Yeah, a severe case of disgust. For sure he was allergic to Priscilla Castro.
“No, I’m fine,” he said as he tightened the slip nut.
There, done. He backed out from under the sink and almost knocked her over. “Sorry,” he said, hurrying to put away his wrench.
“So, it’s all fixed? Already?”
“Good to go.” He snapped his toolbox shut and stood.
“Well, that was fast. Let me get my checkbook.”
He didn’t want to stay in this over-perfumed spiderweb any longer than he had to. “That’s okay. This one’s on the house.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” she cooed.
“No problem,” he said and began to make for the front door and freedom.
She was fast, though, and managed to get ahead of him, slowing down his escape. There was no getting away, short of pushing her aside and bolting.
“How are you getting along?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“I’d be lonely all by myself in a new town.”
“I’m not exactly alone. My son lives here.” They were at the door now. He clutched the doorknob.
She put a hand on his arm. “Yes, but he has his own life. Are you sure I can’t pay you? Some way?”
She was closing in for the kill. “Uh, Priscilla, I’m not in the market for, uh, anything.”
She stared at him, disbelieving.
“Try a different plumber next time,” he added, then opened the door and made his bid for freedom.
He heard the door slam after him and smiled in relief. That was one predatory female he probably wouldn’t have to worry about again.
He was rolling into Gerhardt’s and thinking he really needed to start looking for someplace of his own when Dan called. “Don’t make any plans for Saturday night, Dad. Charley’s having a party.”
He’d wanted to hike up in the mountains and camp overnight.
“Command performance,” Dan added. “It’s a birthday party for Cass.”
“What is she, all of forty?”
“Older than that,” Dan said. “I forget. Forty-six or something.”
Still, way too young. “I had plans.”
“Come on, Dad. Charley will be pissed at me if you don’t show up.”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” Grant said. He had to admit, he liked the idea of seeing Cass Wilkes again. He liked the idea of Cass Wilkes, period. If only they were closer in age.
Maybe he should go camping. Far away from temptation.
* * *
Her kids Amber and Willie came in for the Memorial Day weekend festivities on Friday night, and Cass was ready for them with lasagna and French bread along with the requisite Caesar salad and chocolate cake for dessert, all family favorites. Dani and her little family would arrive later the next day, in time for the birthday party.
The very sight of her children was tonic for a mother’s soul. Willie had shot up to six feet now and was still as skinny as ever. He was majoring in environmental science and resource management and would, hopefully, land a good job once he graduated. Amber, who’d been the designated gray-hair-giver of the family, had grown into a responsible young woman. With a nose ring and a tattoo. But it was a cupcake tattoo and Cass took that as a compliment. She just didn’t like the fact that said tattoo resided on her daughter’s lower back, which qualified it for tramp-stamp status. But oh, well. Artistic expression and all that.
Amber fell instantly in love with the newest member of the family. “Oh, look at this sweetie,” she said, picking up the cat. Lady Gray draped herself over Amber’s shoulder and began purring. “What’s her name?”
“Useless,” said Willie in disgust.
“That’s mean,” Amber scolded.
“Her name’s Lady Gray,” Cass said. “Don’t listen to my rude son,” she told her kitty, petting the cat’s soft head.
“Get a dog, Mom,” Willie told her. “Something big, like a German shepherd, to protect you.”
“As if I need protecting in Icicle Falls. From what, some kid playing mailbox baseball?”
“Hey, the town’s growing.”
Yeah, criminals were moving in right and left.
“Well, I think Lady Gray is really sweet,” Amber said, rubbing her cheek against the cat.
“She’s good company,” Cass said, “and I need someone in the house besides me now that you ingrates have all abandoned me.”
Willie snorted but Amber looked concerned.
After dinner, her son went out with some of his old buddies from the football team, but Amber opted to stay home with Cass. “Do you get lonely, Mom?” she asked as Cass popped corn to go with the movie they’d picked up at Redbox.
“Now, why would you think that?” Oh, yeah. “I was joking earlier.”
“But you’re all by yourself. You could date, you know. I mean, Daddy remarried.”
“If I find a cute boy toy, maybe I’ll consider it. Come on. Let’s go watch our movie.”
She and her daughter settled on the couch to watch Matt Damon in action. It was so good having her daughter home. Until, halfway through the movie, one of Amber’s friends called. Cass knew once the credits rolled, her baby would be rolling out the door to hang with her friends.
And why not? Most of them were home for the weekend. Of course they’d all want to see each other.
Still, she hated to share. Did the other parents feel the same way? Theoretically, kids came home to see their parents. In reality, Mom and Dad often took a backseat.
“Do you mind if I go out for a while after the movie?” Amber asked.
Yes, darn it. I want you all to myself. “Of course not,” Cass lied. That was how it went with grown kids. You shared. If you got them to yourself for even a short amount of time, you felt lucky.
Amber made her plans and Cass put Matt back in action. Once the action was over she, like Willie, was gone, and the house was quiet. “You’ll have them all tomorrow,” Cass consoled herself. She sat up awhile longer and read her latest issue of Bon Appétit. Then she and Lady Gray went to bed.
