Picked by Jettie Woodruff
“Becker. Stop. I’ll call you later.”
“Cassandra! What are you doing? Please tell me where you’re going.”
“I’m going to Matt’s house. I’ll call you later. Will you let me go? Please?”
Becker tossed both arms into the air, letting me go and sitting helplessly on the third step of my porch. I jumped in my old Honda and left him alone. I didn’t have time to stroke his ego. This was never going to rest, not until I found out who, what, and why. I had a right to know and Matt was going to tell me. Yeah, I should have probably went to my dad, but I felt better going to Matt for whatever reason. My dad would blow it off anyway, derail the conversation into something else. Matt was telling me if I had to choke it out of him.
The dry lump in my throat never did go away. It stayed stuck, right in the middle of my throat. I swallowed it down a thousand times, but it was still there. My fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel and my knees bobbed up and down. I wasn’t thinking about what I was going to say to Matt. I wasn’t thinking about being pregnant. I wasn’t thinking about Becker, or Cooper. I don’t think I was thinking at all. Again, I didn’t remember the drive there.
Anger crept up my spine, climbing up the back of my neck as I rammed the gearshift into park and slammed the door. Walking right to Matt’s mailbox, I took out the evidence. The cell phone bill, the electric bill, the personal letter from Ed McMahon, and the People magazine, all addressed to Matt McClelland. No wait. The magazine belonged to Jacob McClelland. Imagine that.
I didn’t knock on the door. I beat the hell out of it, pounding the red wood with my fists, both of them. I was fuming, ready to light into Matt like a bobcat on a rabbit at dinner time. What I wasn’t expecting was Jacob to answer the door.
“Oh, hello. Can I speak to Matt please?”
“He’s not here.”
“Oh, well, do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Not really. He’s working.”
“He is?” I questioned. It was seven o’clock on a Friday night. Where would he be working at that time?
“Yeah, I think so. No, maybe he went to the store. I don’t know where he was going. Can I help you with something? Is that our mail?”
“Oh, yeah,” I confessed, handing it over. Why the hell did “Oh” keep slipping out of my mouth? “So Matt is your uncle, huh?”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“My name is Cass. I work with him.”
Are you kidding me? Him, too? I watched Jacob’s face drop with the realization of knowing me.
“Well, it seems you have me at an advantage. You know who I am, but I’m not really sure who you are.”
“I don’t know you,” he stammered. “I’ll tell Uncle Matt you stopped by.” He nodded, closing the door. My foot stopped it.
“Not so fast. Where’s your mom?”
“I should call Uncle Matt.”
“Or you could just tell me what you know.”
“You in the harassing business now?” I heard Matt from the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?”
“You tell me, Mr. McClelland,” I said, feeling the anger again.
“Get out of here, Cass. Go see your dad.”
“No. Who are you? Why is your last name the same as mine?”
“I’m not doing this. Here, go put these away, Jacob,” Matt said, handing over a bag of groceries.
“He’s just going to lie. I have a right to know, Matt.”
“Did you talk to Becker?”
“Oh my god. Will you stop? I’m not here to talk about Becker.”
“That’s the only thing I am discussing with you. Jacob…” Matt nodded, giving the boy a look when he sat there in his chair with the bag.
“Tell her.”
“Jacob, go put the groceries away,” Matt warned.
Jacob narrowed his eyes, staring him down, but faltered first. Turning on his wheels, he obeyed his uncle, or whoever the hell he was.
“How are you related to me, Matt?” I asked, using Jacob’s same restricted glare. Was that a family trait? Matt did it, too, or did we both just pick it up from him throughout the years? “Is he related to me, too?” I asked, nodding to the closed door. He didn’t want Jacob to hear, but I had a feeling Jacob already knew more than I did.
“Cassie, let this go. There is nothing you can do about it now. Move on. It’s not going to affect the way you live in any shape or form. Nothing good will come from it.”
