Last One Home

by Debbie Macomber

  Steve shook his head, shocked that he’d been lost in his own world. “Yes, sorry.”

  “Do you have another appointment?” Charlie Lane asked. The job was with Grand Coulee Dam in eastern Washington, wheat country. They were a small company compared to the other bidders, and Steve had considered himself fortunate to get the contract. He had a good estimator who’d brought in a highly competitive bid. Now, however, Steve’s company was losing money and it was the fault of the supplier. Steve had gone in to troubleshoot the project and stay long enough to make sure the job was back on schedule before he headed back to Tacoma for the Hoedown on Saturday night.

  “Another appointment?” Steve asked, repeating the question. “What makes you ask?”

  “You keep looking at your watch.”

  He was looking at the time, wondering how long it would be before he could talk to Cassie. He had forced himself not to call her for the last three days—she seemed to need some space, and he didn’t want to scare her off. All he could do was hope that she missed seeing him as much as he missed being with her.

  Originally he’d intended to wait out the entire week. Then that morning he’d woken with a strong desire to hear the sound of Cassie’s voice. If he called, he would need to wait until early evening, when he was sure she’d finished work at Goldie Locks, and then give her a couple extra hours in case she was putting in her time with Habitat.

  “I have a phone call to make,” Steve explained.

  “Do you want to wait to go over these schematics?” Charlie asked.

  “No, now is good.”

  By the time Steve was back in his run-down hotel room, he felt like a compulsive smoker who’d put off having a cigarette until the end of the day. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached for his cell and noticed that his fingers actually shook in their eagerness to connect with Cassie.

  Her cell rang three times with no answer, and Steve was convinced it was about to go to voice mail. Should he leave a message? Or should he wait and try again later? Before he could decide, the line connected.

  “Hello.”

  This wasn’t Cassie. It didn’t seem possible that he had the wrong number. “Amiee?”

  “Oh, hi, Steve.” The twelve-year-old sounded bright and cheerful, happy to hear from him.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She’s in the shower. I can get her if you want. She never takes long because the hot water turns cold real fast.”

  “I can call back later.”

  “No, don’t, because she’s been in a real funk ever since you left. You’re her BAE, you know.”

  “Her what?”

  “BAE. Before Anyone Else.”

  Steve couldn’t help it—he broke into a huge smile. “Really?”

  “Yeah, she’s eaten oatmeal for breakfast three days straight and she hates oatmeal. Hold on a minute and I’ll tell her you’re on the phone.”

  Steve heard the sound of Amiee setting down the phone and then, a minute later, her calling her mother. “Mom, your phone rang and I answered it.”

  A short silence followed in which Cassie asked who was calling.

  Amiee answered, “Steve.” Another silence followed before Amiee picked up the phone. “Mom said she’d be here right away. She told me to talk to you until she gets dried off.”

  “So how’s school?” he asked.

  “Okay, I guess. My friend Claudia asked me to go to a concert with her and Mom wants to listen to the group’s lyrics before she’ll agree to let me go. All bands use swear words, you know. If she insists there be no swearing I’ll never go to a concert for my entire life.”

  “I agree with your mom on that one,” Steve told her.

  “You adults stick together, don’t you?” She didn’t sound angry as much as resigned. “Here’s Mom.”

  He smiled when he heard Cassie say his name breathlessly. “Steve?”

  “Hi, there.” He could almost hear Cassie’s heart pounding. What she didn’t know was that his own was just as loud in his ears.

  “Hi, Steve.”

  He didn’t really have a good excuse to call. “How are things going on your end? Have you been to the building site this week yet?”

  “Every day. Everything is coming together so quickly. The foundation got poured this afternoon. I wasn’t really able to help much, but I stayed close by. All the while I kept thinking, This is going to be Amiee’s and my house! I find that unbelievable.” She said this all in one giant breath.

  “The work is only just getting started.”

  “Stan was there, supervising everyone.”