“Our life is good,” she informed the cat. So what if she was alone a lot of the time? She didn’t need a man.
Her subconscious thought differently, and in her dreams it sent her to a giant toy store filled with—oh, good grief—giant Ken dolls. (Did they even make Ken dolls anymore?) And toy soldiers. And...what was this? Anatomically realistic inflatable men.
“We hear you’re lonely,” called one of the inflatables, bouncing down from the shelf to sling an arm around her.
Now a giant Ken doll was on her other side. “You need a boy toy?”
“No, no. I have a cat.”
“Your daughter thinks you need a man,” said Mr. Inflatable.
“We think you need a man,” said Ken, raising her hand to his plastic lips. “How about it, baby?”
“I’m fine. And really,” she said, “should you be cheating on Barbie like this?”
Here came a toy soldier. “Hey, I’ve got a friend.”
He turned stiffly and gestured with a metal arm and she looked to see Grant Masters approaching. He was wearing jeans and a tool belt. No shirt. Sigh.
“You know, I think what you need is a mature man,” he said to her.
“Me, too,” she agreed.
He smiled, drew her up against him and licked her face. Gosh, his tongue was as rough as sandpaper. He licked her again and meowed.
Meowing? Wait a minute.
Cass opened her eyes to find Lady Gray making her presence known. “Really? Just when things were getting good.”
It was almost 6:00 a.m. She’d slept late. She cleaned up and went downstairs to bake cinnamon rolls. She thought about her dream as she made dough. Maybe it
was a sign.
Yeah, of a sick mind. Inflatable men. Eew.
While the rolls were rising, she got busy putting together an egg casserole. She’d gotten the recipe from Olivia Claussen, and it had quickly become a family favorite. Cinnamon rolls, egg casserole, sausage and cut-up melons. The kids would be happy with this breakfast. Of course, by the time they got up to eat, it would be closer to lunchtime.
Once breakfast was assembled, she puttered around in the kitchen some more, making ginger cookies for her son and a batch of brownies for the girls. Dani, who was also a baker, would most likely bring along her specialty, oatmeal-M&M cookies. There was never a lack of food when her family got together. The kids ate like locusts. And all stayed skinny. Lucky for them they took after their father rather than their mother, who could put on a pound simply by looking at a cookie.
“No cookies for you,” she told herself.
She’d been trying to behave. She’d sent the rest of the shortcake home with Grant and had been eating nothing but salads and disgusting egg-white omelets. The torture was starting to pay off, though, and she’d actually lost a couple of pounds. She’d hardly be svelte when she went to Willie’s graduation, but she’d still feel better about herself.
With all the weekend festivities, she was in danger of gaining back what she lost. After all, she’d have to eat cake at her party tonight. Sunday they’d be picnicking at the park, along with half the town, and that would mean fried chicken and potato salad. Beth Mallow would bring cherry pie, Janice Lind her prizewinning cake. Cass would have to sew her lips shut before leaving the house.
“Cinnamon rolls,” Willie said happily when he came down for breakfast. “All right!”
“And egg casserole and sausage,” Cass said as he kissed her cheek. “I’ll heat you up some.”
“Man, I love coming home,” he said, making his old mom glow inside. She was going to be sorry when he moved out for good.
It was what kids did, though. You raised them to be strong and independent, and they left and started their own lives. And that was how it should be. Meanwhile, she’d enjoy them while they were here.
There were more to enjoy by midmorning when Dani and her husband, Mike, arrived with Cass’s two-year-old granddaughter, Emma.
“Maw-Maw,” cried little Emma, running to her, arms outstretched, dark curls bouncing.
Cass swept the toddler up in her arms. “Hello there, my darling. Have you missed your maw-maw?”
The child nodded and hugged Cass’s neck. “My maw-maw.”
“I sure am,” Cass told her. “Do you want a cookie?”
“Cookie!” Emma crowed.
“Brownies?” asked Dani.
“Of course,” Cass said. “And ginger cookies. You guys get settled and Miss Emma and I will go have a cookie and some milk.” Well, Emma would have a cookie.
She ate it in record time. “More, Maw-Maw.”
“How about some milk instead?”
Emma rocked eagerly in her chair. “Milk, please.”
“Aren’t you polite?”
“Cookie, Maw-Maw,” she added.
Her mother was in the kitchen now. “You had one cookie. That’s enough,” she said, and Emma turned into a tiny thundercloud.
“I want cookie,” she whined.
“I know. Later. There’ll be lots of cookies at Grandma’s party.”
“I want cookie.” The statement became more insistent.
“One is never enough,” Cass said. And that, of course, was part of her problem.
“It is when it’s nap time. I thought she’d sleep in the car on the way over, but she didn’t.”
Now, because obviously no one was getting the message, the statement was accompanied by tears.
“Okay, one more,” Dani said. “But only if you stop crying.”
The crying hiccuped to a halt.
