Texts sent on March 9, 2017 at 2:10pm:
Simon Idzik: I can meet you at Dr. Maharaj's at 3:30 and walk home with you if you'd like?
Cassie Belford: Don't worry about it.
Simon Idzik: I'll be nearby anyway. It'll be fun, we can even take Hank to the park.
Cassie Belford: Not today. I cancelled the appointment.
Simon Idzik: You're going.
Cassie Belford: Oh, am I?
Simon Idzik: What's going on?
Cassie Belford: Nothing.
Cassie Belford: I'm still under the weather and I don't want to go.
Simon Idzik: You spent six and a half hours at the library yesterday.
Simon Idzik: If you're healthy enough to study, you're healthy enough for counselling.
Cassie Belford: Please explain how you reached that conclusion.
Simon Idzik: Don't be like that. It's important to follow through. This isn't for kicks, it's for your wellbeing.
Cassie Belford: You have no right to override my decisions. I'm fully capable of deciding what's good for my wellbeing.
Cassie Belford: I appreciate the sentiment, really, but we need to have boundaries.
Simon Idzik: Do you have any idea how much it sucks for me to not be able to help? I just have to sit here and hope for the best.
Cassie Belford: Are you seriously making this about you?
Simon Idzik: I feel useless here, and you need real help.
Cassie Belford: I put up with a lot of emotional rambling and a lot of guilt from you in the name of helping myself.
Cassie Belford: But right now, I'd really like for you to just let it go. I will make an appointment when I am ready.
Simon Idzik: Fine.
Simon Idzik: But you had no problem going to the GP when you caught that cold last week. Why is it this is so much harder?
Cassie Belford: You know why.
Cassie Belford: Also, if memory serves, I put up a pretty big fight about seeing Dr. Lee, too. I definitely don't need a doctor to tell me when I have the fucking sniffles.
. . .
to: cassandra.belford@baderu.com
from: weston.magure@baderu.com
subject: Hey stranger
sent: March 11, 2017 at 11:20pm
Cassie,
I'm sorry I haven't written a proper email all week. How are you feeling? I hope you're not still sick. I know school has been busy for me, so I can only assume you've been busy as well.
I went home to Caledon for the weekend since I have to stay on campus for spring break. The coach wants us to spend the week off working with the incoming team. It'll mostly revolve around drills and team building, but our coach and Jaz went out of their way to make sure we all get to have some fun, too.
People were still pissed about having to stay at school, especially those of us who are graduating. It seems like everyone else is going to Mexico while we're stuck in Kingston teaching guys how to run drills and "be a team."
It's not so bad. I'm just whining.
Anyway, I decided to spend the weekend at home for Sky's 20th birthday. Peter and I drove to Caledon together. He's also going to stay on campus for spring break---Jaz talked the coach into letting Pete mentor a new player with the rest of us, and I think he's the only one who's genuinely excited about the program. Pete's family is out west for a few weeks, so he's staying with us.
My sister was thrilled.
I'm not supposed to know this, but Sky has had a crush on Peter since she was about ten years old. Peter is clueless, but it's pretty fucking obvious to everybody else. Maybe it should bother me, as her older brother and his best friend, but I'm really okay with it. If something were to happen between Pete and Sky, I think it'd be good for both of them. She's smart, and he's sweet. What more could I want for either of them?
My sister was actually waiting in the driveway when we pulled up to the house yesterday afternoon. Skylar is tall and skinny and has bits of purple in her long hair. She did that over Christmas, much to my mom's shock. Sky ended up giving a long speech about the importance of self-expression and the impermanence of physical appearance, a lot of words my mom uses regularly. So Sky was allowed to keep the purple hair.
As soon as we got out of the car, she jumped, literally, into Peter's arms.
"Happy birthday," he told her. She lit up, and it was like I wasn't there. I got our stuff out of the trunk, waiting to be acknowledged.
"Hello? Skylar. What about me?"