  Steve had personally asked his best friend to fill in for him. Stan was a good man and Steve trusted him to see that the work was up to his own high standards.

  “Shelly and George stopped by, too. They’ve finished their equity hours but came anyway.”

  “They’re good people.” He savored hearing the joy in her voice.

  “How are you doing?” she asked. “I hope you were able to resolve whatever the problem was at work.”

  “It’s all good.” He didn’t dare admit he was lonely and bored. “Were you busy at work?”

  “Three haircuts, a color job, plus two perms, so yes, you can say I was busy, which is good. I’m building up my clientele, which helps with my finances. Once I have regular customers I’ll be able to make a decent living and I won’t need to worry so much.”

  “You’re a good stylist, Cassie. In fact, I was thinking I should book another haircut.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’d be happy to cut your hair anytime.”

  “Tell him, Mom.” Steve could hear Amiee pleading with her mother in the background.

  “Tell me what?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Cassie.” He whispered her name low and deep. “Tell me.”

  He heard her exhale as if bracing herself. “I heard from Duke … a letter.”

  Cassie’s ex-husband, the bastard who’d beat her. “He knows where you live?” God help him if he learned Duke ever came near Cassie again. He didn’t know what he would do, and whatever it was would probably land him in jail.

  “No … he has no way of knowing where Amiee and I live. The letter took six weeks to reach me. Duke wrote to the neighbor lady, an older woman who was more his friend than mine, but a friend. Doris took the letter to the women’s shelter and they forwarded it to me.”

  “And?”

  “Duke’s in prison for manslaughter charges. He’ll be there for a very long time.”

  “Good. So what did Duke want?” If he wanted Cassie back, the brute would have a real fight on his hands.

  “He said that he loved me and Amiee.”

  Steve snorted with disbelief. “You don’t beat the people you love.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you going to write him back?”

  “No. I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t believe a word he says and I won’t put myself or my daughter in a position to be hurt again.”

  “Smart decision.”

  “But Duke did say one thing that gave me pause. Hold on a minute … let me step outside.”

  Steve heard some movement as Cassie had stepped outside of her apartment.

  “Are you still there?” she asked. “I just wanted to go out here where Amiee can’t overhear.”

  “I’m here. Tell me what’s got you concerned.” The muscles in his neck were tense.

  She hesitated. “Duke asked about Amiee … he said he’s done a lot of stupid things in his life but the only good thing was marrying me and fathering Amiee. He said he understood if I didn’t want anything more to do with him, and I don’t. Duke is completely out of my life.”

  “Yes?” said Steve.

  “Toward the end he believed every bad thing that had happened to him was somehow my fault. If he lost his job, he blamed me, if he stubbed his toe, I had somehow caused it to happen. If I stayed I’m convinced he would have …” She sighed. “Oh, never min
d.”

  “He would have murdered you,” Steve finished for her.

  “Yes.” Her voice became a broken whisper. “If I hadn’t fled the night I did, I believe Duke would be in prison for murdering me. I’m as convinced of that as I am of standing right here talking to you.”

  “Then why would you even consider having anything more to do with him?” Steve asked, fighting back outrage.

  “Not me. Amiee. He said he loves his daughter and wants her in his life. He pleaded with me to allow him to at least write her.”

  Steve hesitated. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

  “No, I have no idea. I protected Amiee … she was too young to fully understand what was happening between her father and me. Even when we were living in the shelter, she asked when we could go home again. She said she missed her daddy.”

  Steve knew he wasn’t in a position to give her advice on this question. It was a decision Cassie had to make on her own.

  “I’m so glad you called,” Cassie whispered. “I’ve been upset the last few days over this. I needed a friend to talk to, a sounding board.”

  Friend. Steve was beginning to hate that word.

