Marge indicated the direction Silas had disappeared. “I wonder if they’re doing okay.”
Cassidy was instantly suspicious.
“Aren’t you a little bit concerned?”
“No. And I can’t believe you’re asking me that.Hewas just—” she flipped her hand as though swatting away a fly—“atom. Isn’t that what you call him? I was simply a cat in heat to him. And I’d stopped with himbeforethe accident.” Standing up, she grabbed plates and cups and headed into the house.
“You won’t say his name,” Marge pointed out, following her.
Cassidy’s eyes watered; her throat tightened. “Fred is gone. My boat is gone. My bruises are still healing; my hair hasn’t grown in. I’m having dizzy spells the doctors say are psychosomatic. Why do I need to say his name?”
“What happened, Cassie? What happened on that boat?” Marge held up a hand as Cassidy was ready to repeat her list heatedly. “I know Fred is gone. I know your boat is gone. Did he do that? If so, what happened? If not, what did he do toyou?Why are you so angry?”
Her heart was racing; she was infuriated by the confrontation. Was Marge trying todefendMac? In a cold voice, she answered, “He was a monster.”
The words lay between them for a few moments while random far-off fireworks could be heard echoing across the lake through the open windows.
Slipping onto a barstool, Marge said, “He was in pain. He’d lost someone. You know what that’s like. And you did some horrible things while you were going through it, too.”
With a disgusted look, Cassidy turned away, glaring out the plate glass at the ongoing celebrations. Howdareshe compare what Mac did to Cassidy’s grief?
“You destroyed things. You struck out,” Marge reminded her.
“I destroyed myownthings. I punishedmyself.”
“You hit me more than once, Cassidy-girl. You fought me tooth and nail, dragging you out of your house and to the hospital. You were a wreck, and I don’t care that you don’t remember, and I don’t want you to feel bad or apologize.” She said it with affection and sincerity. “I’m reminding you what grief does.”
“I know what grief does,” she hissed.
“Whatever happened between the two of you, he didn’t come to you that night,” Marge pointed out. “Did he make it worse by drinking? Probably. Is it my place to judge? No. Is it yours? No. Does it make anything that happened right? No. But you need another perspective on this, sweet girl.
“Mac didn’t invite you into his pain; you walked into it. Not on your own, but you stepped into the middle of someplace you shouldn’t have been. He didn’t ask you there, and he wouldn’t have wanted you there.”
Cassidy’s gaze fixed on the sparks of occasional light decorating the lake. Her throat closed up, her pulse thudding heavily. She wanted to rebel against Marge’s words. It didn’tmatterthat he hadn’t wanted her there, she had been there for him, and he’d turned on her.
“Talk to him, Cassidy.”
Cassidy shook her head adamantly.
Marge let out a frustrated huff. “You are not a cruel woman, but you are withholding from him his actions that night. That’s cruel. Tell him he was a monster; tell him all the horrible things he did. Fill in those blanks, so he isn’t wondering.”
She raised her hands to her face. Could she look at Mac? Stand across from him and recount it? She didn’t think she could.
“Trust me. You’ll find it brings you more peace than it gives him.”
Cassidy didn’t believe her, but she dropped her hands. Curious, she gave Marge an accusing look. “Since when did you and Silas start championing him?”
Marge pointed a finger of warning at her. “There’s that tone again.” Lowering her hand, she softened. “Silas has been spending the past few days with him, teaching him about his boat; navigating the lake, cleaning it, taking care of it. And you were right about him, sweet girl. There’s more to him than just being a tom.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes and began to rinse the dishes. “So now he’s your new pet project.”
“You and Elijah were never a pet project. You don’t get to discard what we are to one another that easily. You may be hurting, but you don’t get to do that.” She stretched out both of her arms to encompass her being in the room. “Silas and I know why we’re here tonight.”
“To pleadhiscase,” she commented snidely.
Marge looked disappointed. “I might not have raised you, missy, but I’m tempted to take you over my knee right now and give you a whooping.”
The mental image of it made Cassidy’s lips quirk. She probably didn’t want to push Marge too far.