I sighed, knowing she was perceptive enough to know if I hedged. “I’m not mad. I wish this hadn’t happened to you, I wish I could give you your career back, and yes, living with you again will be an adjustment, just when I was starting to adjust to being alone. But you’re my daughter, and there is nothing in the world more important to me than my daughters. You will stay with me until you’re ready to move out again, once you’ve figured out what you want to do.”
“What if I never do?” she whispered.
“You will. You’re too restless, you have too much energy and drive to stay idle.”
“I’m scared I’ll just go crazy. I’ve never thought about doing anythingbutdance, for my entire life.”
“I know. That’s what this period of time will be about—exploring your other passions.”
She laughed bitterly. “I don’t have any.”
“Nothing? There’s nothing, literallynothingyou like or love or are even interested in other than dance?”
“Dance history?” Another bitter laugh. “Can’t do much with that.”
I patted her thigh. “You don’t need to figure it out right this moment, Cass. Take your time. Give yourself grace—you’ve suffered a major setback, and no one, least of all me, expects you to bounce right back.”
She nodded. “I know. But…I guess I do. I expect that of myself.”
“Which you need to address.”
“I can’t just give up dancing entirely. I may not be able to dance professionally, but it’s…” She shook her head and sighed. “It’s part of me. It’s part of who I am as a person. I just don’t think I’d know who I am without it.”
“It’ll take time, Cass.”
She shook her head yet again. “Time in which I do what? Sit around watching TV? Wait tables and do drugs like Torie?”
“That’s not fair,” I scolded.
She sighed. “I’m angry, and bitter.”
“I know. You may need a therapist—for your emotions as well as your leg.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Cass—”
She opened her book. “Let it go for now, okay, please?”
I plugged a pair of earbuds into the TV screen in the back of the seat in front of me, and chose a movie to watch for the flight back.
*
Since our flightout of Paris had been booked two weeks ahead, I’d sent my flight info to Lucas with the last postcard. At the time, I hadn’t been sure why, but I hadn’t been able to talk myself out of doing so. I didn’t expect to see him at the Ketchikan airport, but a part of me hoped he would be there.
We deplaned for the second and final time at the Ketchikan airport, fought through the foot traffic to the luggage claim, and then hauled all of our stuff to the ferry dock—or rather, all of Cassie’s stuff. She had her entire life in four suitcases and two carry-ons, while I had packed fairly minimally, leaving with one stuffed suitcase and returning with two, as I’d purchased quite a few things during my seven weeks in Paris, and had ended up needing an additional bag.
I dreaded the cab ride home—we’d probably need two cabs, just to accommodate all of our luggage.
Cassie was all wide eyes as we struggled off the ferry with our luggage, gazing at the mountains all around, at the wide rippling gray-green water and the clear blue skies with a few puffs of clouds here and there…and, as if welcoming her, a bald eagle soared over the channel in the distance, screeching that iconic call.
“Wow,” Cassie breathed. “I always wondered why you moved here, of all places.”
I smiled. “Starting to understand?”
She nodded, blue eyes wide and sparkling. “Yeah, I get it now. I really, really get it.”
I was trying to figure out how to get us back to my condo, how to fit all this luggage and the two of us into a couple of cabs. I wished I’d just driven and parked my truck in long-term parking, but I hadn’t felt safe doing that, not knowing how long I would be away in Paris.
