8 DOWN: Better than all the rest
Cassie looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and laughed right out loud. She remembered Debra coming home from a night out with friends many years prior, covered in multicolored splatters of paint.
“We were painting Jackie’s new apartment, Mom, and the next thing we knew, we were having this crazy paint fight!” she’d said. Cassie interrupted her with a scream and a shove to keep her daughter from touching anything.
She hadn’t been fighting with anyone, but Cassie certainly looked the part. The gray sweats she’d worn to paint the dining room were covered in dry spatters of Café au Lait, and now she’d added droplets of Seafoam Blue down the leg and smeared it across the sleeve of her T-shirt. A streak of blue highlighted her bangs, and a matching smudge ran down one side of her nose.
The results were worthy of the cost, however, and she stepped out into the bedroom and looked in at her beautiful pale blue master bath. She could hardly wait until Monday after James laid the glazed mosaic floor tiles so she could see the finished product.
“Perfect,” she said aloud. “It’s perfect.”
She stepped back in the bathroom and rinsed the brushes in the bathtub as she made a mental list of added touches that might be nice.
I’ll take a drive over to Tarpon to shop around for a lead glass panel for the window.
Don’t forget wine-colored guest towels and a mat for the floor.
Ooh, maybe a new towel rack? The shiny silver one that’s already there doesn’t match the brushed pewter sconces.
A whispering thought tickled the back of Cassie’s brain. You’re going to sell the place. It doesn’t have to be a showplace. But she brushed it away by trying to recall the name of the store where she’d seen framed panels of leaded and stained glass like the one she wanted for the bathroom window. Perhaps Millicent would want to go along with her after Sunday services. They could have lunch at one of the Greek restaurants near the sponge docks. Years had passed since she and Zan had visited the area, and she wondered if it had changed much.
Cassie shed her clothes near the closet in the bedroom, careful to fold them so that the wet paint didn’t end up on the carpet or wall. She’d awoken before dawn that morning and made the spontaneous decision to paint the master bath. As she glanced at the clock on the night table now, she realized it was still early—barely 9 a.m.
The idea of going to church feathered across her mind, and she debated with herself over it. She could make the ten o’clock Sunday church service if she hurried and then be in Tarpon Springs by noon. It had been such a long time since she’d been to services, but the old-fashioned church with the tall white steeple at the edge of town sort of called to her for some reason, and she wished she had a phone number for Millicent to see if she’d go along with her.
The old blue Volvo was missing from the woman’s carport by the time Cassie left her house at 9:45, so she drove to Grace Community on her own. The choir was already singing when she opened the large door at the back of the church and headed up the aisle to find a seat. Millicent was seated a couple of rows ahead of her with several of her lady friends; Cassie recognized them from the dance lesson in the recreation hall.
When the pastor invited the congregation to greet one another, Millicent hurried toward Cassie and took her by the hand. “Come sit with us, why don’t you?”
Just as she sat down in the pew beside the women, she noticed Richard two rows up, seated with Laura, his pretty blond dance partner. She watched him, wondering if their eyes would meet, but he never even glanced in her direction.
The pastor’s sermon revolved around the story of Jonah. Although he was a wonderful storyteller, Cassie had to push for the extra effort it took to focus on his words. She thought that it bordered on the ridiculous how she kept glancing over at Richard and his beautiful blond companion.
Enough already. Are you sixteen years old? Pay attention!
The pastor told how God had instructed Jonah to go to a city called Nineveh and warn the inhabitants about their rebellious behavior against Him. Jonah didn’t want to be the one to admonish them, and so he ran in the opposite direction, boarding a ship headed for Tarshish.
You are not a teenager, and he’s not your boyfriend. What do you care if Richard Dillon has an eye for blonds? And if Laura the Dancer finds him mutually attractive, it’s her bad luck.
“A great storm came up on the sea,” Pastor Sullivan told them. “Isn’t that just the way? You’re running away from one thing and then you get yourself into more trouble than you ever imagined.”