"Oh right. You. The other Maguire." I think she was kidding.
Sky hugged me with slightly less enthusiasm than she'd hugged Peter (fair), and we went into the house. My mom was waiting for us with a tray of veggie sticks and chicken fingers. She keeps trying to go vegetarian and then changing her mind.
"My boys!" She reached for us at the same time. "I'm so happy you're home."
Peter is just as comfortable at our kitchen table as I am. He has a chair there (my dad's old one) and knows how my mom likes everything. He washes dishes better than I do, which she loves to remind me.
My house was the one we hung out at when we were kids. Peter's parents are great, but my mom always had less rules and made better snacks.
She was beaming, just like Skylar. "So, maybe today we can take it easy, and then tomorrow we'll go out to dinner for Sky's birthday, come back home for cake, and watch a movie in our pjs?" she asked.
Dinner, cake, and a movie is the Maguire Birthday Recipe.
Peter and I helped with some stuff around the house, like changing light bulbs and taking my mom's car in to get the tires changed. She could do it all herself, of course, but she likes having the help.
Sometimes it bothers me, coming home to do chores, but I like feeling needed.
We spent most of the afternoon with my sister. Sky and I get along pretty well actually. Maybe not when we were little, but the older we get, the more I like hanging out with her. We played videogames and scrabble until after midnight. Sky and Peter made fun of me every time I challenged my sister's spelling because she always ends up being right. Sky is smart. Not as smart as you, maybe, but really smart.
Today was her actual birthday. She paraded around the house in a blue flowery headband crown thing that her friend made for her and came down for breakfast in a fuzzy pink bathrobe. I swear to God, sometimes it's like she's still eight years old.
We had waffles for breakfast, and Sky's had a candle on top. It's cute how excited she gets about that stuff. The candle was Peter's idea, so that made her even happier.
We spent the afternoon walking around the mall because I still needed to get to get Sky a gift. I was embarrassed about it, but she laughed and patted my head. "That's okay. We can pretend it's a surprise. I can come with you to make sure it's something I'll really like."
Peter, who had gotten her a poster for her birthday, came with us just to walk around. I think he was worried that my mom would give him more chores to do if he'd stayed back.
Whenever Peter and I walk with Lena, we need to remember to slow down to match her pace. We're over a foot taller than her, and Lena tends to amble. But we never need to slow down for Sky. She moves fast, especially in the mall. We'll barely step into a store before she's done a lap of their inventory and is standing back outside looking at the next window display.
"Do you ever think about how everyone, everyone you pass, is alive?" Sky asked. She was looking through some stationary at a bookstore.
"Alive?" Peter looked up.
"Yeah. Every person you come into contact with but don't actually know, they're all living and doing things that are totally outside our sphere of understanding. We have no idea what's going on in their lives, but to them, it's literally their entire world."
"You need to stop talking to mom so much. This is her talking, isn't it?" I guessed.
"Besides the point," she said. She moved on to another shelf. "It's just so crazy. Even little kids, and especially old people, some of whom people forget to think about, they all have a story and we won't ever hear it. There are too many lives to keep up with it all."
"I don't know," Peter said slowly. "It's true like you aren't wrong, but that seems like too much to think about. I have enough trouble handling my own shit without taking on the entire human population and their tragedies."
"Well, sure," I said. "That would be unbearable for one person. But what if you also took on everything good that the rest of the world goes through. Imagine getting to experience every happy moment in someone's life."
"Right!" Skylar smiled and put down the notebook she was holding and darted out of the store.
She ended up picking out a record from a hipster store that smells like incense. It's an old big band swing group that she loves. I can't remember what they're called, but it was playing through the whole house while we got dressed to go out for dinner.
Peter and I were told to pack 'something nice' so we were both in jackets and ties. My mom wore lipstick (which is a big deal if you know her) and Skylar wore heels (which is an even bigger deal. She's self-conscious about her height.)
