Mistakes Were Made(34)

Cassie just looked at her.

“Take your present,” Parker said.

Cassie kept looking at Parker, then turned her head to look at Erin.

“I get one, too?” There was the slightest hint of wonder in Cassie’s voice.

“Duh.” Parker acted like this wasn’t a special moment, but it felt like something to Erin.

Cassie took the present.

It was pajamas, of course. Erin had gotten Cassie dark gray flannel pants with little stars all over them and a midnight blue top; Parker’s set was light blue. Parker insisted they put them on immediately, which Cassie made fun of her for—“You know, for someone who was complaining about pajamas, you’re pretty excited right now.” “They’re just so soft!”—and took selfies to send Acacia. Cassie made a different ridiculous face for each picture, no matter how many times Parker told her to quit it.

Erin wondered if the smile on her face looked as soft as she felt.

Some days her life was a thundercloud following her around—all of her mistakes, every moment wasted on something she didn’t actually want, the way she still cared too much about her mom’s disapproving voice even though it no longer existed anywhere but in the back of her mind. But some days—this day—everything was blue sky. Like there were wings on her shoulders instead of the weight of the world.

As lovely as the evening was, Erin didn’t want the day to end without addressing the worst part of it. Cassie’s door was open after she’d brushed her teeth, but Erin knocked on the door jamb anyway. Cassie looked up and gave her a grin.

“I just wanted to say good night,” Erin said.

“Good night, Erin. Thanks for the pajamas.”

“Of course.”

She took a step into the room. Broke eye contact. She was being awkward. This didn’t need to be a big deal. There was no reason for her heart to be in her throat.

“I’m sorry. About earlier. About Adam. He can be…” She trailed off and looked at Cassie. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Erin took a step closer. “It’s not.”

She wanted to fix this, to make it better, somehow. Like she could fix misogyny. Cassie made things so much better for her, yesterday, and she wanted to return the favor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cassie said, like it didn’t matter. “Thanks for … you know. Calling him out.”

She’d heard, then. Erin should have been harder on him. Should have called him a dick.

She should not have taken another step toward Cassie, who was looking at the ground now. When her eyes came back to Erin’s, her intake of breath wasn’t quite a gasp, but it turned into one when Erin leaned in and kissed her.

Parker was in the bathroom down the hall and the door to the guest room was open, and Erin was an idiot, she knew she was an idiot, but she was kissing Cassie anyway. She bit at her mouth and tugged her closer by the hips and Cassie moaned. Erin wanted to moan back. She wanted to be loud. She wanted to press closer to Cassie, wanted inside her. Cassie’s hands slipped under Erin’s shirt and Erin nodded and bit down. Cassie’s fingernails dug in. Erin pushed her leg hard between Cassie’s, and Cassie sighed like that was what she’d been waiting for and ground down and—

The bathroom door opened.

Erin was immediately halfway across the room. Cassie looked like she was going to complain before she seemed to remember. Parker.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Erin said exactly like a weird, uncool mom. “Santa doesn’t visit unless you’re asleep.”

“God, Mom,” Parker said from the hall, “I haven’t heard that one since I was like eleven.”

Parker was in the doorway then, right there, and Erin smiled at her daughter. It felt like she was watching the scene from above, like this was so fucked up her mind had tried to escape.

“I guess I better get to bed,” Cassie said. Her voice was perfectly steady, while Erin was fucking dissociating. “Wouldn’t want Santa to skip the house.”

Parker laughed. “Night, babe.”

“Night.”

Erin followed her daughter out of the room, closing the door behind her without looking at Cassie.

“Good night, Mom,” Parker said. “Almost Christmas.”

“Almost Christmas,” Erin said.





Nine





CASSIE


Cassie had never gotten particularly excited for Christmas as a kid. She might have gotten a toy if she was lucky, but mostly it was her mom hauling her to every soup kitchen she could find, like maybe if she fed Cassie three Christmas dinners she wouldn’t have to feed her again for a while. When Cassie got older she’d marched into her favorite kitchen and offered to volunteer. They knew her there—she’d been coming for years—but they’d given her a ladle and let her eat in the back when she took a break, away from everyone else.

She didn’t hold a grudge, had nothing against the holiday now. But she wasn’t the type to bounce out of bed or anything like that. Especially not after last night.

Instead, she lay flat on her back and stared at the popcorn ceiling.

Erin had kissed her.

Erin had kissed her. With Parker down the hall.

She still had to wrap Erin’s present. She’d planned to wrap it last night, but there was no chance of that once Erin had kissed her. Cassie wasn’t good at wrapping gifts to begin with; trying to do it when she couldn’t stop thinking about Erin’s lips? It probably would’ve looked like it’d been wrapped by someone without opposable thumbs.