Cassie chuckled along with the parishioners, and Millicent poked her with her elbow. It took all of her strength not to dart one more glance in Richard’s direction.
“So the sailors, realizing that Jonah’s rebellion from God was the reason for the terrible storm, threw Jonah overboard, and he was swallowed up by a whale. You all know the story. When the whale regurgitated Jonah out on dry land a few days later, he went to Nineveh as he’d been commanded. All that gook and grime inside the belly of the whale could have been avoided if he’d just followed God’s leading in the first place.”
Cassie wondered how many times she’d made the same mistake as Jonah, avoiding what she was supposed to do and then having to do it anyway. She thought about Zan’s many pleadings to spend Christmas at the house in Holiday and how many times she’d refused. And now here she was, but she didn’t have Zan to share it with anymore.
After the benediction, Cassie leaned over toward Millicent and asked her if she was interested in joining her for lunch in Tarpon Springs.
“Oh, we’re serving at the pancake brunch in the hall. You come and have some pancakes, huh?”
“I have to pass,” Cassie told her. “I’m looking for a specific shop in Tarpon near the sponge docks. I haven’t been there in years, but I really want to see if it’s still there.”
“See if what’s still there?”
She turned to find Richard standing beside her, and she greeted him with a shaky smile.
He’s just a random man, Cassandra. What is your problem?
“Cassie’s going fishing,” Millicent teased. “She’s looking for a store that used to be out in Tarpon Springs near the docks.”
“What store is it?” he asked.
“I wish I knew. But they had framed panels of stained glass hanging in their window.”
“Oh, I have to run now to serve pancakes,” Millicent announced. “You have a good time, Cassie. I’ll see you later.”
“Would you like some company?” Richard asked her once Millicent and her friends had gone.
“Well, what about Laura?”
“What about her?”
“Aren’t you here with her?”
Cassie knew she must have sounded like a jealous girlfriend, and she immediately wished she could grab the words back. She wished it even harder once she caught a glimpse of Richard’s smug smile.
“Laura’s here with her mom, Faye,” he explained. “I just sat with them.”
“Oh,” she said, trying to sound casual and realizing she was a miserable failure. “Okay. I just wondered.”
“Would you care if I had come with her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just didn’t want to be rude and steal away her date.”
“A date…to church?”
“Whatever.”
Did I really just say “Whatever”?
“Whatever?” he blurted on a laugh. “You really are jealous. Cassie, you’re making my whole day!”
“Hush!” she exclaimed, and then she turned on her heels and headed for the door.
“Cassie,” he called. He grabbed her elbow with a firm hold. “Cassie, come on. I was teasing you.”
Cassie’s heart was pounding, and she was mortified that this man was so adept at bringing out her inner sixteen-year-old girl with the mad crush on the high school quarterback!
“Do you want to go to Tarpon with me or not?” she muttered, pulling her arm out of his grip.
“I would like to, very much,” he replied.
She tried not to exit in a huff, but with her head tilted upward and those long strides she was taking, she knew it was one more thing at which she had failed.
“Uh, I can drive,” he suggested. “My car’s over here.”
She made a reluctant change in direction, following his lead through the parking lot. The second he could no longer see her face, Cassie cringed.
I’m such a dope.
When she had behaved in a similar manner at the actual age of sixteen, she recalled her mother asking, “Cassie, how old are you again?”
She suddenly wanted to tell her mother to hush up as well. And she would have, too…if the woman hadn’t passed away five years prior.
Cassie and Richard meandered along Dodecanese Boulevard between flocks of tourists of every age and ethnicity. The street was narrow in parts, and it wound its way from the bayou on one end to the aquarium on the other. Edged with large cane-and-lantern streetlights and dotted with shops and restaurants, Tarpon Springs was reminiscent of a Greek seaside village. Along the way, just beyond the marina and various sponge boats docked down the right side of the street, shop owners and restaurateurs alike could be heard speaking to one another in their native language.
