“Did you ever tell him what happened to you in high school? Help him understand?” I ask gently.
“No.” Casey shakes her head. “That’s not exactly something that comes up on your third date at Mastro’s over butter cake.”
“Mmm, butter cake.” I smile before adding, “I guess I just was thinking if he had known, he might have understood why you went a bit crazy.” I stand up and walk toward the fireplace, glancing at a picture of Casey and me from New Year’s Eve four years ago that I’d dug out of her closet last week. We’re drunk and hanging on to each other for dear life. I smile to myself. When had we stopped leaning on each other?
“What’s done is done,” Casey says flatly.
“Not necessarily,” I answer. “These past few weeks, he’s really opened his heart back up.”
“Yeah, to you! He seems to like the Rachel-ized version of me much better than the real Casey.” She laughs nervously and we both know she’s not kidding.
“Well, yes, but it’s you he’s in love with.” As I say it, I realize how foolish I’ve been to think that what Charlie and I have is real. For him, it will always be Casey. And that’s the way it should be. “The only thing I did was let him back in. The question is, can you do the same when you get back into your body?”
“I think I can.” She rubs her temples. “If we ever figure out how to do that.”
“We will, I promise,” I say, and mean it. Then I put my arms around her and try to be there for her the way I wasn’t so many years ago, the way I have really never been.
CHAPTER 31
* * *
casey
“How many more?” Audrey groans as she slaps another personalized label on the mini Mo?t & Chandon champagne bottles we’re giving as party favors for John’s surprise party this weekend. Let’s toast to the birthday boy! printed on the side of each one. Rachel and I thought it would be cute to give the guests something to toast with, since that’s what got us into this whole body-switching mess in the first place. It was our own little inside joke.
I check my list. “About twenty,” I answer and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. It had been a few days since the dance and she seemed to be bouncing back well. I thought that kicking Chris’ ass in the hotel room had even given her a quiet strength I hadn’t seen before. Or maybe I was just looking at her differently now. Either way, her main concern had been about what Chris would say to her at school the next week, what he would tell his friends, or worse yet, what he would post on Facebook. But to her surprise, he walked up on Monday morning and apologized, and begged her to forgive him; she reluctantly agreed to just so he would leave her alone. “It was crazy, Mom!” she said breathlessly after bursting through the door after school as I was giving Charlotte a bath. “It was as if he was scared of me!” She held up her arm and flexed her muscles. “I guess I’m tougher than I thought,” she murmured proudly.
I tickled Charlotte’s naked tummy and she giggled in delight. “You certainly are,” I said to Audrey as I wrapped Charlotte in a hooded ducky towel.
“It’s just so weird. What could have changed his attitude so much?” Audrey took Charlotte out of my hands and carried her expertly to her room to dress her.
“I have no idea,” I called out as she pranced down the hall. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and sent a quick text to Rachel: The eagle has landed.
My phone vibrated a moment later: Good work. I owe you one.
I smiled to myself before responding: The pleasure was all mine.
I grab my notebook with the RSVPs for John’s party and flip back a few pages to read the word we wrote down when we met Jordan, the psychic. Promotion. What did it mean? Rachel and I had a major breakthrough the other night. But was it enough? And what does a promotion have to do with it? I shake my head and put the notebook back on the table as my phone vibrates again. Another text from Rachel: Hey, tough girl, I’m coming to dinner tonight.