76 - Preservation

“Y’all get things worked out?”

The question had Jon’s eyes flicking up from his chair on the patio to find Libby working her way back to the clearing.  She really was a beautiful woman with long, silky red hair and eyes that were bigger than Cassidy’s, but a duller shade of blue.  The men in their hometown must be blind or nuts to leave these two single.  God knew Cassidy wouldn’t be single if he had anything to say about it. 

But you don’t.  You can call her yours all you want, but if she gets tired of your shit she could easily walk away.

“You’re lucky I don’t hate you,” Cassidy flatly informed her sister as she continued to dig away at the dirt around the same chest of gold she’d shown him.  Jon had offered his help, but she refused it just as flatly as she addressed her sister.  Personally, he thought she didn’t want anyone else touching the chest until she found out what was secreted away in the bottom of it.

“Pshaw,” Libby scoffed.  “You were just waitin’ for a chance to sort your affairs – no pun intended.”

It was good an opening as any for Jon to insert, “I told Cassidy that you’re my new best friend, but anybody holding that title knows to keep my business to themselves.  We good on that, little sister?”

The perky thirty-something woman pushed her hands into her back pockets and grinned at him as if he’d just given her a Grammy.  “I always did want a big brother.”

“Stop bein’ a brat and tell the man you’re gonna keep your trap shut about him and me, please.”

That bossiness earned Cassidy nothing more than a dour look, for Libby directed her response to him.  “My lips are sealed as long as you make her happy.  Fair enough?”

“Liberty!” Cassidy scolded with a huff of exasperation as she plunked the small box onto the patio pavers. 

Jon, however, felt no need for censorship and held up a hand to stem the lecture that was about to unfold.  It was nice knowing Cassidy had somebody watching her back, even if that somebody was watching her back against him. 

“Leave her alone.  There’s nothing wrong with keeping the air clear of misunderstanding.”

“Yet that doesn’t answer the question,” Libby noted, coming to stand in front of the empty patio chair and face him and speaking over Cassidy’s head.

She wanted assurance that he wasn’t going to dick her sister over?  Fine.  He had no problem giving it to her.  If ever there came a time that he wasn’t making Cassidy happy, he would deserve whatever havoc Libby’s loose lips could create.

As usual, however, he abbreviated the spoken version of his thoughts.  “That’s fair.”

“I’m ignorin’ the both of ya,” Cassidy murmured over Libby’s approval and opened the lock on the box.

He wasn’t used to seeing her a bit flustered and kind of liked the way it looked on her.  She was always so sure and in control yet, with her sister, she was a little on edge and uncertain.  He assumed that had something to do with the unpredictability of Libby and found himself amused.

It was with a smile that Jon reached out to tweak the ponytail Cassidy had reinstated after getting dressed.  “Lighten up, baby.  We’re just getting to know one another and establishing that we both want what’s best for you.”

Which was why, as much as he’d like to, he wasn’t discussing the Dorothea situation with her.  Cassidy’s common-sense input would undoubtedly prove helpful in figuring out how to deal with his wife, but he didn’t think it was fair to put her in that position.  His marriage wasn’t her problem and she had even said something earlier to that effect.

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” she’d offered while getting dressed.  “But it seems to me that it’s best for everybody if I keep my very biased opinions about the handlin’ of your marriage to myself.  What you decide to do, you’ll decide because you think it’s best, not because I pulled some emotional string.”

It made perfect sense to him, even though it left him floundering for a well-defined course of action.  He was supposed to sign the Titans paperwork tomorrow in Nashville, so he was here for the night.  That meant he wouldn’t be seeing his wife until at least tomorrow night, even though he still expected to hear from her in the next couple of hours – once she arrived home and found him gone. 

Maybe the right answer would come to him when he needed it. 

“Well, since that’s the way you’re lookin’ at it,” the younger Cassidy reasoned.  “You won’t mind me tellin’ you that my sister was meant for something more than a rinky dink town in Georgia.”

Jon’s eyes slid leisurely toward the feisty woman, completely unoffended by her subtle belligerence.  “I don’t disagree.”

“Then help her get a career that leads her to somethin’ better and brighter.”

He presumed she was talking about music but, before he got a chance to affirm that, Cassidy broke in with a quiet growl, “Do y’all realize I’m not an inanimate object and that there’s a shovel within reach?  Get out of here, Tucker!"

Glancing down at where she knelt beside the now-open box of gold, Jon gave her an appeasing wink as she shooed away the cat that had made his appearance.  “Libby, your sister doesn’t need me or anybody else to change her life.  If she decides it’s time for something different and wants my help to make it happen, she’ll ask with the knowledge that I won’t hesitate to step up.  In the meantime, she’ll continue to do exactly as she pleases.”

