“You think you’re so special because you can play the piano.”
“You think you’re better than anyone else because you got your driver’s permit,” Cassie flashed back.
And so it had gone on, until it became a shouting match. Eventually their father had stepped in and separated them. Even then, as teenagers, their relationship was strained. From those dreamy summer evenings as children playing in the park it had all seemed to go downhill. It hadn’t gotten any better in the intervening years, either. But that angry exchange of words didn’t compare to the final one just before Cassie ran away from home.
“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.
Chapter 3
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.