"I want to go home," she said.
"The car seat?" Heath pointed in the direction of the car.
"We have our own. Maybe I can call you later," Brad said.
"Anytime."
They started to walk away.
Cassie felt poleaxed. "We don't get to say goodbye?" she asked, her voice rising, panic gripping her.
The couple stopped and stared at her. Anna clutched Danny tighter.
"Cassie." Heath put an arm around her.
She shrugged it off. "After all we've done, we don't get that much?" She'd thought she could keep herself together, but she was unraveling so fast she couldn't even feel her legs. The emptiness in her was replaced by one huge, beating heart with cracks running through it. "Danny-"
Heath put both arms around her. "They have to go, Cassie. They need to take him home."
The couple walked away, gravel crunching beneath their feet, the sound excruciating to Cassie's ears. All the splits in her heart widened into red-hot fissures. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggled to breathe.
The noise stopped suddenly, then started again, getting louder, coming closer.
Anna Torrance stood in front of her and set Danny in her arms. "Say goodbye," she said, tears still fresh in her eyes.
Cassie didn't hesitate to gather him close. Don't cry. Don't cry, don't cry. She wanted to be able to see his face one last time, to memorize it.
"I love you," she said close to his ear, then pressed kisses all over his face. "You be a good boy."
She started to pass him to Heath, but he shook his head. He'd already let go.
"Thank you," she said to Anna.
"I don't even know who you are," the woman said.
"My name is Cassie." She put Danny in Anna's eager arms, took a step back, then another, deciding she couldn't watch them drive off. She didn't have a key to the house, though, so she headed around to the back. After a few minutes she heard them leave. Soon Heath joined her.
All he did was look at her and she fell apart. An inhuman sound came from her, low, keening, desperate. Then the tears fell, long, hot, endless streams of desolation. She pummeled his chest until he caught her wrists and stopped her, yanking her into his arms, imprisoning her there, holding her so tight she couldn't breathe. It didn't matter. She didn't want to breathe.
She didn't know this person, this Cassie, except that she acknowledged she wasn't just grieving for Danny but for her mother and her grandfather and her broken childhood, and she was grateful to be in Heath's arms.
He didn't hush her, didn't speak at all, but his body was like steel. After a long time, she relaxed against him. "I need a Kleenex," she said.
"Use my shirt."
She smiled a little. The muscles in her face still hurt. Had he cried? She didn't know. She angled back to see for herself. No. He hadn't. His face was lined with loss and pain but he hadn't found comfort in tears, as she had.
He kissed her, a long, tender, sweet caress, then held her close again, looking toward the west and the setting sun. With the land cleared they could see forever. It seemed apropos. The sun set as their chapter closed. It just shouldn't be so beautiful, she thought. But dark clouds were on the horizon, absorbing the color, in magenta and orange and a majestic purple.
Now what? Where to go from here? she wondered. Where did this leave her and Heath? She'd just let go of someone she loved. Could she let go of another one so soon?
"Let's go inside," he said.
She would have her answers.
Fifteen
The door to the nursery stood open. It was the first thing Heath saw when they entered the house. That and a pacifier looking achingly forlorn in the middle of the coffee table.
He didn't move. Neither of them did. Finally he said, "Go get in the spa tub in my bathroom, if you want. I'll join you in a few minutes."
She nodded, looking beat. He watched her trudge up the stairs, then he walked through the house, finding bits and pieces of Danny, evidence he'd been there. His bouncy seat, a burp cloth, a fluffy blue blanket. The damned pacifier. He tossed it all into the nursery and yanked the door shut. Empty baby bottles he threw out. A pediatrician's appointment on the calendar he x'ed out.
He didn't want Cassie to see any of it. He would wipe out Danny's existence so she wouldn't cry anymore. He'd never heard anyone cry like that.
No, that wasn't true. Mary Ann had when Kyle-
He locked his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He was numb. Cold. Empty. And his penance wasn't done yet.
What was left? How much more punishment was there after being given another child to love, only to snatch him away? Take Cassie away, too?
He heard the water shut off upstairs. She would be waiting for him.
He schooled his expression as he went to join her, took off his clothes in his bedroom so that he could just slip in and not look at her face, not see the pain there.
She'd found a candle and brought it into the bathroom, leaving the lights off, making it easier to avoid looking in her direction. Was this it for them? The end? Had they forged the beginnings of something powerful or had it been as ephemeral as Danny's time with them?
"I could get used to this," she said as he settled behind her.
"To what?" Me?
"This tub. I think it's bigger than my entire bathroom."
It wasn't the answer he wanted, but what did he expect? They hadn't known each other all that long, and their relationship had grown out of one common interest, Danny. "You're a minimalist?"
"I'm a cheapskate. Plus I'm not there enough to need more."
"Yet you want a house big enough to hold a lot of kids." He leaned back, pulling her with him so that she rested against him. He didn't know how he could feel so lost and aroused at the same time.
"I've been saving. I'll get it, not too far in the future, I think."
He didn't want inane conversation. He wanted truth and reality-but he didn't want it until tomorrow. Tonight he just wanted Cassie.
He grabbed a bar of soap and worked up a lather with his hands then slipped them over her shoulders and down her breasts. She drew a quick breath and leaned more heavily against him.
"You're getting down to business," she said, her voice shaky.
"Pleasure." He wanted her. Needed her. She'd had tears as an outlet for her pain. Tears weren't an option for him. But holding Cassie, kissing her, making love to her-that would make his world tolerable again.
He whispered her name as he bathed her breasts leisurely. She groaned his name as he teased her with his palms. Her back arched as he used his fingers, drawing out her nipples, making them even harder.
He pushed a hand down her, between her breasts, down her stomach and beyond. A low sound came from her as he let his fingers delve and explore. His world turned hazy at the edges, but Cassie was in sharp focus in the center.
"Turn around." He wanted to see her face as he touched her.
Water sloshed to the edge of the tub but didn't quite spill out. The candlelight danced along her skin. There was a vulnerability he'd never seen before. Or maybe fragility, a word he never would have used to define her.
He stroked her skin, traveled the curves of her body with his hands, then his lips. She straddled him, bringing herself closer, wrapping her arms around his head and kissing him, her tongue hot, her mouth wet, her need obvious. She was sound and motion, earth and fire, contradiction and compromise. Her mouth slid to his jaw, then around his ear, down his neck, licking water drops. His skin rose in tingling bumps.
He put his hands on her head, stopping her as she reached his chest. He didn't want to relinquish control, not for a second, not yet. He was doing this for her pleasure first, only hers.
He eased her onto her back, lifted her arms onto the sides so that she could keep herself afloat as he pulled her hips higher and settled his mouth on her. She tasted of soap and Cassie, woman and want, present and future. Her heels dug into his back, raising herself even higher as he teased her, backing away, returning, backing away again. His thumbs made circles and dips, separating, searching, seeking what yielded the right sounds, sounds that told him she was headed for the point of no return.
The water churned as she moved her head from side to side, her hair floating sinuously around her head. He slowed down, made her gasp, made her reach, made her beg. There was nothing more important than her pleasure, nothing more urgent than to satisfy her need. He took his time in arousing her and found his own infinity in her gratification, loud and flattering and memorable then fading to a quiet aftermath of shudders and sighs.