Real Challenge (Atlanta #2) (33 page)

“You are a good friend, Jennalyn Roche,” Cassie said with a big hug. “Thank you.”

“You are too, Cassidy Walker,” she said while returning the hug. “Now before we crash out for the night, I have to know one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you given up on hottie Scottie?”

Cassie slumped in her seat. “I’m not sure.”

Jenna gave a small smile. “That means you haven’t given up completely. That’s a very good thing, Cass.”

Cassie shrugged. “I miss him, Jen, but I think Marc scared him off today, maybe permanently. I wish I knew why he came over.”

Jenna rubbed her hand on Cassie’s shoulder and smiled gently at her friend. “You’ll figure it out, Cass. In the mean time, we should sleep.”

“Yep. Goodnight, Jenna,” Cassie said as she laid back into the couch.
 

Jenna curled up on a line of floor pillows and closed her eyes.

The next morning, they woke up refreshed. Cassie smiled through a deep breath. Last night’s girl-time did wonders for her spirit. Add to that a pending morning of thrifting and she was set, at least for a while. Jenna made a quick breakfast while Cassie did a short Yoga meditation, and the girls were ready to be out in a sea of used furniture, wearing sloppy-weekend-fabulous outfits.
 

“I say we hit that thrift shop by Chibbs Market,” Cassie said. “There’s always a lot of small furniture pieces there. Plenty of end tables to choose from, I predict.”

“That works for me,” Jenna said with a smile. “Let’s go to my parents house first and get my dad’s truck.”

Just over an hour later, the two were browsing through row upon row of used furniture, hoping to find just the right piece for Jenna’s new living room in a style that fit somewhere between subtle and Cassie.

“Maybe we’ll have to find another shop,” Jenna said after turning down another table. “Nothing looks right.”

“Don’t give up yet. We still have another entire row down here. I bet we’ll find you something.”

“Ok, so entertain me in the mean time. What’s going on in your head this morning?”

“Too much,” Cassie admitted with a defeated smile. “I can’t stop thinking about Scott or my dad. So I’m trying to focus on joy like always. It’s usually not this complicated to find it.”

“So try one at a time. What about your dad? Would talking to him bring you joy?”

“Probably not. Plenty of drama, I’m sure. Especially where Marcus is concerned. But the potential for joy is there, I think. Forgiveness, healing…that’s joyful, right?”

“I suppose,” Jenna answered. “But is that even possible at this point? I mean, I know the little bit you told me about him. Is the hurt too much to heal? To forgive?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Cassie said solemnly. “Plus there’s Marcus. He would flip if he even knew I was considering it. Maybe he’ll feel betrayed. He had it so much worse.”

“Then maybe he’s the one you should talk to. I’m not biased, but I don’t know the whole story. He
is
biased, but he understands more than I do.”

Cassie nodded as she ran her fingers along the top of another table they looked at. “Maybe I should.”

Jenna passed on that table and then said, “Cassie! Look at this one!”

Cassie looked over to a square, rich brown table. Four drawers stacked to form the base, but the unique aspect was the drawer-pulls. Each opened from the corner of the table rather than the front. The effect was subtle but unique.

“That’s perfect, Jen!” Cassie beamed. “How much?”

“Fifteen bucks.”

“Sold!” Cassie said like an auctioneer, pounding her fist-gavel on the surface.
 

After paying for the table and retrieving a flat-bed cart from the loading area, the two were ready for some lunch and then a trip to Jenna’s apartment so Cassie could see the table in its rightful spot. They picked up sandwiches on the way to her place and carried the table up a flight of steps together.

“Jenna, you’re place is great,” Cassie said, looking around and smiling. “This is perfect for you.”

“Thanks,” she beamed. “I loved it the minute I saw it. And I’m glad it’s part of a house rather than a big apartment block. Feels more homey this way.”

“Definitely. I’ve always loved these big old houses. The woodwork alone is to die for.”

“Right? Kitchen’s that way. Can you get waters? I’m going to load up my new coffee table drawers,” Jenna said with a big smile. “My tv remote finally has a home!”

