Last One Home

by Debbie Macomber

  Cassie squared her shoulders and refused to give him the upper hand. “I’ll be there at six.” And she would do everything within her power to make it happen.

  Steve left first, and the instant he was out the door, Cassie faced Megan. “What’s his problem?”

  Megan’s look was full of apology. “I can’t say. He’s probably had a bad day. Try not to take it personally.”

  “Don’t take it personally?” Cassie repeated. “Why would he take such an instant dislike to me?”

  “My guess is that it’s because you’re pretty and petite. I think you might remind him of his wife.”

  “Someone actually married that Neanderthal?” Not a great question, seeing as she’d married Duke.

  “Alicia died three years ago.”

  That brought Cassie up short, and she was immediately apologetic. “Oh … sorry.”

  “Alicia had cancer and did a lot of volunteer work at the store when she was going through her treatments. After she died, Steve started doing volunteer work with Habitat. He’s an electrical contractor with something like fifty employees, so he’s always working, either at his own business or here. Personally, I think he uses Habitat as a means of dealing with his grief. He’s a great guy once you get to know him.”

  “Children?”

  “None. From what others told me, Alicia miscarried three pregnancies. It was later that the doctors learned she had cancer, which might have been the reason she was unable to carry a baby to full term.”

  His wife’s death might explain some of his bad attitude, but not all. “Did you ever meet his wife?” Cassie asked.

  “Once at a fund-raising event. It was clear Steve was crazy about her. He’s been angry with the world ever since, so when I say don’t take it personally, don’t.”

  Cassie would do her best to avoid clashing with Steve Brody, although she didn’t know if that was possible.

  “Kill him with kindness,” Megan suggested.

  “Can’t I just kill him?” she joked, and they both laughed.

  Megan’s idea wasn’t far off base, though. She would do her utmost to play nice with the bad-tempered Mr. Brody.

  Chapter 5

  Cassie stuck her head in her daughter’s bedroom. “Amiee, time to wake up for school.”

  Amiee moaned, rolled over, and pulled the blanket high up, covering her head.

  “Amiee.” To say the twelve-year-old wasn’t a morning person would be a gross understatement.

  “Five more minutes,” Amiee pleaded.

  “I’ve already given you five minutes. If you don’t get up right now you’ll miss the bus.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “And make your bed.”

  “Mom …”

  “No arguing.” Cassie wondered if the day would ever come when her daughter would cheerfully greet mornings with a smile. That was part of her problem, Cassie supposed—she was a natural-born dreamer.

  About ten minutes later Amiee stumbled out of the bathroom, dressed and with her hair combed. Cassie had breakfast on the table: cold cereal, toast, and milk. She was in a rush herself. Because she had to get to the Habitat site by six, she could not run behind at all today or she’d be in trouble. Cassie was determined to make this opportunity work. Getting a real home for Amiee and her was too important to risk.

  Furthermore, she had something to prove to the arrogant Steve Brody. If he didn’t think she could pull her share because she had a French manicure, well, he was in store for a big surprise.

  The house she was assigned to work on that evening was nearly finished. Cassie hadn’t yet met the Youngs, who would eventually move into the home, but Megan from Habitat had told her about George and Shelly. At one time they’d been homeless and lived in their car with their family until they were accepted into a shelter. Slowly, a little at a time, they’d worked their way into a position to apply for a Habitat house.

  The Youngs’ home was nearing completion. Megan, from the head office, had explained that this evening they would be finishing the work on the roof. Frankly, Cassie couldn’t think of a better spot for her to prove her worth. She’d never been afraid of heights and was ready to show Steve Bighead she had a strong work ethic.

  Amiee sat down at the table and glared at the cereal. “Again?” she said, and moaned.

  “Cereal is good for you. Besides, I got it on sale.”

  “I’ve had it every morning for a month. Next time don’t buy ten boxes. I don’t care if it was only ninety-nine cents a box. I need variety.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll fix you a poached egg tomorrow.”

  “Mom,” she said, and groaned, “poached eggs are gross.”

  “Protein, my darling,” she announced with panache. “You need protein to get those brain cells activated. And weren’t you telling me you have a history test first thing Monday morning?”

  As if she was being expected to eat glue, Amiee lifted her spoon and took her first tentative bite.

  “You’ve got your homework in your backpack?”

  Amiee glared at her.

  “Okay, sorry I asked.”

  Cassie moved about the kitchen, putting away the milk and the sugar bowl as she took the clean dishes from the drainer and stacked them in the cupboard. “Remember, Rosie is picking you up on her way home from work.”

  Amiee glanced up. “How come?”

  “Two things. The youth group at church is having pizza night and—”

  Her daughter interrupted her. “What kind of pizza?”

  “Amiee!” What a ridiculous question. Her daughter should be grateful for the opportunity instead of being so picky.

  “You know I don’t like black olives.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry,” Cassie said, shaking her head.

  “Where will you be?” Amiee asked.

  Cassie glanced at her wrist. Time was ticking. “I already told you. I’ll be working at the Habitat house.”

  “Can I work, too?”