A chubby man with no more than twenty greasy strands of hair on his head was wearing a stained apron and called out to his friend in Greek. The man replied, slapping him on the back. Richard cast a glance at Cassie as they passed them.
“I think the cook said that it’s a great day,” she told him. “And his friend said something about it being as beautiful here as it is in Greece.”
“You speak the language then?”
“I float around it,” she corrected. “I can figure it out sometimes. I couldn’t hold a conversation. Zan used to say I was an honorary Greek twice removed, by default and then by marriage. But I do love the culture.”
Cassie pushed her silky brown hair away from her face and then tucked a strand of it behind her ear as they continued down the avenue. Just the simple act made Richard’s chest constrict a little.
“I’m not sure about this, but I seem to remember the shop in question being somewhere in this area,” she told him. “I hope they still sell what I’m looking for.”
Richard noticed a poster for the upcoming Epiphany celebration, and he nodded toward it. “Have you ever attended?”
“I haven’t. It’s right after the new year, isn’t it? We always spent the holiday season in Boston. Have you?”
“A couple of times since I moved south,” he replied. “Will you still be here?”
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
Richard’s heart sank a little. “It’s worth sticking around for,” he told her. “The population of the city doubles in size. Everyone comes out for the party.”
“I don’t really remember the whole idea of the festivities,” she admitted.
“The Greek immigrants depended upon the sea for their livelihood, so the Epiphany was born out of their hopes that God would bless their boats and keep them safe in their work.”
“Don’t they toss something into the water at the end and all the little kids go in after it?” she asked him, and then she paused to peer into the window of a jewelry store.
“At the end of the ceremony, they throw a large wooden cross into Spring Bayou, and the boys around sixteen or eighteen years old dive in to retrieve it. The one who recovers the cross is supposed to be blessed for the following year.”
“Right,” she nodded as if it was all coming back to her.
“Afterward, there’s music and more food than you can imagine.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, tossing a grin—and her light brown hair—over one shoulder toward him. “I can imagine an awful lot of food.”
“You and me both,” he replied. “How about we grab some lunch? We’re coming up on one of my favorite places in the area.”
“All right.”
Santorini Mediterranean Grill sat at the waterside. Through their windows, patrons could watch local fishermen while enjoying traditional Greek cuisine. Richard hadn’t paid the restaurant a visit for several months, but he was greeted like an old friend when he led Cassie through the front door.
“Do you like spinach?” he asked Cassie once they’d settled in at their table.
“I love it.”
“They make a beautiful spanakopita here. Spinach and feta cheese baked inside filo.”
Cassie’s eyes sparked. “That sounds really good.”
“We’ll start with that,” Richard told the waitress. “And a couple of iced teas?”
She nodded her approval.
“Zan’s mother tried to teach me to make spanakopita,” she told him. “I just didn’t have the knack that she did. I can’t work with that thin dough. So I got the brilliant idea of putting it inside a wonton instead.”
“Oooh.” Richard grimaced.
“Yeah. Not so much the brilliant idea I thought it was. So what’s good for lunch?”
“What are you in the mood for?” he asked her.
“I love Greek salads. Is theirs any good?”
“It is. Let’s get a Greek salad for two, and we’ll have them add chilled shrimp to it.”
Cassie picked up her napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry, did I just drool?”
After lunch, they continued their stroll down Dodecanese, stopping here and there to step inside shops and look around. But the boutique that Cassie was seeking wasn’t anywhere in sight, and Richard felt her disappointment when he looked into her eyes.
“I guess it’s just been too long,” she said on their stroll back down the street. “I should have known better, but I had to look.”
“Tell me more about what you’re looking for.”
“It was this large panel of leaded glass, like a stained glass design except without the color. It was about, I don’t know, I guess maybe three feet wide and about two feet in height, and it hung from a chain. For some reason I’ve always remembered it, and I got it in my head that it would be just beautiful hanging in that very high window in my master bath, reflecting the light.”
“That would have been nice,” he agreed.
“I haven’t given up,” she said—it sounded almost like a warning. “Don’t go using the past tense on me just yet.”
