The House Guests

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The House Guests Page 13

by Emilie Richards


  Not worms at all. Something treasured and valuable. Something he had returned at the first opportunity. She had an awful feeling that when she asked him, that was the story he was going to tell her. If he ever spoke to her again.

  Apologies were not her thing. For most of her life she’d only rarely needed to make them. She’d tried not to hurt people, and when she screwed up, people had quickly forgiven her.

  Who had she become? This morning in a dream had her father warned her that she was heading in the wrong direction? Did she need his warning?

  Didn’t she already know it was true?

  14

  AFTER MARRYING MARK, CASSIE had given up her job at Riverbend Community, where they’d met. Bonding with her adorable new stepdaughter felt more important than coordinating events or writing news articles presenting the hospital in a favorable light. The gift shop, her most important project, was finally running well, and she was ready for more intimate challenges.

  Savannah had needed a hands-on mother, and Cassie had been ready for a daughter. She and Mark had expected to add new little Westmores to the family, but that had never happened. Savannah’s status as an only child had made her that much more precious. But twelve years of raising her hadn’t done a thing for Cassie’s résumé.

  “I’ve included all my volunteer positions,” Cassie said, as she handed a job application to the librarian behind the counter at the Tarpon Springs Library. The young woman had promised she’d file it in case any marketing jobs for libraries became available in the county.

  The librarian’s gaze flicked over the top page. “Look as far afield as you can. And be open to starting positions.”

  Cassie tried to imagine a long drive to work for a job that probably paid little more than minimum wage. She was still the slowest driver on the road, and she needed health benefits, a decent salary and daytime hours so she could keep an eye on her daughter after school.

  And if she found a job, it wouldn’t leave her the time she needed to pursue the mystery surrounding her dead husband.

  She thanked the young woman and prepared to leave when she saw a familiar face. Amber, in a flowered shirt and rust-colored capris, was sitting under the etched glass panels above one of the library’s computers.

  Since Cassie’s return from Orlando two days ago, they’d only seen each other in passing, and Amber had seemed preoccupied. Cassie’s own life was already too complicated, and the last thing she wanted was to be more involved in the Blairs’ troubles. But how possible was it to share a house and not be some part of each other’s lives?

  Amber looked up from the screen and saw her. She looked back down, and after a moment the screen went blank. She stood and Cassie met her in the middle between them.

  “You didn’t have to stop what you were doing,” Cassie said softly. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

  “I was about to leave and get some lunch.”

  “I just dropped off an application, in case jobs come up through the library. I haven’t had lunch, either. Would you like to join me?” She noticed Amber’s hesitation and could guess the reason. “I’m going to the Kouzina for a gyro so it’s my treat. Yiayia always gives me the family discount, whether I want one or not. I can drive and I’ll drop you back here to pick up your car.”

  Amber smiled without enthusiasm. “That would be nice.”

  In the car Cassie wondered if Amber had agreed because she felt obligated to the woman who was essentially her landlady. She tried to turn the tables. “This is my thank-you for taking Savannah to school Monday. And for supervising.”

  “I guess she didn’t tell you.”

  Cassie imagined a catastrophe. “She doesn’t tell me much. What happened?”

  “I only took her in the morning. She found her own ride home. I had an emergency meeting at work, and she didn’t want to wait or walk home with Will. But she was home when I got back, or I’d have gone looking for her.”

  They parked in the Kouzina’s lot and Cassie turned off the engine. “Emergency doesn’t sound good.”

  They had rounded the corner to enter through the front door when Amber elaborated. “The restaurant’s closing. We never recovered after the bad publicity. People were afraid to eat there, even after the owner did everything to make sure it was the healthiest restaurant in town. By the time diners started filtering back in, it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too. And now it’s going to be longer before I can move out of your house. I hate to do that to you.”

  As they neared the corner, music wafted through the Kouzina’s open doorway. The building was two-story with a derelict apartment taking up the top floor, but between the poor condition, and the noise and smells from downstairs, the apartment wasn’t easy to rent. It was vacant now and had been for months. Yiayia refused to spend the needed money for renovations.

  Today half a dozen tables on a covered porch were empty, because they wouldn’t be completely out of the sun until later in the day. Upbeat Greek music played from the speakers. As they went inside, she was comforted by the familiar shabby mural of a Santorini hillside covering one long wall and the goddess statues flanking the doorway. Tables were covered with blue vinyl cloths topped with white paper and an arrangement of plastic daisies in the center of each, paired with a bottle of olive oil.

  They were greeted and seated by a pretty young woman with a long dark braid who gave them both a warm smile. “I’m Dorian’s older sister, Maria Sostratos, a Costas a couple of generations back,” she said, when it was clear Cassie hadn’t placed her. “But don’t hold that against me.”

  Before hightailing it back to college in Tallahassee, Dorian had apologized profusely for taking Savannah’s word that all was well on the night of the party. “Savannah was at her worst that weekend,” Cassie said, not looking at Amber.

  “I’m filling in for Nani today. Her baby came early. A little girl.”

