The Reset Life of Cassandra Collins Read online

  Kristen slapped his arm. She put some oomph behind it, but it bounced harmlessly off Jimmy’s bicep.

  “What are you saying, exactly?”

  Jimmy held his hands up and backed away. Jimmy towered over Kristen, but she still scared him, just a little.

  “Whoa there, dynamite. I’m not saying anything.”

  “That’s better.” Kristen turned to stare out at the thinning crowd. “Looks like the greatest party Middle Falls has ever seen is petering out.”

  Cassandra stretched, yawned, and said, “That’s okay. I’m tired anyway.” She glanced up at the window to her parents’ room and saw her father standing there, looking down on the remainders of the party, tumbler in hand.

  “Is that my cue to depart, beautiful?” Jimmy asked. “I can take a hint. Remember, though. Tomorrow.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

  “Right,” Cassandra said, snapping off a mock salute. “Tomorrow.”

  Jimmy kissed her again, smiled that Pepsodent smile, and disappeared into the house.

  Kristen pushed a hip against Cassandra and said, “Tomorrow? What’s that all about?”

  “Wait just a few. I’ll tell you.”

  Cassandra looked at her watch. “It’s 1:30. I think we can move everyone out now.”

  There were only a few groups of people pooled in the glow of the overhead globes. Cassandra moved among them, saying “Thanks for coming,” and, “I’m so glad you were able to make it, it meant a lot,” and, “We’ve got to get together again soon,” until everyone took the hint and departed.

  Soon enough, it was just Cassandra, Kristen, and a small army of people her father had paid to work overtime to clean up the mess so he didn’t have to see it the next day.

  Cassandra looked out at the backyard, which had been so perfect six hours earlier. Now, the tablecloths flapped forlornly in the evening breeze, there were divots in the grass, and many of the overhead lights hung at odd, canted angles.

  “Hmmph, what a mess we made,” Cassandra said. Then, turning to Kristen, she said, “Come on, you grab a bowl of chips, I’ll get us a couple of Tabs, and we can go upstairs.”

  Chapter Three

  In her bedroom, Cassandra turned all the lights off except for her Felix the Cat night light. She and Kristen sat on her bed in the shadowy darkness with the bowl of chips between them. For a minute the only sound was the quiet pfffft as they opened their Tabs.

  “Come on,” Kristen finally said. “The suspense is killing me.”

  “Jimmy popped the question.”

  “No!”

  Cassandra nodded, and around a mouthful of chips, she said, “Caught me totally off guard. If I was the kind of lady Mom thought she was raising, I guess I would have seen it coming, but I’m not, so I didn’t.”

  “So...?”

  “So, what? I told him the truth. That I wasn’t ready to give him an answer yet.”

  “That’s usually a good strategy. Keep them guessing. But Cass? Isn’t this the big one? What we’re working toward? Once you get a boy to ask you, you can just say, ‘Yes,’ right?”

  “I could, yes.”

  “Come on, it couldn’t be more perfect. Jimmy Coleman! Cutest boy in the senior class. Captain of the football and baseball teams. His family would probably be the richest family in town if it wasn’t for—well, you know.”

  “Us, I know,” Cassandra said with a little giggle. “I know, there’s nothing wrong with Jimmy. He’s sweet, he’s handsome, and he comes from a good family. I...” she trailed off in the darkness, looking for the right words. “I just don’t know if I want to get married right now.”

  “That’s crazy,” Kristen said, reaching across the chips and pushing on Cassandra’s shoulder. “You love him, don’t you?”

  “Sure, I think so. But maybe I’m just too young to know. I love Paul Simon, Bob Dylan.” She pointed to the posters she had hand-calligraphied of the lyrics to Turn, Turn, Turn, and The Sounds of Silence. They were invisible in the darkness, but they had both looked at them so often, they knew them by heart. “And, I suppose, I love Jimmy.” She paused and stirred her fingers through the remaining chips. “You’re probably right. But still, I want to think about it. I want to sleep on it.”

