2 - I Like Him Just the Same

Jon slipped between the creamy flannel sheets with a quiet groan. 

Sex with Cassidy still brought him the same “sanity” as it had that first night twenty months ago.  She quieted places inside him that nobody knew were screaming – even him, sometimes.  She was his oasis in the middle of this desert of life, and he was grateful every fucking day.   

She might keep his soul perfectly intact, but his fucking body?  Well, that was another story.  It was full of aches and pains that weren’t so quick to go away.

“Roll over, baby doll,” she murmured with a nudge at his side.  “I’ll rub your back.”

She always knew what he needed and didn’t hesitate to give it.  How could a woman be both selfless and independent?  He hadn’t quite figured it out the how and why of it yet, but whether he understood it or not, that was his Dixie.  Selflessly independent. 

A little too independent sometimes.

“I’m fine,” he lied rolling her way and laying a guiding palm at the small of her back.  It didn’t take much effort to pull her against him on the king-size mattress.  “Tell me about the song.”

She turned her face so that the sigh that lifted from the four-poster bed to the recessed ceiling.  The winter moonlight was bright coming through the windows, and it fully illuminated her pucker of annoyance.

“I already told ya.  It’s just somethin’ I was foolin’ with.”

“Alright.  Then let me tell you something – in the interest of there being no misunderstanding.”  At least she smirked when looking his way this time.  “To the guy who hasn’t seen his girlfriend in too fucking long, it sounded like you’re planning to dump my ass.  Am I close?”

She rolled over with a delicate huff, bringing her face close enough to lick if he felt like it.  “No, you stubborn-ass man. If you must know, Libby called this evenin’, buttin’ into stuff that’s none of her business.”

“Like…?”

Easing back, Cassidy laid on her side against him and draped a forearm across his stomach.  “Like how long I’m gonna be content with our relationship the way it is.”

No. 

No, no, no. 

Goddammit, he hadn’t wanted to be right.  This was not the time for her sweet-but-meddling sister to stir up insecurities.  Jon didn’t need his oasis of happiness dicked with right now.    

“What’d you tell her?”

“That I’d be content as long as I know you’re happy.  If I catch sight of that gray cloud of… yuck that you had when we first met, I’d walk away.”

Selfless.  Motherfucking selfless. 

She deserved more than what she’d gotten out of this relationship so far.  He knew that.  Had known it for some time now.  Hell, he wanted more for her, but that just wasn’t how their dice had rolled so far. 

Jon needed to be in or near New York, where his kids were.  Cassidy preferred living in Tennessee, saying it was about as far north as she cared to be.  That didn’t mean she wouldn’t venture to the city for a few days at a time, especially during the holidays when he absolutely couldn’t justify leaving his family. 

The job she wouldn’t let go of didn’t help matters.  She’d earned that Doctor of Nursing Practice degree and was now overseeing a local clinic – in between planning Libby’s wedding last spring, pulling strings to get Calliope into Johns Hopkins for residency, and putting together the album she’d finished before Thanksgiving. 

His Dixie had it in her head that, since he’d released Burning Bridges on her birthday, she wanted to release her debut album – Castle in the Clouds – on his birthday.  Because that’s how she rolled.  The woman whose jewelry box held a gum wrapper ring and bracelets made from an old belt was driven more by sentiment than conventionality.

Jon wouldn’t be one more of her projects, though.  She sometimes didn’t get that he wasn’t just somebody else to take care of.  They were supposed to be partners, and it was time to drive that point home. 

“Dixie…”

“Stop,” she instructed while laying a shushing finger over his lips.  “It ain’t none of Libby’s business, just like I said.  She just got me to thinkin’ ‘bout how I might feel if that day ever came along.  And whilst I was thinkin’, it occurred to me that other folks may already be livin’ that day.  That they might relate to a song about it.  That’s all.”

It was three in the morning.  Did Jon fight this fight now, or did he wait? 

You can’t win tonight.  Not the way you want to. 

So he gently removed her finger, kissed the tip, and used his brevity superpower to cut to the heart of it all.  “I love you, Dix.”

“I know you do, baby doll,” she gently assured, leaning up to give him a soft peck on the lips.  “And you know I feel the same ‘bout you.” 

He bit his tongue while watching her stretch to the nightstand for her phone, because dammit, he really didn’t like leaving it here.  But as she dimmed the screen and snuggled into his chest, Jon’s couldn’t make himself utter more than, “We need to talk tomorrow.”