  Cassie remembered a pregnant young woman at the Thanksgiving celebration, someone else she should probably know. “I hope they’re okay.”

  “Great, but she’s going to be super busy for a while.” She seated Amber and Cassie with no problem, since the restaurant was only half-full, went to fetch ice water and menus, and promised to send a server before she headed back up to the hostess stand.

  “Are you related to everybody in town?” Amber asked.

  “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it? When I lived in New York, I was completely invisible. Of course being Yiayia’s only granddaughter makes me more visible because she’s so well-known.”

  “The only granddaughter?”

  “Yiayia had two children, my father only had one child, me, and my aunt Roxanne has one son. Most of the family comes from my grandfather’s side. Yiayia was born on Kalymnos but Pappou was one of fifteen children from a local sponge diving family. A lot of her extended family still live in Greece, but they visit when they can, and send children and grandchildren to stay. Which is why it’s so confusing.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  They waited until another unfamiliar woman came to take their orders. Amber asked for the chicken souvlaki and Cassie the gyro. Both women ordered iced tea and waited for their server to leave before Cassie cocked her head in question. “Do you know what you’re going to do now that Dine Eclectic is closing?”

  “I’ve already started applying to other restaurants.” Amber hesitated, as if deciding how much to share. “It’s sad, because I came here especially for that job. I was the assistant general manager, with a promise I’d be made the general manager in a year. It was a step up careerwise from floor manager and server. After the meeting Monday the owner offered me a job at one of his other restaurants, but the closest is West Palm Beach. I want Will to stay here. He’s doing so well at Coastal Winds, and his best shot at a college scholarship is to stay until he graduates.”


  “Like you needed this.”

  Amber waved that away. “I just hit the bottom of the employment barrel again, but at least I know how to land.”

  “So we’re both on a job search.”

  “Good servers are always in demand here, although maybe not at the really popular restaurants. What about you?”

  Cassie explained her job history. “The thing is...” She took her first sip of the iced tea their server had dropped off. “Working full-time, if I can find a job, and then trying to ride herd on Savannah won’t be easy. You have Will, so you know, although I hesitate to equate the two. But truthfully Savannah used to be a lot like Will. She did well in school. She was happy at home. She wasn’t perfect, but we could talk, and she would see my side of things even when she didn’t agree. Now we never get that far.” She paused. “She used to call me Mom. I miss that. Gen, her birth mom, has never really been in her life for more than a week or two a year. I was the go-to mom, the one who took care of her and held her hand when she was sad or angry. These days she’s angry a lot, mostly at me.”

  “It has to be hard for her. I take it she and her father were close?”

  Cassie wasn’t sure how the conversation had turned to her problems, and she wasn’t sure who was at fault. “They were. Mark’s death is obviously the worst thing for Savannah. But the problems started a while ago. I won’t bore you—”

  “Please do. Misery loves company.” Amber waited as their server delivered their sandwiches, then she leaned forward. “Maybe it will help me understand Savannah better. She’s clearly having a bad time. Will says...” She stopped.

  “What?”

  “Well, not a lot since Monday, actually. He’s avoiding her, like she developed smallpox. Something happened, which may be why he walked home without her. But whatever it is, he’s not talking.”

  Cassie mulled that over. “What did he say before that?”

  “What you probably already know. That she’s not doing homework, and she’s in danger of failing a couple of classes.”

  “She told him that?”

  “I doubt that, but people know they live in the same house. Maybe other kids or a teacher?”

  This wasn’t news, it was just more corroboration for what Cassie already knew. “I’m getting regular phone calls from teachers and Miss Simmons at the school. She’s the assistant principal for tenth grade. I took away Savannah’s cell phone after she skipped a few classes. I make her sit at the dining room table at night to do homework, but the guidance counselor, her teachers? They don’t see it. It’s like she wants to fail, like she wants to prove something, only I don’t know what.”

  They were interrupted by clapping and a “there you are!”

  Cassie got to her feet just in time to fall into Yiayia’s arms for a hug. “You were going to eat lunch and not see me?”

  “Of course I was going to see you.”

  Yiayia released her and bent to hug Amber, who looked surprised but pleased. “And your pretty roommate is with you?” She addressed Amber. “I looked up your name after our Thanksgiving. In ancient Greece the word for amber was elektron and some people think it came from the Phoenicians. So your name means beautiful light, like electricity. Perfect for you.”

  Cassie suspected something had been lost in translation, but she loved the smile that Yiayia’s explanation brought to Amber’s face. “Our lunch looks delicious, Yiayia.”

  “Many more people will be coming. We will fill up soon.”

  “Is lunch a busy time for you?”

  Yiayia drew herself up. “Busy enough.”

  Obviously the restaurant was not busy, and no one was streaming in, even though it was closer to one than twelve. “You make the best gyros. Everybody knows.”

  “And no one makes salads like we do. I will send out our best horiatiki. And Greek fries. Nobody makes those the way we do, either.” She bustled back toward the kitchen, and Cassie took her seat again.

