Chapter 16
By late afternoon, Cain was exhausted, even though he’d barely moved from the passenger seat all day. He’d made several phone calls - one to Drew, who was still with Bas, and who’d promised to look into the Jesse situation, and another to the Fassbenders, apologizing for the sudden, terrible flu that had -gosh darn it! -prevented him from going on theirsuper-funski trip. But he’d put off the last phone call he’d needed to make as long as possible… until after they’d stopped for lunch, and then for groceries, until the car had started climbing up and up the side of the mountain and until Damon warned him they’d lose reception again if he didn’t do it soon.
Even then he’d hesitated, his fingers like lead as he’d located the number and hit Send.
“Cain Edward!” his mother had answered on the first ring. He’d had to squeeze his eyes shut, not because her tone was scolding - he was somehow beyond that now - but because ever since he’d left the Nashville house, he’d found it impossible to think of her without wondering how much of his father’s schemes she’d known about, and how much she’d gone along with.
“Hello, Mother,” he’d said, and he hadn’t had to fake the way the words came out slow and tired.
“What’s this I heard from Marnie Fassbender? You’re not going on the ski trip? And you didn’t have the courtesy to call her untiltoday? For God’ssake, Cain.”
“Did she tell you why?” Cain had asked.
“Something about a flu,” Lucy Shaw had said dismissively. “But you were fine last time I saw you.”
“Things changed. It would be far worse to get the entire Fassbender clan sick simply because you didn’t want to lose out on an opportunity to solidify a connection.”
“No, this is your way of defying me,” his mother had argued. “You’re no more sick than I am. There’s still time, if you leave…”
“Enough,” Cain had interrupted, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “I’ll assume you send your best wishes for my speedy recovery. I willnotbe going skiing. In fact, I only called because I wanted to know where you’d be spending Thanksgiving in case I felt well enough to join you.”
“Cain!” His mother had been shocked, and he couldn’t blame her. When was the last time he’d defied her more than once in a single phone call? Possibly never… No,definitelynever. “Why are you speaking to me this way?”
He’d heard his father’s voice in the background, asking questions, soothing his mother. “Leave him be, Lucy. He’s a grown man.” And then his father was holding the phone, speaking to him. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken directly - it had been months, for sure.
“Cain?”
“Yes?” He didn’t,couldn’t, add a “dad” to the end.
“Be respectful to your mother.”
“I always am,” he said, and then he fell silent, feeling no need to defend himself the way he always seemed to.
Was this what adulthood was like?
The senator seemed nonplussed by his deviation from their script. He sighed. “We’ll be heading to D.C. tomorrow for Thanksgiving. Will we see you?”
Not if he could help it. “If I’m feeling better, yes. Otherwise I’ll stay away.” Far, far away.
“Fair enough, son.” His father hesitated, then added, “Love you. Feel better.”
Cain disconnected the call and sat staring at the blank screen of the phone as Damon’s GPS guided them through the hilly terrain and into the driveway of the Shaw family cabin high in the Smokies.
Love you, feel better.
Damon cut the engine and unbuckled his belt, listening to something on his phone, but Cain just sat staring at the house for a long moment. The cement-and-glass house stood three stories tall, two floors of living space above a garage that had been carved into the mountainside. Steel balconies ran around three sides of the upper floors, facing out over the valley below, but from here, there were only four oval windows visible, making the house look vaguely like a giant rectangular spaceship that had crash-landed in the middle of the woods.
It was funny how the house looked so different now than when they’d first bought it - no more cozy log A-frame, no more wide front porch complete with rocking chairs. But although the structure of the house no longer resembled anything Cain remembered from his childhood, there were so many familiar things, too - the topography of the mountains that had been unchanged for millennia, the tall trees that still curved across the long driveway. There was a strange sort of symbolism in it. Despite the effort and buckets of money his parents had poured into making a showplace of something that should have been a haven, all of the essential things remained unchanged, for betterandfor worse.
He opened his car door and stepped outside. Pine resin and the wood smoke from some unseen neighbor’s fire lent an acrid tang to the air that was welcoming and comfortable. Though the sun still shone, the air was much cooler this high up, and he shivered slightly, until Damon made his way around the car and wrapped Cain in his strong embrace.
Damon was a little bit like the mountain. The fanciful thought took root in Cain’s brain, and he turned to bury his face in Damon’s chest. Damon was solid, unyielding. A comforting hope that had lived in Cain’s mind for far longer than Cain had even known he existed. Ahome.
Which was silly, really. He and Damon were…well. That was a damn good question, really. Lovers, but not. Friends, but not. He hesitated to put a label on it, because that implied a sort of permanence, and whatever they were, nobody had ever said it was permanent.
He pulled away to stand on his own.
“So how do we get in?” Damon asked, and Cain chuckled.