The younger woman, however, did not seem appeased and regarded him with a piqued frown.  “I can’t decide if you’re bein’ lazy or if you just know her that well.”

Jon was about to give her an explicitly detailed answer, when Cassidy’s quiet interjection stole his thunder.  “He knows me that well.  Now hush and help me empty out this box.”

Doing exactly as bidden, Libby dropped to her knees and began scooping out handfuls of gold coins and ingots as Jon’s phone chimed out from his pocket.

Lord, God, Jesus I hope it isn’t Dorothea.  I’d like to delay that just a little while longer.

“Excuse me,” he murmured to the women, pushing to his feet and striding toward the other side of the cabin as he extracted the iPhone.  It was his thought that a little distance wouldn’t hurt on the off chance it was his wife. 

Upon flipping open the case, though, he found that it wasn’t Dorothea but a New York phone number.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Bongiovi.  This is Manuel Sanchez in building management at Mercer Street.”

His first thought was that some condo-related disaster had occurred – either a broken pipe, fire or some other destructive pain in the ass.  “Hi, Manuel.  What’s up?”

“Well, sir.  We found Mrs. Bongiovi’s cell phone in the elevator a few moments ago.  Seeing as I have her phone in my hand and it’s not possible to call her, I’m contacting you.  Would you like us to hold it here?”

Jon’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, trying to come up with some reason as to why Dorothea had been in the building today.  She’d said she was going shopping after the therapist.

Maybe she bought something for the apartment.

It was always possible, he supposed, although that simple explanation didn’t sit right with him for some reason. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.  I’ll let her know and one of us will get it either today or tomorrow.  Appreciate you calling.”

“Yes, sir.  Goodbye.”

Disconnecting the call, he pondered the situation again.  The therapist’s office was on the opposite end of Manhattan from SoHo and Mercer Street.  What could she possibly have bought that necessitated an out-of-the-way cross-town trip?  That she couldn’t have delivered?

He was going to have to ask that question just to appease his sense of logic, he thought, dialing Jake’s cell number.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, bud,” he greeted the child who had proven to be most like him in both personality and looks.  “You at the house?”

“Yeah.”

Jon could hear the familiar sound of video games in the background and shook his head.  Those things were going to rot the boys’ brains before they got a driver’s license. 

“Is Mom home yet?”

“No.  I don’t think so.”

He couldn’t seem to find himself sorry about the fact.  “Give her a message for me when she gets there, okay?”

“Mhm.”

The increased sound of animation told that his middle son was more interested in whatever he was trying to electronically kill than what Jon was saying. 

“Jake.  Put down the damn controller and focus, please.”

There was a lusty sigh from his thirteen year old but the background noise dimmed to nothing.  “Okay.”

“Thank you.  Tell Mom they have her cell phone in building management on Mercer Street.  Got it?”

“Yeah.  Where are you?”

Another conversation that had been undermined by electronic entertainment.  “Nashville.  I’ll be home tomorrow evening.”

“That’s right, you’re buying a football team.”

“Remind Mom of that, too, since she might not have gotten my message before she lost her phone.”  He sucked for pawning that dirty job off on his boy, but there wasn’t much alternative.  Dorothea would be asking and, since she didn’t have a phone, Jon did what he had to do.

“Okay.  See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, kid.”

The phone was guided back into his pocket with a silent sigh.  All he wanted was to be happy.  Why was that such a damn chore?  Why couldn’t the world just cough up what he wanted for once in his life, without Jon having to fight tooth and nail for it?  Was that too much to fucking ask?

###

“So what’d y’all say to each other?” Libby asked nosily, poking through the pile of aged treasure that littered the patio while Cassidy fingered the envelope that was buried in the bottom of the box.  It didn’t seem quite right to open it without Jon present, so they were waiting for him to finish his call.

“I told him the truth.  What he decides to do with it is up to him.”

Luminous blue-gray eyes met Cassidy’s with curiosity.  “You love him, don’t you?”

“I do,” she affirmed, flicking the corner of the envelope with her thumb.  “Whether that makes a hill of beans in the end remains to be seen, but I do.”

“Oh, it matters.”  Her younger sister was confident in her proclamation as she sat Indian-style on the patio and flipped one of the coins into the air with her thumb.  “When you’re not watchin’, he looks at you.  You can see his mind workin’, tryin’ to figure it all out but, more than that, there’s a sweet affection in those eyes of his.  Like you hung the moon and the stars.”

“Stop romanticizin’ everything,” she ordered mildly.  “You’re seein’ what you wanna see.”

