Their Forever Home

by Syndi Powell

  “Just because I know he’s guilty doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”

  But Cassie couldn’t reconcile those two thoughts. How could that be? She started to walk out, but her mother called after her, “What about tonight’s family dinner?”

  Cassie paused in the doorway. “I’m not hungry.” Then she left the house. Possibly forever.

  * * *

  JOHN TRIED TO take in all the positive changes that had been made to the house.

  With the electrical and plumbing inspections complete, it was time to finish hanging the rest of the drywall. Cassie hired two extra hands to help finish the task. Once the drywall had been hung and other structural work finished, they would have to leave the house for a week so that it could set before they continued with the final stages.

  John had made plans with Cassie to use the time to find the rest of the supplies: paint, tiles, carpet and all the little things that turned a house into a home.

  He stepped out of the way of one of the college students working with the drywall. He checked the garage for her, but she wasn’t there. Tiny gave him an eye up and down before he returned to making marks on the drywall.

  “Have you seen Cassie?”

  “Depends. Why do you want to know?” Tiny asked, making another mark.

  Because he wanted to know if what he was feeling was only one-sided or if she felt the same confusion over what seemed to be developing between. After that kiss. He wanted to ask her if she’d like to be friends outside of their professional relationship. Or more than friends, even. But instead of saying all of that to Tiny, he simply shrugged. “Just curious, I guess.”

  Tiny snickered. “Curious, huh? There are plenty of men curious about our Cassie. What are your intentions?”

  Intentions? John felt as if the collar on his T-shirt had suddenly shrunk and was choking him. “Are you asking what I think you are?”

  “Cassie acts like she’s this tough cookie who can handle anything, but her feelings are as delicate as a cannoli shell. One bite, and she crumbles. Do you see what I’m saying?”

  Maybe Tiny was right. He didn’t need to complicate their professional relationship right now. They had to work together to complete the house and win the contest. Part of him protested that they could do that and pursue something more than friendship, but the rational side of him recognized that it would be prudent to wait. To hold off until later. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

  Tiny gave a harrumph and returned to his task. “She called me last night and said that she wasn’t feeling well, but she hopes to be back tomorrow. Now make yourself useful and hand me that saw over there.”

  John handed him the requested tool. “Do you think you could teach me what you’re doing there?”

  “Measuring drywall? Sure.” He made a pair of cuts, then handed the sheet to the other helper, who would deliver it to Biggie inside. “The trick is to measure once, cut twice.”

  John paused and peered at the man. “Don’t you have that the other way around?”

  “You want me to teach you or not?”

  * * *

  WITH THE DRYWALL COMPLETE, Cassie could see where they were heading. It had been a long day, so she’d sent everyone home but had stayed behind. She needed a moment to herself in this house before they had to leave it for a while to let the mud dry. With the walls complete, they could turn their focus to painting. It was finally all coming together.

  She pulled a metal folding chair into the living room and sat looking out the front window, absently petting Evie who sat at her side. The neighborhood was quiet and calm. With the new security guards on site, they hadn’t had any worries about problems with vandalism or intruders, but she appreciated the dog’s presence all the same.

  Evie whined, and Cassie leaned over to place a kiss on the dog’s forehead. “I know. We’ll go home soon for dinner. Mama just wants to sit for a moment and appreciate the soothing silence.”

  A noise from the kitchen perked up Evie, who gave a soft growl, and Cassie stood. She peered into the darkness and called out, “Show yourself before I sic my attack dog on you.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt your old man, would you?” Her father stepped into the room but stayed back so that he wore the shadows of the room.

  Evie trotted over to him, and he crouched to pet her. “You’ve been taking care of our girl? Protecting her?” Evie’s tail thumped the floor.

  Her father looked different than he had the last time Cassie had seen him. Almost twelve months had taken a toll. He was thinner. Paler. With a hint of sadness around his eyes. Part of her wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him. The other, logical, part made her stay where she was, wondering why he had shown up now. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are we alone?”

  She was sure he knew the answer to that question. “You would’ve been watching the work site to make sure we were.”

  He nodded and stood to his full height. “Cass, I miss you and Andie and your mother.”

  “Then you should come home.”

  “You know what would happen if I did.”

  Yes, she did. But wouldn’t it be better knowing he was in police custody, rather than worrying about where he was? “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see your big project.”

  “There’s a security guard outside.”

  “He’s on a break and will be for...” he checked his watch “...another eleven minutes, so we don’t have much time. Give me the grand tour.”

  She paused for a moment, then approached him, still unsure if she should hug him, although she certainly wanted to. He took the decision out of her hands and pulled her into an embrace. She closed her eyes as he held her tight and placed a kiss above her ear.

  With moist eyes, she led him down the hallway to show him the bathroom. “I installed the copper piping just like you taught me. We’re going to tile in the tub area with glass tiles.”

  “Glass tiles? They cost a lot more than ceramic.”

