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And then he had a chance to go off with him, so of course he went.
“He said he wanted me to come live with him.”
“And so you went.”
“I did.”
“What happened, Cage?”
He doesn’t have to tell me that things didn’t go according to plan. That much is obvious from the look on his face. Something went horribly, terribly wrong, and Cage didn’t get the happy ending he was searching for.
I may have
ended up without a lover, but at least I got to build a friendship with Betty and I got to become a mother to the sweetest boy in the world. We’ll see if I still feel that way after tomorrow, I think, glancing at Orlando. He’s already looking really tired, and while I probably should have insisted that he definitely go to bed on time, I kind of need Cage to know that parenting isn’t all fun and games.
If we let him stay up late, it’s fine, but there are consequences, and we’re going to have to face those consequences tomorrow morning when Orlando is in a terrible mood.
“He took me to his house.”
“Did he live far away?”
“A few hours,” Cage says.
“And when you got there?”
“He told me how things were going to work.”
Cage chokes the words out somehow, and I wonder if this is something he’s ever talked about. One of the best things I ever did was to start seeing a therapist. After he left, I understood that I couldn’t handle the way my life was going on my own. Both Betty and my own parents encouraged me to talk with someone, and I’m glad that I did.
Even now, I scrape together the cash at least once, sometimes twice a month, and I go talk to someone who understands that life isn’t always perfect, and that sometimes, we all need a little bit of help to deal with our lives.
“And how were they going to work?”
“My dad was a criminal.”
I had always sort of suspected something like that, but I never broached the topic with Cage. Again, it was something very sensitive and private for him. I’ve never wanted him to see me as some sort of liability. I’ve never wanted him to feel like I wasn’t on his side, so I’m quiet as he tells me more.
“He robbed places: banks, stores, you name it. I thought he was going to teach me the family business, you know.”
“You wanted him to be proud of you.”
“I did.”
“Cage, you’d never so much as sped on the highway before, though. I’m not trying to be offensive, but you aren’t exactly a hardened criminal.”
“That’s what he said,” Cage tells me with a sad smile. “But I wanted to prove that I could handle it.”
I look over at Orlando. He’s lying on the carpet now and rolling a train back and forth. I should put him to bed before we finish this talk, but Cage is finally starting to open up, and like trying to lure a feral animal to safety, I don’t want to do anything that’s going to startle him or make him freak out.
“So you did a job with him.”
“I was supposed to. I couldn’t go through with it.”
How interesting.
“It was supposed to be simple: we were going to go into a bank, pretend to make a withdrawal, and rob the teller.”
“With guns?”
