by Syndi Powell
“Before we announce the winners of our first annual Belvedere Take Back the Neighborhood contest, I’d like to read a letter I received yesterday.” He pulled a small folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket and put on reading glasses. He scanned the room over the top of the letter, then started reading. “Dear Mr. Belvedere. Words cannot express our joy at your news earlier this week. We want to thank each person who worked tirelessly to complete our home. Our family will be moving in as originally planned because of the selflessness of those who saw a need and stepped in to help. We were told that neighbors stepped in as well as contractors and designers. We look forward to being a part of such a welcoming community. Thank you and bless you. The Murphy family.”
He paused and again looked out over the crowd. “They couldn’t come tonight, but I’d like to recognize those who gave of their own time. Will those who helped finish the Murphy home please stand and receive this thanks?”
Everyone at their table but the mothers stood, as well as many around the room, while applause filled the ballroom. Cassie glanced around, and the panic she’d been experiencing started to dissipate. John had been right about finishing the house. It wasn’t about the contest but about helping a family who couldn’t have done it themselves. She turned to him and gave him a smile.
The applause died down as they took their seats again. Mr. Belvedere removed his glasses and put them in his pocket along with the letter. “When we started discussing what the Belvedere Foundation could do to further help our communities, someone had this unique idea of transforming a neighborhood by rehabbing abandoned houses. Well, this bloomed into the reason we’re here tonight. Five run-down houses have been transformed into beautiful homes that will belong to five families who dreamed of owning their own home one day but had given up hope. We chose five designers and five contractors that we believed held those same ideals. Eight of you have reached this final point in the contest. The judges and I were astounded by the workmanship and creativity we saw, and I’ll admit that deciding the winners was a difficult choice for us. Would the four teams and the families who will soon move into their new homes please come up and join me on the stage?”
Applause as Cassie stood and followed John to the front of the ballroom. When they reached the stage, John held his hand out to her to help her up the stairs. She took it and squeezed it. This was it. This was it. They gathered behind Mr. Belvedere near the middle of the stage. Her team clasped each other’s hands as Mr. Belvedere pulled out another sheet of paper that listed the teams.
“In fourth place, we have the Sanela and Geller team. Their design incorporated natural elements with a focus on environmental and green products and technologies.”
The team stepped forward to accept congratulations from the judges and returned to their seats. John leaned toward Cassie. “One team down. I have a good feeling about this.”
Cassie wished she shared his enthusiasm.
Mr. Belvedere announced, “In third place, we have the Potter and Wieczorek team who used heirlooms from their family to create a unique style suited for them.”
More applause and congratulations. That left two teams. Cassie raised her eyes to the ceiling. Please let us win. We have to win this. Please please please.
Tiny nudged her, and she turned to see him nodding. “This is it, Cassie.”
Yes, it was. Everything they had been working toward was about to be over. But hopefully that meant they would be able to turn it into a new opportunity with the prize money. A new chance for them all.
Mr. Belvedere turned to the audience. “I wish we could have two winners because these two teams surpassed our wildest dreams. The judges and I struggled with who should take the top spot and, after much debate and discussion, we decided on one team that had that something extra. They took the parameters of the contest, the needs of their family and expanded it to include the purpose of community.”
Cassie’s heart almost stopped. “It’s us. It’s gotta be us, right?”
John looked at her. “I meant what I said before. No matter the outcome, I love you.”
She looked back at him, wanting to echo his words. The drummer in the band started a low drumroll, adding to the tension. Cassie’s team pulled each other in close for a huddle, prepared to hear the news. Prepared to celebrate because they had to win.
Mr. Belvedere cleared his throat. “The winners of the first annual Belvedere Foundation Take Back the Neighborhood contest are...” He paused, and Cassie wanted to yell at him as she did at the television screen when the host waited for dramatic effect. “The Beckett and Sterling team.”
Streamers poured down from the ceiling as the applause and hollers filled the ballroom. Cassie made sure to smile when she approached Beckett with an outstretched hand. “Congratulations.”
Beckett shook her hand. “I heard what you guys did for the house next door. It should have been you that won.”
A loud bang came from the kitchen. Beckett shuddered. She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Beckett. It was probably just a tray that fell.”
He straightened, looking both abashed and angry. “Sorry. I don’t do well with crowds.” He glanced around the crowded ballroom. “I gotta go.”
She glanced over at her team, who looked somberly at her. Trying to keep the smile on her face, she failed. “I’m sorry we didn’t win.”
Jo rushed forward and engulfed her in a hug. “Don’t be. We have an amazing home and garden because of the work you and your team did. I’m not sorry.”
Cassie put her arms around Jo. “I really wanted to win.”
“We all did.” Jo stepped back and looked into Cassie’s eyes. “But this doesn’t make you a loser.”
Then why did it feel like she was? She took a deep breath and tried to keep it together. Because inside she knew that she’d just lost everything.
