She rubbed her hands together. “You know, life’s too short to hold grudges, but if you’re asking me if I like or respect Mr. Storms, the answer is a definite no. After years of service and no issues, the man railroaded me without a second thought. And it wasn’t good enough to fire me. He called the police too. He and his son stood by, watching me taken away.” She shook her head, her eyes downcast at the memory.
He placed a hand over hers. “I’m sorry to bring all this up again.”
She brushed off his statement with a wave of her hand. “How did you come to see Cassandra again?” she asked.
“She called the office. Turns out she wanted to interview me.”
His mother nodded. “I see. And did you do the interview?”
“We’re just beginning. She’s looking for something more in-depth than a one-time conversation.”
“So you’re spending time with her and the past is getting in the way?” his mother astutely asked.
“That’s part of it.” He dug into the cake, needing a big bite of fortification for the rest of this conversation.
“And the other part?” His mother pushed for information.
Derek swallowed the delicious piece of cake and followed it up with another sip of coffee. “We’re spending time together aside from work, and that’s why the past is coming between us.”
“Oh, good lord,” his mother murmured. “Christopher Storms would have a coronary if he knew.”
“Is that wishful thinking?” Derek asked wryly.
His mother shot him a warning look. Yeah, yeah. He knew. Don’t wish anyone ill.
But he hadn’t considered what Cassie’s family would think about them seeing each other, mostly because he hadn’t initially considered them getting together anything more than a fling. Getting her out of his system so he’d stop obsessing about the gorgeous girl with the big brown eyes. That long, luxurious hair. The breasts he couldn’t keep his hands off and the body he craved entry to.
Shit. These were not the thoughts to have around his mother. But they certainly proved his biggest issue. He wasn’t getting Cassie out of his system any time soon.
“Oh, son, you have it bad, don’t you?” his mother asked, a knowing smile on her face.
“What? No. It’s just—”
“Don’t lie to your mother,” she said, the words a verbal slap. She always did know when he wasn’t telling the truth. “You can’t hold Cassie responsible for what her father did.”
“No, that’s not her fault, any more than the fact that I was the maid and the gardener’s son,” he said, admitting more of what was bothering him.
His mother pursed her lips. “Facts are what facts are. Either you can live with them or you can’t.”
“That’s pretty much what Cassie said.”
She nodded. “Smart girl. You need to move on from the past. Holding a grudge isn’t going to bring your father back,” she said, hitting on the crux of all he hadn’t said.
An immediate lump formed in his throat, his chest heavy with sadness. His father had developed a hacking cough that he treated with over-the-counter cough medicine. He continued to work at menial jobs, the only ones he could get without references for his past years of work. By the time he started coughing blood and did seek treatment, he was diagnosed him with incurable lung cancer. Too much time had passed with him undiagnosed and untreated.
“Don’t you ever wonder, if things had been different, if you’d both had jobs and health insurance, if he would still be alive today?”
She blinked in surprise. “What? No. Derek, your father was a stubborn man. There’s no saying he would have gone to the doctor any sooner.”
He reared back in shock. All these years he’d believed one narrative. “I always thought if he’d just had insurance, things would have been different.”
“Because it was easier to blame someone else.”
“I still blame Christopher Storms.”
“If that helps you sleep at night, go ahead. But don’t add Cassandra to the list.”
He pushed the cake plate away, his appetite gone. “Thanks for the talk,” he said, appreciating his mother’s honesty.