I drove my mom's car so she could finish her makeup on the drive, and Sky and Peter were in the back. She grinned like mad when she saw him. And I'll deny it if asked, but I saw him check her out, too. Not that either of them noticed.
My dad met us at the restaurant. He asked me and Pete about the team, and since my buddy didn't offer up the fact that he wasn't able to play, I didn't mention it either. We mostly talked about spring break training.
Actually, we mostly talked about the birthday girl. Stories about Sky hiding in the music room during recess. Sky, four years old, handing me a fistful of dandelions after she broke my race car. Sky driving into the garage door last summer. Sky teaching the whole family how to sing a song she made up for mom's birthday ten years ago.
After the food came (which was better than anything I've eaten since Christmas) my mom asked Sky the three questions she always asks us on our birthdays: what did you learn this year about yourself? What did you learn this year about the world? What would you like to accomplish this year?
She asks the same questions and in the same order, every birthday. I think her family did that when she was little, or maybe she read it in a self-help book.
It's nice though, and Sky grinned when she asked.
"I learned that I can be stubborn in my opinions. If I love a song, I insist that everyone I know loves it. If I think a politician is scum, then I think everyone should stop supporting them. I'm trying to live in the grey areas of life, not the black and white, and stop seeing my opinions as law." She stopped to think about the rest of her answer. "I learned that the world is full of people who are fighting their own battles and I don't know anything about most of them. I've been thinking about that a lot lately." She eyed me and Pete. "And this year, I think I want to write a whole collection of my own music. Stuff I can record for myself. Maybe piano... some vocals. I don't know, we'll see."
The whole table smiled at her.
Sky could be doing anything. She's crazy talented, and people always like her a lot. But I think it's cool that in a lot of ways she's just a kid. I'm really proud of my sister. When I told her so, she shoved me and laughed, but I think it made her happy, too.
I hope you're doing okay. Take care, Cassie.
Wes
. . .
to: weston.maguire@baderu.com
from: cassandra.belford@baderu.com
subject: Re: Hey stranger
sent: March 14, 2017 at 6:09pm
Hey Weston,
Everything has been busy on my end, too. I'm no longer coughing and sneezing, but I had to catch up on all the school and writing I'd neglected when I was sick. On the bright side, Simon felt so sorry for poor wittle Cass that he's stopped pestering me into counselling. At least until school settles down.
This works out well for him too, because I have a million things that are due soon and I would be dreadful company without that extra hour to study every week.
I think he let it go because he's been very distracted lately. He isn't preoccupied with job applications or midterms like most people. No. Simon is distracted because he is going to propose to Sarah.
I've known about it for a while, but today he took me ring shopping to help him pick which one he'll slide onto her finger after graduation.
I'll give you a second to process that information.
If you're anything like me, you want to know why two people, neither of whom are pregnant (I've checked), are getting married. I've been asking Simon this question all year and have yet to receive a satisfactory answer. I mean, sure, he's loved her for a good chunk of his life and he is financially well enough to pursue a life with her; Simon has a sweet little trust fund and several job prospects. Even still, I think marriage is too drastic. Permanent. Alas. They've talked, often, about their options and there isn't a shred of doubt from either of them.
I haven't voiced this out loud to Simon, but the odds are that two people who have loved each other through everything that they have will be fine. Or at least stay together and be happier than if they were apart.
It seems so huge. If you can't tell, I keep going back and forth with my feelings on the subject.
My job today was to ensure that Simon picked out a reasonably priced and classy ring. Sarah knows this is coming and she made a point of reminding her boyfriend that just because he can spend a shit ton of money does not mean he should; she'd prefer he be reasonable and rational.
But, Simon is in love, so I'll have to be reasonable and rational for him.
He chose a pretty store on (the so creatively named) Main Street. It wasn't a far walk, but I could tell that Simon hated every second of it. Hank was at Sarah's place getting a bath, which meant Simon was using his cane. He doesn't like the cane, even though he never complains about it. Unfortunately, Hank was our distraction for the afternoon, so our options were limited.
