Last One Home (4 page)

“Mom?” Amiee’s voice broke into Cassie’s musings. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Cassie said, returning to her dinner, taking another bite and chewing it with gusto.

Perhaps if their mother had lived, the relationships among Cassie and her sisters might have smoothed themselves out. Sadly, shortly after their father died, her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. She’d smoked for as long as Cassie could remember, knowing the health risks and ignoring them. While Cassie was in cosmetology school in Florida, Karen had contacted her to let her know their mother was seriously ill. For a while Karen sent tersely written updates on their mother’s treatments and condition. Cassie mailed encouraging notes and received two or three short letters from her mother. The chemotherapy and radiation treatments had completely drained Sandra of strength.

Cassie wanted to call their mother, but Karen had let it be known that hearing from her at this point would be more upsetting than comforting. Cassie wasn’t sure what she could say, anyway. Duke was in jail. He’d tried to kill her and she’d barely escaped with her life. It wasn’t the conversation her mother needed to hear.

And then time had run out. Her mom had died and she’d been unable to afford to come to the funeral. She’d been living hand to mouth then—and still was, mostly.

Amiee scooted her chair back and handed Cassie the phone. “Call your sister.”

Cassie reluctantly reached for the phone, dragged out the letter, and typed in the number listed at the bottom of the page.

A young girl answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Is this Lily?” Cassie asked, forcing a cheerful note into her voice. She knew very little about her sister’s life, but she did know Karen and Garth had two children, and that Lily was the oldest and their son, a couple of years younger, was named after his father and called Buddy.

“Yes.” The ten-year-old sounded skeptical.

“This is your aunt. My name is Cassie.”

“I don’t have an Aunt Cassie.”

Hearing that didn’t come as any big surprise. Apparently, Karen hadn’t bothered to mention she had
two
sisters.

“Lily, who’s on the phone?” Cassie heard someone call in the background. It sounded like her sister.

“Someone who says she’s related to us.”

Not more than a few seconds later Cassie’s oldest sister took the phone away from her daughter. “Cassie?”

“Hi.” She kept her voice even, not wanting Amiee to know how difficult this conversation was sure to be. Amiee stood next to her, listening anxiously. “I got your letter,” Cassie continued.

“You phoned.” Karen sounded like she was talking to one of her clients, brisk and businesslike.

“Yes … you asked me to and wrote down your number.”

“Tell her you have a cell now,” Amiee instructed. “Give her your number so she can call anytime she wants.”

Cassie waved her off.

“How are you?” Karen asked with stiff politeness.

“Good. Amiee and I are doing well.” Her answer was equally stiff.

“The divorce is final?”

Cassie exhaled in order to keep her cool. “Yes, it was final over four and a half years ago now.” She didn’t want to have to cover ground that she’d already traveled. “Your letter suggested you had something for me.”

“I do. It’s been almost eighteen months now since Mom died.”

A lump filled Cassie’s throat. Both of her parents had died before they’d ever met their oldest grandchild.

“The house finally sold,” Karen went on to say.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be more of a help.” Cassie did feel bad that the burden of looking after their parents and the estate had fallen heavily upon her two sisters.

“I didn’t have any choice, did I? When Dad died so unexpectedly, he hadn’t done anything about setting up estate planning. I did what I could to help Mom, but she was in no kind of emotional shape to make important decisions, and then she went so quickly. I don’t mind telling you the last few years have been rough.”

They’d been rough for Cassie and Amiee, too.

“Anyway, the reason I wrote is to let you know that I’ve placed some pieces of Mom and Dad’s furniture in storage. Nichole and I decided you can take what you want. We both took everything we wanted—what you don’t take will go to charity.”

Cassie was speechless. Unexpected tears welled in her eyes. “You’re willing to let me have some of their things?” She choked out the question, hardly able to believe Karen would offer her any part of what had once belonged to their parents.

“Yes. There isn’t anything left that interests us.”

“Mom’s dining room set?” Some of Cassie’s fondest memories were sitting around that table for holidays when her mother brought out the good china and the family used real linen napkins.

“Yes, it’s there. It’s pretty worn, and a couple chairs are broken.”

Cassie didn’t dare ask about the piano. That would be long gone, possibly sold after she left with Duke.

“Thank you.” Cassie struggled to hide the fact she was choking back tears.

When she spoke again her sister’s voice softened slightly. “Nichole and I have husbands and homes.”

Cassie recognized the dig. Her sisters were far better off than
she was, and she was a charity case. But she didn’t care what they thought of her. The tears blurred her eyes. Amiee hurried into the bathroom and returned with a wad of toilet tissue. “I don’t know what to say,” Cassie said, her voice breaking up. “I’m overwhelmed and so very grateful.”

“Yes, well …” It appeared Karen hardly knew what to say herself.

Cassie grabbed the tissue from her daughter and dabbed at her eyes.

“Now,” Karen said, her tone stiff once more, “when can you come collect the furniture?”

Cassie’s shoulders sagged. “I … I don’t know.” She had no way of getting to Spokane—not with her Honda—and she didn’t know anyone who owned a truck.

“I’ve paid for two months’ rent in advance, but I really can’t continue paying these fees indefinitely, Cassie.”

“Of course not. I’ll find a way to come pick it up.” She’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.

“Good. Let me know when you’re available, but make sure you give me plenty of advance warning. Buddy’s on a softball team this spring and Lily is taking clarinet and dance classes. Frankly, I don’t have a lot of weekends free.”

“I’ll give you as much advance notice as I can.” Her heart raced with excitement. “Thank you.”

“Yes … sorry to cut this short, but I need to get dinner on the table.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Cassie promised, and disconnected.