  “But they’ll make a bigger impact on the overall design.”

  He looked closely at the pipes. “The joints should be further apart to allow more flow. I thought I taught you better.”

  She stepped back from him, upset at his criticism. “I have so much to ask you.”

  “Another time.”

  There couldn’t be another time. As it was, she’d have to call the detective once her father left. They’d probably put more surveillance on her and her family. “I don’t want to believe you did what they say you did, so please tell me. Did you take that money?”

  Her father swallowed and looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t ask me to tell you something you don’t want to know.”

  A crack in her heart seemed to widen, and she put a hand to her chest. “You need to turn yourself in, Daddy. You need to face up to what you did.”

  “I can’t go to prison.”

  She took a step further away from him. “You don’t understand what your abandoning us has done to Mother. She has to sell the business, the house.”

  “Stop.”

  Her father hurried past her. Cassie was close behind him. “Please, Daddy. This is tearing apart our family. Come home.”

  He turned back to look at her. “I have to go.” He headed for the kitchen, and a moment later, she heard the back door close.

  Cassie felt her legs fold, and she sat on the living room floor, staring into the darkness. She let the tears fall down her face for a few minutes before she pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket and dialed her mother’s number.

  Her mother met her at the front door of the family home when she arrived with Evie in tow. Cassie asked, “Did you call the detective?”

  “He’s on his way here.” Her mother stepped back to allow her room to enter. “Put the dog in the kitchen. I’ve got leftover chicken she
can eat if she’s hungry.”

  “She’s always hungry, Mother.”

  They walked into the kitchen, where the cooking scents of dinner still lingered. Her mother pulled out a plastic container from the refrigerator and set it on the counter. “How did he look?”

  Cassie watched her take meat off the bones and place it in a bowl. “Tired. Sad.”

  Her mother nodded and put the bowl on the floor where Evie wolfed down the chicken. When she stood up again and looked at Cassie, she could see the red rims around her mother’s eyes. “He was okay, though.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he misses us, but he can’t come home.”

  Her mother wrapped her arms around her and Cassie felt as if she never wanted to let go. She did, eventually, and her mom led her into the living room. “He calls you. He visits you. And not one word to me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  Her mother turned from the window to look at her. “It’s not your fault that he can’t face me. He knows that I wouldn’t let him sweet-talk me into forgiving him.”

  “He didn’t ask for forgiveness.”

  “Just as well.” She sat on the love seat, her legs crossed at the ankles. “I’d already forgiven him for ignoring me while he pursued bigger and better projects. Convinced each was going to be the one that would make him rich. Famous. Known.”

  “He was providing for us.”

  “Cassandra, I’d rather have had him home with us instead of a fatter savings account.”

  She remembered well the nights and weekends her father would be on a work site rather than with them. Part of the reason she had started going to work with him was to spend time in his presence, even if she was sawing wood or mudding drywall.

  There was a knock on the front door and her mother rose to answer it. She ushered George August into the living room. “Detective, I’m glad you could meet with us here. Can I get you something to drink?”

  Even while being questioned by a detective, her mother never forgot how to be the ultimate hostess. Once the detective had a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, he settled on the sofa while she and her mother squeezed together on the love seat. He took a long sip of lemonade and placed the sweating glass on the coaster her mother had provided. “Thank you, Mrs. Lowman. That reminds me of the lemonade my grandmother used to make.”

  “Can we just get this over with, please?” Cassie didn’t look forward to being grilled, even if she didn’t have much to say. “You know my father came to see me tonight.”

  “Yes, I questioned the security guard that was on duty at the time. He says he didn’t see anything.”

  “My father’s not stupid. He wouldn’t have walked into a trap.”

  Her mother put her hand on Cassie’s. The detective pulled out a notebook and pen. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  Cassie recounted the events of the evening. “I asked him to turn himself in, but he’s afraid.”

  Detective August looked up at her, pausing his writing. “He told you he’s afraid?”

  “No. But I can see what this is doing to him. He’s lost weight, so he’s not eating. And he’s not sleeping, if the bags under his eyes are any indication.” She glanced at her mother. “I tried to tell him about how you’re selling the business and the house, but he couldn’t listen to that. I’m sorry.”

  Her mother patted her hand. “Don’t you apologize for him.”

  Cassie turned back to the detective. “He wouldn’t admit to anything. Even when I asked him to tell me what he’d done.”

  “That’s not surprising,” the detective said. “He never has admitted to anything.”

  At this, her mother narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you questioned my husband before about your suspicion that he was embezzling from his company?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Her mother leaned forward. “What you’re not saying speaks louder than what you are.”

  The detective cleared his throat. “Uh, Cassie. What else can you tell me? Did he say where he’s been hiding?”

  “No.”

  “Did he say he would be in touch again?”

  Her mother looked at her. Cassie shook her head. “No.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That I was wasting money by using glass tiles rather than ceramic. And that I had installed the copper pipes too close together.”

