Picked by Jettie Woodruff
“We’d be lying if we said there wasn’t some jealousy going on there. Becker is really good about it. We don’t really know when he texts one of us to come to his room. We never discuss the sex and it’s something we share with only him, not each other.”
I raised my eyebrows, thinking about it. “Like how often is that? Does he go every night, how does that work?”
“Becker’s not about that. He’s fine with sex twice a month. It’s not about sex,” Christina said from the front seat.
“What’s it about?”
“Hmmm… I think it’s about inspiration. None of us thought we’d ever be where we are. Look at you. You’re wearing one of Christina’s dresses. Britney is studying with some of the top chefs in the country, and me—we’re on our way to a gallery where my paintings are,” Alana explained. “None of us would be where we are without Becker. It’s not like a marriage at all. We’re free to come and go as we please, so is he.”
“But that doesn’t sound like the stuff I’ve read or seen on television at all.”
“Becker isn’t like that. He doesn’t want to control anything. He wants you to be happy, and he will do everything in his power to make you happy. You don’t have to decide anything right now. Becker would never expect you to move right in,”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I had nowhere else to go,” Christina explained. My mom moved in with some guy while I was in juvie. He didn’t want me there.”
“How did you meet him?”
“I got into his car.”
“You just jumped in the car with some random stranger?” Even I wasn’t that dumb.
“I’m lucky Becker pulled up when he did. I was trying to score a hit on the streets back home.”
“Where’s home?” I interrupted.
“Pittsburgh. The two guys I was trying to get to hook me up wanted to take it out in trade. They were being very insistent and demanding, pulling me by my arms to their stabbing cabin. I wasn’t about to be stabbed by either of them. Becker was in the mass of traffic. He called over the top of his car, ‘Hey. I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on. Get in. We’re late.’ I got in and he brought me here.”
“And you moved here? To his mansion?”
“Yup. That pretty much sums it up.”
“But when did you actually start like dating?”
“Pretty much from day one. We flirted, kissed, and stuff like that.”
“How long before you had sex?”
“I told you, Becker’s not like that. It’s not about sex with Becker.”
She never did tell me how long before they had sex. She derailed it. I didn’t understand it. Not at all. “Didn’t you think he was crazy when he brought Alana here?”
“No. I knew from the get go. Becker explained to me how he was raised in a house of power with too many wives and kids. I’ll let him tell you about that. I always knew that he wanted more than one wife. What the hell, I had nothing else. I couldn’t imagine not having these girls in my life.”
Both Alana and Britney agreed. Britney told me her story next. She’s the one that her sister called the firm. She was living in a shelter when she met Becker. Her mother was a drunk, living wherever the party was, and her sister lived in a small, two bedroom apartment with three little boys. She was the Hallmark movie. Poor waitress, trying to make a living on pennies. Becker was in town for a promotional exhibit in Houston, Texas. He took her out to eat and to a movie that night and she left with him the next day.
Alana was the only one who lived at home with her dad. He’d just remarried the devil and Alana hated her. She tossed every oil painting Alana had ever painted out to the garage. Alana’s mother had hung them all up with pride and her new stepmother hated them. Alana put her foot through every one of them as they leaned against the garage. She was never going to make it as an artist, and she was never going to be able to afford to go to school. Becker saved her. Becker saved all of them, but I didn’t need saving. I had a home and my dad loved me, sort of, in his own way.
Chapter 13
Chloe and Grace were just as pretty as Becker’s girls. They waved while the hostess showed us to their table. I heard similar stories from the two of them, both heading down the wrong path when they met Mason. Grace was from the same town as Alana. She called her one day crying, after the guy she was with beat the hell out of her. She tried to leave and he assured her he’d kill her first.
“It was love at first sight,” Grace explained.
Chloe was hitchhiking in the pouring rain after her car broke down. Lucky for her, Mason and Becker were in New York, heading to the airport. A few more minutes and her fate could have taken a different road. They just opened a coffee shop/bookstore together close to the college we were going to see Alana’s work displayed.
I loved them. Both of them. They looked a lot alike, both with blond hair. Noticing for the first time that the other three looked a lot like them, too. All five of them had long blond hair, similar in size, and plain pretty. Like not all snobby and fake pretty, just down to earth plain pretty. That puzzled me a bit. I was a brunette. I was the minority. Wondering if it was a coincidence or not, I sipped my wine, observing the table chatter amongst the girls. It baffled me. How could a unity like that work?
Alana was amazing. Really amazing. I gazed at one of her paintings. It was dark, yet light. The storm clouds were dramatic with one orbiting beam of light. I was in awe. She was a true artist if I ever saw one.
“What do you see?” she asked, bumping my shoulder.
“I don’t want to tell you. I’m probably way off.” I smiled her way.
“That’s the beauty of art. You can feel what you feel, not what anyone tells you to feel.”