Amiee looked up at her expectantly.

Cassie hugged her daughter close. “We have furniture, Amiee, my parents’ furniture.” Grabbing hold of her daughter’s hands, she did a little jig right there in their tiny kitchen.

This was the best news Cassie had gotten since she’d heard Duke Carter pronounced guilty.

Karen Goodwin wasn’t sure what to think about the conversation with her sister. She hadn’t had an email address or a home address and had taken a chance mailing it to Cassie’s place of employment, the last address she had.

It’d been awkward, each of them feeling their way, she supposed. Frankly, Karen preferred that they keep their distance. Cassie was troubled and needy, and both Karen and Nichole had their own lives and families to worry about. They didn’t want to take on Cassie’s problems, too. Still, she was blood, and she deserved some family mementos. It was up to Cassie to collect them within sixty days. It would be unreasonable and unfair for Karen to continue to pay storage fees until it was
convenient
for Cassie to come to Spokane. Busy as she was, Karen had enough on her mind, including dinner that evening.

“Lily,” she called over her shoulder from the kitchen, as she hurried to finish their dinner preparation. “Do you have any homework?”

“A little.”

“Then do it.”

Lily sighed expressively. “I thought you wanted me to set the table.”

“I do. Then start your homework.”

Lily approached the silverware drawer. “How come I have to do it now? Why can’t I wait to do my homework until after dinner?”

“Because I have a PTA meeting tonight and if you need help I won’t be here.”

“Dad can help me,” Lily argued.

“I’d rather you finish it now.” Garth was way too lax with their children. From the beginning, Karen had been forced into the role of the disciplinarian. Her husband worked as a consultant for an engineering firm and at the end of a workday he was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Asking him to do anything beyond changing channels on the television was a strain on his mental capacity.

Lily obediently laid out the silverware at the table. Karen inspected it to be sure her daughter had placed each utensil in the proper position. Little things like that were important to her. In far too many families, etiquette and manners had gone by the wayside. Not in her home, though. Karen made sure her children sat up straight at the dinner table and never talked with food in their mouths. Nothing, absolutely nothing, irritated her more than bad manners.

Lily reluctantly sat down at the kitchen counter with her homework. Karen finished stirring the sour cream into the stroganoff, one of Garth’s favorite dinners. She glanced at Lily and noticed her daughter was involved in writing out her spelling words for the week. Lily had her cell phone by her side and looked up each word on the dictionary app Karen had installed for her. She wondered if other parents had thought to do this. It certainly made Lily’s assignment easier. Lily’s last report card had
earned her a cell phone. Buddy wasn’t responsible enough for his own phone just yet. Their youngest often misplaced his belongings.

The door off the garage opened and Garth walked in. As he did every night, he placed his keys on the peg just inside the kitchen door, kissed Karen’s cheek on his way into the family room, and immediately picked up the remote and turned on the evening news.

“Where’s Buddy?” Karen asked, looking up from the stove.

“You mean he isn’t home?” Garth asked, surprise showing on his face, his eyebrows raised.

“No, he’s at baseball practice,” Karen reminded him, and then grinned, remembering the date. “Is this an April Fools’ joke?”

“Is today the first?”

“Garth, be serious. Where’s Buddy?”

Her husband rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Was I supposed to pick him up?”

He was serious, and this was no joke. “Yes, sweetheart. I reminded you this morning, don’t you remember?”

“Apparently not,” he muttered, and did a quick reversal, grabbing his car keys on the way into the garage.

Karen followed him and stood in the doorway as he climbed into the SUV. “How could you forget your son?” she demanded.

He ignored the question. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Her husband’s forgetfulness played havoc on Karen’s schedule. As much as possible she felt it was important for all of them to eat dinner together. It bothered her that too many important rituals in family life had disintegrated over the years. With busy schedules—sports, music, Scouts, church functions—it would be far too easy to do as several of her friends did and simply leave dinner on the stove. She knew for a lot of families, dinner was eaten in fits and starts, dished up whenever individual family members were available. By not sharing the everyday details of
life, something important was lost. Karen didn’t want to see that happen with her children and Garth. It had been ingrained in her from her own childhood—her parents had insisted they eat together as a family every night.

Putting the stroganoff on simmer, Karen collected her notes for the PTA meeting. As the secretary, she needed to have the minutes from the previous meeting prepared and printed. Thankfully, she’d seen to that the night before and the necessary paperwork was neatly tucked in her briefcase.

The noodles were already boiled and rather than let them get soggy, she drained off the liquid and combined them with the creamy mixture. The salad was in a bowl in the refrigerator and the frozen peas were in the microwave, already zapped.

Because Garth had forgotten to pick up Buddy, Karen wouldn’t be able to join the family for dinner. It exasperated her that her husband could be so irresponsible as to forget their son. She hated the thought of Buddy waiting at the baseball field because his father had forgotten to come for him.

“Mom.” Lily looked up from where she sat at the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know we had another aunt.”

Karen should have realized there would be questions. “Her name is Cassie.”

“How come you never talked about her before now?” Lily asked, chewing on the end of her pen.

Karen removed the pen from her daughter’s mouth. It was a disgusting habit, and Lily knew she didn’t like it. “Well, because …” She tried to think of how best to explain this situation. “Cassie ran away from home when she was eighteen.”

Even now, after all these years, Karen remembered the shock of waking that morning and finding their sister gone. Cassie had left a note on her pillow saying she was marrying Duke, a man her parents were dead set against. She’d gone against their wishes, brought untold grief into their family, and made the biggest mistake
of her life. Their family was never the same afterward. Worse, there’d been no contact from Cassie for years.