Better (Too Good series) (18 page)

“Cadence?” he asked.

“I haven’t had any,” she replied.

Dylan looked at her confused. “Yeah, I’m asking if you want one.”

“Well, you asked who wanted another.”

Mark smirked.

Dylan thought for a moment. “Look it. Do you want a beer or not?”

Cadence automatically looked at Mark. Avery saw and pounced on it.

“What? You need Mr. Connelly’s permission to drink?”

“No.” Cadence bristled. She didn’t think she was asking permission. She thought it had more to do with Gracie and her vague recollection of the frat party. Gracie said it was her choice, but Cadence didn’t believe her. Everything about that night was wrong, and she never wanted to feel that vulnerable again when she drank. She realized right then that it wasn’t a matter of asking for permission to drink. She was asking Mark, “Will you take care of me?” if she did.

Mark understood and ignored Avery. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.

Cadence turned to Dylan and nodded.

Avery sat grinning. “You’re a good man, Mr. Connelly.”

“Thank you, Avery.”

Although he tried to prevent it, the girls got tipsy.
Well, Cadence got tipsy. Avery got drunk. Thankfully there was no puking, but he could have gone without some of the giggling. It’s not that he minded their laughter. It really had to do with the fact that they wouldn’t listen to him when he tried to put them to bed. They giggled instead. He ended up yelling at Avery because she tried to strip in front of him. She couldn’t understand why it was a big deal. She was only changing into her pajamas.

“You’ve seen a bra, Mr. Connelly,” Avery huffed.

“Not yours,” he replied. He grabbed her overnight bag and tossed it in the bathroom. “Go in there.”

She stood wit
h her hands on her hips and grinned at him. “You’re a square.”

He laughed despite his irritation. “Where’d you even learn that? Talk about retro.”

“That’s why I said it to you. You’re all hipster and vintage and shit.” She pointed to his Pink Floyd T-shirt Cadence wore. And then she grabbed his fedora off the bureau and plopped it on her head. She searched the room until she spotted his red Converse All Stars, and slipped her socked feet in them. “Hello, everyone. My name is Mr. Connelly, and I enjoy math, instrumental hip hop, and Cadence’s pussy.”

“AVERY!” Cadence squealed.

Avery laughed, then did some kind of turn that resembled a Michael Jackson dance move. She clutched the hat on her head while she did it.

“My name is Mr. Connelly,” she went on. “And I enjo
y styling my hair all crazy and flirting with teenage girls.”

Cadence rolled off the bed with laughter.

“One teenage girl,” he corrected. “One.”

“
He said ‘one’, folks! And I—” She paused and looked straight at him. “—believe him.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “That makes me very happy. Now are you done?”

She continued, undeterred. “My name is Mr. Connelly, and I wear cool sneakers and drink sodas that were hip and trendy before my time.” She attempted the Moon Walk, but his sneakers were too big, and she fell backwards onto her bottom.

He laughed hard.
He wondered how many she had in her.

“I’m Mr. Connelly, and I’m gonna teach you math, music, and how to be a trendy hipster philosopher.”

“I’m a philosopher?” he asked.

“That’s what Cadence told me when she first met you. She said you looked like a guy who sits around in independent coffee shops discussing philosophy.”

Avery struggled to stand back up, and Mark reached out his hand to her. He glanced at Cadence who was curled up on the floor, already snoring.

“
A philosopher and a square,” Mark said.

“Almost
a square,” Avery replied thoughtfully. “You fucked your student, so you’re not completely square.”

Mark’s face blushed a deep crimson.
He thought he heard Cadence giggle in her sleep.

“Ave
ry, go change, and then go to bed,” he said.

“Hey, you never thanked me,” Avery griped.
She slid off his shoes. “You have really clean shoes, Mr. Connelly,” she noted.

“Thank you for what
?”

She looked up. “Huh?”

“I never thanked you for what?” Mark asked patiently.

“
Ohhh. Being Cadence’s friend. Without me you wouldn’t have been able to sneak around with her.”

She was right: Though Avery was driven by her own self-serving motives, she did allow Cadence and Mark to be together.
She created the lies, spun the web of deceit. And her motives ultimately benefited him in the end. Sure, he and Cadence eventually got tangled in the web, but there were several blissful months before they were found out. Secret months of secret love that blossomed in this small apartment. Memories. Building a life with Cadence. And it was all because of Avery.

He studied her face. She expected a “thank you,” but she was being silly about it. She couldn’t help it. She was drunk.

“Thank you, Avery,” Mark said softly, and he wasn’t being silly about it at all.

***

Mark strolled through the door and made a beeline for Dylan.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked Dylan,
who sat in his usual position: feet propped up on the counter.

“What are you talking about?”

“Avery.”

Dylan cracked a smile. “Ah, yes. Avery. What about her?”