“Come from what, Matt? I have a right to know. How do you know my mother?” I wasn’t letting it go. No way in hell was I letting it go.
“Go. Talk. To. Your. Dad,” Matt insisted again, getting angry and speaking inches from my face. I wanted to gut punch him.
“Fine!” I screamed right back. I stormed off the front porch, furious. I would go to my dad. Someone was going to tell me what the hell was going on, one way or another.
“Cassie?” Matt called.
“What?!”
“I was young. I didn’t have a choice,” Matt softly spoke.
“Tell me, Matt,” I pleaded one more time, lowering my own voice.
“I can’t. Go see your dad.”
Sighing, I nodded and got in my car. What else was I supposed to do?
“Hey, you and Cooper want to go get pizza and maybe a movie later?” Justine said as soon as I answered my phone. I only answered it because I needed something to occupy my mind while I drove the twenty minutes to my dad’s house.
“No, he’s not coming. I’m sick. I think I picked up some stomach virus that’s been going around the office all week.”
“Bummer. How about tomorrow? What are your plans tomorrow? I think Cooper is here. Hunter was going over to see him.”
“I don’t know what’s going on for tomorrow yet, Justine. I have a lot going on right now. Can we talk later?”
“A lot, like what?”
“I’ll fill you in later. I’m not exactly sure just yet. Family things.”
“What family? Your dad?”
“Yeah, sort of. I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”
“Cass. I thought we were friends. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I will when I know. I can’t really tell you anything yet.” That wasn’t a complete lie. I would tell her about the baby. I was just waiting until after I told Becker, and well, now I had other things I needed to do first.
“I don’t get what’s going on, Cass.”
“I’ll tell you. I promise. Just give me some time. I’ll call you later.”
Chapter 29
I didn’t know why my nerves were jumping all over the place. What was he going to do, kill me? Walking up the cracked filled sidewalk, I breathed long, deep breaths, in and out. It didn’t work.
“What are you doing here? Thought you was sick?” my dad questioned, snuffing out the cigar that I smelled before I saw it.
“We need to talk, Dad.”
Settling back in his old plaid chair, my dad nodded toward the couch. He knew. I read it in his distraught face. He looked tired, wearied, and drained. I imagined he was tired of hiding the lie. The question was, what was the lie and why hide it?
“I need to know what’s going on, Dad. Why is Matt’s last name the same as mine?”
Swirling a glass of clear liquid that I was sure was whiskey, maybe vodka, my dad gulped it in one swallow. “Did you talk to Matt?”
“I tried. He won’t tell me anything. Dad, I know something isn’t right. Why have I been told my entire life that my mother died in September? She didn’t. I went to the cemetery. It was March. Why, Dad?”
Taking a deep breath he came clean. “Cassie, your mom did die in March. She was kept on life support because Matt got a lawyer and fought me tooth and nail.”
“Fought for what?”
“I wanted to turn off the machines. I was her husband. I had the right, not him.”
“Why?”
“Jacob. Your mom was six weeks pregnant. They delivered Jacob at twenty-eight we
My body went limp. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Jacob is my brother? You kept me from him all these years? Why?” I didn’t understand. Why would he do this? “Why is he with Matt?”
“Matt is my brother. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to put you through anymore. Months went by with your mother lying in that hospital being kept alive for a baby that wasn’t going to be right.”
“He is right. He’s very bright. I’ve met him.”
“I didn’t know that, Cass. I was afraid he was going to have issues. I couldn’t watch my son go through it. He should have had lots of issues.”
“He doesn’t, well, I don’t think so. His legs don’t work, that’s it. You should have told me.”
“I was trying to protect you. I wasn’t going to have you thinking your mom was coming home from the hospital. She wasn’t. She had zero brain activity, and I was afraid of what kind of life Jacob would have due to the lack of oxygen.”
“What about Matt? Where was he? He didn’t come here until I was twelve. I remember.” My head hurt. It was pounding from my temples to the base of my neck.