  “Actually everybody makes them exactly the way the Kouzina makes them,” she said, leaning across the table. “Which is why only half the restaurant is full today. People come in if they’re family or loyal customers. Or if they’re visitors who get hungry as they walk by. But there’s nothing to draw them in, is there?”

  Amber looked sympathetic. “You started to say something about problems before your husband died?”

  “This can’t be interesting.”

  “Relevant, though, and honestly? Somewhat familiar. Not because of Will, but because I was a rebellious teenager, too. I knew what was right for everybody, even when it wasn’t.”

  Cassie gazed at the other woman. Amber had the dewy, rose-tinted skin of a woman in her twenties, but Cassie knew she had to be older. She wore little makeup, but even the minimum effort succeeded because she was naturally lovely. She’d clearly had a difficult life, but it didn’t show.

  “You must have been very young when you had Will,” she said without thinking. When Amber didn’t pick up on that, Cassie backtracked to her own history. “Savannah was a student at a private girl’s academy in Manhattan from the time she started school until the last year we lived there.”

  She debated how much to say but decided on a condensed version. “The year before Mark died, things were tense at home. He was injured in a sailing accident, and it took time to recover, so I thought that was probably why his mood spiraled downward. Mark hated illness. It seemed like a personal affront. Anyway the problems continued after he was back on his feet. Something was going on with him, and I think Savannah felt the tension. She started acting out, and for the first time she seemed to be having trouble at school. Then one day Mark and I were called in to see the headmistress. Savannah had been expelled for fighting and injuring another student. The school had a no tolerance policy for physical fights. The headmistress had no choice.”

  “What a setback.”

  “It was awful. That was midyear, so she finished at a public school. Then her father died in July. You can imagine how that affected her. Two huge losses, back to back.”

  A large salad arrived, made with cucumbers, tomatoes, red onions, olives and a square of feta on top. Cassie often made horiatiki at home. The fries were sprinkled with feta and Greek seasoning.

  Amber took one from the plate between them and bit into it, and Cassie followed suit. “Do you know why she was fighting?”

  “Savannah claims she was protecting another student, a younger girl named Liza, who was being bullied. She said one of the really popular girls, a star student and former friend named Gillie, kept shoving Liza and ridiculing her, and Savannah got sick of nobody doing anything about it. Gillie’s parents were big donors to the building fund, and Savannah claims that teachers looked the other way and let Gillie get away with things nobody else would have been allowed to.”

  “Could that be true?”

  Cassie didn’t know. A part of her still wanted to believe her daughter, despite all evidence to the contrary. “Mark said it wasn’t at all likely, that I just wanted Savannah’s version of events to be true, so I weighed the facts to point that way. He said the term for what I was doing was ‘motivated reasoning,’ and it didn’t help Savannah to deny the truth.”

  “He was a psychiatrist, right?”

  Cassie smiled a little. “Can you tell? And one with little patience by that point. Savannah said that when Gillie started in on Liza that day, she grabbed her and pushed her away from Liza, and unfortunately Gillie fell against a stone wall. Her head snapped back, and she was knocked unconscious.”

  “Badly hurt?”

  Cassie really didn’t know. “There’s some dispute. Mark talked to the doctor who examined her. Apparently there was no bump, no bruising, no signs of a concussion. Gillie may have pretended she was hurt to get Savannah into more trouble, but it didn’t really matter. Savannah told her side of the story, and not one
of the girls who witnessed the fight, including Liza, agreed that’s how it had happened. Everyone said Savannah pushed Gillie because they were arguing about plans for a school dance. Four girls to one. Out Savannah went.”

  “Earlier you said she claims, not claimed. She’s sticking to her story?”

  Cassie spooned extra tzatziki sauce on her gyro and then added fries for good measure. She was impressed with how carefully Amber listened. Roxanne was the only one who had listened to her like this since Mark’s death, and she was warmed by the attention.

  “I doubt she’s willing to admit she was at fault, even now. Besides it’s too late to make a difference.”

  “Did you stick up for her? Did her father?”

  “What kind of parents make excuses and let a child get away with something like that?”

  “I can see that.”

  “Anyway, from the time she left Pfeiffer Grant until now, Savannah’s made sure no one has a reason to question that she injured another girl. She’s making a career out of injuring people, you among them.”

  Amber shook her head, which surprised Cassie. “Cassie, I don’t see that. I’ve never had the feeling that Savannah took the zipper pouch to injure me or anybody else. I’m no expert, but I think if she’d known how to return it, she probably would have. She was with friends, and I think they egged each other on to throw that party, like girls do at that age. Like the girls probably did the day Savannah pushed Gillie.”

  “That’s very nice of you.”

  “I think she’s paying a big price.”

  “Maybe what she’s going through will help.” Cassie looked up from her sandwich, which was already half gone. “And for what it’s worth? I don’t think having you and Will living with us is a big price, even though it felt awkward at first. Don’t worry about moving out right away. This arrangement could work for both of us when we find jobs. We can watch out for each other and each other’s kids. We’ll probably be in and out at different times. It was a relief on Monday to know you’d be doing school transportation.”

 

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