“Don’t get any ideas. I know you too well. You date the same girl for about three weeks before moving on to someone new.”

“Relax. I don’t plan to date her.”

Mark sighed relief.

“I plan to marry her.”

“What?!”

Dylan burst out laughing. “That’s my girl, right there. Wanna know why I’ve dated all these years and never settled down? I was waiting for her to come along.”

“Dylan, this is a terrible idea.”

“Why? You’re dating a youngin
. I recall little Miss Cadence being seventeen when you two started seeing each other.”

“It’s a completely different thing!” Mark argued.

“How so?” Dylan swung his legs off the counter and stood up.

“It’s weird. What are we? The ‘We Date Way Younger Girls’ club?”

“You can be the president since you started it,” Dylan said.

“S
hut up. I’m being serious.”

“I can’t help Cadence has a hot friend. And she’s nineteen. Perfectly legal. And she’s my dream come true.”

“You played cards with her one night. How is she your dream girl? This is purely chemical.”

“Nope. Her brain, man. I figured out how she operates. She’s incredibly intelligent. She’ll keep me on my toes. She’ll challenge me. She’ll entertain me.”

“She’s not a circus animal, Dylan. She’s an actual girl. With feelings. And you’ll hurt hers. And I won’t let you do it because I cannot deal with that kind of aftermath.”

Mark could see it now: Avery bursting through his door c
rying her eyes out. An all-night sob session about how awful and stupid and callous men are, and he’d have to sit through the whole thing and agree. All while handing out tissues for tears and spoons for ice cream.

Fuck. That.

“It’s not happening,” Mark decided. “You can forget it.”

“We have a date Friday.”

“Damnit, Dylan!”

“I love when you alliterate.”

“Fuck you.”

“Relax, bro. Everything will work out just fine. It’s only a date. She may end up hating me by the end of it.”

“I hope so,” Mark muttered.

“Is it that you don’t like her?” Dylan asked. He dropped the playful tone.

Mark shook his head. “It’s not that at all. I just foresee a lot of messiness in the future. She’s very connected. Do you understand? If you hurt her, you hurt Cadence. And by default, you hurt me. That’s how it works. I don’t wanna deal with juggling people’s feelings. Managing emotions. I mean for Cadence, yes. But not for you or Avery.”

“I get that. But Avery isn’t your business,” Dylan replied.

“Well, I disagree, but you’re gonna do what you want.”

“Trust me, Mark. I wouldn’t go out of my way to make your life difficult. And it’s just a date.”

“Fine. But can you refrain from sleeping with her?”

“I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date,” Dylan said.

Mark nodded. That was true. The STD fear. “Knowing you, it’ll end up working out.”

Dylan chuckled. “Would that be so wrong?”

Mark shrugged. “Maybe not. Still weird, but who the hell am I to tell anyone who to date?”

“Wiser words were never spoken,” Dylan replied.

Mark thought for a moment. “You really didn’t try to discourage me.”

“Huh?”

“When I told you about Cadence. I mean, you said I was crazy and heartbroken and all that. You did say bad shit could happen, but even then, you said you’d still be my friend and visit me in the slammer.”

Dylan nodded.

“Why?”

“Because people don’t have the right to choose a life for someone else.”

“Sure, but there are still rules,” Mark pointed out.

“You only broke one. And it wasn’t illegal.”

“Cost me my job,” Mark said.

“You didn’t even like your job,” Dylan noted.

Mark chuckled. “That obvious?”

“Well, correction. You liked one aspect of your job. And her name is Cadence,” Dylan said.

“Tell me the truth. What did you think of her when she came here to listen to records?”

Dylan sighed. “You really wanna know?”

Mark nodded.

“I thought, how can one little person
carry around that much sadness?”

Mark tensed. Dylan eyed him thoughtfully.

“You’ve gotta tell her, Mark,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“It’ll be awful, but you can’t keep it from her much longer.”

“I don’t wanna see her sad like she used to be. I’d do anything to keep her happy forever,” Mark said.

“I know. But it’s not fair to her to keep her in the dark. And you know it.”

Mark took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, tr
ying to purge with it any fear of revealing his past to Cadence. Didn’t work. He was consumed by it all afternoon, long after he left Dylan’s store. He determined to tell her. He did. He just couldn’t put a date on it yet.

Cadence expected swords and shields. What she got instead were handbags and hats. These women
were going to be her protectors? Um, no. They were sassy. She’d give them that, but she wasn’t sure they’d be able to get the job done. After all, there were five of them, but hundreds of everyone else.

“Remind me again why this is important?” Cadence asked. She stood huddled outside the sanctuary doors, unwilling to walk inside. Mark stood beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Cadence, honey, you’ll be okay. You don’t run, remember?” Martha said.