I studied the painting delicately displayed on a golden easel. “I feel like it’s saying there’s always a light. No matter how much darkness is around you, there’s always a light to guide you. Maybe the waves crashing into the boulders are obstacles that get in your way, but the light’s still there. Like it will always be there.”
“I love it. And yes, you’re exactly right, only the light represents Becker. I owe him a lot. You should give him a chance.”
“Did he pay you to say that?” I joked.
“He would do something like that, but no. He didn’t. He really likes you.”
“But you were all taken from broken lives. My life was just fine when I met Becker.”
“Was it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get defensive. I just mean, well, I saw your house. There’s something in your life not working out for you. Clutter is a sign of something amiss.”
“Yeah, I had a counselor tell me that once.”
“See. Counseling. You obviously have something going on.”
“That was a long time ago. I haven’t been to counseling in years.”
“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, you have my number.”
Nobody pried. Everyone got along so well. I didn’t understand it. Nobody could understand it. I loved these girls, every last one of them. We all talked and joked like we’d known each other for years. It felt, well, right.
We were saying our goodbyes to Chloe and Grace when we saw them. Becker smiled right at me, not Alana, Britney, or Christina—at me. I smiled back, feeling the pull between us strengthen a little more.
“You made it,” Alana exclaimed.
He smiled and kissed her cheek.
Yeah, I couldn’t do this. I was already jealous, watching Becker walk around with Alana on his arm. Nope. This wasn’t for me.
“It gets easier,” Britney informed me, seeing what I was seeing.
Becker knew what I was feeling, too. He smiled weakly, listening to Alana talk about her art. I sighed and raised my eyebrows.
“So is this like Alana’s night?”
“Yes. Had he been home he would have made it all about Alana. He’s really good at making you feel like a million bucks.”
“Cass, wait,” Becker called, following me out.
I stopped and spun on my sandals. “Becker. I can’t do this. I can’t see you anymore.”
“Why, Cass? Because you can’t handle the fact that you’re not like everyone else?”
“What? That doesn’t even make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense. Look. I’m not asking anything from you. I just want to see you. Can you give me that?”
“Why, Becker? This is never going to work for me. I love Alana and I’m ready to rip her head off for being that close to you. I can’t do this. I’m going to go home tonight, thinking about her being in your bed.”
“Cass, it’s not like that.”
“What do you mean? Do you mean you’re not going to fuck her tonight?”
“No. I’m not. I’ve never fucked her or any of the other girls.”
“Right. You make love. Yeah, I’m not into that, either.”
Becker snickered and then tried to cover it up. “What do you like?”
“Beck. Just go. Please. Let’s forget this.”
“I have to get back to Alana. If it weren't for that, I’d come home with you. I have to make it about her tonight, Cass. It’s not fair to her. She’s accomplished a lot in the last nine months. She deserves my undivided attention, but I’m coming over tomorrow night.”
“Go.” I waved him away with an open hand back toward Alana. The Alana who would be sleeping with him.
“I’ll call you.”
“Yeah, tomorrow, right? Alana’s night,” I reminded him with a smirk.
“Don’t be like this, Cass,” Becker said, but still walked away, back to Alana. He’d always walk away. He would never fully be mine. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t share. I wasn’t that type. “I’ll call you later.” He nodded, ducking back inside.
Mason rode home with Chloe and Grace, Alana went with Becker and I rode in the backseat with Cristina and Britney in the front. The lighthearted atmosphere I’d felt before was replaced with animosity toward the whole screwed up situation.
“We know what you’re feeling,” Christina assured me from the front seat.
I didn’t respond. I stared out the window, wanting to be home. There was no need for us to have this conversation. Nothing would change it and Becker would never leave them for me. He loved them. I could see it.
I didn’t invite them in when I was finally home. I thanked them and they left, telling me again how it got better. Didn’t matter that time, either.
Reverting back to my old ways, I removed the dress I’d been so excited about earlier. Kicking it to a pile on the floor, I dialed Justine. I poured my heart out about all of the acrimony I was feeling. She listened to every sobbing word without interrupting once.
“Well, let’s move on. Forget him and go out with Paul. We’ll double date, go out to eat and maybe a movie.”
“I don’t want to date anyone, Justine. Let’s make a pact to never do that again.”
“Yeah, in your dreams. I like sex too much for that. Come on. We’ll go see the newest Ben Affleck movie.”
“We’ll see. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I better get to bed. I have to drive into the office tomorrow for a midweek briefing.”
“Okay. I’ll text you.”
Staring up at the ceiling, I thought about the evening. I almost thought I could be a part of it, be a part of a family again. Laughing and joking with all the girls was a lot of fun. I could be their roommate easily. It was easy to think about that. The thinking about him naked in bed with them was the part I couldn’t grip.
***
“Has it helped? Are you learning something?” my dad asked from across the table. What did he think I was going to say when he asked in front of the whole office?