Cassie laughed and got extra lunch supplies. They talked more about work at the clinic and all their favorite kids who came in, and then moved the topic to potential decor ideas for Jenna’s apartment. Self-defense class rounded out the discussion before Jenna decided that Cassie needed to get out of her circular thinking, at least where Scott was concerned. That relationship wasn’t as complicated as the other.
 

“Hey, Cass?”

“What?”

“Call him.”

“Which one?” Cassie asked with half a smile.

“You know which one. Even if it’s over, you need to talk. Otherwise, your brain will just spin out of control forever.”

Cassie sighed and picked at invisible lint on her jeans. “I guess you’re right. You know what? You
are
right.”
 

She picked up her phone and fired off a text.
 

“What did you say?”

“I’m going to the barn,” Cassie said. “I asked him to come meet me. Can you drive me home so I can get my car? I’m going to spend the rest of the day out there, maybe even the night. Who knows. But I’m leaving my phone at home so I can just think. If Scott shows up, then we’ll have a chance to talk. If not, I’ll know it’s really over.”

“Wow. Ok. I hope it works out, Cass. I want to see you happy again.”

“Thanks Jen,” she said with a hug. Both girls gathered their things and went out to the truck. Less than an hour later, Cassie was at the barn, laying back in the hay and letting her brain sift through all her issues. The whole time, her ears listened carefully for the sounds of a car door. After three hours, she gave up on Scott.
 

After his run-in with Marcus, Scott left Cassie’s house in one piece, thank God. He drove straight back over to his yuppie apartment complex with all the other impressive people and he hated all of them. They were just like who he had been trying be. He was so sick of his standard beige walls and big screen tv. He missed the color and life of Cassie’s house and the energy he had there. He walked grudgingly up to his door, and crashed on his oh-so-impressive leather recliner.
 

He stared at the wall for what seemed like hours. Even when dinner time came around, Scott didn’t feel like eating. Nothing seemed right. Even the thought of his redirected career path only took him so far toward happiness. He needed Cassie for the rest of his joy. He busied himself with laundry and other mindless chores, moving like a zombie through his apartment while he did.
 

Physically exhausted from the pool and mentally exhausted from the rest of his life, Scott crashed out very early that night, and somehow still couldn’t sleep. The vision of Cassie’s tears and Marcus’s description of how badly she was hurting…that’s all his mind could focus on. There was no peaceful rest to be had.

Eventually Scott fell into a fitful sleep. In the morning, he needed the pool again. He was sure to find at least some happiness there. He grabbed his swim bag and drove straight to Georgia Tech and parked in the staff lot. He smirked at himself.
Not soon enough
, he thought. But when he got out of the car, he couldn’t go in. He banged his head softly against the door, then turned around and left again.
 

He realized in that moment that he didn’t need to swim. He needed Cassie, and even though he may have lost her, he didn’t have to give in completely. She changed him, or at least a part of him, and that part was his favorite. He couldn’t let go of his new life, even if he was forced to let go of Cassie. He drove across town and straight to Cassie’s favorite flea market.
 

He walked into the din of the market and raked his hands through his hair. He took a deep breath and started wandering. He remembered the first thing Cassie pointed out to him. She had seen the brass gear as a coaster. He had seen it as something for the recycle bin. But now, he walked around by himself and tried to picture that brass gear as something different. He tried to imagine the shape through Cassie’s eyes.
 

He almost laughed to himself when he dismissed the idea of “coaster” and loved the idea of “ninja star.”
Now that would be playing
, he thought to himself with a smile.
 

Maybe he could do this after all. He figured out who he was. He was ready to lose the corporate drive and fancy suits and accept the continued offer to teach and coach at Georgia Tech. He would only make a shadow of the salary he made as an accountant, but he didn’t care, especially if he dove in to Cassie’s simplistic world completely. That’s where he wanted to be anyway.

Encouraged by the “ninja star” spark of creativity, he began perusing through the variety of junk laid out on table after table. He had no idea what he may be looking for and was completely overwhelmed. Still, he would make this work. This was the
real
Scott going through the flea market and he still loved a challenge.
 