"What do you think she'd like?" I asked while we were still walking towards the store. "A diamond? I could see her going for something a little less traditional, like a sapphire, but she'll probably be happy with anything simple. You knocked up one classy gal."
"For the last time, she isn't fucking pregnant," Simon laughed. "I want to get her a diamond. I like traditional."
"Well, the "tradition" of a diamond engagement ring is propaganda propelled by the fact that, until quite recently, the entire diamond industry was controlled by one family, the Da Beers. The idea of eternal love being embedded in a diamond is basically an ad campaign gone rogue."
Seriously, Wes. Look it up if you don't believe me.
He made a face. "Still. I want to give her one when I propose. Isn't that what every girl wants?" he asked.
I made a face. "Some girls would rather have a cute little Audi with seat warmers and sensors, so you don't hit the curb when you're trying to parallel park. Some girls aren't willing to risk wearing jewelry made at the expense of fingerless children."
"Oh, shut up. You're excited about this too."
He was right. I love feeling special, and only someone really special would be trusted with picking out something as important as an engagement ring. I don't think there's anyone else that Simon would trust with this.
"Okay," I said, getting more serious as we got closer to the store. "I'm thinking something round-cut, maybe princess. 2 carats maximum. Definitely a simple band." I had done my research.
"Sounds good," Simon nodded. "Of course, I have no idea what any of it means. Let me hold the ones you like for her and I'll pick from those." Simon fumbled for the handle to the door when I nudged him towards the entrance and he held it open for me, ever the gentleman.
"Do you think you'll ever do this sort of thing?" he asked me.
I'd just explained to the sales staff who we were and how this would work. I gave them some guidelines for what we were looking for, and they rushed off to find rings to show us.
"I don't know. I doubt it. Do you really think I'm cut out for this sort of schtick?" I looked around the store at all the red-lipped women in ads beaming at their sparkling fingers. "I'm not exactly the romantic type, am I?"
Simon shrugged. "Sure, but that doesn't mean you can't be romanced."
"Ew. No. I can hardly stomach dating, I don't even want to think about marriage. You're the only man I'm willing to spend my life with, thank you very much."
Simon smiled. "How about a girl then?" he asked. Si is literally the only guy I know who could ask a question like that without sounding suggestive. "You don't know until you try."
"Nah, not in this life. Maybe the next one, though. Besides, girls tend to hate me."
That made Simon laugh so loud that other people in the store looked up in surprise.
"I wonder why," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not like you intimidate other women or make them feel inferior. You're an absolute peach, right?" He chuckled. "You know why girls don't like you. You've got that whole 'boyfriend stealer' vibe going on, right?"
I huffed. "Well, your girlfriend, soon to be fiancée and baby mama, has most reason to hate me and she's one of the very few women who seems to like me."
"She didn't at first."
I paused. "What do you mean?"
Simon sighed. "I mean, Sarah didn't hate you." Obviously. Sarah wouldn't hate anybody. "But she wasn't exactly a fan when we first started hanging out."
That was news to me. She was distant, sure, but she had never indicated that she disliked me.
"It wasn't personal," he backtracked. "She just... she didn't get why we were so close."
"When did that change?" I asked, not annoyed but curious.
"I think she realized you needed a friend..." he trailed off. "But she understood before we finished freshman year."
One of the men working there approached us with a selection of (mildly boring) rings to look at. More people came with more rings, and I picked out five I knew Sarah would love.
Simon held each of the pieces I'd picked out, feeling the curves of the metal, and holding each one out to an invisible Sarah like he practicing the proposal, before deciding which one he liked best. It was the right one in my opinion, too. Big, not gaudy. Simple, not boring. But still, you know, a ring.
Hank is sitting with me on the couch now, and he smells like fresh laundry after his bath. I'm pretty sure Sarah knew we were ring shopping today. I could see it in her smile.
Cassie