  “I don’t know yet, but as soon as I find out, you’ll be the first to know.” Her daughter had taken only a few tentative bites of the cereal.

  “Time to go,” Cassie announced, checking her watch. It seemed every morning Amiee left for the bus stop at the very last second.

  Her daughter took one last spoonful of cereal, grabbed the toast, and reached for her backpack, which she swung over her shoulder as she headed for the front door.

  “Your cell phone is charged?”

  “Mom!”

  “Sorry, silly question. Call me when you get home from school.”

  “I always do.”

  “Right, because I remind you every morning,” Cassie tossed out, “and I do that because I love you.”

  “I know.” Amiee headed out the door but turned back and offered her a weak smile. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  As soon as the kitchen was cleaned, her own bed was made, and she’d applied her makeup, Cassie left the apartment for Goldie Locks. Rosie was already at the salon and had the coffee made. The scent of it filled the room. Although Cassie had had a cup at home, she reached for a mug and helped herself.

  “Thank you for picking up Amiee for me tonight.”

  Rosie was busy at the front desk, checking the phone messages. When she’d finished she glanced up at Cassie. “No problem. And listen, before I forget, I heard back from my cousin Russell.”

  Cassie’s hand tightened around the mug handle. “What did he say?” If she was able to get on with the caterer for the Sounders, it would mean the world to her. Earning this extra cash was the only way she could think of to collect the furniture she so badly wanted and just as badly needed.

  Rosie gave her a thumbs-up. “Can you work this Sunday?”

  Cassie nodded. It seemed everything had turned around for her in such a short amount of time. First she’d heard from her sister, then she learned she’d been accepted into the Habitat program, and now this. For the first time since she was a teena
ger Cassie felt as if she was in control of her own life. For years she’d felt like a salmon struggling to swim upstream. Now that she was out from under Duke’s thumb, she’d reversed her course and flowed with the current instead of against it.

  “What do I need to do?” Cassie asked.

  “It’s pretty straightforward. Your job consists of delivering food items to the suites, but Russell will give you the details on Sunday. He needs you to arrive early so you can fill out the necessary paperwork.”

  “Sure. I’ll be available whenever he says.”

  “I told him what a hard worker you are.”

  “Thanks, Rosie. You don’t know how much this means to me.” She resisted the urge to hug her friend. It’d taken Cassie a long time to come out of the protective shell she’d built around her and Amiee. Duke had frowned upon any friendships she made—it didn’t matter if they were male or female. Cassie quickly learned there was a steep price to pay if she went against her husband’s wishes. The isolation she’d endured during the years she was married had been one of the worst aspects of that sick relationship. Consequently, Cassie had to relearn what it meant to be a friend and to have friends.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching on the words. It was important that Rosie know how deeply Cassie appreciated the other woman’s confidence in her. “I’ll be the best food deliverer Russell has ever hired, I promise.”

  Cassie’s Friday was harried. She gave up her lunch break, which was the price she had to pay in order to adjust to keep herself on schedule. She couldn’t be in two places at the same time and she needed to be able to work on the Habitat project.

  As soon as she finished with her last client, she changed into an old pair of jeans and a thin sweatshirt, ready to climb on that roof and prove to Steve that he was completely wrong about her. Hard work had never been a problem for Cassie. She didn’t walk away from it or make excuses. She was willing to do whatever was necessary.

  Cassie found the address for the Habitat house in South Seattle and parked her car. It was a nice neighborhood with a number of newer homes. The house was well under construction. A couple stood out front and Cassie reasoned they must be Shelly and George Young. Cassie got out of her car and walked across the dirt lot to introduce herself.

  “I’m Cassie,” she said.

  “I’m Shelly.” The other woman was tall and thin, with long, dark hair and eyes that darted around as if she was afraid of holding eye contact.

  “And I’m George.” The bulky, muscular man stepped forward and offered her his hand. “I heard from Steve that this is your first time working with Habitat.”

  “First time and first day,” Cassie explained. “I met Steve earlier … don’t think I impressed him much.” She probably shouldn’t have said that, and wished now that she hadn’t.

  “How come?” Shelly asked, looking directly at Cassie for the first time.

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “I think he dislikes the color purple.”

  Shelly smiled.

  “And I don’t think he’s that keen on a French manicure.” She held out her hands for inspection. “But I’m determined to work hard and prove myself to him and anyone else who thinks I’m nothing more than fluff.”

  “Steve’s a good person,” George said. “He’s been with Shelly and me from the start. At first he was a little gruff, but once he got to know us he let up.”

  “Actually,” Shelly said shyly, “I don’t know who changed, if it was Steve or us.”

  “You have a job?” George asked.

  “Hairstylist,” Cassie told him, and noticed Steve had arrived.

  He climbed out of his truck, slammed the door closed, and then started toward them.

  “I work at Goldie Locks,” Cassie continued.

  Shelly bit into her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking of restyling my hair. It’s been over a year since I had a real haircut.”

  “Are you going to stand around and discuss hairstyles or are we here to work?” Steve asked. Although he spoke to the three of them, Cassie had the distinct feeling the comment was directed toward her.