He found nothing to inspire him, though, and he didn’t have the gumption to look at each individual item through Cassie’s eyes. By the time he got to the second floor, he was feeling less inspired and more frustrated. Even the ride up the freight elevator was a bitter reminder of what he lost. How was he supposed to do this? He wanted to keep a bit of her inside of him. But then he realized to keep her with him, he only had to relax and
be
. He didn’t have to try and impress himself or anyone else with this challenge.

Renewed by his revelation, he stopped fighting himself and let go. He searched through the junk without trying. He perused with a smile. He wasn’t in need of finding Cassie. If he could hang on to plain old Scott, she’d be with him in some way, even if from a distance. He moved from booth to booth, not finding anything, but not giving up either. For the first time in two weeks, Scott felt real.
 

At about the eighth booth after his renewed energy, Scott saw an over-sized blue marble with a dark turquoise swirl through the center. If ever there was a perfect metaphor for Cassie in his life, this was it. This marble shimmered with swimming-pool blue surrounding the whimsical color from Cassie’s living room walls. She was right there, changing him from the inside, depicted in glass that had been originally intended for play. The marble was worthy of her jar of joy. He had come to the market to find
her
, but he ended up finding both of them. He paid for the marble within a moment of seeing it and felt a thousand times lighter with the glass in his hands.
 

He walked back to his car, not even bothering to put the marble in his pocket. He wanted to hold on to the two of them, even if only the metaphor. He kept the marble in his hand the whole way home. He rolled the glass ball in his fingers and contemplated the implications of his new way of thinking. There was no more corporate ladder to climb. He would quit his job the minute Georgia Tech made his open-door offer official. If they wouldn’t, he’d find another way to coach or teach. The pool was where he belonged.
 

He laughed because Cassie had probably known that all along. That’s why she tattooed a swimming scene on her hip rather than a laptop and a few damn beans to count. He walked into his apartment and checked his phone. He had a missed text message. He must not have been able to hear the ping over the noise of the flea market. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that the sender was “Idont Thinkursmooth” and he laughed. He wasn’t smooth at all anymore and he didn’t care one damn bit. He opened the text and read, “
Let me apologize. I’m going to the barn to relax and I’m leaving my phone at home so I can think. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Scott sprinted straight back to his car and tore off in the direction of the old barn. She left that message for him hours ago. He desperately hoped she would still be there. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being there, waiting for him, and then giving up. He didn’t want her to think for one second that he wasn’t racing to her as fast as he could. He said a prayer to whomever might be listening that she was still there, waiting for him.

He just about broke land-speed records driving into the rural area outside of Atlanta. He had to get to that barn and escape in an alternate world with Cassie and explain how much she had done to make him understand himself. He was completely broken down to his elemental pieces by her, and he wanted her to see every raw fragment. He needed her to know she had nothing to apologize for. The very concept was ridiculous. He had to tell her that he finally knew who he was; he had a definitive answer to that no-longer-irritating question.
 

Still with the marble in his hand, he pulled up to the barn and saw Cassie’s car there. He wasn’t too late and his heart leapt. The marble felt hot in his hand from holding on for so long. He wanted to let Cassie feel the heat and know how
real
all of this was. The rush was intoxicating. He hurried to the door of the barn and rolled the creaking wood along it’s tracks. He jogged inside and called out to Cassie as soon as he passed the threshold. Scott ran straight over to the ladder. He couldn’t get to her fast enough. By the time he was at the top, Cassie was there waiting for him.

After two solid, miserable weeks apart, the two embraced each other painfully tight, but neither could let go or ease away. There was too much time lost to waste any more shying away from what they both wanted. The connection was powerful and couldn’t have been broken by anything in that moment. Scott felt whole for the first time in his life. There were no more polarized halves, there was only the true him, completed by her.
 

Still holding the embrace, Scott eased Cassie around to his side so he could walk back to the cozy area surrounded by straw bales. She allowed him to walk her through the maze and sit with her on the quilt they made love on all those months ago. He had no idea what to say or where to start, but at least she was there with him, hanging on as tightly as he was.