“No problem whatsoever. I can give you her number, but she lives in Paris now. Our relationship is over.”
“What about Christmas?” Cassie cut in. “We’re supposed to have Lucas with us.” There was a wobble in her voice.
Trisha took Cassie’s hand. “I’m sorry, darling, but I expect the judge won’t let you go ahead with the plan. I’ll have to write a report, file the paperwork and, of course, we have to arrange for the paternity test. It has to be done properly. It’s likely the judge will cancel any pre-placement visits as long as the situation hasn’t been clarified. We can’t have Lucas getting even more attached to you in case… Josh’s father told the truth.”
“I understand.” But Cassie didn’t sound as though she did.
There was no reason to let the meeting drag on any longer. I thanked Trisha and escorted Cassie out of the office and out of the Department of Social Services building. A gust of frozen wind blew into our faces as we emerged into the road below. I took her under my shoulder and led her back to where our car was parked.
Inside the car, I switched the heating on and took Cassie’s hands between mine and rubbed to inject some warmth into them. She let me do it but we didn’t talk. I had to say something though, “I’m sorry, Cass. I’m truly sorry.”
Her eyes took time to focus on me and, when they had, she had a dazed expression. “What for?”
“For fucking up. It’s all my fault.”
“It isn’t anyone’s fault, Josh. Let’s not play the blame game again.”
“I never hid the fact that Lenor and I lived together. We were engaged for only a few weeks anyway.”
Cassie shrugged. “I agree, but the real issue bothering Trisha is if you’re not his biological father.” She couldn’t hold my gaze and all about her screamed defeat. “How are we going to tell Lucas we’re not spending Christmas together?”
Guilt hit me even harder. “We’ll give him a call tomorrow. Trisha didn’t say anything about Skype. We could—”
“—Skype?” Cassie’s voice cracked over that single word. I enveloped her in my arms and cursed the gearstick that stuck up between us. Her head snuggled in the hollow of my neck. “It’s his first Christmas without Jenna and Chris… and Alfredo. I can’t leave him on his own. I can’t.”
I kissed her temple and waited for the right words to come to me. They didn’t. I waited some more. “I’m sorry.” How fucking lame.
Cassie was crying. I couldn’t hear her but the tiny shake of her shoulders told me as much.
I had failed them. I had failed my wife and my son. I couldn’t let that happen again.
CHAPTER 19
Cassie
I didn’t remember much about my wedding day. I’d arrived late and Gran had gone apeshit, that I remember. I’d worn her wedding dress. I remembered that as well. It was very 70s, all frills and laces. It’d been December but I’d had daisies in my hair. I must have looked like freakin’ Laura Ingalls walking down the aisle.
The only thing that had mattered to me on that day was Josh waiting at the end of the aisle. He’d worn the same tuxedo as he’d had at Homecoming. It wasn’t as well-tailored as the clothes he had these days, but he’d looked like Prince Charming to the seventeen-year-old me. Pity our love story hadn’t turned into a fairy tale. But I guess princesses aren’t supposed to be knocked-up when they say ‘I do.’
I shook myself. Today wasn’t about me. Today was about my best friend and his bride.
“I’d heard about Bridezilla, but not Groomzilla.” I closed the door behind me and forced a smile onto my face. I wasn’t used to playing BFF to Clarissa.
“I can’t believe it.” She did a little pirouette in front of the full-length mirror and returned to admiring herself in her wedding dress. “He was so laid-back and then suddenly he started panicking about the flowers and the color of the napkins. He even started a crash diet last week.”
To be fair, Woodie had put on weight since the last time I’d seen him. Maybe Clarissa had practiced baking her cheesecake one too many times. I walked toward her until I could see my own reflection. I was the best man today and Clarissa had decided I had to look the part. She had made—with her own hands—a bespoke tuxedo, bow tie and all, just for me. So that was what I had on.
“You look beautiful,” I said, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror. I wasn’t lying or forcing myself to be nice. She was a very pretty thing today and, with the delicate lace covering her bosom, she was a very demure thing too. “Shall we?” I extended my arm as an invitation.
There were no bridesmaids, so Woodie had put me in charge of escorting his bride from her home to the church. I swear the guy was expecting her to run away. But, as the best man, I had to indulge the groom. So I did just that. I even helped Clarissa get out of her father’s SUV without staining or creasing anything. At least, my tuxedo wasn’t getting in my way.
The ceremony was all violins, happy tears and vows of eternal love… and yet more happy tears. I stood next to Woodie, keeping my eyes on him because I couldn’t look back and meet Josh’s gaze. I just couldn’t.
I was grateful to be the official driver because I managed to go to the barn where the wedding reception was, without having to talk to him. Even there, I played at being a busy bee, making all of Clarissa’s wishes come true.
I was a coward, but Josh wasn’t going to let me get away with it.
“Beer?” He handed me a bottle of Bud. “Given how you’re dressed, I thought it was more appropriate than wine.”
The venue was packed and I recognized some familiar faces dating back to high school. I wasn’t really in a social mood, but I’d rather have dealt with that than with Josh. I took a swig of beer and enjoyed its coolness and then I had another swig because I didn’t want to talk.
“Cass, stop it.”
“Stop what?”
He fixed me with his gaze and I felt damn stupid. I stared down at the tips of the polished black boots I’d bought for the occasion. “Sorry.”
Josh didn’t say anything. He came and stood closer to me. I expected him to touch me or something. He didn’t. He simply leaned against the wall and took another sip of his beer. He stared at the crowd around us and seemed completely relaxed. I started fidgeting because, as much as I hadn’t wanted to talk to him, I hated silence. He knew that, so he kept on with this little game. The dude could be such a cool customer sometimes.
“I’ve been avoiding you,” I blurted. He gave me his signature brow-arching stare. It always made me straighten up. “I’m so sad and sick about not having Lucas with us for Christmas. I don’t know where to put all these feelings.”
Anger flashed through his eyes and he came to stand next to me. “Then share them with me. That’s what being married is about, no? I’m a grown-up man. I can deal with it. For both of us. But you never let me.”
I didn’t want to be a damsel in distress. My hand flew to his face and brushed the sharpness of his jaw. “You don’t need to shelter me.”
Josh shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes or my miscalculations. I’m the reason you can’t have your son for Christmas.”
“My son?”
He frowned and I knew he hadn’t picked up on the nuance. So I continued, “Lucas is our son.”
“I know that. Listen, if it’s about what my dad said about Lucas not being mine—“
“—I know, I mean, I know you know Lucas is yours, genetically yours but…”
I wasn’t sure which words to use. It’d been there in the back of my mind since the day Josh asked for a second chance at Sweet Angel Point. That horrible question I wasn’t strong enough to ask myself or ask him.