Page 44 of Legally Yours
“Yes, that’s right. And he had a lot to fear back then, didn’t he?”
I slowly nod my head. “I wonder what it’s like to literally have the world on your shoulders like FDR?”
“Well, all I know is it doesn’t matter who becomes President of the United States. They go in with dark hair and leave the office gray or white. If that isn’t an answer to your question, I don’t know what is.”
Leslie hands me another cup of hot coffee. She’s put a ton of sugar in it. I drink coffee black. I don’t fight the sugar. I need all the help I can get.
“Kind of puts our petty fears into place, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Cass. It does. FDR faced a world war and tyrants at every turn. How many days do you think he spent in bed staring up at the White House ceiling?” Leslie smirks.
I smile back. “Maybe a few.”
“Smarty pants. Okay, so you and FDR have had a few. But don’t you think it’s time to get up, get dressed, and win the war?”
I smile again. This time, it’s a bigger grin.
36
CASSANDRA
Leslie’s talk with me hit home. I smile, thinking back on it. FDR is saving my bacon? The idea is funny and for the first time in days, I laugh.
All I have to fear is fear itself. Did that saying come to mind by Franklin because of the impending world war or because he had a manipulative mother-in-law, too?
Again, the thought makes me chuckle. I raise my head and speak skyward. “Thanks, Franklin. I needed to hear that.”
For the first time in days, I get my act together. When I wake up, I get out of bed, shower, and get dressed. No ceiling staring. No ‘oh woe is me’ act.
I don’t lie to myself, either. Liam still consumes my mind – his look, his voice, the way he walks, his beguiling scent. But from the grave, President Roosevelt kicked my butt. I don’t like to be schooled, but obviously I need it. I take my obsession and my sorrow, and I package it up in my fear and let it dissolve in my coffee cup along with the sugar.
I drink the coffee and look outside, and I tell the windowpane my plans. “Window, I’m going to call Liam today. I’m going to tell him I want to meet. No, wehaveto meet. I’ll tell him we have to talk things over from start to finish. He’ll hear the intensity in my voice. He won’t say no. And then when we’re face to face, I’ll tell him how I really feel. The good, the bad and the FDR fearful ugly. At this point, window, I have nothing to lose.”
I pick up my cell and click on Liam’s number. It starts ringing…
I hang up! I talk to the window again. “Oh, God, no! I’m going to screw this up. I know I will. I’m dead nervous. My mouth is fuzzy. My tongue feels three times its size. And my brain knows no proper words. I’ll sound like a complete idiot on the phone, and Liam will thank his lucky stars he dodged a bullet.”
I’m losing it. In my mind’s eye, the window talks back.
Put down your phone. Wipe off your clammy hands. And get another coffee. Add cream and sugar. Sit back down and stare at me a little while longer.
I can’t argue with plate glass, so I do what it says.
I sip at the coffee. It tastes sweet and creamy. Geez, being a model who barely eats sucks. Who knew coffee could taste this good?
I stare at the windowpane. “Okay, what else you got for me?”
After that coffee, go for a walk. Your head is all over the place ‘cause you haven’t exercised in days. How can your synapses properly function without energy? Exercise gives you energy.
“Uh, I already know I should be committed to Bellevue for talking to a windowpane, but exactly how do you know all this? You’re only glass.”
.I sigh deeply. “Okay, smart window, I’ll do what you say. I don’t know how a walk will help. But since you’re the only one around who's giving me advice, I’ll go.”
Good for you. Your shoes are at the door. Wear a coat. It’s chilly out there. I should know.
And with a chuckle, I get up, rinse out my coffee cup, and hit the pavement.
I put my feet on autopilot and let them take me where they want to go. I concentrate on breathing in and out, in and out. Leslie’s window is right. It’s chilly out here. An east river wind, I suspect.