“Yeah, it’s been fine,” I lied, turning my attention back to the window. A bird dove toward the ground, probably eating a bug or something.
My dad went around the table, getting the low down on everyone’s week so far, except mine. I didn’t have one. I was just a tagalong, more in the way than not. I sighed, pitying my sad life. I should’ve been happy I met him at all. I would have never been able to afford the things he did to my house. I could see myself there alone for the rest of my life. Maybe I’d just get another cat or two. The cat lady. That’s what I’d become.
I didn’t reply to the text messages from Becker the night before and I wasn’t going to respond then, either. I tossed my phone to my top desk drawer and ignored it without reading. I moped around the office the entire day. I had nothing to do while Matt caught up on paperwork. Deciding it best to go home sick, I tucked my tail between legs and went to tell my father I was leaving.
“Sit.”
Great.
“What’s going on with you? You seem, I don’t know, down.”
“I’m fine. I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I’ve been doing a lot of work around the house. I think I over did it,” I lied, patting myself on the back. I pulled that one out of my ass. I wasn’t even thinking about it and I’d just covered my tracks.
“Yeah, I drove by the other day. You didn’t tell me you were getting a new roof. You okay? I can help you pay for it.”
“Nah, I’m okay. I still had a nice chunk from Grandma.” That was a lie, too. I didn’t have any of that twenty-five thousand left. I squandered every last penny. Justine and I went on two seven-day cruises, I bought surround sound that was never hooked up—until Becker did it. I bought a bicycle because I was going to start riding. Maybe I should start that. I wasted every penny until it was gone. I never could save money. I had to spend it and wonder what happened to it later.
I guess that’s where a lot of the clutter came from. I spent countless hours on the shopping channel, buying useless stuff that I never used. Like the clock with a hidden camera. I lived alone. What the hell was I going to do with that? Or the soft-serve ice cream maker. I could make ice cream anytime I wanted. Or I could use it once, decide it was a lot easier with less mess coming from the carton. I never used it again.
I blamed my dad for my frugal spending habits. He never taught me about saving, budgeting, or retirement. Buying me useless objects I’d play with in the backseat of his car for ten minutes before being bored with it was what he taught me. That’s what I did. As long as I had money, I had stuff. Most of it was gone. My house was clutter-free and I wasn’t even mad about it. I liked the clutter-free life.
“Cassandra?”
“Huh?” I dumbly replied, paying attention and trying to catch up. What did he say?
“I asked you how it was going out there with Matt.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. Just tell him. Tell him how much you hate being stuck in a car. Tell him how much you hate being an investigator. Just tell him!
“What can I do to help, Cass? I don’t know what you want.”
“Dad, I’m fine. I don’t want anything. I’m just not feeling well today. Can I just call it a day? I’m not really doing anything here.”
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” I said, standing.
He was lying. He never called to check on me. He’d go home, heat a TV dinner in the microwave, and watch CSI or Law and Order.
“Hey, where you going?” Matt asked, causing me to bend at the waist from his foot suddenly barricading me.
“Home. I don’t feel good.”
“You look fine to me. I was just going to show you how to add notes and send them over to your dad,” he explained, pointing to a program on his ancient desktop.
“You’re not seeing him, are you?”
“Who?”
That got me the look. “You know who.”
“I’m not seeing anyone. Stay out of my life. It’s none of your business.”
Matt stood and spoke right in my face. “I’m making it my business. Stay away from him,” he rasped.
“Hey, Matt. Fuck you,” I rasped in the same breath, making sure he felt my words on his lips the way his did mine. He grinned and stepped away.
Sitting in traffic, I inched my way through one mile. The short, little, one mile that would take me thirty minutes to travel. Ugh. I hated the city. Unable to resist, I read my messages. The first one was from Justine, telling me she made plans with her friend for Friday night. The next one was from Becker, the night before.
11:43 pm Becker – I can’t really talk to you tonight. Can we meet for coffee in the morning?
8:30 am Becker – Guess not. I’m sorry you feel this way, Cass. I wish you would give us a chance. Give the girls a chance. They like you. Alana didn’t shut up about you all night. She retold me the story you told her about checking my ass out online. I knew you liked my cartoon ass. I miss you. I want to talk to you.
9:21 am Becker – how’s work? It sucks? Oh, well you should probably just leave then. You could meet me for lunch. Splendid. I love that idea.
9:43 am Becker—Cass?
9:45 am Becker—Cass?
11:02 am Becker – Hey, guess what?
12:05 pm Becker – You didn’t guess.
1:04 pm Becker – You’re making me anxious. Say something.
1:30 pm Becker – That’s it. I’m calling you.
1:35 pm Becker – You didn’t answer.
I looked at the time before opening the dinging message.
1:47. I laughed, reading the chorus of, “You are my sunshine.” Great. It was never leaving my head.