Last One Home (13 page)

“Very funny.”

“If you think I’m joking, then you’re wrong.” Cassie took a
deep breath and plunged ahead. “From everything I’ve heard about your wife, she was an amazing woman. In the time I’ve worked with Habitat two or three people mentioned Alicia, and each time there is this sense of great loss. Mingled in with what they had to say was an appreciation for having had the opportunity to know her and work with her. If you don’t want my advice, Steve, just ask yourself how Alicia would feel about you dating Britt.”

His face flushed a deep shade of red as he whirled around and stormed out of the salon. Nearly everyone in the shop froze and watched him slam the door.

“What was that about?” Teresa, the shop owner, asked, as she approached Cassie.

She shrugged. “I offered some unsolicited advice.”

“You know him?”

She nodded. “He’s the project manager for the Habitat home I’ve been working on the last couple of weeks.”

“That was the Steve you’re always talking about?” Rosie asked, joining her cousin.

“I’m afraid so.” Cassie couldn’t keep from staring out the salon window, as if she expected Steve to come back so they could finish their conversation.

“You never mentioned how good-looking he is.”

“Steve?” Cassie said, downplaying her reaction to him. When they’d first met she thought he was plenty easy on the eyes, but he’d been so unpleasant to her since then that it’d sort of slipped her notice. Until that moment at the shampoo station. A moment she preferred to ignore.

Teresa simply shook her head. “Cassie …”

“I know … I know. I should have kept my opinions to myself. He felt obliged to give me advice and I was only returning the favor.”

A half hour later Cassie felt dreadful. She should never have
said the things she did to Steve. It was difficult enough working with him, and by letting her mouth get ahead of her brain, she’d managed to complicate their differences in what was already a problematic relationship. The worst part was the fact that she was scheduled to work with him Friday afternoon.

Later that evening, Cassie started dinner while Amiee sat at the kitchen table, poring over her homework.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?” Cassie responded halfheartedly.

“What’s wrong?” Amiee said, looking up from her textbook and tucking her chin between her hands.

“What makes you think anything is wrong?” Cassie asked, doing her best to sound like that was the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Well, for one thing, you cooked me poached eggs for breakfast every day this week.”

“So?” She wanted her daughter to start the day with protein, and Amiee had complained endlessly about the cereal she’d bought on sale.

“You hate the smell of poached eggs. You only cook them when you’re looking to punish yourself.”

“I do?” Cassie had no idea.

“I know you’re upset about losing the catering job.”

Amiee couldn’t possibly fully understand the ramifications of that.

“Then tonight you have this down-and-out look,” Aimee said. “What’s the problem?”

That her daughter could so easily read her moods was a revelation to Cassie. “I was unkind to someone today and I said some things I regret now.”

“Hmm.” Her daughter’s look went grave. “You know what
you told me about unkind words. You said it was like squeezing out a tube of toothpaste and then trying to put it all back inside. Once the words are out there, they tend to stay, so think before you speak.”

“I said that?” Cassie didn’t remember.

“You say a lot of things, Mom. You might think I don’t hear you, but you’re wrong. I even write some of the stuff you say down in my journal.”

This was just shy of astonishing to Cassie.

“I do it because I don’t want to forget. You’ve forgotten a lot of the things your mother said, and I don’t want to do that, so I write it down.”

That was true, Cassie had forgotten a lot of what her parents had told her while growing up. “Who made you so smart?” she asked her daughter, giving her a big hug.

Amiee broke into a huge smile. “I don’t know, but I think I got it from my mother.”

“I’m feeling doubtful about that, after today.”

“You know what you have to do, don’t you?”

Cassie did know, but it wasn’t going to be easy to apologize to Steve. Knowing him, he was bound to make it difficult.

Friday afternoon, Cassie quickly changed her clothes and went directly from the salon to the job site. Shelly and George were already there. Cassie parked behind her friends.

“Where’s Steve?” she asked first thing, eager to get this over with as quickly as possible.

George answered her. “He texted to say he’ll be a few minutes late.”

Cassie did her best to relax and pretend nothing was amiss. For just a half second she feared that Steve had stayed away on purpose in an effort to avoid her. Maybe he didn’t intend to show
up at all. It didn’t take long for her to realize that wouldn’t be his way. He was far too pragmatic for that.

She was nervous waiting for him. If Shelly noticed, she didn’t say anything. About five minutes later Steve’s truck rounded the corner. Cassie’s stomach was in knots. She hadn’t slept well, mulling over how best to approach this.

By the time he parked, Cassie was waiting for him at the curb. She tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and waited.

Steve glared at her as he climbed out of the truck and closed the door. A resounding thud echoed, causing her to retreat a step.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” she asked, as he stepped around his vehicle.

He didn’t answer, but she chose to take his silence as a positive.

“I want to apologize for the things I said. Generally, I’m able to keep my thoughts to myself. I shouldn’t have offered you my unwanted and unsolicited advice. And it was totally inappropriate of me to talk about your wife in that way.”

He nodded, indicating he accepted her apology. She offered him a short, tentative smile.

“I suppose you’re looking for me to apologize as well.”

“No,” she assured him. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

“You sure about that?” Clearly, he was skeptical.

“Positive.”

He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “Best haircut I’ve had in years.”

“My biggest tip ever,” she returned.

He smiled.

Cassie couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen Steve smile, and it had an amazing effect on her. In those brief seconds Cassie saw what Rosie had seen. This was a virile, lean, red-blooded man
with the capability to make women’s hearts stop. To be truthful, her own heart skipped a beat and it shocked her.

