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Authors: Zena Wynn

BOOK: Broken
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The next three weeks went by fast and smooth. Max pushed the basement remodeling, doling out the extra cash required to pull in additional workers to get the job done as quickly as possible. The wood floor was installed, electrical outlets added to the walls, and plumbing for the downstairs bathroom laid, and unfinished drywall lined the walls. The straight staircase had been removed and the new bi-level one installed. They’d framed out and dry walled a clothes closet, but it still needed doors, rods, and storage shelves.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, the walls were finished and painted neutral beige color and the trim added along the floorboard. Monday, the carpet installers arrived to lay down the plush, caramel-colored carpet Cassidy had chosen to delineate the sleeping area from the living area. His forty-six inch television hung on the unadorned wall, still awaiting the custom-made combination bookcase and entertainment unit he was having constructed.

On Tuesday, a furniture delivery truck backed into the yard. It contained a king sized, platform bed with storage dresser underneath, a king sized pillow-top mattress set, the matching mirror, dresser, and chest, and a short black leather couch and two end tables for the living space. All that was missing was the specialty lighting and drop ceiling he’d scheduled the workers to install, the bathroom fixtures and tile for the bathroom, and some type of covering for the windows.

Despite the massive construction job going on below, he and Cassidy fell into a routine. Each morning he cooked breakfast and they ate together before going their separate ways. In the evening they reunited. Per their agreement, they took turns cooking dinner. When it was time to eat, again they sat at the table as a family unit. While they ate, they discussed their day. Max brought Cassidy up to date on the progress below and Cassidy told him about the patients she’d seen that day.

Zoe gradually became used to his presence, even going so far as to seek him out to play with her before bedtime. Whatever toy she brought him, he stopped what he was doing and spent time entertaining her. It was the highlight of his day.

However, the nights Cassidy took him by the hand after Zoe was in bed and led him into her bedroom, those were the best. He’d promised to give her time and had done so by retiring to his assigned room each night. Max made no presumptions or demands regarding Cassidy’s willingness to share either her body or her bed. His patience was rewarded. More often than not, she invited him to join her.

The day before Thanksgiving arrived crisp and cold. While Cassidy was at the clinic, Max made sure any trace of his presence was removed from the guest bedroom. He changed the sheets on the bed, vacuumed the floor, and dusted. The night before, he and Cassidy had cleaned the house from top to bottom and grocery shopped for the remaining items needed to complete their holiday meal. The turkey was defrosting in the sink, and the pre-sliced ham was slow cooking in the oven.

As he worked, Max thought of his family. How everyone would be gathering at his parents. The girls would begin dropping by after work to help Momma with the preparations. He, his brother, and his brothers-in-law would be tasked with cleaning and setting up the basement. Tables and chairs would be set out, coolers pulled out and prepared for ice and the cases of drinks already stacked, ready, and waiting.

Poppy would be planted in front of the television, surrounded by his grandchildren as each sought his undivided attention. He’d already have tomorrow’s football schedule outlined. Max, his brothers, and brothers-in-law would bring snacks and brew for the games. His mother and aunts would complain about them spoiling their appetites, but it never stopped them. Thanksgiving was a day for non-stop eating in the Desalvo household.

This would be the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent with his family. Even when he was with Amber, they had always gone to his family’s home. For a moment he felt a pang of regret before it was buried under an avalanche of righteous anger as he remembered what his mother and Nicco had done.

Though he’d miss spending time with his nieces and nephews, Max had his own family now. It was time for new traditions. This weekend he’d have an opportunity to meet his in-laws. A chance to watch his wife and her parents interact. Nell had also been invited, though Cassidy wasn’t sure she’d come, saying it was a toss-up between them or her sister’s.

Max was looking forward to this holiday season. This one and all the ones to follow.

His first Christmas with Cassidy and Zoe. He could already picture a Christmas tree, the trunk so full of toys and gifts it would be impossible to get near the base without stepping on something. Not to mention the gifts he planned to shower on his wife. He had a wife. Max still got a thrill whenever he thought of it.

