the news. That was not a polygamy family. It was a five family Mexican household. You know nothing about polygamy.”
“Oh, and you do?”
Well shit. “Forget it. We’re working. That’s the only thing we need to talk about.”
“Fine. Let’s go to work.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re going back down to the dock. I got wind of this guy coming back in the—” That was all I got. I didn’t hear the rest. I didn’t care. My mind was on Becker, not only Becker
Reading my text message, I sighed. I didn’t want to sit in the car with Matt all day. Justine – I can’t go. I have to close tonight. Someone called off.
Cass – Okay I’ll call you later.
I was glad Justine couldn’t go. I wanted time with the girls myself first. I wondered if all the girls got the next text message. I was going to ask him.
Becker – Good morning beautiful girl.
Cass – Good morning, I smiled as I typed.
I hated and loved the way Becker made me feel. I always thought how cheesy it was when guys and girls said stuff like that. I didn’t find it cheesy with Becker. I found it soothing, like a warm bath.
I spent my day texting my new friends. First, it was Becker until he got on his plane. Alana texted next, asking me about the art show. I tried to tell her I would meet them there to keep them from having to backtrack. She insisted they were picking me up. They already made reservations at Pataskala, a five-star restaurant in Warwick. I went there once for my birthday. My sixteenth birthday. It consisted of my dad and the office crew, including Matt and Marti. That’s pathetic.
I didn’t give Matt a hard time at all. I was giddy with joy, looking forward to a girls’ night out with my new friends. I knew I was being interviewed by all three of them. I knew it was to feel me out, see if they liked me or not. I would tell them that Becker and I are never going to be together and they would be shocked.
“What are you smiling at?” Matt asked, interrupting the movie inside my head.
“I was just thinking about something funny.”
“Share. I’m bored.”
“You wouldn’t understand. It’s a girl thing.”
“I can do girl things. Tell me.”
“It consists of my vagina and blood.”
“Oh. Yeah. I don’t do girl things.”
I laughed at Matt. That was the first time I had ever witnessed him being embarrassed. I could get used to holding the ball in my court. I liked it.
By three o’clock, I was so done. I couldn’t sit in the car watching boats. Boats and barges. I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted out of that cramped car, away from the smell of coffee and cigarettes, and away from Matt’s classic rock. Don’t get me wrong. I can listen to Bob Seger anytime, but there are only so many times in one day one can listen to “Like a Rock.” I wanted to tie a rock to Matt’s leg and throw him to the bottom of the river every time he played.
“Can we go?” I whined.
“It’s only three. You said you didn’t have to be home till five.”
“I’m going to an art show with some girlfriends. I kind of wanted to go shopping for something to wear.”
“Go over there.” He pointed to the row of vendors selling souvenirs to ignorant tourists, paying three times as much for something they could buy elsewhere.
“And buy what? I need something not tie-dyed.”
“They have other stuff. I bought a button up shirt there once when a chick wanted me to meet her right after work. Go look. Here, bring me back a coffee.”
At least I was getting out of the car for a little bit. It wouldn’t hurt to look.
Although I tried hard not to admit it most of the time, Matt was right. I found a complete outfit, perfect for the evening. It was sort of old fashioned looking—a long, flowing sundress, navy blue with a wide white belt that rested low on the hips. The silver buckle had four chains, dangling in the middle. The Jesus-like sandals were white with silver clasps, circling my ankle. I bought a new eyeliner and some pale pink nail polish.
I could paint my toes in the car. I never really painted my finger nails. Every time I did, I picked and chewed at them anyway. I was better off not even bothering. My toes were always painted. I think I kept that up from my mother. She painted our toes different every other day. I swear she had a finger nail polish addiction. It didn’t matter what store we were in, we had to go see if they had anything new. “If your feet are sexy, you’ll feel sexy,” she told me once. My dad gave her heck for saying sexy in front of me. She giggled, finding it funny. I wish I could hear it again. It’s one of those things you remember and know you’ll never forget as long as you live, but you can’t hear it anymore. The sound your teenager made when he was a newborn baby, the way your grandmother smiled with her eyes, or the way your mother lit up an entire room with her laughter. It was there. It was always there. You knew it, you just couldn’t see or hear it anymore.