  Cassie wanted it understood she was no slouch. “I’m here to work.”

  He nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I understand we’ll be putting on the roofing material.” George had placed the ladder against the side of the house and already had the roofing gun loaded and ready to fire.

  Steve gave the other man a quick nod. “George, you have your assignment.”

  George headed for the side of the house where he’d propped up the ladder.

  “Shelly, I need you to finish taping the sheetrock.”

  “Got it.” The other woman headed inside.

  That left Cassie. “What would you like me to do?”

  Steve regarded her for an extra-long moment. “There’s a bunch of garbage around the work site. Pick it up.”

  Cassie was stunned. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” Steve said.

  “You’re serious? You want me to collect garbage?”

  Steve released a long, slow breath. “The best thing you can do at this point is clear the lot of debris,” he repeated slowly. “I realize it isn’t a glamorous job, but it’s a necessary one. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Cassie was convinced Steve was looking to demean her and she was determined to set him straight. “I came here to do real work,” she said.

  “That is real work,” he qualified.

  Cassie had been ready to climb onto the roof if asked. In fact, she’d been willing to tackle any project he gave her, but cleaning up the job site? She wanted to argue, but she could see it wouldn’t do any good. “No problem at all,” she said, doing her best to rein in her indignation.

  “Then you’d best get started.” He handed her a heavy plastic bag and headed toward the back of the house.

  Infuriated, Cassie clenched the black bag and whirled around. If all he could find for her was this, then by heaven, she’d make sure the construction site was pristine by the time she left.

  After the first thirty minutes Cassie had to agree that there certainly seemed to be a lot of junk lying around. She collected more than the obvious, like Coke cans and papers. She separated what she could for the recycling bin and set nails and other small screws aside. She wasn’t sure what to do with them, but she didn’t want to toss them, thinking it was better not to waste what could be used later.

  Her cell phone rang about forty minutes later. She looked at the ID and saw that it was the Seattle shelter. That meant it was probably Maureen contacting her.

  “This is Cassie.”

  “Hi, Cassie.”

  “What’s up?” She didn’t want to be rude, but by asking the question, Cassie let Maureen know that she couldn’t talk long.

  “I went for a job interview today.”

  “Maureen, that’s great. How did it go?”

  “Okay, I think. It’s not much … I’d be working at the Safeway store, carrying out groceries. The manager was a woman and she was patient with me because I was so nervous. She said that if I was dependable and worked hard that she would keep me on and train me for other work. Lacey Wilson from the support group has a connection with her and she recommended me for the job.”

  “Do you feel good about how the interview went?” Cassie asked.

  Maureen hesitated. “I think so, but I wouldn’t have done nearly as well if Lacey hadn’t talked to me first. We did a mock interview with her asking me questions. She gave me several tips, which helped boost my confidence.”

  “You’re going to do just fine,” Cassie assured her. “Take one day at a time and do the next right thing.” Once Maureen had a chance to earn her own way, her self-esteem would increase to the point that she’d be better able to deal with other obstacles. In the beginning Cassie had experienced that same hesitancy, the same lack of confidence, mingled in with all the fears that went along with having walked on eggshells from the ye
ars she’d been married to Duke. When you are being told you are a useless excuse for a human being over and over, it’s almost impossible not to start believing it to your very core. It had taken counseling and the support of women who had walked in her shoes before Cassie was able to come into her own. Eventually, she found the inner strength to break free of her self-imposed fears and move forward. Maureen would, too.

  “The job is in the north end of Seattle, so if I am hired I’ll be moving to a shelter in Edmonds, and then eventually into government housing. That means I probably won’t see you for a while.”

  Cassie tried not to show her disappointment. “You’re going to do so well,” Cassie assured her friend. “I want you to know how proud I am of you, Maureen.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Cassie pressed her hand over her heart, deeply touched by Maureen’s comment. “Stay in touch, will you?”

  “I will. Thank you again, Cassie, for everything you’ve done for me.”

  In reality, Cassie felt like she should be the one thanking Maureen; the other woman had helped show her how far she’d come.

  “Cassie.”

  Her name was shouted from the top of the house. It sounded more like a bark than a summons.

  Disconnecting the call, Cassie turned to find Steve Brody standing on the roof, staring down at her. Even from this distance she could see he was frowning.

  “Have you finished with your call?” he demanded.

  She didn’t bother to explain. “Yes.”

  “You have a job to do. I suggest you get to it.”

  She held her palms up as if she didn’t understand what he was saying. “Aren’t I allowed to get calls?”

  “Not where you stand like a statue on the construction site and talk for fifteen minutes.”

  She gritted her teeth to keep from arguing. Steve had it in for her. If this was how their working relationship went, it would be impossible for them to work together.

  Chapter 6

  Cassie worked half a day at the salon on Saturday and then picked up Amiee at the apartment before she headed toward the Young housing site in South Seattle. Amiee insisted she was too old for a babysitter, and while Cassie agreed, she was uncomfortable leaving her daughter by herself for an entire day.