“Now that this is settled I better get to work.” She was glad she’d apologized and was equally glad for an excuse to escape.

She was about ten feet away when he stopped her.

“Cassie.”

She turned back around. “Yes?”

“Megan phoned me this afternoon to let me know you’ve put aside your doubts and are going to stick with the program.”

She smiled and nodded. “Someone, who shall remain nameless, offered me a good piece of advice.”

He grinned again. “I’m happy you took it to heart.”

“Me, too. It was the right decision.”

“Okay, now, time to pick up that paintbrush and put in a few hours of sweat equity.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted him like a boot-camp private, but there was far more respect in that gesture than sarcasm. To her delight, Steve saluted her back.

“Who was that on the phone?” Garth asked, sitting up in bed and reading from his tablet.

Karen closed their bedroom door, her mind and heart troubled. “My sister.”

“Problems with Nichole?” Garth set his e-reader on the bedside table and lifted the covers for Karen.

“It was actually Cassie,” Karen explained, and slipped into the bed next to him. She scooted close to her husband, and Garth placed his arm around her shoulders, warming her with more than his closeness.

“What did she want this time?” he asked skeptically.

“Nothing. She’s only asked for financial help that one time when we just weren’t able to do it.”

“I don’t know why you insist on feeling guilty about that. If you’d given her the money it would never have ended. Every time something came up she’d come running to you to bail her out financially. I know it was hard to turn her down, but you did the right thing.”

“It’s more than that …” Garth didn’t know about their last terrible fight just before she’d run away from home.

“Karen,” her husband said, cutting her off. “You don’t need to make up excuses with me.”

“I’m not. I did what was necessary. Cassie had to know she couldn’t just waltz back into our lives as if nothing had happened. We were dealing with Dad’s death and I wasn’t about to take on her problems, too.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, sweetheart. Like I said, you did the right thing.”

“I have to wonder,” she murmured, her brow furrowed with consternation.

“Karen …”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t do any good to rehash this over and over. What’s done is done. When I spoke to Nichole about the inheritance, she was adamant we did everything we should have. Cassie wasn’t mentioned in the will and we have no obligation to give her a penny from the sale of the house.”

“It isn’t the legality of the matter that concerns you, it’s the moral issue. You want to be fair.”

Her husband read between the lines easily enough.

“Yes.” Garth always seemed to understand her best. It was as if he knew her thoughts, which were often convoluted and conflicting when it came to dealings with Cassie.

“You offered her the furniture and she was happy with that.”

Happy didn’t begin to describe Cassie’s reaction. She’d been overwhelmed with gratitude, pleased and excited. The fact that her sister had been so grateful and appreciative of this offhanded, nearly meaningless gesture had given Karen second thoughts. The decision she’d made with Nichole didn’t rest easy with her and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Karen placed a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn.

“Any particular reason Cassie called?” Garth asked.

“Yes. She needed to know for exactly how long the storage fees had been paid. I asked her when she’d be collecting Mom
and Dad’s things, but she couldn’t give me an answer. She said she’d get them as soon as she could make the arrangements.” In thinking about the call, Cassie had been vague about how and when she intended to make the trip across the state. “I told her we could give her a bit of extra time if she needed it.”

“Karen, I thought we agreed. Two months and that was it.”

“An extra month isn’t going to break the bank, Garth.” Karen was surprised that her husband would make a fuss over this. “Besides, by the time I reached out to her she didn’t have the full two months to make arrangements. I want Cassie to have something to remember our parents by.”

Her husband kissed the top of her head. “You’re much too kind.”

“She is my sister,” she reminded him.

“The sister you barely know.”

That was true. Karen didn’t know Cassie any longer. Although they had shared a childhood, their relationship had come to an abrupt halt the year Cassie turned eighteen. It shocked her to think she hadn’t seen Cassie since she ran off and married Duke.

Garth reached over and turned out his bedside lamp. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”

Karen didn’t need the reminder. Her days were crammed full. In the mornings she left the house like a racehorse in the Kentucky Derby. Weekends weren’t much better. It was after eleven already, and she had volunteered to accompany Lily’s Girl Scout troop on a field trip to the Spokane Airport in the morning. She hoped it would take only two or three hours, tops.

Garth was scheduled to take Buddy to his baseball game, and if they were able to coordinate their schedules, then they would meet up for lunch at their favorite pizza place. In the afternoon, Karen needed to help Lily sell her quota of Girl Scout cookies. They’d gotten permission to set up a table outside the Albertsons’ grocery store.

The cookie sale would well take an additional two hours out of her day, and she had yet to get the laundry going or some basic housecleaning chores. And she had no idea what she’d make for dinner.

Although the lights were off and her husband was asleep and softly snoring, Karen’s mind continued to whirl like the blades of a helicopter ready to take off from the launch pad. Sunday was no better. She had yet to prepare for teaching the fifth- and sixth-grade Sunday school class, and afterward Garth’s sister had invited them to dinner and Karen was supposed to bring the dessert. She didn’t know when she was going to find time to squeeze baking a cake in. And on Monday there was an employee meeting before the office officially opened at eight, which meant …

“Mom …” Buddy’s shout woke Karen from a sound sleep. She bolted upright and glanced at the digital readout on the bedside clock. It was barely past four.

Tossing aside the covers, Karen tucked her feet into her slippers and went to investigate. Her son was in the hallway outside his room.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, struggling to hold back a yawn.