“Yes
, I do,” Cadence argued. “I sure do.” She broke away from Mark’s grasp and started towards the parking lot. Mark went after her.

“Hey,” he said, taking her hand and forcing her to stop. “It’s okay. We can go home.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t wanna be here either,” Cadence replied.

“Cadence, I don’t mind being here. And I know church is important to you. I wanted to come. And I w
on’t let anyone be mean to you. I don’t think they will, but you’re safe either way.”

“Those women can’t protect me, Mark,” Cadence said. “You can’t either.”

“You underestimate all of us,” Mark replied. He pointed to the group waiting patiently at the door. “You realize they’re mothers, don’t you?”

“Huh?”

He smiled. “They’re mothers. Nobody’s gonna mess with you.”

She didn’t understand. She had a mother,
but what did that matter? She was bullied constantly last year. No protection. No sympathy. What did he mean? Not every mother protected her child.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling on her hand gently.

She shook her head. “You don’t even like church,” she pointed out.

“It has merit,” he replied.

That statement made her laugh.

“And it’s important to you,” he added. “And what’s important to you is important to me.”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to come back to prove that I’m not scared of anyone. Because that’s not true. I’m scared of everyone.”

Mark listened.

“I wanted to come back because I can’t do all my studying on my own.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“You need to fill up on some spiritual food from an expert,” he replied.

She grinned. “Is that all right?”

“I wouldn’t want you any other way,” he said.

Cadence wasn’t sure what Mark meant by that. He said it playfully, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words. It was subtle—imperceptible to anyone but her. But she heard it, and she wondered what it meant. She opened her mouth to respond before she was stopped by Mrs. Connelly’s voice.

“You two ready?”

Cadence took a deep breath and walked inside with everyone. They surrounded her and Mark—Mrs. Connelly and LouAnn in front, Marybeth and Gypsy on either side of them, and Martha to the back. They really were serious about keeping her safe, though she never thought she’d have to worry for her safety inside a church.

She scanned the area her family usually sat in
, but people were still moving about finding seats, so it was hard to see those who were already sitting. Her hand started to sweat, and she quietly apologized to Mark, who was holding it.

“I like when your hand sweats,” he assured her.

She giggled. It was so stupid, and she knew he’d keep saying those sorts of things to her to calm her nerves.

They filed into a nearly empty row, and that’s when Cadence glimpsed her mother staring at her. Well, no. That wasn’t
right. She was staring just to Cadence’s left, where Mrs. Connelly sat. Cadence understood immediately: Jealousy. And a part of her felt greedy for it because it suggested her mother cared. Suddenly the Bed Bath and Beyond incident didn’t matter. If she tried very hard, she could forget the whole thing and focus on this new feeling: one of hope. Her mother cared. She displayed it poorly, but she cared nonetheless.

So much for spiritual sustenance. Cadence came to church to learn something, but she spent the entire service fantasizing about an alternate universe where her father pleaded for forgiveness, begged her to come home
, and promised her whatever she wanted. Her mother was there, too, crying her eyes out, wrapping Cadence in hugs and dousing her with kisses.

It was a nice fantasy.

Her brain switched tracks. Fantasizing ended, and now her mind traveled down the road of memories. She saw her family huddled on the couch watching a Disney movie. She was eight. Oliver was six. They were eating popcorn. She was nestled between her parents, and she lay with her head against her father’s chest. She thought he kissed the top of her head.

“Are you okay?” Mark whispered.

She turned to him, and that’s when she felt the tear slide down her cheek. She wiped at it and smiled.

“Because the pastor just made a joke,” Mark said. “But you’re crying.”

“I didn’t hear him,” Cadence replied.

Mark took her
hand and squeezed it. Only ten minutes of the service remained, and she tried to listen. She had to focus hard, though, because her mind kept urging her back to the Disney movie night, and she was certain there were parts of it that she was making up. Her father didn’t kiss her head.

Yes
, he did
, her brain countered.

That’s a lie
, Cadence insisted.

It’s not. He kissed your head. He laug
hed when you accidentally burped
.

Cadence’s eyes went wide. She’d forgotten that! It was the Coke. She couldn’t control it, and she thought she’d get in
trouble with her mother. But her mother laughed. Dad laughed. Oliver laughed. It was one of those family bonding moments. Over a disgusting burp.

“Cadence?” Mark asked, and then he took her hand and led her out of the sanctuary. She made it to the foyer before she burst into tears. “Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he said, wrapping her in a hug.

“It’s not even important!” she wailed.

He didn’t know what she mean
t, but he shook his head.

“Everything is important, Cadence,” he said. “If it’s happening to you, then it’s important.”

“I burped!” she cried.

He was even more confused, bu
t he kept right on holding her.

“Everyone does it,” he said.

