EVENTUALLY, WORK CONTINUED at the house without any further incidents. Cassie’s next big job on her list was to install the shower pipe so that the Buttucci brothers could finish putting up the walls in the bathroom, then tile the shower and tub area. She’d debated on the best fixture and settled on a handheld shower so that could it be used at a lower level for washing the boys at bath time. John had agreed and found a deal on a nickel-plated set that had been a staple in homes during the 1950s.
Because of the six-foot height of the pipe for the showerhead, she couldn’t reach where she needed to. She’d brought in a ladder, but with the sloped sides on the tub, it wouldn’t fit where she needed it to be. Sometimes she hated her height.
She found John in the backyard, playing fetch with Evie. She hated to interrupt his playtime, but she needed a taller person’s help. Spotting her at the back door, Evie bounded over with the ball in her mouth. Cassie grasped the ball and threw it to the far corner of the backyard. Evie raced after it as Cassie joined John. “Could you help me with something?”
“Sure.”
He followed her inside to the bathroom. She held up the shower pipe. “I can’t reach.”
“Oh, right.” He held the pipe in place and she got ready for the next step.
“Here, you’ll need these,” she said, and snapped a pair of goggles on him. “I’ve installed the pipes for the waterlines, but now I need to have this pipe that will come out of the wall and attach to the showerhead.”
She put on goggles and then checked the connections. “We’re going to attach the shower pipe, then sweat it and check for any leaks.”
“Sweat?”
“Solder. It involves a propane torch to weld together the connections.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I have to admit that using the torch is my favorite part of the process.”
He laughed and she noticed him shift his stance to get a stronger grip on the pipe. It brought her into even closer contact with him. “Sorry it’s so tight in here,” she said.
“I’m not complaining.”
The joke warmed her, but the look in his eyes told her he was serious. She clamped a flame guard screen around the wood wall frame and then started the torch. With John standing so close to her, she carefully soldered the fittings to prevent any leaks. She couldn’t quite reach the topmost section, so she handed the torch to John.
“You want to solder the joints together at the ell.”
He followed her instructions and then asked, “Like this?”
“Yes, a little more.” She handed him a rag and took the torch from him. “Now wipe off the excess solder.” She nodded. “Good. Want to test it now?”
“You’re the expert. Do you think it’s safe?”
“It better be or my Daddy taught me wrong.”
She left him to turn the water back on. When she returned, John had stepped out of the tub. With Cassie’s approval, he then turned on the cold-water valve. A clunk and a hiss, and water poured out of the shower pipe. Cassie clapped her hands as John looked both surprised and pleased.
She turned off the valve and tested the one for hot water. They held their breath as water came out of the spout and flowed into the tub.
John held up his hand, and she gave him a high five. “Nice plumbing job, Mr. Robison.”
“I only did what you told me to, Miss Lowman.”
John kept a hold of her hand and she let him. She grinned and used her other hand to shut off the valve. “I’ll call to let the inspector know the bath fittings are ready to be inspected, and then we can finish putting up the drywall and start the tiling in here.”
“The house is really coming together.”
“I love when it gets to this point. Seeing the frame and trying to imagine what the finished product will look like is hard. But this—This is fun. Thank you for your assistance.”
John took a step closer to her and wiped her cheek with his free palm. “My pleasure.”
She swallowed hard at his touch and kept her eyes on his. She remembered the kiss they’d shared before and wondered if it would be as good as the first time. Reaching up on tiptoe, she put her lips to his. He brought an arm around her back and nudged her closer so that they were pressed together. The kiss continued until someone else cleared their throat.
Cassie jerked back from John to find Biggie watching them from the doorway. He shook his finger, but smiled at them before he let Tiny inside. “I thought you were installing the shower.”
“We were. It’s finished,” she told them.
Tiny’s eyebrows were raised as if he wasn’t convinced. He huffed, “And now we kiss each other to reward a job well done? Things have definitely changed without your father being around.”
“Leave them be, Tiny,” Biggie said, a warning lilt to his voice. He disappeared, pulling his brother along with him.
Cassie groaned and leaned her head on John’s chest. “Why did they have to catch us kissing? Of all things.”
John stroked his hand on her cheek before kissing her again. “I like the idea of kissing you every time you do a good job.”
Cassie started to say something, but she was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She answered, “Lowman Construction.”
“Cass.”
Her father. She walked out into the hall, dropping the volume of her voice. “Where are you?”
“You’re not alone.”
“No.”
She heard three tiny beeps and checked her phone to see that her father had hung up. Unsure if she was upset by that or by the fact that he’d reached out to her at all, she blew a loud puff and tucked the phone into her jeans pocket. Back in the bathroom, John seemed to be watching only her. She pasted a smile on her face. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”
He colored and put his hands in his pockets. “It’s late, and I should get going if you don’t need me any longer.”
The truth was they hadn’t needed him to help with the reno since he was the ideas man. But Cassie appreciated the fact that he wasn’t worried about getting his hands dirty. “Right. Have a good night.”
He moved past her, and she looked away. The moment had obviously been missed.
But then abruptly he turned back and put a hand on her cheek. He leaned in and she let her eyes close to revel in the kiss. “Now it’s a good night,” he whispered.
