Loving Cassie

Tennessee Whiskey

Tennessee Whiskey

The apartment was definitely smaller than our house, but I knew this was going to be good for us. Instead of the overwhelming five bedroom three and a half bath home on a sprawling fourteen acres I was used to, I was now in a two bedroom, one bath apartment with boxes strewn all around. It had taken a little over six weeks, but we were finally here an hour and a half away from the only home I'd ever known. Red Mire was a small town, with a little less than half of the people I was used to and I was still adjusting, While the transition had been simple enough for both me and my little guy, it hadn't been for Daddy. He was outraged that I would leave my only home and allow that cheating husband of mine to stay -- of course he knew as well as I did that I couldn't stay anymore. Legally, the house was Dalton's parents', so I had to find somewhere else to stay anyway, and it definitely couldn't be the Red Oak, where I knew I'd run into my sister. Like any small town, it hadn't taken long for the news of their affair to spread, and once it did I had become the newest town attraction. People stopped to stare in the streets and shop owners shot me pity filled looks as I waited for my groceries to be rung up. I had barely managed to avoid confrontation with Carrie.

I wasn't ready for that yet.

So, I packed up mine and Walker's things and informed Dalton of our move, only to hear that "[He] wasn't planning on perusing full custody, and would be sent monthly child support checks until Walker was of age." Dalton had added more fuel to the fire by notifying me that he would only visit once every two months to see Walker because he had other responsibilities to take care of.

Responsibilities.

Like our son was a load of laundry to do or a bill to be paid.

I had nearly thrown my cell phone at his head when he'd said that, but I had refrained. What was the point? He wasn't going to change his mind. Walker was no more important to him now than his mother's annual charity event. Dalton Holland cared more about Carrie and their soon to be offspring than he did about anything else.

While it bothered me to know that he cared so little, it also helped steel my nerves and validate how I felt about the decision to move. I knew that Walker was going to be okay as long as I was around, because the last thing I would ever do in this world, was hurt him. I took a minute to look around my fortress of boxes, talking in the small amount of furniture I'd managed to scrap together for the apartment, and smiled.

Yes, this was good for us. We didn't need Dalton.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

* * * * *

I was eyeing the unopened bottle of white wine sitting on my counter like one would if Channing Tatum were standing in their home completely naked. A whole part of me wanted to yank the cork out of the bottle and pour a nice, healthy glass, but I wasn't sure I could. It had been years since I'd touched alcohol. I knew my tolerance would be minuscule and I'd always had a low tolerance even when I had the chance to drink. But, given the current circumstances of my life, a drink -- the oblivion it provided -- sounded like heaven but I couldn't seem to do it. I had all of these scenarios of what would happen if I got a little tipsy running through my head. I mean, c'mon, I had a small child to take care of. Sure, one glass of wine wasn't too bad, but after the last few weeks I'd had, I couldn't be sure I'd stop at one.

With a sigh, I looked away from the bottle calling my name and towards the stack of broken down boxes sitting by the front door. I had finally gotten all of our stuff unpacked earlier in the day, but hadn't had the inspiration to take the trash out. I needed to, I knew I wouldn't be fully satisfied with my move in until I did. I checked on Walker once more, before I dug some footwear out of the closet. Grumbling the whole way back to the living room, I yanked on my favorite boots, similar to those I wore the day Dalton and I married, and started dragging off arm fulls of trash. The night was warm, balmy and humid, the scent of pending rain heavy in the air. The complex we're in is small, no more than a single building, with eight tenants at full occupation. I had heard it called the Bachelor Pad and when I asked why, the answer was simple; normally it was filled with single men. I was the first woman to rent in a little over five years.
So far, the gentleman above me was fairly quiet. From what little I'd heard, he lived alone and worked nights. The person across the way was fairly quiet too, and drove a large black truck covered in red dirt. I hadn't seen any of them in person, but hoped that they didn't mind the noise that Walker provided, especially late night. At this point, I couldn't complain about anything.

Well, I could, but it had nothing to do with my new neighbors.

I couldn't seem to find a job and the allotted amount of money Dalton had kindly allowed me to keep when we split was going fast. Walker still went through diapers fairly quickly and while he was breast fed, he still needed baby food and snacks. I had only bought the necessities for our fridge, which included the makings for a sandwich, a jar of peanut butter, celery sticks, a bag of baby carrots and two cartons of almond milk. We were definitely not living the life we were accustomed to before.

I was hoping -- praying -- that the bakery I applied to early this morning gets back at me soon. It would be difficult, especially considering I would have to have Daddy take care of Walker for the time I was working, but we could do it. I think.

Thinking about this made me rethink opening that damned bottle.

* * * * *

Music flowed through the whole apartment, it seemed to liven up every room despite the melancholy tone of the music. The sound of the artist's voice soothed my soul in ways I hadn't known I needed. I was currently standing barefoot in the kitchen, with the back sliding glass doors wide open, cooking one of my favorite dishes. Walker was at Daddy's for the weekend, he said that I needed to celebrate my first full paycheck by enjoying a little alone time. It had taken me two and a half weeks and numerous applications, but I'd managed to snag and hold down a job. I'd been lucky enough to actually get called back about the job in the bakery I'd applied for and so far, I was loving it. My boss, a flamboyant man named Donnie, was a total peach. The moment I'd entered the front door of Delish! he'd scooped me into his bulgy arms and hugged me to death, proclaiming he didn't need an interview and simply whisked me to his office to fill out formal documents and to "gush like girls". His accent was a little scattered, and I'd learned from his ramblings that he was originally from Brooklyn, but had relocated to Texas six years ago when he'd met his husband, Jack. Now, Jack and Donnie together was a sight to see. Donnie stood at a jaw dropping six-foot-four, weighed a good three hundred pounds and was covered from neck to wrist in colorful tattoos. He almost always had a mischievous gleam in his grey eyes and a smile on his lips. Jack, well, Jack was barely five-five and one hundred sixty pounds soaking wet. He had this innocent gleam to his cerulean eyes and a baby face that made him seem much younger than he was -- to add to it, he had a head full of silvery blond curls that framed his face. But, they were the most adorable couple I'd ever seen. Donnie kissed the ground Jack walked on, treated him like a prince, and I secretly envied their bond.

With a fond smile as I recalled my week, I finished rolling up the thin stuffed chicken breasts and began to bread them. By far, Chicken Cordon Bleu was my favorite thing to make, I almost always paired it with roasted garlic and red pepper mashed potatoes and lightly grilled green beans. Dalton had never like my version since I stuffed it with sun-dried tomatoes, cream cheese and spinach, but I was doing for me now, not him. Tonight, since I'd pumped enough milk to last, I was indulging in the bottle of white wine I'd practically lusted over weeks ago.

As I took a gulp of the sweet wine, I heard a knock on my front door, one that broke the trance Chris Stapleton's voice seemed to have put me in. I was surprised. I hadn't had a single visitor except for Daddy since I moved in. Looking out the peephole that I could barely peer into, I sighed and unlocked the door.