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Authors: Debbie Macomber

Last One Home (35 page)

BOOK: Last One Home
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Both were silent, aghast.

“I don’t understand,” Nichole continued. “If Duke was so cruel, why didn’t you leave him?”

This was a question Cassie had asked herself a million times. She gave Nichole the same answer she gave everyone. Getting away from Duke wasn’t as simple as it sounded. “The thing is, walking away from an abusive situation is hard. Harder than anyone realizes.”

“I don’t mean to criticize you,” Nichole said. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Dad missed you something terrible,” Karen said, taking hold of Cassie’s hand.

“And I missed him and Mom and both of you so much. I don’t think you’ll ever know how I longed for my family.” Tears filled
Cassie’s eyes again and she valiantly tried to blink them away. It was the memory of her parents and sisters that helped her through those lonely years; the belief that one day they would all be reunited.

Amiee returned to the doorway. “Mom talked about you all the time. I know just about everything there is to know about both of you. Aunt Karen, when can I meet my cousins? I’m the oldest, you know, and I want to meet Lily. Does she wear makeup yet? Mom won’t let me until I’m thirteen. She said that was because that was how long her mother made her wait.”

“Lily will love meeting you.”

“Can I see her sometime this summer?”

“You bet.”

“We’ll arrange a time later,” Cassie promised.

“Did you know Mom is no longer dating Steve?” Amiee said.

Karen’s eyes connected with Cassie’s. “I thought I heard something about that earlier. Are you okay?” The question was directed at Cassie.

“We miss him,” Amiee answered for her. “Mom doesn’t talk about it much, but I know she does.”

Owen stirred awake and right away Nichole was on her feet. “He’s going to need a diaper change.”

“Can I help?” Amiee asked, hurrying back into her bedroom.

Karen took hold of Cassie’s hand. “I’m sorry about Steve.”

Cassie nodded. “Me, too, but I’m not ready for a serious relationship.”

“I can understand your hesitation. Relationships are hard. Marriage, too.” Karen lowered her head.

Cassie hesitated before gently squeezing her sister’s hand. “Is everything all right between you and Garth?”

Karen nodded. “For the most part. Garth lost his job about three months ago … he was afraid to tell me and so he took money from our retirement account. It’s like we have to start all
over again. My husband has hit bottom and frankly so have I. We’re in a tight place financially, but … but that doesn’t concern me nearly as much as seeing Garth in this kind of emotional anguish. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Cassie wrapped her arms around her sister. “I know what it is to hit bottom and to have to start over with nothing. The thing is that there’s only one direction left to go and that’s up.”

“He’s out every day job-hunting and comes home discouraged and deeply depressed. There’s nothing available in his field, and I mean nothing.”

“Is there anything else he’d like to do?” Cassie asked.

“I … I don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask him.”

“I had no job skills when I left Duke, but I’d always enjoyed working with hair. I decided to learn to be a stylist.”

“Garth enjoys golf, or at least he used to, but now it’s too expensive.” She hesitated. “He does a lot of crossword puzzles and works sudoku. From what I can figure that’s how he spends most of his days. To be fair, he does almost all of the household chores now and the cooking, but I can’t see him opening up a housecleaning service.”

“Talk to him. You might be surprised.”

“I will. We both need to look at options. At this point he’s butting his head against a wall. I feel like such an idiot. I should have known something was wrong, but like a fool I ignored what my instincts were telling me.”

“It will get better, Karen, trust me. I’ve been at this same point myself. God will make a way where there is no way. He did in my life, and He will with you, too.”

Her sister smiled and her eyes revealed the light of hope.

Nichole returned with baby Owen on her hip. The baby leaned his head against his mother’s shoulder.

“He wouldn’t come to me,” Amiee said in a dejected tone. “I
held out my arms and he turned his head away and refused to look at me.”

“He will once he gets to know you better,” Nichole promised her.

Amiee, however, wasn’t about to let it go at that. “I’m your cousin, Owen, and one day maybe your mother will let me babysit you.”

Nichole laughed. “I think that could be arranged.”

They sat down and ate their cake and talked nonstop for nearly two hours. By the time her sisters left, Cassie was exhilarated and overwhelmed, giddy with happiness. Their visit had gone even better than she’d hoped.

“I like my aunts,” Amiee said, as they stood on the sidewalk and watched Karen and Nichole drive away. “They’re exactly as I pictured them.”

“They really haven’t changed that much.”

“You have,” Amiee insisted.

Karen had brought along the family photo albums their mother had kept, and they’d laughed their way through most of the pictures.

“Do you have pictures of me as a baby?” Amiee asked.

“Very few.” It did no good to remind her daughter there hadn’t been money for frivolities such as cameras and film when Duke needed beer and drugs. She didn’t mention that whatever photos she’d managed to get had been left behind.

“It’s good to have family, isn’t it?” Amiee asked, wrapping her arm around Cassie’s waist.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. Steve came to mind then, and she wondered where his family was and if he was close to his parents. They hadn’t talked about so many things. The thing was, even so, he was never far from her thoughts.

Chapter 32

After waiting impatiently for two months to hear from Cassie, Steve had given up hope of hearing from her. The next move had to be from her. He’d never meant to pressure her and now it seemed there was no going back and correcting his mistake. For the first couple weeks, he’d been calm and cool about it, but when she didn’t reach out the way he’d hoped he grew irritable. For the last six weeks he’d been angry at the world. It’d gotten to the point that even his best friend had taken to avoiding him.

“I don’t know what your problem is,” Stan snapped at him late one Friday afternoon, “but whatever it is, fix it.” And with that Stan stalked away.

It didn’t help matters that Britt had become a constant thorn in his side. He couldn’t make her understand that no matter how fond he was of her son, he wasn’t interested in dating her.

