Cassidy dropped her head, flopping the gardening gloves in her hand. She should have known Marge couldn’t be avoided.
“Want to tell me what happened that all of a sudden you don’t talk to me?” She walked toward her.
Cassidy glanced toward the lake. She already knew the boat was gone, but she kept looking to ensure it was still absent. Looking back at Marge, she answered, “I needed some time.” She dropped her hands to her sides, the gloves falling against her khaki pants she wore when gardening.
“Because of what happened with Mac the other night?” Marge asked.
Her temper sparking, Cassidy demanded, “What the hell is he doing, telling everybody about that?”
Marge held up a hand. “Calm down, sweet girl, he just said you two talked, and then you walked out on him. He hadn’t heard a peep from you since and didn’t expect to. Silas was worried when you hid when he popped over—yes, he knows you were hiding—and Mac said you were probably still upset.”
She huffed out a breath. “There was nothing more to be said, so I left. Who knew he was such a drama queen.”
“Cassidy Teague!” Marge chided.
“Really, Marge, I’m trying hard to get my feet under me. Give me a second! Please!”
Marge paused, folding her arms over her chest and bowing her head. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” She studied her worn tennis shoes. “What can I do for you?”
Cassidy threw her arms wide in a shrug, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Be on my side?”
Marge raised her head and frowned. “There are no sides. No one’s winning here.”
Turning away, Cassidy walked across the lawn to the outdoor furniture and collapsed in the cushioned chair. She tossed her gloves on the low side table while Marge took a seat on the couch. “Every word in his defense feels like a dig at me.”
“Not so,” Marge assured her. “You know I’d never do that to you. But this isn’t sibling rivalry. We love you, Cassidy. And he’s been spending a lot of time with Silas. I still want to take a strap to him most days, but he’s growing on me.”
“That’s surreal.”
“Think I can’t change my opinion? Silas always had a soft spot for him, so he’s been giddier than me to be hanging out with him. Silas can bust his chops, and he doesn’t take offense; rolls with it. Must be how those military men are—it’s a skin they slip into with one another.”
She was selfish, she knew, wanting Marge and Silas to herself. Mac hinted at an estrangement with his mother, of his doing, so he was as alone as she—as much in need of adoptive parents; a father figure. “I don’t want to make it seem like it’s an ultimatum…” she said with a sigh.
Marge leaned forward and placed her hand on the younger woman’s knee. “Thought talking to him would give you your answers. That was the point. Did you find your answers?”
Cassidy didn’t know how to answer. Had she? No. Maybe. He’d given her a glimpse of his life before, who he’d been—she’d even seen the person he’d been on occasion—and she knew the person she’d fought with the night of the accident was a stranger. But it was a stranger Josie might have met, too. That was the chilling part.
“Maybe enough to know,” she paused, then said in a stronger voice, “enough to know we’re better off not being near each other if we can help it.” She frowned. “And he still has my dog.”
Marge cocked her head. “I thought he was going to bring Fred to you.”
Cassidy paused before admitting, “He’s taking care of Fred. But I still want my dog back.”
“That’s a kindness,” Marge allowed.
“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about him. My world does not revolve around him.” A little lie, but she didn’twanthim to be someone she thought about all the time. He just was.
“You two had something traum—”
“I know. I was there,” Cassidy interrupted. “I don’t want to dwell on it.” At least, she wanted to try not to. It was inescapable that Fred wasn’t home with her, and her boat was gone, and she now had random dizzy spells and nightmares. A couple of these things weren’t going to change, either. “I want my dog back.” She heard the exhaustion in her tone.
Marge moved back on the couch, looking out at the lake. “Maybe there’s something Mac still needs from you.”
“Stop it,” Cassidy begged, closing her eyes in supplication.
“Okay. But know you are important to us, sweet girl.”
“I know.” Deep down, she did, but she would go back and forth in her mind, gauging the level of their devotion, affection, and sincerity. One of the most fun features of growing up a foster child.