Last One Home
Page 33It took her a moment to realize Karen was just as tentative and just as unsure as Cassie was. Steve had said as much, but she’d discounted his words, convinced he was wrong. Karen was the one who had her life together; she was married to a great husband and financially secure, with two terrific children. From the time Karen was young, she’d done everything right: graduated from college, been a good daughter. She’d been the one who had taken care of their parents when they were ill and had even been the executor of their estate.
“Cassie?”
Once more Steve broke into her thoughts. She turned back to look at him and saw the question in his eyes.
“What would you like me to do?”
The shaking hadn’t subsided. “Stay close to me, okay?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Please,” she whispered, finding it difficult to speak. It demanded more courage than she knew she possessed to open the passenger door. It was up there with leaving Duke, with nothing but her daughter and the clothes on their backs.
Steve hopped out of the truck cab and came around, offering Cassie his hand.
The gesture surprised her until she realized she’d been sitting frozen in the truck with the door open. Cassie stared at his hand for a long time before she placed her own in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze as if to remind her she was stronger than she realized. At the moment, that fact was in serious question. Once she stepped out of the truck, she feared her knees wouldn’t support her.
“Cassie.” Karen stepped down from the small porch and slowly approached her.
“Hello, Karen.”
They stood about three feet apart.
“You’ve changed,” Cassie whispered, as if surprised her sister was no longer twenty. She’d matured into a woman.
Cassie smiled and nodded. True to his word, Steve remained close to her side.
“I barely recognized you. If I’d seen you on the street I might have walked right past.”
Cassie had to wonder if the years had changed her that much. “It’s me,” she whispered, having a hard time getting the words past the tightness that gripped her throat.
“You look …”
“Different,” she supplied. And she was. The girl who’d fled in the middle of the night shared little with the woman Cassie was now. And those differences were much deeper than what showed on the surface.
“You look great.” Karen was beautiful. Her thick, dark hair was cut short, and it set off her cheekbones. Nichole was the dirty blonde of the family, and even when she was in her pre-teens, she’d pleaded to bleach it.
For the first time, Karen tore her gaze away from Cassie and looked at Steve.
Cassie realized Karen was waiting for an introduction. “Steve Brody, this is my sister, Karen.”
Karen broke eye contact with Cassie long enough to shake Steve’s hand. “Thank you for driving my sister home.”
Home.
The word echoed in Cassie’s mind. Spokane had been her home at one time, but that had been a lifetime ago. She’d left as an innocent teenager, convinced she was doing the right thing by marrying the father of her baby. How incredibly naïve she’d been.
“Come in,” Karen said, as if suddenly remembering her manners. She led the way into the house. Garth stood just inside the front door, watching and waiting. He introduced himself to Steve and the two men exchanged hearty handshakes.
“You fixed lunch for us?” Cassie looked to Steve and offered him an apologetic smile. It was well past one o’clock and she hadn’t given a single thought to lunch. He must be half starved by now, and yet he hadn’t said a word. Nervous as she was, embroiled in dread and fear, she hadn’t once considered that he might be hungry.
“Actually,” Garth explained, “I’ve got the barbecue going and I thought we’d rustle up a few hamburgers.”
Steve nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds fantastic. Need any help?”
“Sure.” Garth headed through the kitchen and toward the sliding glass door that led to the backyard.
Cassie’s gaze was drawn to the photographs on the fireplace mantel. The picture of Lily must be recent—it showed a young girl in braces, doing her best to smile with her mouth full of wires. Buddy had bright freckles floating across the bridge of his nose. Of the two children, Buddy resembled his father’s side of the family. Cassie knew how excited her father must have been to finally have a boy, a grandson. She imagined that Buddy and his grandpa had been tight.
“I’m sorry the kids aren’t here to meet you,” Karen said. Then she added, as if she felt she needed an excuse, “Lily’s with the church group, doing volunteer work at a low-income housing project, and Buddy’s attending a Boy Scout function with his troop. The kids are constantly on the run. Was it like this when we were young?” Karen asked.
“I doubt it,” Cassie said, thinking of those long hours running around the neighborhood.
“Me, too. You had piano lessons, and otherwise we were free-range kids and that was about it.” Then she added, “Do you still play piano?”
The question was almost worthy of a laugh. “No.” A piano was well beyond her means. At one time Cassie had loved playing for her father when he got off work. He’d said hearing her play the old church hymns helped him relax. Cassie half suspected it’d been a lie meant to encourage her to practice, but she’d enjoyed those special times with her dad.
“We saved the piano for you,” Karen commented, as she led the way into the kitchen.
“You saved it for me?” Cassie could barely believe what her sister was saying.
“Well, yes. You were the only one who played. The music gene completely skipped over Nichole and me. The piano is in the storage unit with the rest of the furniture. Unfortunately, it will probably need to be tuned—”
“Cassie?” Karen gave her an odd look. “Is that okay? I thought you’d probably want the piano.”
“Yes, yes,” she rushed to tell her sister. “I just didn’t expect that you’d keep it …”
“Of course we would.”
In an effort to cover the intensity of her reaction, Cassie asked, “What else is in the storage unit?”
Karen took a plate of sliced tomatoes, onions, and dill pickles out of the refrigerator and set it on the kitchen countertop. “It’s been months since we cleared out the house and I really don’t remember all that’s in there. There’s the sofa and matching chair, but those are relatively new, so you won’t recognize them. A couple lamps …” She paused as though trying to remember what else was inside the storage unit.
“A bedroom set?” Amiee would be glad of that.
“Yes, but it’s pretty beaten up. I almost gave it away. There’s probably a bunch of stuff that won’t interest you. Take what you want and then Garth and I will haul the rest to Goodwill or Saint Vincent de Paul.”
Cassie nodded, still overwhelmed with the thought that her sisters had saved her the piano.
“I made Mom’s recipe for potato salad,” Karen said, as she took out the hamburger buns from the bread drawer.
Beset by memories, Cassie realized she hadn’t done a thing to help with the meal. “Karen, thank you … really, thank you for everything. Please, tell me what I can do to help with lunch.”
“Okay. You can take these buns out to Garth—he likes to have them grilled. Garth loves to barbecue. Work has been slow for him the last couple weeks and he’s been home early enough to get dinner started. We’ve used the barbecue nearly every day this week.” Karen chattered away.
Cassie wanted to say something, anything to help ease this tension, but was afraid whatever she said would bring up memories best laid to rest. She carried the hamburger buns outside and found Steve and Garth talking as if they’d known each other for years. Garth flipped the burgers and took the buns from Cassie without breaking stride in their conversation.