18. Eighteen

Eighteen

Kendrick

As we sit at the kitchen table, responses to Cassidy’s birthday party flood my inbox. She decorates envelopes with glittery pens, her excitement infectious–A party at the old house with cake, music, and laughter with her friends. Her enthusiasm is a joy to watch, and for a while, everything feels perfect–until I start reading the messages.

One girl accepts and asks, ‘Will your mom’s friend be there? OMG, Cass Wild at a party! So cool!’ Another RSVP follows with a similar tone: ‘I wouldn’t miss it! Cass Wild is my favorite!’

I glance at Cassidy, her face lit up as she writes, ‘Thank you for coming!’ on the back of a card. She hasn’t seen the messages yet, and my heart aches at the thought of how they might hurt her.

By the time another girl responds with a variation of the same question— Is Cass Wild really going to be there?’ —the knot in my stomach tightens. These girls aren’t coming to celebrate Cassidy’s birthday. They’re coming to see Cass Wild , the rock star. And while I understand the appeal, I can’t help but feel protective of my daughter, who deserves a birthday surrounded by genuine friends, not opportunists.

“Cassidy,” I say gently, “Let’s take a break from the invitations for a bit.”

“Why?” she asks, looking up from her handiwork. “I’m almost done with these last few.”

“I just thought you might want a snack,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “How about some milk and cookies?”

Her eyes brighten. “Okay! Chocolate chip?”

I nod, grateful for the small reprieve. As I pull the cookies from the pantry and pour two glasses of cold milk, I try to think of the right way to approach the subject. How do I shield her from the harsher realities of her father’s fame without ruining her excitement over her birthday?

When we sit back down at the table, I hand her the glass and try to sound casual. “So, I noticed a lot of people are really excited about your party.”

Her smile widens. “Yeah, it’s going to be amazing! Everyone said yes so far!”

“They did,” I agree, carefully choosing my words. “But... some of them seem more interested in meeting Cass Wild, the rockstar, than celebrating your birthday.”

Cassidy freezes mid-sip, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

I hesitate. Turning my laptop, I show her a couple of the messages. Her face falls as she reads them, the sparkle in her eyes dimming. “Oh. They aren’t coming for me, are they?”

“Don’t take it personally, sweetheart,” I say quickly, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Sometimes people get caught up in the idea of meeting a star and forget what really matters.”

“But they’re supposed to be my friends,” she whispers, her voice small. “Why would they do that?”

The pain in her voice cuts straight through me. “They don’t mean to hurt you,” I say softly. “They’re excited about meeting Cass, but that doesn’t mean they don’t care about you.”

Cassidy looks down at the table, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “It just feels... fake.”

I nod, understanding all too well. “It’s hard sometimes, isn’t it? Having a famous dad means people will act differently around you, even when you wish they wouldn’t.”

She nods, her eyes welling with tears. “I just wanted a fun birthday with my friends. Not... this.”

My heart breaks for her, and I move to sit beside her, pulling her into a hug. “I know, sweetheart. And I promise we’ll make it special. The people who truly care about you—the ones who are really your friends—will be there for you , not because of Cass.”

She sniffles, burying her face in my shoulder. “Sometimes, I wish he wasn’t quite so famous.”

I stroke her hair, my own eyes stinging with tears. “I know. But your dad loves you more than anything, Cassidy. And he’d trade all the fame in the world to make your birthday celebration happy.”

She pulls back slightly, wiping her eyes. “He’ll be there, right? For my party?”

I smile, cupping her cheek. “He promised he’d be there, didn’t he? And your dad doesn’t break his promises.”

Cassidy nods, her tears slowing though the sadness lingers in her eyes. “Okay. But can we not invite any more people? I just want it to be small. With only Holly and a few true friends who really want to be there.”

“Of course,” I say, relieved to see a hint of a smile return to her face. “It’s your day, Cassidy. We’ll make it exactly how you want it.”

As she goes back to her cards, her movements are more subdued now, and I sit quietly, watching her. The weight of what she’s experiencing at such a young age presses heavily on my heart. She shouldn’t have to navigate these complicated emotions—feeling torn between pride in her father and the ugliness that sometimes comes with his fame.

Later that night, in his arms, after we’ve made love, Cass asks me, “What should I get Cassidy for her birthday? I want it to be special—something unforgettable.” His arms tighten around me. “Do you know what she’d like?”

Looking up at him, I smile. “Why not give her something she’ll always remember? An experience—like a trip or an adventure she’s never had before.” Turning to face him, I ask, “What’s your favorite childhood memory? It’s something happy and memorable, right?”

Cass goes quiet. “A happy memory…” His lips curve upward in a smile, and he nods. “I’ve got it.” Looking down at me, he whispers, “Thank you, Kendrick. That’s what I’ll give her. Something to remember.”

He leans forward, gives me a slow kiss, and holds me close as I fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning, I rise early and head downstairs to fix breakfast.

When Cassidy and her father arrive at the table, I have to smile. Their shared mannerisms are uncanny, from their half- asleep expressions to the way they perk up at the smell of bacon. Watching them together warms my heart in ways I hadn’t expected.

Setting a plate full of waffles down in front of them, I turn to get the butter and warm syrup. Next is the bacon. I watch as they both smile their appreciation and dig in.