  “And I’m glad you confided in me. You can trust me, Cassie. I won’t let you down.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long moment, long enough that Steve wasn’t sure she’d heard him. “Cassie?”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Chapter 23

  Nichole and her best friend, Laurie, landed in Phoenix Friday afternoon and stood in line for a taxi that would deliver them to the Phoenician Garden Hotel and Spa. It was ninety-eight degrees, in stark contrast to the mid-sixties and rain drenching Portland, Oregon.

  “I am going to soak in this sunshine,” Nichole said, as she dragged her suitcase out of the airport and toward the taxi line. She closed her eyes and raised her chin, letting the warmth wash over her upturned face. “I can’t tell you how much I need this break.”

  “Me, too,” Laurie agreed. “Thank you so much for bringing me! I can’t believe that Jake was able to get us the prices he did.”

  “He’s the best,” Nichole said. Laurie’s gratitude was touching, but this long spa weekend wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun alone. And it would be fun, even if she already missed Owen. He’d cried when she’d left him with her mother-in-law, but Leanne had been delighted to have this special time with her only grandchild. Nichole had half expected Jake to regret arranging this, but he’d been in good spirits that morning when he’d dropped her off at the airport. They’d hugged and kissed before he had to hurry to the office.

  Their turn for the taxi finally came, and none too soon. Standing this long in the intense sun had become uncomfortable, though Nichole laughed at herself, given that she’d been uncomfortably chilled just a few hours ago. Nichole gave the driver the name of the spa and off they went.

  When they arrived, the outside of the hotel was everything the Internet site had promised. The valet opened the cab door, and even before they could ask, a bellman wheeled a cart to the car and collected their luggage. They were escorted to the front desk, where a clerk greeted Nichole.

  Nichole was agog. She turned a full circle, gazing at their lush surroundings. The lobby was luxurious and inviting, with marble floors and pillars and deep-cushioned chairs and sofas.

  Standing at the front desk, Nichole and Laurie signed themselves in. Within a matter of minutes they were handed their room keys and personally escorted to the elevator.

  “This is unbelievable,” Laurie whispered, as they arrived at their room. She plopped down on the bed, her arms spread-eagled as she was nearly buried in the lush white bedding.

  “It’s even better than what I expected,” Nichole agreed. She walked to the window and looked out over the view of the expansive swimming pool with its Caribbean-colored water. The area surrounding the pool was a thick green lawn with small white tents set up as areas of shade. Several sun worshippers took advantage of a refreshing dip in the water, cooling themselves off from the heat.

  “Let’s go down to the pool,” Nichole suggested. She’d call Jake and let him know that they’d arrived safely. Later, she’d check on Owen, too, and see how Leanne was faring. Nichole didn’t want Leanne to feel she took her generosity for granted. She wanted Leanne to know how much she appreciated her willingness to look after Owen. Although Nichole was reluctant to admit it, it felt incredibly strange to be away from her son. They were together 24/7 and he’d become her entire world.

  As soon as they unpacked their suitcases and changed into their swimsuits, they were out the door. First thing the next morning, their spa time would start, and Nichole could barely wait. Her goal was to get a good start on chipping away at this baby fat—she really wanted to get rid of it before she got pregnant a second time.

  They ordered lemon drops, which were the perfect complement to their afternoon. They lazed out by the pool, dipping in to cool off, and later retreated to one of the cabanas with two padded lounge chairs. Laurie napped, and while her friend dozed Nichole reached for her phone and called her husband. Jake answered right away.

  “Hello, my darling,” she said, her heart bursting with love and appreciation for her husband.

  “Hi, sweetheart. I take it you’ve arrived safe and sound.”

  “We did. The sign at the airport said it was ninety-eight degrees, but it hardly feels that warm.”

  “Low humidity,” Jake said.

  “Laurie and I are by the pool with our drinks. This feels so decadent; you shouldn’t spoil me this way, Jake.”

  “You, my beautiful wife, deserve to be spoiled.”

  Nichole smiled.

  “Okay, sweetheart. Listen, I’d better get back to work. Will you call me tonight?” Jake asked. He sounded distracted.

