c1

"Can I come in?"
"Of course! You didn't get stood up, did you?"
"No. Very bad attempt at a date," Cassie said, stepping into the foyer. The place was suffering that end-of-a-day wreck, as was Julie. Her blond hair had gone limp and was flopping in her eyes, she was braless in a T-shirt, shorts, her bare feet dirty, her face with no makeup. And behind her, chasing each other through the family room and kitchen, were a naked three-and four-year-old with a barking German shepherd in pursuit.
When the kids saw her, they yelled, "Cassie!" and ran to her. She stood in the entranceway with one nude child hanging on each leg.
But Julie just stared at Cassie. "What happened?" she asked.
Cassie said, "I'm going to help myself to a glass of wine, if you still have some. Then I'll tell you all about it." She shrugged and her eyes welled up. "I don't feel like going home right now." She sniffed back the tears and said, "Go. There are naked children running wild all over the house." Cassie bent down and kissed the top of each little head.
"The bottle you left a week ago is still in the fridge," she said, running a hand through her lank hair. "You don't look so good."
"I'll be fine." The kids broke free and ran off, followed by their mother. Cassie threw her purse onto a chair and headed for the kitchen. Then she turned back and flipped the dead bolt on the front door.
In the kitchen she found a wineglass and poured herself some cold white from the refrigerator; she'd gotten in the habit of bringing a big jug of wine over when she came. Julie and Billy were on a tight budget and didn't splurge on extras—even the kind that could give you a shot of relaxation at the end of a long day, with a husband working two jobs and a wife managing three kids almost entirely alone.
Cassie went into the family room and sat down on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the coffee table. Within what seemed like seconds, Jeffy came into the room. He was nine. He went right to the couch and sat so close to Cassie, he was almost on top of her.
"Wanna see what I'm doing?" he asked, balancing a small laptop computer on his lap. Cassie remembered—this was an old laptop handed down by Julie's brother.
"You bet. Whatcha got here?"
"I'm making skyscrapers. See? You can get between them with ships and catwalks."
"You're a genius," she said. "Where'd you get your brains? You get them from me? Nah, I'm just the auntie. Jeff, this is so cool." She ruffled his dark hair, kissed his temple. "You have your bath?"
"Not till after them," he said. "Look, I can make 'em fly." He maneuvered some keys, clicking away, and sure enough the small airships moved between tall buildings.
"Can I try that?" Cassie asked.
He showed her how and they entertained themselves for about twenty minutes before Julie reappeared. Now she was water splashed and even more wilted. Billy was at his second job. He was a paramedic for the fire department and, on off days, worked in a builder's shop cutting wood for cabinets and everything from marble to granite for countertops. Firefighters worked twenty-four-hour shifts, during which they didn't get much sleep. He'd get home at eight in the morning, grab a nap, go to the shop for a few hours, then go back to the fire department for another twenty-four the next morning. After three twenty-four-hour shifts in six days, Billy would get four days off in a row from F.D. and those were the best days—he only worked one job, at the shop. The best thing about his second job was he could make his own hours, as long as he got the work done. And he put in a lot of hours; money was real tight. Usually Julie would be coming to the end of her rope after days of managing on her own, as she clearly was at the moment.
Julie pulled the small computer out of Jeff's hands. "Can you get your bath before you do any more virtual building or flying?"
"Yeah, okay."
"Can you pick up your dirty clothes and throw them in the hamper?"
"Yeah, okay."
Then they disappeared, leaving Cassie alone.
When Cassie and Julie spotted each other the first day of seventh grade, it was an instant bond. Tall, thin, blond Julie and short, round, dark-haired Cassie—they were an odd-looking pair. A couple of years later Cassie's stepdad was transferred from California to Des Moines and Cassie couldn't bear the thought of leaving her friends, her school. Plus, Cassie's mom had married Frank when Cassie was eight and they'd proceeded to have two babies and had a third on the way. Cassie couldn't put it into words at the time, but she didn't really feel like a part of their family. It had gone from Cassie and Francine alone to Frank and Francine and the kids, and Cassie as babysitter and guest.
Some begging and negotiating evolved into Cassie moving into Julie's house, right into her crowded little bedroom, sharing a regular-size double bed. Their parents didn't think it would last long; they assumed they'd start to fight like sisters or Cassie would miss her mom and the little half sibs too much and want to move back. Neither happened; Cassie and Julie were best friends and roommates all through high school.
Cassie got her first job at fifteen, paying her way so she wouldn't have to rely on help from her mom and stepdad or put a strain on Julie's folks when she needed essentials like underwear or school supplies. She supported herself but for room and board. At graduation Julie's mom handed her a check; she'd saved every penny of support Cassie's stepdad had sent, from the piddling fifty dollars to the rare two or three hundred. "If you decide to use this for college, you can stay here rent free as long as you're in school. If you do something else with this, we'll work out a reasonable rent for you."
It was an unexpected opportunity for Cassie; her mom and stepdad didn't have a cent to spare. Birthday and Christmas presents had always come in the form of plane tickets to visit the family. So she went to college, studied nursing and got her R.N. degree, working while she went to school to support herself.
Julie went to college, too, but didn't make it through a whole year. She got pregnant, dropped out and married Billy, the love of her life. When Jules and Billy got their first little apartment, Cassie stayed on at Julie's parents' house, finished college and landed her first job in emergency room nursing.
And then Cassie's mother died. That left Frank with three kids to support on his own. The plane tickets stopped coming; they were replaced with gift cards from Starbucks or Borders.
When Cassie was twenty-five, she managed to buy her little house, not coincidentally real close to Julie and Billy's. And she got Steve, her Weimaraner.
She briefly considered going back to the house to pick up Steve and ask Jules if she could sleep on the couch tonight, but quickly decided she'd brave going home, after a glass of wine and a little decompression time. She'd never leave Steve alone all night—he was such a baby. Right now she wished she'd taught him to bark and snarl menacingly, just in case she ever needed him to be protective. But he was so sweet just the way he was.
It was a long time before Julie finished with the kids, getting everyone settled, though it was obvious she'd hurried through bedtime rituals. Instead of picking up the house, she passed Cassie and went immediately to the kitchen, pouring herself an apple juice in a wineglass. She brought the bottle of chardonnay to Cassie, offering to top off her glass. Then she plopped herself on the other end of the couch, with her legs tucked under her, facing Cassie.
"Tell me what happened," Julie said. "You're actually a little pale."
"You won't believe it. I don't believe it. He attacked me—right in the car, right in the parking lot of the bar where I met him for our date." Julie gasped and covered her open mouth with a hand. "It was bizarre. Otherworldly. It took me by such surprise, for a minute I couldn't even move, couldn't even push or yell." She went through the details, right up to the breaking of the window and the cup of coffee with Walt, her friendly neighborhood thug.
"He climbed over the console?" Julie asked.
"Yeah. That threw me, but I realized later, there was an awful lot of room in that front seat. He had both bucket seats back as far as they'd go. And where he parked—real far away from most of the cars—he must have done that deliberately before we met for the evening." She shook her head with a short, unamused laugh. "I remember thinking he was worried about dents and scratches. But no—he planned it. He was prepared to take matters into his own hands if I insisted on going to the concert."
"God! You must have been terrified! How did that biker guy know you were in trouble?"
"He said he heard me, that the car was rocking. I was fighting so hard, it made the car wobble." She showed Julie her knuckles. "I don't know if I got this from banging on the window or punching him in the face."