TM - 289 - Cheer someone up
After the Student Academy Awards, Cassidy doesn't even have the energy to talk to Donna Pascal. Weeks and weeks of raving about the star of Saturday Night Fever, and her loss has brought her down so far that she can't even enjoy it when the actress chooses to party after the show in our suite. Nash missed it, of course. Part of me wonders if that's half the reason Cass is so distraught, but the rest of me is positive that she'd be even more distraught if her father had been there to watch her lose.
Leaving poor Donna Pascal in Nick's company, I find Cassidy on the balcony, sulking. Of course. But I guess seventeen-year-olds are entitled to sulking privileges. Give it a few more years and everyone's just going to tell her to suck it up. We're both quiet for awhile, as I think of what the hell I can offer her to get her out of this funk. My first instinct is a dessert buffet, but she's already been complaining to everyone in San Francisco that it's my fault she's gained five pounds. As if I force my desserts down her throat or something. We could go up to Sonoma maybe, for a weekend. But what the hell would she do in wine country? Sonoma was the weapon Nash used to unleash on me whenever I got on his case for working so much. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it, I'll take you up to Sonoma next weekend." He never would, of course, but the mere proposition used to shut me up for awhile. And Cass is too old for Disneyland. I assume.
With a sigh, I sit down beside her sloaching frame and slip an arm around her shoulders. "Can't win 'em all, kiddo." She glances over at me, totally unimpressed. "Uh, thanks, Mom."
Seventeen-year-olds are hard to cheer up. The only real solution, I have learned, is to wait until they finally forget about it. And they will forget about it.
Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 340
Leaving poor Donna Pascal in Nick's company, I find Cassidy on the balcony, sulking. Of course. But I guess seventeen-year-olds are entitled to sulking privileges. Give it a few more years and everyone's just going to tell her to suck it up. We're both quiet for awhile, as I think of what the hell I can offer her to get her out of this funk. My first instinct is a dessert buffet, but she's already been complaining to everyone in San Francisco that it's my fault she's gained five pounds. As if I force my desserts down her throat or something. We could go up to Sonoma maybe, for a weekend. But what the hell would she do in wine country? Sonoma was the weapon Nash used to unleash on me whenever I got on his case for working so much. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it, I'll take you up to Sonoma next weekend." He never would, of course, but the mere proposition used to shut me up for awhile. And Cass is too old for Disneyland. I assume.
With a sigh, I sit down beside her sloaching frame and slip an arm around her shoulders. "Can't win 'em all, kiddo." She glances over at me, totally unimpressed. "Uh, thanks, Mom."
Seventeen-year-olds are hard to cheer up. The only real solution, I have learned, is to wait until they finally forget about it. And they will forget about it.
Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 340