CASSIE PULLED UP in front of her mother’s house and frowned at the sight of an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Maybe Andie had bought a new car? Or her mother had turned in hers for a smaller and cheaper model? She grabbed the bag from Lucille’s off the passenger seat beside her and walked up to the front door, letting herself inside. The living room was empty. “Mother?”
No answer. She checked her watch—she was right on time for Sunday’s family dinner. In the kitchen, she took the antipasto salad from the bag and laid it on the counter next to the stove, where a Bolognese sauce simmered. Her mother had to be in the house, since she wouldn’t leave without turning off the burner.
Cassie strained to hear voices, but only silence filled the house. She folded the paper bag from Lucille’s and stashed it with others under the kitchen sink. It was Sunday, right? She hadn’t lost track of time again, had she? “Mother?”
The French doors that led to the backyard opened, and her mother entered, trailed by a woman in a pastel blue linen suit. “As you can see, I put a lot of time into my garden.” Her mother spotted her standing there. “Oh, Cassandra, you’re early.” She turned back to the stranger. “This is my daughter, Cassandra. You might have heard she’s in the Belvedere Foundation’s contest.”
The woman beamed. “Congratulations on the contest. I’m Selena, your mother’s Realtor.”
Realtor? The room seemed to sway for a moment, and Cassie put a hand on the counter to steady herself. “Nice to meet you.”
Her mother gave the sauce a stir, then placed the wooden spoon on the spoon rest. “Selena, let me show you the bedrooms so you can get those measurements.”
The two women left the kitchen while Cassie tried to quell the tremors in her chest. Her mother talking about selling the house was very different from having an actual Realtor taking measurements. She collapsed on a stool. She’d never thought that the family home would be sold before she was married and had kids. She’d always imagined bringing her own family here for the holidays. Taking her children trick-or-treating in the neighborhood that she’d grown up in. Standing around the dining room table with hands clasped while they shared what they were thankful for. Sitting on the floor in the family room while unwrapping gifts by the Christmas tree. Egg hunts in the backyard while a ham baked in the oven.
“Didn’t you get my message that dinner had to be pushed back an hour tonight?” Her mother’s voice broke her reverie.
“No. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t paid much attention to my phone.”
“Except when your father calls.” Her mother brushed past her and checked the sauce once more before turning to her. “Selena thinks the house will sell pretty quickly, depending on what we price it at. I could be moving by the end of the summer.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s happening too fast.”
“I’ve talked about this for months.”
Her mother had, but Cassie had clung to the hope that nothing would have to change. That it would go away without having to go to such extremes. “Where will you go?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but your aunt has offered to let me stay with her for a while.”
Cassie glanced around the kitchen. “We’re losing it all, aren’t we? The house. The business.”
Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. “But we’ll still have each other. Our memories. That’s more important than anything.”
It wouldn’t bring her father back, though. Cassie rubbed at her eyes. “I know. It’s just...”
Selena entered the kitchen and held up her tablet. “I have all the figures I require. I’ll start putting this into the system and have the listing contract ready for you to sign first thing tomorrow morning. Should I come back around nine?”
“That would be fine. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Her mom and the real estate agent left the kitchen as Andie entered and looked behind her. “Who was that with Mother?”
“Her Realtor.”
Andie groaned and took a seat on the stool next to Cassie. “Isn’t she jumping the gun a little?”
“That’s what I thought, too.” Cassie stood and walked to the stove to stir the sauce. “I didn’t think this would ever happen.”
“Because you’ve always been in denial about Daddy.”
Cassie bristled at the accusation. “Because I defend him and want to believe the best about him?”
“Because you don’t want to face the truth that your hero betrayed not only his clients and his family, but that he left you. His precious baby girl. That’s what hurts you the most. That you’re not so special to him after all.”
“You’ve always been jealous of my relationship with Daddy.”
“Well, you can have him. He’s a thief. And a liar.”
Cassie slammed the wooden spoon onto the counter, splattering red tomato sauce. Prickling with anger, she told her sister, “Take. That. Back.”
Andie crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s true. He stole from everybody, including us. The house is one more thing we have to lose because of his behavior. And the one who is suffering the most is Mother.”
“Daddy wouldn’t let that happen.”
“He already has. I wish you’d wake up and realize the fact that he’s not the man you thought he was.”
Their mother arrived and chastised them both. “Girls, enough!”
Cassie retreated to the dining room and gripped the back of a chair for support, wishing for strength. She could hear her mother consoling Andie but didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them figure it all out.
They couldn’t talk away the hot anger that burned in Cassie’s chest. Anger at her sister for saying such horrible things about their father. Anger at her mother for selling the house. But mostly, fury at her father. How could he do this to them? To her? He’d promised to be a good father and husband, but he’d left them to deal with this mess on their own.
Betrayed and abandoned by her father. She clutched the spindles until her knuckles turned white.
“Cassandra?” Her mother entered the dining room and stood behind her.
Cassie couldn’t face her. Afraid that if she saw her mother’s kind expression she’d crumple into tears. And she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “Leave me alone.”
“You need to apologize to your sister.”
Cassie chuckled at the suggestion. “I’m not nine years old anymore where you can tell me what to do. You didn’t hear what she said.”
“You two were yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, so yes I did.”
Cassie felt her mother put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “Please, don’t touch me.”
“Let’s talk about this.”
“What’s there to talk about? You and Andromeda think Daddy’s guilty, but I believe in him. I love him. And I can’t stay here any longer and listen to the two of you.”
“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.