  “Of course. You aren’t going to be working late again, are you?”

  Jake expelled a long sigh. “I might not have a choice. You know what it’s like here at the winery, with the spring release.”

  Nichole did. “Don’t work too hard.” Her husband gave a hundred and ten percent at his job.

  “Bye, my love,” she whispered, before disconnecting.

  As she hung up, her phone pinged with a text message. It was from her sister, Karen. She read the few words and frowned.

  “Trouble?” Laurie asked Nichole.

  “It’s my sister. She asked if I’d called Cassie yet. We’ve talked a couple times since Karen saw Cassie, and she’s been encouraging me to get in touch with her.” Nichole had been putting it off. She wasn’t sure why, other than the fact that she didn’t know what to say. Her memories of Cassie were tainted by that last dreadful summer when it seemed their entire family had imploded because of her. Nichole had been only fourteen at the time.

  What she’d never told anyone, not even Karen, was that Nichole had found Cassie’s journal and read it. She’d found the entry in which Cassie wrote that Duke had made love to her for the first time. She’d said how badly it had hurt, but that it was better the second time. Then she’d read a later entry where Cassie had written that she feared she was pregnant. When she returned the book, she must have put it in the wrong place, because Cassie knew someone had moved it.

  And she knew who’d read it, too. The look she gave Nichole said as much: a look of disgust and anger that cut Nichole to the quick.

  It was the very next night that Cassie ran away with Duke.

  Nichole’s throat tightened. She’d never said a word to anyone else for fear she was the one who’d caused Cassie to leave. And she’d always been hurt that Cassie didn’t trust her enough to not tell their parents. Cassie had left a note saying she was pregnant, so in the end, Nichole never had to say anything about the journal. Her parents and sister never knew it had been no surprise to her.

  Nichole looked up and noticed Laurie studying her. “You okay?”

  “Sorry … I was. What were we talking about?” She knew exactly what the topic had been.r />
  “Your sister. Karen wanted you to call Cassie, but why doesn’t Cassie contact you?”

  “Good question.” When she first moved to Seattle, Cassie had reached out to Nichole. The conversation had been brief and tense. Nichole hadn’t known what to say and it seemed Cassie didn’t, either. Cassie had congratulated her on being a new mother, and soon afterward the conversation had dwindled to an embarrassed silence as they each searched for some way to connect. Nichole had felt that if she asked Cassie any questions about her life now, Cassie would cut her off again. At the same time she had too much pride to show a lot of interest in the sister who’d not bothered to stay in touch for years. They hadn’t talked since.

  Laurie asked a couple more questions, which Nichole answered with one-word replies. She didn’t want to talk about Cassie, didn’t want to dredge up the past, especially when it was so unpleasant.

  After several futile attempts at conversation, Laurie brought out her e-reader. Nichole reclined the lounger and decided to nap—her day had started early and she was tired. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, but her thoughts went straight to Cassie.

  Cassie had been with her when Nichole, at age ten, had gotten badly cut when she fell through the sliding glass door. She could still remember it vividly—once she saw the amount of blood, Nichole had panicked. Cassie had been calm and reassuring, taking care of everything, including calling the paramedics. Afterward, at the hospital, once Nichole had been stitched up, Cassie had started to shake and had tears in her eyes as she confessed how frightened she’d been. Nichole would never have guessed it.

  It was Cassie who’d helped her understand geometry, too. Her sister had patiently sat at her side and explained it in a way that made sense, far better than their math teacher ever had. It was Karen who’d taught her about makeup, but Cassie was the one who helped her put together cool outfits. She also helped her do her hair.

  The memories unsettled her and Nichole sat up, intent on putting Cassie out of her mind. It was now after Owen’s nap time—she’d call her mother-in-law.

  Leanne answered on the second ring. She sounded a bit breathless, as if she’d been chasing after her grandson. “Is Owen wearing you out?” Nichole asked, concerned.