White Space Season 2

trying to help.
    “I don’t need you.”
    Why? Because you’re all Suzy 12-Step? Who the fuck are you kidding, Cassidy? You think you’re Sarah? Moving in with her man, mother to her child? Come on, Cass, who the fuck are you fooling? You’re only mad at your mom because she calls you on your bullshit.
    She knows you’re trying to replace Sarah.
    “No, I’m not.”
    Come on, Cass. Just a pill or two. What harm is there in a pill or two? Nobody ever died from taking a couple of pills. Besides, it will make tonight so much better. You think Jon wants to be with you when you’re stressed out? You do know that’s when you’re at your bitchiest, don’t you?
    “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. I don’t need you.”
    Even as she said it, and believed it, Cassidy’s hand reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the small envelope with her tiny pills. Six. She felt their shapes so close beneath the thick paper. She didn’t need to take them. She just wanted to touch them, count them, make sure they’re still there.
    She opened the envelope, pulled two pills in her hand and stared.“I don’t need you,” she said to the pills as if they might answer.
    Cassidy didn’t know who she was lying to — the pills or herself.
    She did need them.
    She did want them.
    Cassidy popped them into her mouth, grabbed a bottle of water from beside her, swallowed, then waited for the pills to deliver their sweet promise.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Jon Conway

    “God, it’s only 4 o’ clock,” Warren said from his side of the table. “We’re eating dinner like old people.”
    Warren sat across from Jon. Emma sat beside her father, across from Melinda, who seemed to almost thaw in Emma’s presence. Perhaps she was a different person around children. Jon remembered when Anastasia was born and how happy Melinda had been back then. But now that her daughter was away at school, and she was stuck with Warren and Blake all the time, she’d become a different person — not that Jon could blame her.
    Family, at its worst; parasitic, and robbing you of joy one rotten word and act at a time.
    Blake, as always, sat at the head of the table, to Jon and Emma’s right.
    “Thank you for doing this early,” Jon said. “We’re going into the city later.”
    “Oh, for what?” Melinda asked, stabbing her salad then filling her mouth with fresh greens.
    “Cassidy wanted to show me a few of the places that have sprung up since I left. She especially wants me to see The Hillside. She says I’ll love it.”
    “Oh, The Hillside is wonderful! ” Melinda agreed. “You’ve never stayed there?”
    “No, never had a reason, though I’ve heard great things.”
    “Why isn’t Cassidy with us?” Melinda asked, having not been in the room when Jon told Blake and Warren that Cassidy had a few things to take care of, and that she’d love to come next time.
    “She had more pressing things ‘to take care of,’” Warren said, setting his disdain for Cassidy on display. “Good thing she’ll get them tidied before Jon checks her into the five-star hotel. She’s not stayed there herself yet, has she, Jon?”
    Jon shot Warren a look, but otherwise didn’t rise to the bait.
    Don’t trash her in front of her niece, bastard.
    As if to squash his eldest’s swagger, Blake said, “So, tell me, Emma, what keeps a smart girl like you interested?”
    “Everything,” Emma said, not missing a beat. “I love to write and draw and watch TV. I also like to play puzzle games and cook, and I really, really like to talk. I also like spending time with Aunt Cassidy and Jon and Houser. And sometimes Gram.” Emma spit her four sentences so fast, they sounded almost like one. “OH! And sometimes I like to sit and think without doing anything else.”
    Blake laughed at the last part, amused by his granddaughter. “And what is it you like to think about most?”
    “I don’t know,” Emma shrugged. “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom lately. Before she died, I used to think a lot about my best friend Rachel, though I don’t really play with her that much anymore. I used to wonder who my dad was, but that was before I met Jon.” Emma shrugged again. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if I’ll always feel alone.”
    Jon said, “But you’re not alone, Emma.”
    “Sometimes I feel alone, even when I’m not,” she said.
    Blake reached across the table, not quite touching Emma’s hand. “May I tell you something?” he asked.
    “Of