  She glanced at the softly glowing face of the clock on her bedside table. “But if I want any sleep at all, we better conk out.”

  Cassandra grabbed the bowl of chips, collected Kristen’s almost-empty Tab, and set them on the floor. She snuggled her back up against Kristen.

  Both of them lay that way for several long minutes, not speaking, but unable to fall asleep. They were both filled with too many thoughts to drift away easily.

  When the grandfather clock in the living room gave out four deep bongs, they finally dropped off.

  NO ONE WOKE THE TWO girls, so they didn’t open their eyes until sunlight washed across their faces.

  Cassandra was one of those annoyingly chipper morning people who woke with a smile and a bounce in her step. All she needed was the talking animals and she could have stepped straight out of a Disney movie.

  She hopped down from her bed and used the bathroom. When she came back to the bed, Kristen had rolled over, covered her eyes with her arm and was snoring softly.

  None of that. Too much to do today.

  Cassandra nimbly stood on one foot and reached the other up and into Kristen’s ribs.

  Kristen moved a few inches away, protesting in syllables that never quite managed to form a word.

  Cassandra said, “I gave you a chance,” then climbed up on the bed and began to jump up and down beside Kristen. She was ready when Kristen swung the pillow viciously at her, and jumped back to the floor.

  “Come on, come on. I’ve got a million things to do today. The first thing on that list is to give you a ride home. I can’t do that while you’re sleeping your life away, so let’s move it, sister!”

  Kristen sat up, her hair a ratted curtain that fell across her sleep-puffy eyes. She cast a sidelong glance at Cassandra. “Poor Jimmy. When he finds out how damned cheerful you are in the mornings, he will regret marrying you.”

  That gave Cassandra pause.

  Jimmy. What to do about Jimmy?

  “Don’t make me go get a bucket of water and pour it on you. I’ll have to wash my sheets, but it might be worth it.”

  “As if you’ve ever washed your own sheets,” Kristen said, swinging her legs over the bed. “Fine. I’m up, I’m up. You can get rid of me now, but you’ve got to at least call me tonight after you talk to Jimmy. If you tell anyone else before you tell me, I will be very, very, very hurt.”

  “Spaz. Of course I’ll call you. Now, let’s go!”

  Half an hour later, Cassandra walked back into her house after dropping Kristen off.

  She glanced at the grandfather clock. 10:45. She heard music coming softly from the kitchen, so she poked her head in to see her mother sitting with a cup of coffee, listening to the radio. Jamison Collins may have owned KMFR, but Cassandra was the only one who played it in the house. Dorothea was much more likely to listen to the beautiful music station that came in from Portland. Cassandra thought it sounded like elevator music, which was essentially what it was, but it soothed Dorothea’s nerves.

  When Dorothea saw Cassandra poke her head in, she said, “Good morning, graduate. You got up earlier than I expected you to this morning. The recovery of youth. What time did you finally go to sleep?”

  “I don’t know. Pretty late, I suppose.”

  “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

  That was new. Her mother had never allowed Cassandra to drink coffee. The look of surprise on her face made Dorothea smile.

  “You’re a grown-up now, you might as well pick up a few grown-up habits, right?”

  She picked up a silver pot sitting on the table and poured into a delicate china cup. Steam curled up from the black liquid. She pushed it toward Cassandra with a small smile, anticipating.

  Cassandra picked it up, blew on
it to cool it a bit, then took a sip. Her lips pulled back in revulsion.

  “Oh, God, that’s so bitter! Why do you drink this?”

  “Like many habits, it’s an acquired taste. Here.” She poured some cream from another small pitcher, then tossed in two teaspoons of sugar. “Try it now.”

  Cassandra looked at the cup like a snake that had bit her once already. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked it up and took a small taste.

  “Better, right?”