She managed a laugh. “No, no. When I was eight, I accidentally burped, and everyone laughed. We were watching a movie. My whole family. Dad let me rest my head on him.”

Church ended, and people started flooding the foyer. Mark and Cadence were swept up in the tide and pushed out the door. He took her hand and led her to a private nook on th
e other side of the church entry.

“I wanted you to have a good experience,” Mark said. “I wanted you to
feel good coming back here.”

Cadence shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.
Maybe if I hadn’t seen my parents, I would have been fine.”

“Well, I did listen to the lesson while I kept my eye on you,” Mark said. “If you want me to tell you about it
later.”

She smiled. “Why is it so hard to let them go?”

“Because they’re your parents.”

“But they’re awful!”

“Doesn’t matter. You spent the majority of your life—”

Cadence placed her hand on Mark’s forearm and shook her head, silently telling him to be quiet. She thought she heard the sound of Mrs.
Connelly’s voice, but it didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation. Cadence walked around the corner and spotted them: Mrs. Connelly and her mother. Something told her to stay put, so she partially hid behind a tree.

“I
f you have something to say to me, then you need to say it,” Mrs. Connelly said.

“I do have something to say to you,” Mrs. Miller shot back.

“Well, out with it already!”

Mrs. Miller wasted no time.
“What kind of woman raises a son to go after young girls? Hmm? Your son is nothing but a predator who takes advantage of impressionable teenagers!”

Mrs. Connelly drew herself up to her full height. “
Now, I don’t think you need to be name-calling. I mean, I suppose we could go that route, but you don’t wanna hear the names I have for you.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not scared of anything you have to say to me,” Mrs. Miller snapped.

“Mrs. Miller, I’m quite sure you wouldn’t want me calling you a spineless bitch in the church parking lot,” Mrs. Connelly said.

Mr
s. Miller’s mouth dropped open. She narrowed her eyes. “Your son is a PREDATOR!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She knew it would attract the attention of churchgoers leaving the auditorium.

“My son brok
e no laws,” Mrs. Connelly calmly replied.

“So what? He was her teacher! He should have known better! He preyed on her because she was lonely!”

Mrs. Connelly raised her eyebrows. The message wasn’t lost on Mrs. Miller.

“How dare you! Because Cadence was being punished, it’s
our
fault she was an easy target?”

“No. I don’t think she was a target at all.”

Mrs Miller snorted. “Of course you don’t. That would be tantamount to recognizing your son’s guilt.”

“I find it interesting that you give Cadence no credit for having a brain. She was a willing participant from the beginning, but you won’t give her the decency or respect
she deserves. She has a functioning brain and can make her own goddamn decisions.”

Mrs. Miller looked stunned
. “Listen to that filthy mouth,” she breathed.

“And I’ve got more,” Mrs. Connelly warned. She pointed a finger right in Mrs. Miller’s face. “You had an opportunity to restore your relationship with your daughter. Your
daughter
. And you walked away. You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother.”

“I’m not!” Mrs. Miller shouted. “I’m a good mother!”

Mrs. Connelly burst out laughing—an icy laughter. “You’re deluded. You disowned your daughter. The child your husband hit.”

“Stop it!”

“The child who made a bad decision, but for Christ’s sake, ONE bad decision! Is she to pay for that forever?”

“You don’
t know anything about our situation!” Mrs. Miller shouted.

“
I know everything about your situation because Cadence told me,” Mrs. Connelly replied.

“She’s brainwashed! That man brainwashed her!”

“That man has a name!” Mrs. Connelly roared. “His name is Mark. He gives your daughter all the things you’re supposed to give her: a home, security, love.”

Mrs. Miller couldn’t think of a reply, so she screamed,
“You’re not her mother!”

Cadence wanted to run
towards the sound of her mother’s voice, but she realized the argument drew a crowd. She was embarrassed, and hid further behind the tree.

Mr. Mil
ler tried to pull his wife towards the car, but she wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t finished with Mrs. Connelly yet.

“Was this your plan all along?! Get your son to go after my daughter so you could take her away from me?!”

Mrs. Connelly said nothing. How could she answer a question so absurd?

“He stole my daug
hter away!” Mrs. Miller cried. She was hysterical, and Cadence watched helplessly as the tears coursed down her mother’s worn and lined cheeks. “He stole her from me! You stole her from me!”

“That’s enough, Lydia,” Mr. Miller said. He put his arm around her
and turned her towards their car.

The church attendants sent to break up the argument were too late. It was
over. The small crowd dispersed and went to Sunday lunch armed with a delicious story to share.

Cadence waited until Mrs. Connelly was completely alone before running to her. Mrs. Connelly
glimpsed her from the corner of her eye and opened her arms in invitation. Cadence crashed into her, throwing her arms around Mrs. Connelly’s neck, squeezing her perhaps too tightly and wishing she could get closer.