The conversation is slow but comfortable as they both come fully awake. Just as we’re finishing breakfast, Cass’s phone rings. He frowns when he sees it’s Derrick.

“I better take this,” he mumbles as he answers the call. Pushing away from the table, he walks into the living room.

“Hey, Derrick, what’s up?”

Glancing at Cassidy, I say, “Help me clear the table?”

Nodding, she stands and helps me with the dishes. We give each other a look filled with concern when Cass’s voice, low and tense, carries in from the other room.

I glance toward the doorway, frowning as I catch the clipped tone of his words. He’s pacing in the living room, phone pressed to his ear, his free hand raking through his hair in that telltale sign of frustration.

“Derrick, I’ve told you,” Cass says, his voice louder now, the strain unmistakable. “That’s Cassidy’s birthday. I’m not missing it.”

Cassidy’s head jerks up, her small hands gripping the plate so tightly I worry it might crack. She looks at me with wide, questioning eyes, and I gently lay a hand on her shoulder, silently telling her it’s okay. But my stomach twists, knowing all too well how these conversations with Derrick tend to go.

“I don’t care how big of an opportunity it is,” Cass continues, his voice hardening. “She only gets a twelfth birthday once, Derrick.”

Cassidy’s face falls slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Is Dad going to miss my party?” she whispers, her voice small and uncertain.

I shake my head, forcing a reassuring smile. “He’s not going to miss it,” I say firmly, though my heart is already bracing for the possibility.

Cass’s voice rises again, and this time, it’s impossible not to hear every word. “You can guarantee I’ll be back? No delays, no excuses?”

Cassidy’s lips press together tightly, and her excitement dims. I can tell she’s trying to be brave, but the way her shoulders slump breaks my heart.

I give her a quick squeeze. “Why don’t you finish cleaning up while I see what’s going on?”

She nods slowly, her small shoulders slumping as she sets the plate down with a hesitant glance my way. I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and head toward the living room, standing just out of sight as Cass speaks.

“You promise, Derrick?” he says, his tone low but intense. “Okay, but nothing better go wrong.”

There’s a pause, and I can almost feel the tension radiating from him. He sighs heavily, raking his hand through his hair again. “Fine. But only for the day before, Derrick. I mean it.”

He ends the call with a sharp tap and turns, his eyes immediately meeting mine. Guilt flashes across his face, followed by a weary sigh.

“You heard,” he says, his voice soft.

I nod, stepping into the room. “Cassidy heard, too,” I say gently, crossing my arms. “She’s worried you won’t make the party.”

He exhales deeply. Frustration etched into his features. “I hate this, Kendrick. I hate that I even have to deal with Derrick’s endless round of appearances.”

“Then don’t,” I say quietly, my gaze steady. “Tell him no. Not on her birthday.”

“I did,” he says quickly, his voice heavy with emotion. “I promised Cassidy that I’d be there, and I will. No matter what. The network wanted me there the day of her birthday, but I agreed only to the day before. Derrick promised I’d be back the evening before her birthday.”

His conviction is clear, but so is the weight he’s carrying. I place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “I know you will try to keep your promise.” Giving him a direct look. “But I don’t trust Derrick, and Cassidy really wants you to be there.”

Cass nods, his jaw tightening. “I’ll be there. No matter what it takes.”

And as much as I want to believe him, a part of me still worries. Because sometimes, even the best intentions can’t stop the chaos that surrounds Derrick. He has a way of ruining all our plans and celebrations.

Cass waits by the front door, his face a mix of determination and guilt. Cassidy stands beside him, holding the handmade birthday banner she’s been working on all morning. Her big gray eyes, so full of hope, are fixed on her dad as he crouches down to her level.

“Cassidy, I swear I’ll be there,” he says, crouching down to meet her eyes, his voice unwavering. “No excuses. I’ll be there to help you blow out your candles. All twelve of them.”

Cassidy holds the banner to her chest, her lips curving into a small smile, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. “You promise?” she whispers.

“Cross my heart,” Cass says, his hand brushing over her hair. “You’re my top priority, Cassidy. Nothing is going to keep me away.”

Her smile brightens a little, and she nods, but as he stands, I notice her fingers tightening around the banner.

I step closer, giving him a hug. “She’s counting on you, Cass. We both are,” I whisper softly.

He meets my gaze, his blue eyes filled with resolve. “I’ll make it, Kendrick–always. I won’t let her down. Derrick or no Derrick.”

I nod, wanting to believe him, but as he leans down to kiss Cassidy’s forehead and heads toward the door, a familiar pang of worry settles in my chest. Fame and the spotlight have a way of derailing even the best-laid plans, and I know how much it would hurt Cassidy if he didn’t show.

As the door closes behind him, Cassidy turns to me, her expression uncertain. “He’ll be back, right, Mom?”

I force a smile and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “He’ll be back,” I say firmly, more for her sake than mine. “Your dad will move heaven and earth to be there. Let’s finish getting everything ready for tomorrow night. Okay?”

She nods slowly, her smile returning as we head back to the kitchen, but I can’t help the tiny seed of doubt taking root in my heart. Promises are easy to make, but with Derrick involved, keeping them feels like balancing on a razor’s edge. And Cassidy’s fragile hope hangs in the balance.