Steve had lost count of the number of times he had to stop himself from contacting Cassie. He would have in less time it took to breathe if she hadn’t made it abundantly clear that she had to be the one to seek him out. The next move had to come from her and thus far it didn’t look like she was inclined to make one.

He made a point of checking on her through Stan and Megan at the Habitat office. Her house was coming along ahead of schedule. From what Stan said, Cassie was working every spare minute on the project. Her furniture was stored in his warehouse and would remain there until she was ready to collect it. He’d sent word via Stan that he’d hold on to it until needed. He hoped for a personal reply. None came.

As the weeks progressed, his mood darkened. He was back to visiting Alicia more often now, talking out his troubles while standing over her grave site. Now sitting in his pickup at the cemetery, Steve mulled over his conversation with Stan. If he had a clue on how to fix this thing with Cassie, he would have done it two months ago. As it was, they were at a complete standstill.

Climbing out of his truck, Steve walked over to his wife’s grave site. It eased his mind to talk to Alicia, which was sort of absurd, seeing that she couldn’t respond. Still, it’d become a habit.

In the months following her death, he’d been to the cemetery nearly every day. He’d stop by three or four times a week on his way to or from work and then on weekends. As time progressed he’d come less frequently. Alicia would have understood, and he was fairly certain she’d approve of the way he spent his time these days, working with Habitat.

He felt responsible for looking after the grave site, bringing her flowers. Alicia’s family all lived on the East Coast and he was the only one to keep her grave tended.

When he arrived at the grave site, to his surprise, he saw that someone had left a bouquet of flowers. They looked like they were a couple of days old. Steve couldn’t imagine who would have brought them. He would probably never know. He removed the older bouquet and replaced it with the fresh one.

“It’s been awhile,” he whispered, straightening, and then felt he should make an effort to explain. “I meant to come sooner.”

He bent over and brushed away grass clippings. He’d had Alicia’s picture placed on her gravestone as a reminder that she’d been beautiful and far too young to have lost her life. Seeing her photo smiling back at him made talking to her feel less strange.

“Stan said I needed to fix what was wrong. I wish I could, but I can’t do anything about Cassie,” he said. “It was her choice. I was in the wrong and apologized, but that wasn’t enough.” What frustrated him most was that at one point she’d actually compared him to her ex-husband, as if Steve was some kind of lowlife. It tightened his jaw every time he thought about what she’d said. “If she can’t tell the difference between a man like me and a man like Duke, I’m better off without her,” he said, talking out loud again.

His shoulders sagged. He’d been telling himself that repeatedly, not that he was anywhere close to believing it.

Steve knew he’d been walking around like an injured bear for nearly two months. He had to fix this. Looking down at his wife’s grave marker, he released a sigh.

He waited for a moment while he mulled over his dilemma.

“Do I love her?” he asked himself.

“I think so,” he said, answering his own question. “My gut’s been in a perpetual knot ever since we split.”

He walked a complete circle around the grave site.

He stopped and abruptly rammed his fingers through his hair.

Finally, he headed back to his truck. He’d brought the old wilting floral bouquet and tossed it into the flatbed to discard at home. As he did, a card fell out. Steve reached down and took hold of it—it was printed with the name of the grocery store where the flowers had been bought.

A store in Kent.

The store that was only a couple blocks from Cassie and Amiee’s apartment. The same store where she routinely shopped.

Steve mulled it over and then shook his head. It wasn’t possible
that Cassie had brought the flowers. For one thing, she would have no way of knowing where Alicia was buried unless …

He grabbed his cell and hit the button that would connect him to Stan. His friend answered on the second ring.

“Steve?”

“Question,” he said

“You gonna bite my head off if you don’t like the answer?” his buddy asked.

“No.”

“Good thing, because otherwise I wouldn’t be inclined to answer.”

Despite himself, Steve smiled. “Did Cassie happen to ask you where Alicia was buried?”

Stan hesitated. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I found flowers at Alicia’s grave site and I wasn’t the one who put them there.”

“Was Cassie’s name on a card or something?”

Stan was avoiding the question, which was an answer in and of itself. “Nothing with her name on it. It was the name of the grocery store near her apartment. Seems to me they could only have come from her.”

“A lot of people shop at that same grocery store, you know.”

“I’m sure they do,” Steve concurred. As far as he was concerned he had his answer. “Thanks for your help.”

For the first time in two months, the knot in Steve’s stomach loosened. He started up his truck and headed out of the cemetery. He’d come, feeling low and blue, seeking Alicia’s advice and expecting nothing. And yet his wife had given him the very answer he needed.

He heard himself whistling when his cell chirped. Glancing at his phone, caller ID told him it was Britt. He let the call go to voice mail as he headed to the construction site, knowing Cassie was probably there working off the last of her equity hours.

Arriving at the site, Steve was surprised by how far along the house was. The frame and roof were all up. Stan was busy supervising but stepped toward the curb when he saw Steve drive up.

“You looking for Cassie?” Stan asked.

“How’d you guess?” Steve propped his elbow in the open window.

“She isn’t here.”

Steve frowned. “You’re not hiding her from me, are you?”

His friend grinned. “No. I’d know better than to do anything that stupid.”

“Then where is she?”

“Do I look like her keeper?” Stan demanded.

Thwarted, Steve realized now probably wasn’t the best time to seek Cassie out anyway. He’d give it time, he decided, wait a day or two even, mull over how best to approach her. This was a delicate matter and he shouldn’t act on impulse.

Instead of searching out Cassie, Steve drove to his office, where his desk was stacked high with paperwork that needed to be processed. His cell rang again and once more it was Britt.

BOOK: Last One Home
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