“Alright,” she agreed, yawning delicately and giving him a conciliatory pat.  “Now, how ‘bout we get some sleep?  I wasn’t expectin’ you ‘til noon tomorrow, so I scheduled a half-day at the clinic – startin’ in four hours.”

He’d once thought himself a workaholic – and then he met Glory Star Cassidy.  Now Jon knew the real meaning of workaholic. 

At least I won’t have to make excuses to get into Nashville without her tomorrow.

“By the way,” she added.  “I wanna do your hair for the show Saturday night.”

She was going to be doing more than his hair at that show, but rather than getting into that now, he settled for a gently chuckled, “Okay, baby.”

♫♫♫♫♫

“Well, good mornin’, Verla Jean,” Cassidy greeted her first patient of the morning with a smile.  The woman nodding beneath a mop of tousled blonde curls lived two doors down and across the street.  She’d been friendly ever since they became neighbors last year. 

“Mornin’, Cassidy.”

Sliding the rolling stool to the foot of the exam table where Verla Jean was seated, she flipped open the dog-eared chart.  “Says here you’re havin’ trouble with your thumb?”

“Yeah.”  A quick thumbs-up showed how swollen and purple it was.  “I mashed it in the car door yesterday evenin’.  I told Earl there was nothin’ to be done about it, but he insisted I come get checked out anyway.” 

Gingerly turning the woman’s fist one way and then another, Cassidy inspected the damaged digit.  “Well, I’m glad you decided to appease ole Earl, because this looks nasty.  Can you bend it?”

“Not really.”

The grimace of pain at her attempt confirmed that, at the very least, the thumb was fractured.  “Verla Jean, I’m gonna send you right down the hall and let Libby take an x-ray of that.  If it’s not broken, we’ll just wrap it up and give it some rest.”

Libby had graduated x-ray school about the time Cassidy took over the clinic, which happened to be in need of an x-ray technician.  The timing was such that the Cassidy girls were now co-workers as well as sisters – although Libby was now a Walters, thanks to her wedding six months ago. 

Wes Walters was nothing like that scoundrel Darrell, thank the good Lord above. Libby’s husband was as honest as the day was long, and ironically, a deputy for the sheriff’s department. 

Once upon a time, that might’ve been a problem, but since Cassidy was on the right side of the law now, there was nothing to worry about.   She liked her brother-in-law and appreciated how well he treated Libby and the boys.

She also appreciated how he moved them out of her house, but that was beside the point.  Her sister and nephews were well-loved and cared for.  That was what mattered most. 

Oh, and Verla Jean, in this particular moment.

“And what if it is broken?”

“Then we’ll send you to the orthopedist to see what they wanna do.”

“Dammit,” the normally bubbly woman swore with disgust.  “This is gonna ruin my concert pictures.  Why couldn’t I have busted my left thumb?  I don’t prop the camera on that one.”

“Ain’t it funny how it always seems to be the important hand?”  Smiling faintly, Cassidy glanced up from making notations in the chart.  “Who ya goin’ to see?”

“Well, honey, who do you think I’m goin’ to see?  That handsome fella that’s been wavin’ at me as he comes in and outta your house, of course.  He’s been so nice, I felt obliged to be nice right back and buy a couple tickets to his show.  Did you know even complimented my wave petunias back in the summer?  Said they added a beautiful touch of color to the street.”

Cassidy was pretty sure that Jon didn’t give a tinker’s damn about flowers, but he did know how to charm the birds out of the trees when he wanted to.  Convincing her neighbors to see him as a regular guy instead of a celebrity was reason enough to want to.  He’d said several times that taking a minute to speak to them meant they’d accept him as one of their own, and thereby discourage “stalkers” from loitering around the neighborhood.  

If anybody should know about deterring stalkers it would be Jon Bon Jovi, so Cassidy didn’t discourage him.  She merely applauded the wisdom. 

“Girl, do you know how lucky you are to have a man who’s hotter’n the hinges of Hades and sociable to the neighbors?”

Tucking one corner of her mouth tight to control a grin, she finished the x-ray order and agreed, “Oh, I know, Verla Jean.  Trust me, I know – and I’ll make sure he knows you’re comin’ to the show.  He’ll be real appreciative.”

“You’re gonna sing with him, aren’t ya?”