First, they needed to get through Thanksgiving. He didn’t know much about Cassidy’s parents other than what he’d heard Phillip say and overheard conversations between Cassidy and her mom when she was going through her divorce. He knew his wife—he grinned—was closer to her father than her mother. That she and Phillip had alternated holidays between their parents, and despite the distance, Cassidy was just as close to her family as Max had previously been to his.

He hoped, for Cassidy’s sake, there wouldn’t be any problems. She wanted the weekend to run smooth. If for some reason her parents took an instant dislike to him? Well, they lived four hours away in Pittsburg. He could keep his cool and hang in there until it was time for them to leave.

Chapter Twenty

Cassidy was a bundle of nerves, her insides all jittery with excitement and anxiety. This was the first year she’d hosted Thanksgiving dinner for her parents. Her mother, she was sure, would disagree. However, in Cassidy’s mind, last year didn’t count. Though her parents had driven here to West Chester, she’d been in no condition to do any of the cooking. In fact, she’d spent most of the holiday ensconced on the couch, being served.

This year she’d finally managed to convince her mother she could handle both the menu and the meal on her own. “All you and Daddy need to do is show up,” she’d told her. “You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this one small thing for you.”

Her mother had reluctantly agreed, stating, “I guess it’s time to pass the mantle. But if you need any help,
any help at all
, call me.”

“Mom, I’ve been assisting you for years. I got this.
But
, if I run into any problems, I promise I’ll call,” she’d assured her.

It was just cooking, Cassidy assured herself. Something she did every day. Yes, the food might be a bit fancier or more traditional than the average every day fare, but she could handle it. And, she’d be using her mother’s recipes. The ones handed down to her mother from her grandmother, who’d unfortunately died last year, and her grandmother’s mother, and her mother before her. So there shouldn’t be any complaint from her mother about the food.

That was one good thing about no longer working in the hospital environment, Cassidy mused. She got weekends and holidays off. Although she had the occasional weekend duty, more often than not, her work hours were no more taxing than the average office worker. She didn’t make as much money, but she’d pick having enough time to be mother to Zoe over a generous financial compensation with its requisite long working hours every time.

It was ironic, really. After years of complaining about the hours her career demanded that she work, it was Phillip’s death that had forced her into the type of position he’d urged her to consider—one with family-friendly hours. Of course, when Phillip had been alive, they couldn’t afford her to bring in the salary she did now and continue the standard of living they’d both wanted to obtain.

And now there was Max. Max to come home to every night. Max to share her days and nights. Max to help shoulder the joys and burdens of parenting. If he left her again after she’d come to depend upon him…

No, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t think that way. This was a new beginning for both of them. She refused to let her fear taint it. One day at time, Cassidy reminded herself. Take it one day at a time.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving arrived. They’d finished eating a lite dinner—Max had brought in takeout—and they were cleaning the kitchen when her parents arrived. Wiping damp palms on her jeans, Cassidy went to let them in.

“Mom! Dad!” She greeted her parents with a warm, welcoming smile, holding the door open wide.

Her mother entered toting foil wrapped aluminum pans.

Oh Mom, I thought we had an agreement. I should have known you wouldn’t follow through.
“Mom, what’s in the pans?” she asked suspiciously.

“Just a little something I whipped up. You know how your father loves my cooking,” her mother said breezily as she walked by, brushing a kiss on Cassidy’s cheek. Her steps faltered when she spotted Max standing in the living room, Zoe clinging to his pants leg. “Who’s your friend?”

Inwardly wincing at her mother’s arctic tone, Cassidy hurried to make introductions. “Mom, Dad, this is Max Desalvo. Max, my parents, Sandra and Bernard Palmer.” A cold wind whipped into the house, reminding her she was standing with the door opened and letting the heat out. Closing it she said, “Daddy, you know where the bedroom is. Mom, let me put those pans in the kitchen.” No sense making a fuss about the food her mother had brought, Cassidy decided. At least she hadn’t cooked a turkey.