In truth, it made no difference whether Libby’s observations were truth or wishful thinking because, either way, they didn’t do anything but make it harder on Cassidy.  Jon hadn’t used the words today, but he’d said he loved her.  However, she knew there were other factors at play and that love might not be enough when it all came out in the wash. 

“You deserve romance,” Libby insisted.  “Doesn’t she, Jon?”

Cassidy’s head snapped around to find that he had finished his call and was standing behind her with both hands stuffed in his pockets.  When taking a quick survey of his features, she found that they held the tautness of discontent. 

“Every woman deserves a little romance,” he quietly stated.  “Some deserve more.”

Lord, it’s me again.  Just checkin’ in.  Sayin’ ‘hi’.  Prayin’ just because it feels like the thing to do, even though I dare not ask for what I’d really like to have.  I’m gonna just be content with whatever You see fit to do here, but could You do that sooner rather than later?  I’m havin’ a little difficulty keepin’ any distance at all and, if this lingers and then finally goes poorly…   Well, You get the idea.  So if You could lend a hand, I’d be mighty appreciative.   In Jesus’s name, Amen.

“What ‘cha got there?” Jon asked, nodding toward Cassidy’s hands.  “Is that what you were looking for?”

Redirecting her attention from the Lord to Jon, her chin fell to inspect the envelope that had her name scrawled on it in a spidery hand.  Having seen her name written in that exact same way for most of her life, she found it easily recognizable as her grandmother’s. 

“I expect so.  Seemed only fittin’ to wait for you before we opened it.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, resuming his seat in the patio chair and picking up the previously discarded Notre Dame hat to plunk on top of his head.  “But thank you.  Whaddaya say we see what’s inside?”

“Alright.”  Cassidy nodded her agreement and pushed her finger under the sealed flap, working it from one side to the other until the envelope was fully open and she could extract the sheet of paper inside.  There was a card of some sort stapled to the back, but she was more interested in reading the personalized message that her grandmother had left behind and immediately unfolded it to scan the contents.

“Read it out loud,” Libby ordered before Cassidy had gotten past the first line.  “Don’t make us wait.”

Shooting her sister a look, she nonetheless backtracked and took a deep breath to read aloud.

“Glory,

You’ve always been such a good girl and that’s why I knew you’d do exactly as I asked and keep the family legacy from Stanley.  He’s my son and I love him, but he’s got a screw loose when it comes to Pappy Sam’s gold. 

If I had to guess, I’d say it hasn’t been easy to get this far but I hope Calliope didn’t wait too long to give you my message.  Now that you have it, I want you to pay close attention.  Because you are a good girl, you’ll do what your MeMaw says one last time.  I know you will.

There’s a business card attached to this letter.  Call the woman and tell her about the gold.  She knows you’ll be calling with something of interest but that’s all the information she has. I want you to give her the three big chests and let her preserve the family history that goes along with them. 

No arguments, girl.  Just do it.

The little box (this box) I want you to divide in half.  Give one part to Stanley and, as your daddy’s heirs, you girls keep the other half to do with what you will.  I hope you’ll hang onto it and pass it to your children along with Pappy Sam’s story, but you have my blessing no matter what you decide.

It’s time for the Cassidy legacy to be something other than boxes buried in the back yard.  Your Papaw wanted this long ago, but he died and then I didn’t feel like dealing with it so I waited until you were ready. 

You’re ready, girl. 

I love you and your sister with all my heart and I’ll be looking down on you from Heaven, pointing you out to the Lord and saying, ‘Those are my girls.  Please keep Your hand on them.’

And He will.”

She dashed away a crocodile tear that had escaped when reaching the part about looking down from Heaven and Libby’s arms locked around her neck in a tight hug, sniffling alongside her.  “I miss her.”

“So do I,” Cassidy whispered, grateful for her sister’s presence at this poignant moment.  It felt good to have someone near who understood without additional explanation. 

With the two sisters twined so tightly together, Jon was able to do nothing more than rest a comforting hand on Cassidy’s back and ask, “What does the business card say?”

She took another moment to appreciate Libby’s closeness before gently separating from her with a subtle sniffle, and detached the card to read,  “Kelley Brett, Curator of Collections, National Civil War Museum, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.”

Her grandmother wanted the Confederate gold in a museum, and it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from Cassidy’s shoulders.  No more hiding, digging, relocating, quibbling…  All of that would go away and Pappy Sam and the Cassidy’s stories would be preserved for the ages, which was what Pappy had wanted all along.

“Well,” Jon offered, with a light squeeze at the back of her neck.  “At least we were all on the same page – and you’ve reached the end of the road.”

It was true, but her spot at the end of that particular road was still a pothole in the middle of another.  Until he decided what he was going to do about his wife and the Titans, Cassidy was still stuck hanging in limbo.