SAVING CASSIDY

SEVEN

        

         Ben didn't know why he was so nervous. Mostly, he guessed he just wasn't sure how they'd react. They'd been so good to him. They were his last link to Cassidy and that more than anything else made the Glendenings a vital force in his life during all of these endless, unbearable, lonely years. He'd seen them suffer, and he didn't want to hurt them further.

        But he was nearly thirty years old. In three years, no sign of Cassidy had been found. She was just gone. Lost. And this town, these people, everything they'd shared, was there to remind him of her echoing silence. He would lose his mind soon.

        So it was time to move on.

        The two were on the front porch when he pulled up and he wondered if his unannounced visit made their gut bottom out with a mix of dread and hope, as his did when they called. Wondering if there was news, any news, at last.

        It was a stifling July. Everything and everyone looked wilted and parched. He raised a hand as the approached them and they knew by his unassuming presence that there was, as always, nothing new to say.

        He didn't see them very often anymore, since his parents moved with his father's job to a suburb in New Jersey. But just a month earlier, Ben had called on what would have been Cassidy's 29th birthday. Just so they'd know he remembered. Would always remember.

        Life went on. Even when you expected the Earth to stop turning, felt the planet should remain as dark as you felt, the sun kept rising, forcing you forward.

        The three exchanged pleasantries and Cassidy's mother offered him something to drink.

        "I've got to get going, so no thanks. But I wanted you to know." He squirmed a little. "I'm moving this weekend. I've got a job in Florida."

        There was a silence. But only for  moment.

        "Well, good for you, son. I'll envy you this winter," her father smiled, a sadness in it. But he shook his hand. They'd grown so old in four years, Ben realized. But, then, hadn't they all?

        Cassidy's mother smiled, but tears swam. Ben looked at her openly.

        "I just have to get away. I hope you understand. I hope you don't feel like I'm running away. Or giving up. I mean- it's important to me that you understand."

        "Of course I do," she said softly.

        There was nothing left. He shook the older man's hand one more time and Mrs G hugged him more tightly than she intended. He was the last person to see her baby girl alive. It lay heavily on all of them.

        "Don't give up on her, Ben," she whispered.

        "Patti!" her husband admonished. She pulled away and dabbed at her eyes as Ben swallowed the hard lump that had risen in his throat. He grasped her hands.

        "I will never forget her. I love her still."

        But he didn't have the heart to admit, barely even to himself, that he'd let his hopes of ever seeing Cassidy again, slip away. And it broke his heart every day.

FLORIDA

        It just figured that it would be hurricane weather the entire time Ben and his U-Haul travelled south on I-95 in Florida. Raining and hot. It occurred to him that Cassidy had never left Pennsylvania, had never seen the ocean. Talked of Florida and California as if they were America's promised land.