***
I was excited to invite someone in my house for the first time since I’d moved in with my grandmother. I could entertain there every day. It’s amazing what change will do to a girl’s self-esteem. I truly did feel better about myself, having less clutter in my life. Maybe it was just being around Becker. He made me not feel awkward, or worry about saying something stupid. He made me want to say the silly little things I said. I didn’t think it had anything at all to do with being immature the way Matt made me feel. I just liked being silly and having fun. The office didn’t really have room for personalities like mine. I was too much like my mother and the rest of them were too serious, like my father.
I twirled like a little girl in my new dress. My hair was in a messy ponytail in the back of my head with one strip, hanging over my right eye. Thanks to Justine’s fascination with hair, makeup, and nails, I’d learned a few things about applying makeup to look natural and not fake.
Skipping excitedly to the ringing doorbell, I opened it, hoping I was dressed in accordance with the rest of them. I was. Alana wore a dark gray pencil skirt with an off-white blouse. She looked professional, but then again, it was her show. She had to. Christina wore a white sundress with red and silver sandals and Britney wore a long, straight Maxi dress. I was perfectly matched to blend with the girls.
“Come in,” I smiled.
“I love this. Where did you get it?” Christina asked with a little too much excitement.
“Oh, from a vendor down by the bay. I love it, too. I knew I had to have it as soon as I saw it. What?” I asked, trying to figure out what the plastered smiles were on all three of them.
“It’s Christina’s,” Alana answered my question.
“What do you mean?” No, it wasn’t. I bought it with my own hard earned money.
“I designed it. I have stuff consigned all over the place. You have no idea how happy this makes me,” Christina boasted, beaming from ear to ear, showing bright white teeth behind brighter red lips.
I gasped, feeling her excitement, too. “You designed this. I love it. Oh my god. You’re good. You’re really, really good. You’re a genius. I thought of a sexy June Clever the moment I saw this dress. You’re going to be very successful.”
“You think?”
“Most definitely. We should celebrate. Do we have time for a drink?”
“We always have time for a drink,” Alana assured me.
Stupid me. I didn’t realize when I excitedly decided to offer drinks that I had nothing to offer. “Um, we may have to wait. I don’t think I have much to offer,” I said, coming clean.
“You do. Becker filled your liquor cabinet. He made us buy a little bit of everything because he didn’t know what you liked,” Alana said, moving to my grandmother’s china cabinet.
That was the only piece of furniture left of hers in that room. I’m sure they kept it for sentimental reasons, but there really wasn’t any. Maybe to Justine. It was given to my grandmother when her grandmother moved to a retirement home. I liked it there just fine. I was just taken aback a bit. I hadn’t even noticed the new glasses on the shelf.
“How did you know that was there?” I asked, seeing Alana take out four glasses and a bottle of Patrón.
“I put it here. Oh, I’m sorry. Becker didn’t tell you we helped?”
“No. Now I’m totally embarrassed. I can’t believe you guys saw this place before. I was going to clean it up, I swear.”
Britney drape
“Why?” I asked, not understanding.
Alana handed us all a drink. “We asked the same question when we met him. Why? I still ask that question, but I hate to think where I would be had I not met him. At first, I was like, oh hell no. I’m not sharing. No man is worth that. Becker is.” She smiled. “Becker has a way of bringing out the best in everyone. So does Mason. Speaking of, we need to go. We’re meeting Grace and Chloe at the restaurant.”
I rode the backseat with Alana. Listening to the girls chatter back and forth baffled me. They acted like girls going out to have fun for the night. Oblivious to the fact that they were all getting it in by the same man. What did they think about that? I mean, not one of them seemed to care. How could they not care?
“Okay, ask us anything,” Britney said through the rearview mirror, stopped at a traffic light.
“Huh?”
“You know you have a million questions about all this. Ask away.”
“Oh, it doesn’t really matter. I’m fine with it. I love the fact that you guys get along like you do. I’m not going to be number four, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Yeah, being’s how Becker promised we were a complete family,” Alana taunted. “We knew we were doomed the moment he started talking about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was in love with you when you were a character on the computer. Don’t dismiss the idea without thinking about it first. If you make Becker happy, you’ll make us happy.”
“But I’m different. I’m a slob. I never clean up after myself. I’m always late. I am a terrible cook, and I’m not sure I’d be able to share. I know I couldn’t share. How does that even work? I mean does he like take turns sleeping with you? Do you know it when he’s in bed with one of the others? I can’t imagine lying in bed hearing that, or thinking about what was going on.”