  Her mother briefly smiled, then went to stare out the window. Cassie sighed and held out her hands, pleading. “He wasn’t there more than ten minutes. How much could he say in that time?”

  “You’d be surprised.” The detective took the glass of lemonade and gulped the rest of it down, then stood. “I shouldn’t have to repeat this, but if he contacts either one of you again, you need to let me know immediately.”

  “We understand.” Her mother led him out. “Thank you for coming, Detective.”

  “Thank you for the lemonade.”

  Her mom returned and sat beside Cassie. “Glass tiles?”

  Cassie gave a shrug. “They’re pretty. And they fit with John’s vision.”

  Her mother leaned over and put her hands gently on Cassie’s face. “You’re becoming your own woman, Cassandra.”

  If that was what glass tiles meant, then Cassie would take it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “ANDROMEDA, WHAT ARE you doing here?” Cassie stepped off the ladder and put her paintbrush in the tray. She hadn’t seen her sister since the evening the real estate agent had visited their mom’s place.

  “I can’t stop in to see how things are coming along?” Andie glanced around the living room. “Where’s Evie?”

  “In the backyard chasing squirrels.”

  “Oh, good.”

  Cassie glanced at her sister’s outfit and wondered why her sister would arrive at a construction site in a white linen sundress and two-inch heels. True, she was probably on a break from work, as a receptionist for a doctor’s office, but the house wasn’t exactly clean and spotless. And her dog had a penchant for jumping on Andromeda to reach her face and give doggy kisses.

  “Do you know if we’re out of this white paint for the trim?” John asked from the hallway.

  Andie turned toward him and gave him a long once-over, a smile playing around her lips. So that was the real reason why she had come dressed to impress. “Cassie, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  Cassie gestured at her. “John, this is my older sister, Andromeda. Andromeda, this is John, the designer on the project.”

  John gave a short nod to her and held up the small can of white paint. “So, do we have any more of this or not?”

  “Tiny had some in one of the twins’ rooms.”

  “Thanks.” He looked over at her sister, and Cassie was prepared for him to linger at Andie’s side, but he did the opposite. “Nice to meet you,” he said and disappeared into a bedroom.

  Andie frowned at Cassie. “What was that about? He barely looked at me.”

  Her gorgeous sister was used to men ogling her when they first met her. Cassie doubted Andromeda had ever been ignored by a man before. She didn’t know why John’s reaction gave her an odd thrill, but it did. “He’s too busy painting to stop and admire you.”

  Andie waggled a finger at her. “Whatever. Are you going to show me the rest of the place?”

  Cassie looked her sister over again. “We’re in the middle of painting. Are you sure you want to walk through wearing white?”

  “I visited Daddy before at his work sites without a problem, so I think I’ll be fine.” She stepped up to the replacement kitchen cabinets that were stacked in the living room until Cassie had finished painting. She ran a hand along the surface. “I love the wood on these.”

  “We do, too.” She cocked her head toward the kitchen. “There’s mor
e.” She pointed out the window seat. “Dining over there. I found a cool stained glass chandelier to put above the table.”

  “Stained glass?”

  Cassie had forgotten that her sister’s master’s thesis for art history had been the history of stained glass art in Detroit-area churches. “It’s in a box over here. Come see.”

  Andromeda gave a murmur of appreciation as Cassie lifted the light fixture from its protective wrapping. “Gorgeous work. Probably from the 1920s. Where did you find it?”

  “Architectural salvage warehouse.”

  Andromeda glanced around the room and nodded. “Those yellow walls and the southern light coming in from the window will make the glass gleam like jewels. Good work.”

  “Thanks.”

  Buoyed by her sister’s compliment, she showed her the rest of the house. Andie loitered in the master bedroom where John painted the white trim along the ceiling. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a nod. “I love what you’re doing in here.”

  John dabbed more paint on to the trim. “It’s gray walls with white trim.”

  “Tell me about your vision for this room.”

  “Your sister can tell you.”

  “But it’s your vision, John.”

  He stopped painting but didn’t come down off the ladder. “Lavender with navy accents. I’m using an old door to create a headboard. Thick comforter with lots of pillows. Everything soft and plush. This will be the parents’ retreat after a long day of jobs and kids.”

  “It’s great.”

  John returned to his painting, and Cassie ushered her sister to one of the bedrooms they were decorating for the twins. “John’s going with a garage theme for the kids’ rooms.”

  Andromeda frowned. “Garage?”

  “The boys like cars and trucks, so we’re making it look like a mechanic’s garage. A huge case where they can line up their cars. A workbench with toy tools. And we’re putting in black-and-white carpet tiles. Bold primary colors for the walls.”

  “Hey, sweetie.” Tiny put his can of paint down on the floor and came over to her sister to kiss Andromeda’s cheeks. “How’re you doing?”