* * *
JOHN WATCHED CASSIE, who seemed to be on autopilot as she accepted her congratulations from the judge. He could almost see the defeat she had put on like a shawl around her shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to take it off her, but the only one who could do that was her.
The judge shook his hand heartily. “I really wanted your team to win. The way you repurposed items and modernized them was nothing more than spectacular. I hope you continue your career. You’re truly gifted.”
John nodded his thanks and pondered the judge’s words. He wanted to continue what they had started, but without Cassie that wouldn’t happen. She inspired him. Challenged him. Made him and his ideas better. And if she wasn’t going to be involved, he didn’t know if he could continue.
He turned to Cassie and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “Don’t, John. I don’t want to hear how we didn’t really lose. Because if we’re not the winners, then what does that make us? Right. The losers.”
She pushed past the group that had gathered around the winning team and fled the ballroom. John turned to Tiny. “Is she going to be okay?”
Tiny’s eyes followed her as she exited the room. He shook his head. “Those words she just said? She heard them from her father enough times that I think she’s started to believe them. I hope she can bounce back, but I don’t know.”
“What about you and Biggie?”
Tiny glanced behind him at his brother, who stood silently watching the crowd. “We always land on our feet. Maybe it’s time we look at retirement.”
“Are you ready for that?”
He laughed, but the sound dripped with bitterness in John’s ears. “Besides Cassie, who’s going to hire two old carpenters and painters?”
“I’d hire you.”
Tiny gave him a smile and put his hand on John’s shoulder. “We’ll take you up on that offer if you need us. It was a pleasure working with you.”
The two men shook hands and then left the stage. At the foot of the platform, Jo and Donny
waited for him. Jo wrapped her arms around him. “I wish we had won.”
“That makes two of us.”
Donny held out his hand, and John shook it vigorously. “Thank you for all your hard work.”
Jo glanced around them. “We wanted to thank Cassie, too, but I lost her in this crowd.”
She couldn’t be found because she didn’t want to be. John gave a short nod. “I’ll be sure to let her know when I see her next.” If he ever saw her again.
“We’re having a barbecue a week from Sunday if you’d like to join us. I want to break in a new grill while we still have nice weather.” Donny turned to Tiny and Biggie. “You two are also invited. I’m thinking steaks, and Jo makes a fabulous bacon dip you need to try.”
John nodded. “I’ll bring dessert and my mom, if that’s okay.”
“I’ll be there,” Biggie said, looking at John.
Tiny shook Donny’s hand. “We’ll bring something, too. I may not cook much, but I know how to pick out a great veggie tray. Do your boys like ranch?”
Jo laughed. “They eat everything, those two.” She turned to John. “Please invite Cassie, as well.”
He would try. He would reach out to her, but he couldn’t guarantee if she would reach back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE TANNERS’ BACKYARD had filled with neighbors and friends as Donny manned the grill. He held up a hand in greeting as John entered the backyard. “Jo says to take food into the kitchen. Then help yourself to a beer from the cooler and help me with these steaks. That is, if she doesn’t find another job for you to do first.”
John went inside and found Jo in the kitchen. She was directing several people about where to put food they’d brought to the barbecue. She smiled at him as he placed a cherry pie on the end of the counter, where someone else had placed a whole watermelon. She searched drawers and sighed. “Why Donny’s brother couldn’t cut the watermelon before bringing it, I don’t know.”
John glanced down at the whole pie. “I didn’t cut the pie yet, but if you’ve got another knife I can.”
She handed him a knife. “Please, and thank you.” She turned to someone who asked a question about where to put salads. “They go over there by the window.” She started to cut into the watermelon, but she didn’t have the strength to make it through the thick rind.
“Here. Let’s trade.” He handed her his knife and took the larger butcher one from her and plunged the knife into the melon.
“Thanks.”
As they sliced the pie and fruit, Jo looked up at him. “Did you hear from Cassie?”
Eight calls, and they had all gone unanswered. He shook his head. “She’s off licking her wounds, I think. Don’t take it personally.” Not that he’d followed his own advice.
“She’s got nothing to be ashamed of.” Jo looked around the kitchen. “She made this beautiful place for us.”
“All she knows is that we lost.” And he’d lost her. He motioned to the watermelon. “Do you want this in slices or cubes?”
“Slices. Let me find you a platter to put them on.” She rummaged through cupboards and, finally finding what she wanted, handed him a tray. “We’ve been here almost a week, and I’m still searching for stuff.”
“I’m surprised you got everything unpacked in a week.”
She shook her head. “We haven’t. Just don’t look in the media room. I told Donny that if we were having company on Sunday, we had to get the kitchen unpacked and ready. Everything else could wait.” She paused, a soft smile on her lips. “Well, the kitchen and the boys’ rooms.”
Just as she mentioned her sons, one of them zoomed through the kitchen on his way outside. “Milo, slow down.” She shook her head. “He’s only got one setting. Fast-forward.”