“Give her half, Mom. Then we’re going to take a nap so we can enjoy the party,” she informed her daughter. “Okay?”
“Okay, Mama.”
“That’s my girl,” Dani said as Cass handed over a final bite.
The bite was gone and the milk was gone, so Dani took her daughter up to settle her in the crib Cass kept in the guest room. She passed Mike, her husband, on the way out.
“Do I have another taker for some brownies?” Cass asked. “Also, I’ve got egg casserole left.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Mom,” Mike said and settled at the table.
Will joined him and, a moment later, Amber was there, too. Cass brought over plates and the whole pan of brownies, knowing they’d be gone within minutes. By the time she’d fed Mike, Dani was at the table and hungry for some casserole.
“You sure you want that last brownie?” Willie teased her as she reached for it. “Looks like you’re getting fat.”
“Yes,” she retorted. “And I’m not getting fat. I’m working on Mom’s birthday present.”
“Birthday present?” Cass echoed.
“Baby number two,” Mike said proudly. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
“Congratulations, you two!” Cass cried and hurried to hug them both.
“You having a boy this time?” Willie asked Mike.
“We don’t know yet.”
“Make it a boy, sis. The men in this family are getting outnumbered.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” she said and bit into her brownie.
With the food consumed, the guys went outside to play some one-on-one basketball, leaving Cass and her daughters to visit.
“When’s the baby due?” Cass asked.
“December.”
“A baby for Christmas.” Cass could hardly wait.
“I wouldn’t want to have my birthday at Christmas,” said Amber.
“Why not?” her sister demanded.
“Because everybody gives you one present and tells you it’s your Christmas and birthday combined.”
“And you know this how?”
“Don’t you remember Shelby Digler? Her birthday was December fifteenth and her family was always doing that to her.”
“Well, our baby’s due at the beginning of the month, so that won’t happen.”
“We don’t care when the baby comes,” Cass said. “Just so long as he or she is healthy.”
“You should’ve waited to get pregnant later,” said Amber.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Cass said sternly. “When it’s your turn, you can show us how it’s done.”
“I’m not going to have kids,” Amber said. “I want to have fun and travel.”
“You’ll change your mind once you’re married,” Dani told her.
“Kids are great,” Cass said. “Look how much fun I have with you guys when you’re here.”
“Yeah, but we’re not here that much now,” Amber said. And that led her back to the subject of the night before. “Don’t you think Mom should start dating?” she asked her sister. “She’s lonely.”
“I am not lonely,” Cass insisted.
“You should, Mom,” Dani said. “We’re all moved out now, so why not?”
Cass flashed on an image of a giant Ken doll.
Yeah, why not?
Would Grant be at the party tonight?
Chapter Twenty
It turned out that Cass didn’t have to wait until the party to see Grant. Along with every other person in town, he was at the Saturday-afternoon parade, which always kicked off the weekend festivities. It was the same every year, featuring the Icicle Falls High School marching band, as well as bands from Wenatchee and Yakima. The local VFW was represented, its members driving vintage jeeps. The police and fire departments showed up with lights flashing and sirens blaring, and the sheriff’s department made its prese
nce known, too. The local rodeo queens added glamour, dressed in fancy Western attire and riding their mounts, leaving all the little horse-crazy girls with something to aspire to. They could also enjoy the show of horseflesh when members of the equestrian club rode past. Spectators could always count on two floats, one with Miss Icicle Falls and her court, and the one bearing the current Lady of the Autumn Leaves (a woman honored every year for her community service). These were followed by the mayor, perched in the back of a convertible and throwing candy to the children. (You could never start courting voters early enough.) Members of the local gymnastics club cartwheeled their way down Center Street, followed by the German Club, dressed in their lederhosen and stopping occasionally to play their alpenhorns. Like some of the other clubs and floats, they had little to do with the purpose of the holiday, but when you were putting together a small-town parade, you took whoever was willing to participate.
People lined the street to wave flags and cheer for friends, which was what Cass was doing when she spotted Grant on the other side of the street, standing next to Charley and his two sons. Griffin was there, too, smiling up at Grant’s younger son. They were spending as much time talking to each other and laughing as they were watching the parade.
As for Grant, he looked bored. She couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t the most exciting parade on the planet. But, like everything the people of Icicle Falls did, it was heartfelt.
Come Monday, the little cemetery would be filled with people, and the laughter would have subsided to reverence as family members laid flowers on the graves of those they’d lost to war.
For today and tomorrow, though, it was patriotism and celebration. After the parade, people would visit the various arts-and-crafts booths set up in the park. They’d hit the street where the food vendors were and buy soda and hot dogs, deep-fried Twinkies, Belgian waffles and, of course, chocolate concoctions from Sweet Dreams. They’d visit with friends, gossip and generally enjoy themselves, along with the strangers who came to town to soak up the German flavor, shop and hike the mountain trails.
Cass envisioned herself and Grant strolling past the vendors’ booths, checking out the work of the local artisans. He’d probably really enjoy seeing what the chainsaw wood-carvers had to offer.
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