Richard didn’t imagine Cassie had much experience in the art of surrender. He had visions of her tromping through the desert in the middle of a sandstorm if she heard about a panel of leaded glass somewhere out there on the other side.
A duo with a lute and violin began to play traditional Greek music across the street, and Cassie and Richard stopped for a couple of minutes to listen. Several elderly men emerged from the restaurant behind them, and they interlocked their arms as they stood shoulder to shoulder and began to dance. Richard remembered seeing Anthony Quinn do a similar dance on the beach in Zorba the Greek.
“Do you think the seniors at the church would like to learn the Sirtáki?” Cassie asked with a grin.
“Nothing about that group would surprise me after their enthusiasm for the hustle.”
Cassie tossed back her head and laughed, and it was melodious in its harmony against the grand, rolling guffaws of the dancing men. They sounded like an underground train making its way toward town, with Cassie as the church bells on the hill above them.
Cassie turned to Richard and slipped him a hopeful smile. “I feel like having something sweet,” she said. “Where can we get some baklava?”
“I know just the place.”
When they’d almost reached the café he had in mind, Cassie let out a scream that she muffled with both hands over her mouth. She began to hop from one foot to the other, and then she pointed at a long plate of leaded glass hanging by a thick chain in a shop window.
“Is that it?”
“That’s it!” she cried, before flying into the store.
By the time Richard stepped up to the counter, she already had the glass in her hands and was telling the clerk the story of how she’d had a piece just like this one in mind. When he saw the price ring up on the register, his gut wrenched.
Well, at least it’s mobile, he thought. She can take it with her when she goes.
Richard hated that Cassie was spending so much on her home when…well…what he really hated was that he had such an enormous secret to keep from her. But she’d thank him in the long run. He hoped.
“Isn’t it just gorgeous, Richard? I can see it hanging in that long, high window in the master bath, reflecting prisms of light. Oh, it’s going to be just beautiful!”
Richard had thought many times since meeting Cassie that she reminded him of the actress Sally Field, and, as she gleefully paid for her magnificent find, she looked to him very much like a young surfing Gidget who’d just taken on her first respectable wave.
“Pack it very carefully,” she suggested to the clerk, “with lots of cardboard on both sides. If I break it before I get it into my window at home, I’ll just cry.”
Isn’t it just the ultimate, Moondoggie? The utter living end? I swear, if it breaks before I get it home, I’ll die. I’ll just dii-eeee!
“Richard Dillon! How are you, buddy?”
“Better than fair, Mick. How about you?”
“About to become a grandfather,” his old friend told him.
“Connie’s having a baby?”
“She sure is. Let me tell you, my friend, nothing ages you faster than that.”
Richard laughed and then shifted the phone against his shoulder. He wished he’d planned out this conversation a little better before dialing his old college chum.
“How are things down in Florida?” Mick Kendrick asked him.
“Sunny and warm. Same forecast, different day.”
Talking about the weather? It began to set in on him how transparent this phone call actually was.
“The last I heard, you were thinking of buying into a new business down there. Any truth to that rumor?”
“Still thinking,” Richard replied. “Hey, listen. I met up with someone who says she knows you.”
“Uh-oh. Who is she, so I can start plotting my deniability?”
“Cassie Constantine.”
“Cassie! You met Cassie?”
“She owns some property close to mine in Holiday,” he revealed. “I was pretty shocked when she told me who she works for.”
“Cassie’s a peach. Been through a lot in the last year or so.”
“So I gather.”
“What a small world,” Mick remarked. “You meeting Cassie.”
“Isn’t it though,” Richard replied. “So, Mick. What can you tell me about her?”
“What do you mean? What are you looking for?”
“I just think she’s interesting,” he said. “Hearing that she works for you, I figured you could tell me a little bit about her.”
“What’re you doing, a background check, Dillon? Or are you interested for some other reason? My administrator hasn’t gone and started applying for jobs in Central Florida, has she?”
Out of hand. How did one phone call get so out of hand so fast?