  Cassandra looked unconvinced, but managed to say, “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Drink up. You’ll get used to it. Give it enough time and you’ll come to rely on it, believe it or not. There will be many times in your life when you will need to drink coffee. It’s the social lubricant for daytime hours.” She paused and examined Cassandra with that cool gaze that always made her feel like a bug under a microscope. “We’ll leave the other social lubricant for a few years yet, unless you’ve already begun exploring that yourself.”

  Cassandra shook her head so that her long, dishwater-blonde hair slipped over one eye.

  It was true. She hadn’t had so much as a sip of beer during her years at Middle Falls High. There were many benefits to being the offspring of Jamison Collins, but the downside was that it always felt as if there were many eyes on her at every social function.

  “Good, then,” Dorothea said, satisfied with a mother’s infallible lie detector. She swept Cassandra’s bangs out of her eyes, then produced a large envelope as if she was doing a magic trick. She pushed it across the table to Cassandra. “This came for you in yesterday’s mail. I think you may have been waiting for it.”

  Chapter Four

  Cassandra’s eyes grew wide, and she felt her heart beating in her throat. She had been late in getting her application in, and doubt had begun to gnaw at her confidence. Now, here was the answer in front of her, in an envelope postmarked “Berkeley, California,” and with the University of California, Berkeley logo in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope.

  “Don’t worry.” Dorothea picked the envelope up and measured its heft. “I don’t think it takes all the paper in here to say, ‘Thanks, but no thanks’ to a prospective student.”

  Cassandra nodded and tore the envelope open just as Dorothea handed her a letter opener.

  “Sorry,” Cassandra said. She had apologized for rushing headlong into things a thousand times.

  She pulled a thick sheaf of papers out of the envelope and scanned the top page, which began, “Congratulations, Cassandra Collins, you have been accepted...”

  She didn’t need to read any further. She laid the papers on the table and gloried for a moment in that phrase. Congratulations, Cassandra Collins. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw that her father had come in the kitchen. He had picked up the acceptance letter. Cassandra looked up at him with happy eyes, waiting for his own congratulations.

  Instead, he tossed the papers on the table, reached for a coffee cup and poured himself a cup, black.

  “Going to an out-of-state college is expensive. Now that Johnny Coleman has asked you to marry him, there’s no need for all that, is there? Your mother and I had thought you might have to go to college to meet the right boy, but now he’s presented himself right here at home. I never would have signed off on this place under any circumstance.” He took a drink of the coffee, winced slightly, then repeated, “Now, there’s no need for any of it. What are you really going to learn at college?”

  His words surprised Cassandra so much that she didn’t stop to wonder how he knew Johnny had asked her to marry him.

  I don’t know, Dad. What did you learn at college? To be a captain of industry. I’m not interested in that, but I am interested in learning to sculpt, or paint, or something creative.

  “But it’s what I want to do.”

  Jamison nodded, not arguing that it was, indeed, what she wanted to do.

  “You did the work to get accepted, Cassandra, and if you want to go, that’s perfectly fine. But, at this point, it’s a waste of time, especially to a university like,” he stubbed a forefinger against the Berkeley logo on the envelope, “that.”

  Cassandra knew her father didn’t love Berkeley. He wasn’t just a Republican. He was a Goldwater Republican who looked askance at anyone who stood to the left of the Senator from Arizona. When Goldwater had lost the presidential election to LBJ, it had sent him into a tailspin for months. He felt that Berkeley was a hotbed of communist sympathizers and worse—hippies and liberals. Still, she hadn’t thought he would take this hard line.

  “If you decide to go there, you’ll have to do it on your own. You’ll get no help from me. Now if you want to take a few classes at the local college while you and Jimmy plan your wedding, that’s fine, but it’s foolish to go all the way to Berkeley.”

  That’s when it sank in. “How did you know Jimmy asked me to marry him? I haven’t even told Mom yet.”

  “He asked me first, of course. He’s from a good family. He wouldn’t ask you without checking with me. I was happy to give him my permission.”

  “Why is it starting to feel like everyone’s got my future planned out and I’m the only one who doesn’t have a say in it?”

