AN: Based somewhat on the song (you've heard it right? looove it) 'cause I like the idea of a bad boy thats supposed to be a good boy.

6-27-07: So I found out a few days ago the ever hilarious enigmaticnightangel plans to do a story similar to this in the near future. Because I'd rather read her story than write mine, I might drop this. That said, I'm keeping it up just in case I feel the urge to type. Sorry if that bugs people.

-son of a preacher man-

by

me

1

The house was smaller than she’d expected. Back in New York her mother had described it as ‘a quaint, charming home. Just the kind of place you’d love, Cass.’ Now, Cassidy’s mother stood in the doorway of the dusty old house, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, her eyes tired from hours of driving.

“It’s a little small.” Maggie sighed, sounding disappointed. However she quickly threw an encouraging smile behind her. “But, so is our family so its just perfect isn’t it?”

Perfect was the wrong word to describe it. Cassidy followed her mother into the front room with her suitcase dragging behind. The place was dark. There were heavy linen curtains drawn closed over the large front window. Almost black in color, the floor to ceiling drapes were proving a formidable blockade against the late afternoon sun making the house look all the more gloomy. It smelled funny too, like wet laundry that had been left out for days. Cassidy scrunched up her nose. Now that she was getting her first look at the home her mother had dragged her across the country for, she saw the euphemisms in Maggie’s description as plain as the peeling green wallpaper.

“We’ll take care of that.” Maggie nodded indicating the wallpaper Cassidy had been glowering at. “I told you it was a fixer-upper. You’re supposed to be looking at what could be.”

Cassidy was looking and could almost see it.

“Its got potential right?” Maggie’s voice was anxious for approval.

“Uh, yeah. Lots of potential.”

Cassidy’s mother turned to face her with her hands thrown to her sides. The small balloon of hope she’d been grasping had obviously deflated at Cassidy’s words.

“You don’t like it.” She sighed.

“No, I do. Honest. It’s just…different from what I was imagining.”

“You mean, small and ugly.”

Cassidy cleared her throat. It was enough of an answer.

“I’m sorry honey. I thought it’d be a fun project we could work on together. I guess I had a few too many beers the night I made that decision.” She laughed sadly and slumped onto the floor.

With her shoulders hunched Maggie’s dark, curled hair had fallen into her eyes. Looking at her mother Cassidy was overwhelmed with a rush a pity for the poor woman. With a sigh, Cassidy dropped her suitcase where she stood, marched to the dreary curtains and swung them apart. It was like switching on the sun. A glaring spill of daylight filled the room, sweeping over Maggie and her downcast eyes which were now blinking quickly.

“Come on.” Cassidy managed through coughs from the small dust cloud the curtains had drawn up. She reached for her mother’s wrist. “I haven’t even seen the place yet. At least show me my room before we start charting our way back to New York.”

Maggie grudgingly got to her feet but was wearing a small smile. She linked her arm around Cassidy’s waist. “Thanks baby girl.”

Her opinion of the house didn’t change much after the short tour. Their home in Whitney Point had never been anything to brag about but at least they had a second story and a long banister that Cassidy would slide down every morning before breakfast. There were no banisters in this one story rambler. But her mother had been right. It wasn’t a complete lemon and it certainly had potential. The ceilings were high and detailed with crown molding. There were built in bookshelves in the dining room which also had an arched entry which Maggie said added charm and Cassidy had to agree. Though they had been shrouded heavily by the previous owner, all the windows were large and for the most part faced east/west promising a sunrise and sunset every day. The green wallpaper would definitely have to go though and they would just have to work around the pee yellow countertops in the kitchen. Maybe if they accented in burnt umber and ochre…

“And look at this…” They were in what would be Cassidy’s room at the back of the house with Maggie doing her best to make the sale to her seventeen-year-old daughter. She motioned to the large bay window where she unhooked the latch and flung it open to the cool spring breeze. “Perfect for sneaking out on late nights.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes, covering a smile. “Are you encouraging my juvenile delinquency?”

“As if I could ever do that. I know the only way you’d be sneaking out of this window is if you’re late for school or something equally virtuous. ” She placed her hand on her heart dramatically. “God blessed me with the perfect child.”

Cassidy blushed. Surprisingly flustered, she pushed the window open further and leaned into the breeze. “You forgot I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Oh that’s right, damn it. I haven’t been to a good sea food restaurant for seventeen years because of you.”

“What can I say, I’m a menace.” She laughed, sitting on the edge of the sill with one leg curled under her.

Maggie came from behind and rested her chin on Cassidy’s small shoulder, the both of them watching the sun lower in the sky as the afternoon drew into evening.

“So what do you think? Should I call your Uncle Gareth and tell him to turn the U-haul around?”

There was a slight chill to the wind that swept over her and yet Cassidy was warm. Maybe because Maggie’s arms were around her. She leaned back into her hug, feeling ten years younger, a seven year old snuggled safely in her mother’s warmth. She had to fight the tears that suddenly threatened to fall.

“Don’t call him.” She said, sounding surprisingly at ease considering her nostalgia. She sighed, smiled and turned to eye Maggie behind her. “We’re here we might as well stay right?”

She felt Maggie’s kiss on the top of her head. “You’re a great kid, you know that?”

“Absolutely.”

Maggie laughed and they turned back to the window. “Well, the house might not be much but at least you can say the view is pretty damn good.”

“Mm.” Was Cassidy’s only response.

They were nestled on the outskirts of Glennville, Cassidy’s new home. Their property stretched an acre into the nearby wood where she was told could be found the Glennville Brook. If you followed it long enough, the stream of water eventually wound its way into town, right past the shopping center and under the covered bridge they’d driven over on their way in.

The lawn had been recently cut, probably by the realtor. The stretch of blue grass, sprinkled with apple trees and one sprawling walnut, was picturesque with tips of the wood and rolling hills draped in the backdrop. Someone had tied a rope to one of the lower branches in the walnut tree and it was swinging lazily in the breeze, knocking a lulling rhythm against the fat trunk. Listening to it, she was suddenly reminded of just how tired she was. Riding in a car for two days wasn’t the best energy boost.

Before she could let her eyes close, however, Maggie pulled away and tapped Cassidy’s hips. “Come on kiddo. Lets unpack that car. Don’t forget we’ve got a life to start tomorrow.”

A new life, you mean, Cassidy hummed to herself. That was the real reason they were out there after all, not the house, or the picture perfect view, or even Maggie’s job that started tomorrow. The funny part was they had already begun their new life long before they arrived in Glennville, even before Maggie had visited her friend Eden and come home with an offer on this place. She knew what her mother was doing, but Cassidy couldn’t imagine how a few hundred miles would make much of a difference. He’d still be gone in the morning when they woke up and they’d still be thinking of him where ever this new life took them.