She positioned the wedges of watermelon on the platter. “I don’t see how we lost. I know the judges decided on the other team, but you and Cassie are winners in my eyes. The way you transformed this house is spectacular. People should see the work you did.”
“We’ll get some regional recognition. It may not be national television, but it’s something.”
She smiled and patted his arm. “You didn’t bring your mom?”
John grimaced. “Biggie said he would pick her up and bring her himself.”
“That’s so sweet.”
He could think of other words for it, but he had promised his mother that he would be polite. He was happy that his mother had finally moved on from his father. And as for her choices, she could do worse. But still. Biggie Buttucci?
Speaking of Buttuccis, Tiny entered the kitchen and handed off a large vegetable tray with ranch dip to Jo. He nodded to John. “I didn’t get a hold of Cassie. Did you?”
“I think she’s avoiding us all.”
Tiny sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of. The contest gave her a sense of purpose.” Tiny eyed John. “Can you think of a new project we could bring her in for?”
John shook his head. “I was hoping you’d know of something.”
“I’ll keep an ear out.” He started to leave the room but then turned back to face John. “Someone who loved her wouldn’t give up on her.”
“I’m not the one who gave up.”
“Just saying. If I were in love with her, I wouldn’t stop pestering her. I’d camp out on her front porch if I had to.”
The idea tempted John.
Tiny went to join the group outside on the patio. Jo handed John a cantaloupe. “Might as well cut this, too.” She watched him slice into it then scoop out the seeds. “I had always thought you and Cassie were a couple.”
“I’m not even sure if we’re friends anymore.”
“I saw the way she looked at you when you were dancing the other night. There was more than friendship there.”
He mulled that over as he finished cutting the melon into wedges.
Later, in the backyard, he joined Donny, who stood at the grill with another man. When John approached them, the other man acknowledged him. “Donny told me you were here. John, right?”
John nodded. “Yes. And you are?”
“Ian Murphy from next door.”
John smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
“When Donny said you’d be here today, I had to meet you.” He looked behind him. “Is your girlfriend here?”
“Girlfriend?”
Donny leaned in. “He means Cassie.” He shook his head as he used tongs to turn over hot dogs on the grill. “John keeps insisting that they’re just friends, but we know what we see. There’s something there.”
“She’s not coming.”
“Oh.” Ian looked disappointed but gave a shrug. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. And I don’t mean Donny’s burnt hot dogs.”
“They’re not burned.” Donny peered at the meat, wincing. “They’re just a little darker than normal.”
Ian laughed and slapped Donny on the back, but John had a difficult time putting a fake smile on his face. He started to ease away and turned to find Miss Loretta handing him a bottle of water. “You look thirsty.”
He accepted the bottle but didn’t open it. “Thanks.”
“You’re also looking a little lost.”
He guessed that he was. With the contest, his days had been filled with working on the house. Now that it was over, he felt a little at loose ends. A friend of his mother’s had asked him to come look at her house and give an estimate of what it would cost to update the kitchen. But he didn’t know anything about that. That was Cassie’s domain. He could recommend ways to paint and decorate, but completely redoing the kitchen wasn’t his expertise. “I’m mulling over my career options now that the contest is over.”
Loretta peered at him, but shook her head. “No, it’s about that woman.” She looked around the backyard. “Cassie didn’t come today?”
“She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I left her about eight voice mails about today.” He gave a shrug. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Have you given her a chance?”
“Eight voice mails, Miss Loretta.”
“So call again and leave her a ninth. And a tenth.” She put a hand on his arm. “Do you want her to be a part of your life? If so, you don’t give up after eight calls. And you don’t depend on a phone call to do what you should say in person.”
John cracked open the bottle and gulped the water. In person? Trying to talk to her over the phone seemed a safer option. He couldn’t be made a fool of that way. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know? Do you have doubts over her feelings?” She peered at him. “There comes a time in everyone’s life where they have to decide whether they let the doubts rule their lives or if they make a grand gesture to get what they want. Is this the time or not? Only you can say.”
The doubts were loud in his head, but if Miss Loretta was right then it was time for the grand gesture. Whether Cassie accepted him or not, at least he’d know for sure.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN days since she’d lost what she saw as her future. It sounded a bit melodramatic, but there it was. As she sat waiting for her father in the visiting room of the county jail, she felt as bleak and hopeless as the dull gray walls and hard metal tables and chairs there. She had tried her best, and she had still lost.
Her mother had reminded her that she would bounce back. That she had an unwritten future ahead of her where she could do anything she wanted. Well, she’d done what she wanted, but she hadn’t been good enough.
She guessed that was what all this gloom was about. She’d never be good enough to run her own company. To be her own boss.
To finally earn her father’s praise.
The door opened, and her father shuffled in behind two other inmates. She stood as he entered, surprised how old and feeble he’d become in such a short time. He frowned when he saw her and ambled to the table where she sat. “Cass, why are you here?”