“I’ll get them,” Max volunteered, stepping forward to take the pans from her mother.

“I’ve got it, young man. Cassidy, show me where you want these,” her mother ordered and strode toward the kitchen, shoulders stiff and head held high.

Damn
, Cassidy thought, watching her walk away.
She just walked in the door and already she’s starting.

“Hey, Kitten.” Her father distracted her by pulling her in for a big bear hug.

“Hey, Daddy. I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, kissing his cheek and snuggling in close. He smelled of comfort and home—Old Spice aftershave and spearmint.

Pulling away, her father glanced down at Zoe, peeking shyly at him from behind Max’s right leg. “There’s my sweetie pie. Come give Grampy a big hug.”

“She’s a little shy with strangers,” Cassidy cautioned.

“I’m not a stranger,” her daddy said, chuckling.

“I’ll take those bags to the bedroom for you, Mr. Palmer,” Max said as he stepped forward and reached for the handle. Unlike her mother, her father willingly passed the suitcase and the shoulder bag to Max and then crouched down so he’d be more on Zoe’s level.

“Cassidy!” The preemptive summons came from the kitchen.

Knowing it wouldn’t be wise to make her mother wait any longer, Cassidy went to join her. As expected, her mother had already rearranged the refrigerator to her liking and the pans were nowhere in sight. Her mother stood near the sink, the expression on her face one Cassidy remembered from childhood when she’d been in major trouble. “Who is that man, Cassidy? And why is he here?”

“He’s important to me, Mom, so be nice,” Cassidy said calmly, refusing to let her mother’s demeanor intimidate or anger her.

Her mother crossed her arms and rested one hip against the counter, narrowing her gaze. “Your husband hasn’t been dead that long. Don’t you think you’re rushing things?”

Cassidy just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing how well
that
would go over. “Mom, Phillip and I may have still been legally married at the time of his death, but our marriage was over.” Had been over for months, a fact neither her mother nor Phillip had been willing to accept.

Her mother pursed her lips like she was biting back words and huffed. “You need to be careful. Phillip’s death left you with quite a bit of money.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “Mom, Max could care less about my financial status. Before you go making judgments, give him chance,” she urged.

Her father came into the kitchen, toting Zoe. “Got anything sweet to eat for me and my girl?”

Smiling, Cassidy motioned to the freezer. “There should be some ice cream in there.”

Max appeared in the opening behind her father. “I’m going to head down. I’m sure you and your folks want to spend time together. See you and Zoe in the morning. Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, nice to meet you.” He nodded to them.

“Goodnight, Max,” Cassidy said.

“Night-night,” Zoe echoed.

“Night, Zoe.” Max gave Cassidy one last speaking glance before turning away. She was sorry to see him go even as she appreciated the gesture. He was giving up his time with Zoe so her parents could spend those hours with their granddaughter.

“What did he mean by ‘head down?’” her mother asked in fierce whisper.

Cassidy waited until she heard the basement door close to answer. “He’s renting out the basement. We just finished remodeling it.”

“We?” Her mother looked like she was going to have an aneurysm. “You know absolutely nothing about this man and you’re allowing him to live in this house, around your child?
Have you lost your mind
?” Her voice rose on the last question.

“Max would never hurt Zoe,” Cassidy said firmly, her tone indicating the discussion was closed.

“Cassidy Ann—”

“Sandra, she’s a grown woman. This is her home. You will respect our daughter in her own home,” her father said.

Her mother whirled on him. “But—”

“Sandra.”

Her mother’s mouth snapped shut to form a tight, straight line. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. Oh man, was she furious. Cassidy knew she hadn’t heard the end of it. Absently, she twisted her wedding ring on her finger and sighed inwardly. They had a long four days ahead of them.

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