“There’s more, Cassie. There’s a lot more.”
Using my McClelland constricted eyes, I demanded answers. “Tell me.”
Taking a deep breath, my dad plopped to the back of his chair the way I had. “I have always loved your mom.”
“Go on,” I persuaded.
“She loved someone else more.”
“Who?”
“Matt.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your mother was only twenty-three when she died.”
“Yeah, so?”
“That would have made her fifteen when she got pregnant with you.”
“Okay?” I questioned. I didn’t get it. What was he saying?
“Matt was sixteen. I was twenty-three and just started as a deputy in Cory County.”
“Dad, just say it,” I coaxed, wanting it out already. The suspense was killing me.
“Matt got your mom pregnant, not me.”
“What do you mean?” I was beginning to sound like a broken record. How many times had I already asked that same question?
“They were so young. Matt was in and out of trouble. He couldn’t keep a job. He was flunking out of high school. He was expelled for smoking weed…”
“Dad,” I complained. I didn’t want a history lesson on Matt’s juvenile delinquent teenage years. I felt sick again, my hands were sweating like crazy, and my legs trembled. Surely not. He wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying.
“I sent Matt to military school.”
“Matt is…?”
“Yes, Cass. Matt his your biological father. We all agreed it was best he go away. Your mother was supposed to give you up for adoption. The family was there and everything. She couldn’t do it. I started going over to your grandma’s to get your mom out of the house. One thing led to another and—”
“You married her,” I said, finishing his sentence.
“Yes. Matt was furious, and we didn’t talk for years. We saw him on occasion, Christmases, weddings, things like that,” my dad explained, coming to his feet. Walking over to the kitchen table, he poured another drink.
“But there’s a picture of my mom and me on his porch. I saw it.”
“That was my father’s funeral. We were all there. Matt and I had a fist fight in the front yard that day. He wanted rights to you and I refused. He was an eighteen-year-old punk kid. He couldn’t take care of you. He couldn’t take care of your mother like I could. I tried so hard, Cass. I tried to be everything she wanted.”
“She loved you. I remember that. I know she did.”
“She did. I know that, too, but it wasn’t the same. You’ll know someday, Cass. You’ll find that one special person, the one you know without a doubt in your mind that he is right. He could be in love with ten other women and it wouldn’t matter. You would still know.”
I did know. I knew exactly what he was saying. I didn’t respond; I just stared at his broad shoulders while he talked with his back to me. I think it was easier for him to confess without looking at me.
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was wrong in trying to make her love me the way she loved Matt, for keeping you from him, for paying him to go away. I’m sorry for a lot of things, Cass, but raising you as my daughter isn’t one of them.”
“Matt’s my dad,” I quietly said, staring down at the ugly brown carpeted floor. It was more of a statement than a question. “And you’re Jacob’s dad,” I stated the next fact. How screwed up was that? Jacob was my cousin-brother, or was that possible?
A sudden feeling of fear and anger came over me. As much as I knew without a doubt that my dad did everything he did because he loved me and my mom, I was still mad. He had no right. He kept me sheltered away from the world. My childhood sucked, and it wasn’t like a little girl is supposed to remember. Not at all. I couldn’t help but think that things would have been different with Matt. Matt would have let me go to school, play sports, go to school dances, shopping, all the things little girls were supposed to do. It wasn’t fair. I should have been told.
“I have to go,” I decided, coming to my feet. I heard enough for one day. Telling Becker about the baby and finding out that my whole life had been a lie was all I could handle for one day.
“Cassie, please try to understand. I would never do anything to hurt you. I did what I thought your mom would want.”
My mom would have never wanted me kept from my brother. My mom would have never wanted you to give him away. As much as I wanted to blurt it out, I didn’t. I could see the hurt in his eyes, I knew how hard this was for him, and I did truly believe he was trying to protect me along the way. Hurting him more wouldn’t solve anything, and I was sure my mother wouldn’t want that, either. I nodded and left.