Rolling her exam stool back with a chuckle, Cassidy chided gently, “At his show?  No, ma’am.”

“Well, why not? You did a fine job at the county fair, and that album of yours is comin’ out real soon.  Heck fire, I heard you on the satellite radio yesterday.  You’re a bona fide professional!”  She huffed with bewilderment.  “Still not quite sure what you’re doin’ workin’ in a clinic when you’re on the daggone radio.”

The truth was that Cassidy couldn’t let herself pin too much on the dream of being a professional singer.  Working in the clinic kept her grounded and was a safety net if this flight of fancy flew like the Hindenberg.  For all she knew, the only people who would buy the blasted album were Libby, Calliope, her cousin Gerald Ray and Jon.  Oh, and David and Obie. 

Six copies wouldn’t exactly earn her a place in history, so she was working hard while keeping her expectations in check. 

Kind of like her relationship with Jon, if the truth be told.  In both instances, she would graciously accept whatever came along and try to convince herself there was nothing better – even if she wanted more. 

Damn you for plantin’ doubts in my head, Libby.

Before her sister butted in last night throwing around words like “gullible” and “fool”, everything had been fine and dandy.   Cassidy and Jon had separate lives that they made a point of intersecting.  He didn’t want a woman in his hip pocket, and she didn’t want to be there. 

Just because Libby thought he came and went as though he was still dropping in on a mistress….  Well, that didn’t make it so. 

He’d asked her to move to New York, after all.   It just hadn’t felt right leaving her world behind for his.  Maybe she was old-fashioned, but relationships were supposed to be about compromise.  Taking up residence in New York and leaving behind everything she’d worked for just hadn’t made sense to her. 

There was also the fact that his kids still weren’t wild about the new woman in their daddy’s life.  Maybe that had something to do with their mother and maybe it didn’t.  Cassidy didn’t know or care to.  That family had the right to feel any way they wanted about Jon and Dorothea’s divorce without judgment from her – and she had the right to stay out of the direct line of their feelings until they weren’t running quite so high. 

That’s why she’d sold Jon on the notion that she belonged in the South.  It wasn’t her usual open and honest approach, but it was the kindest way to give everyone the space they needed.

If you want to be more than a drop-in girlfriend, some of that space is gonna have to go.

Things had been better last time she visited the city and spent the evening with his kids.  They hadn’t been as snide or snotty, so maybe the time had come to insert herself a bit more…

“Honey?”

Verla Jean was peering expectantly from the exam table, reminding Cassidy that she was at work and not daydreaming in a bubble bath. 

“Lordy, I’m sorry,” she apologized with a broad smile while blinking away thoughts of her relationship with Jon.  “Guess I need a second cup of coffee to chase away the cobwebs.  What were you sayin’?”

“I was wonderin’ why you’re still workin’ here with a song on Sirius XM.”

Cassidy waved a careless hand.  “Just ‘cause a song’s on the radio don’t make it any good.  Remember all those one-hit wonders back in the eighties?  Well, as it stands, they’ve got one more hit than I do.” 

“Seems like it’s only a matter of time, though,” Verla Jean insisted.  “You oughta be enjoyin’ the calm before the storm.”

“Maybe so,” she agreed kindly.  “But my mortgage isn’t gonna pay itself durin’ the calm.”

“Mortgage?  You mean he didn’t buy your house for ya?”

She dipped her chin and regarded the other woman with an arched brow.  “No, ma’am, he did not.”

Although it irritated her, Cassidy could hardly blame Verla Jean for the misconception.  Most of the free world probably thought Jon’s money bought her home – and it would’ve if she wasn’t dead-set against it. 

When the purchase for the house went through, he was still in the midst of his divorce, so there was no debate over who would pay the mortgage.  As soon as he came back from Saudi Arabia a single man and stepped foot inside the house, however, he’d immediately tried to pay it off.

She’d flatly refused, saying that she wasn’t his wife or daughter.  That meant her house was her house and would stay that way. 

It was the only time he’d directed any real anger at her, but Cassidy had stood her ground and made every one of the nineteen payments on her own.   That left only three-hundred and forty-one more. 

“Girl,” Verla Jean sighed.  “You sure are peculiar.  I’m not quite sure you’re fit to have that man.”

Mustering up the broadest smile in her arsenal, Cassidy delivered a wink and sassed, “You’re absolutely right.  I’m too good for that man – but I like him just the same.”