  “Don’t be a dramatic child. This is the way the world works. I’m not forcing you to do anything. Marry Jimmy or don’t. Go to Berkeley or don’t. But you need to know that your decisions have consequences.”

  Dorothea cleared her throat slightly, attracting Jamison’s attention. She conveyed a message with the slightest lift of her eyebrows.

  He softened and sat down. He met Cassandra’s eyes, filled with unshed tears. He reached his hand out and covered hers.

  “We thought you might need to go away to school to meet the right kind of boy to marry, but it turned out you didn’t. And that’s a good thing.”

  Jamison Collins had a habit of repeating what he had said, but he wasn’t aware of it, because no one dared point it out to him.

  “You met the perfect boy right here in our own town. And he really is a fine young man. I’ve known his father for forty years. He and I graduated together, too, back in ’41.”

  “But I want to learn how to make something with my hands. To sculpt, or to paint, or to make my music.”

  “Cass, you’re an adult now. You’ve got to make adult decisions. None of those things will support you. Jimmy Coleman will support you.”

  Is that it, then, Dad? Am I just another item on your list? Make sure I’m taken care of for life? That’s sweet, I guess, but kind of infuriating, too. I’m an adult now. I can take care of myself. I think.

  Dorothea leaned forward. “I don’t understand. If Jimmy already asked you last night, what did you tell him? You didn’t tell him no, did you?”

  “I told him I wanted to talk about it today. There was so much going on last night. And,” she said, touching the acceptance letter forlornly, “I was hoping to get this, so I would have choices.”

  “Choices,” her father mused, pushing away from the table. “Well, you’ve got one. Now you’ve got to choose.”

  Chapter Five

  Cassandra rolled all the windows down in the Mustang and took it for a spin out to Middle Falls, the non-descript waterfall that nonetheless gave the town its name.

  She turned up KMFR and blasted Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone over the speakers while the wind whipped her hair behind her.

  It was a fetching picture—spoiled young girl at one of life’s crossroads.

  She pulled into the small parking area and sat on the hood of the car, listening to the water splash into the pool below.

  I guess I knew I was going to have to make a choice like this someday, but I didn’t think it would be this day.

  She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

  No, that’s not right. I thought I could have it all. I thought I could keep Jimmy around, but still go to college and see what that had to offer. I thought I could learn to be an
artist, or a songwriter, and still maintain my position as the much-loved youngest Collins child. I never thought it was an either/or kind of choice. I guess there’s a price for putting your fate into someone else’s hands.

  She slipped from the hood and walked to the fence that lined the viewing area. Tiny droplets of water frothed up from below and sprayed her face. She turned her face up to the warm sunshine.

  But now, here I am. The road splits in two. Go left and seek fulfillment and the life I’ve always dreamed about. Go right and find safety and never have to worry about a thing. I’ve always thought I was a brave and daring girl. Standing here, though, that great unknown looks a lot scarier than I had thought it would. It’s a big world, and it doesn’t really care about little Cassie Collins.

  It’s easy to think, well, I’ll show him. I’ll just go make a big success of myself, and then he’ll be sorry. It’s nice to daydream about things like that, but when you’re faced with the reality, it’s so much harder. I’ve never had to worry about anything. If I had to take care of myself, could I?

  When Dad said, “You’ll have to do it on your own,” what did he really mean? Just that I’d have to pay the tuition myself, or that I’d have to pay for everything? And how about this gorgeous Mustang?

  She glanced over her shoulder at the cream-colored fastback. It looked fast even when it was sitting still and always made her heart beat a little faster.

  When he gave it to me for my birthday last year, he said it was mine, but the title in the glove box is in his name, not mine.

  Cassandra stood looking out at the falls, but not really seeing them, for several more minutes.

  Finally, she bit her lip and nodded.

  I know what I need to do.

  SHE GOT BACK INTO THE Mustang and eased it back on the road. She dropped down the hill and drove home, where she changed into her prettiest summer dress. The one that always made Jimmy do a double take when she wore it.