I didn’t know where the tears were. My emotions felt them, but they never came. The one thing I never understood was my grandma. The one on my mom’s side, the one who loved me, the one I took care of and watched wither away to a pile of bones. Why didn’t Grandma Belle ever tell me? How could she hide this from me? She knew about Jacob. Jacob was her grandson. How could she stay away from him? He was her own flesh and blood.
“Okay, now this is getting ridiculous,” I said aloud to the spectators sitting on my porch steps. What the hell was Cooper doing there? Better question, what the hell were they talking about? Okay, for real this time. After this encounter, I was done. I couldn’t take one more thing that day. I mean, come on, how much more was going to be dumped in my lap in a single given day?
“Cooper.” I nodded, looking directly at Becker’s smile. Spinning my keys on my finger, I nervously looked to Cooper.
“I brought you soup,” he said, holding up the brown paper sack.
Now I really felt bad. Cooper didn’t deserve what I was about to do to him. He’d been nothing but good to me.
“Thank you. Becker?” I questioned awkwardly. What the hell was I supposed to say? I had no idea what he’d said to him.
“Yeah, I’ll see you after bit. Like an hour?” he asked, but not really.
I knew it wasn’t a question. I knew Becker would be back in precisely one hour. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I had no clue what to say.
Sitting to the step beside Cooper, I dreaded the conversation I had to have. How the hell did you tell your boyfriend you’re pregnant with another man’s baby?
“You’re pregnant,” Cooper blurted. UGH. I was going to kick Becker in the shins.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m sorry, Cooper. I never meant to hurt you,” I confessed. I really didn’t want to deal with Cooper right now and I didn’t want to deal with Justine. OMG. I hit the ignore button five times. What the hell did she want? Looking down at her text message,
“Are you keeping it?”
I didn’t want to discuss that with Cooper, either. I knew what I did was bad, hurtful, and wrong, and maybe I owed it to him, but I didn’t want to discuss this part with anyone but Becker. I answered Justine’s call, trying to divert the conversation I wasn’t having with Cooper.
“Justine! What? Oh my god,” I exclaimed, wondering what the hell was so important that she spent the last twenty minutes blowing up my phone.
“Cass, click on the link I sent you.”
“Why? Now’s not a good time. Cooper’s here. I’ll look later.”
“Cassandra, look at the link I just sent you,” Justine whispered in my ear.
“Okay! I’ll call you back.”
“Make sure you do. Like right away.”
“Sorry,” I apologized to Cooper, swiping my thumb to the message and link Justine was so adamant that I looked at right that second. I was trying to focus on too many things at once. Cooper was saying something. I didn’t hear it. I mean, I heard it, I just didn’t comprehend a word he was saying. Reading the headline, I smiled.
Local young man, Cooper Nash, wins ten thousand dollar scholarship, all-expense paid trip to Indonesia, and a three thousand dollar Cannon Mark 111.
I smiled, happy for Cooper. At least he had his well-deserved trip to help with the knife I stabbed him with. I was happy for him. Three of his photos were winners in the national contest. Flipping my thumb to see his artwork, I decided this was it. No more. One person couldn’t take this much shit in one day.
The first photo was my light bulb, right here in my own house. The second one was the rescue I had captured while sitting in a car all day with Matt, and the third one was mine, too, the corroded soda can in the sand. My photos won for him. What a snake. Cooper Nash used my photos to win a contest. A huge contest with a gigantic payout.
Turning to Cooper and not giving a shit about what he was saying anymore, I couldn’t believe it. He was saying something about how I shouldn’t treat people the way I did. He wondered how I slept at night. Really? My mouth fell open a little with that. I should have confronted him, I should have called him out on his lies, his cheating ways, and his conniving, stupid ass. I didn’t. I didn’t even want to. I didn’t care. I had enough.