“She likes it,” Amiee cried. “She likes it. We both do.”
With her throat clogged with what could only be joy, Cassie was more than happy to have her daughter speak for her.
“Cassie?” Steve looked to her for the answer.
She swallowed against the thick lump, met his gaze, smiled, and nodded. Thankfully, she didn’t have to say anything more, as another car pulled up and parked behind Steve’s vehicle.
A man climbed out. He looked vaguely familiar to Cassie, although she didn’t remember where she’d seen him before. He walked directly up to Cassie and extended his hand.
“Stan Pearson,” he said, by means of an introduction. He nodded at Steve.
“Stan will be the construction manager for this project,” Steve explained.
Cassie’s spirits sank and she was barely able to disguise her disappointment. “You won’t be working on the house?” When she’d first met with Habitat, Megan had told her Steve would be heading up her project. She remembered that vividly because after their first meeting she’d intended to ask if there was anyone else. She hadn’t wanted to work with him. And now … well, it wouldn’t be the same without him.
As if reading her thoughts, Stan explained. “Steve will be here. He’s a volunteer, but he knows as much about construction as I do, if not more. I’ll basically leave everything up to him, while I supervise the progress on another home. That said, I’ll be by now and again to check up and see how things are going, the same way I did with the Youngs’ property. Technically, I’m the construction manager, but I sort of leave everything in Steve’s hands.”
So that was where Cassie had seen Stan before. She remembered Steve and him conferring a number of times.
“I’m a paid employee,” Stan went on to explain, “and Steve’s a volunteer, although he sometimes puts in as many hours or more than I do.”
“You’ll be at the Youngs’ on Friday, won’t you?” Stan’s question was directed at Cassie.
She looked to Steve, not understanding. It made sense that after a week away from the construction site she’d missed out on something.
“There’s a dedication ceremony,” Steve explained, and then, looking to Stan, added, “Cassie’s been out all week. She’s the one I mentioned who cut her arm.”
“Oh right. I forgot about that. How’s it healing?”
“No problem,” she said, wanting to make light of her injury “It was only a scratch.”
Steve frowned. “Twelve stitches is hardly a scratch.”
She ignored him. “Steve wouldn’t let me on the job site,” she said, frowning back at him.
“Good. We don’t want you reinjuring your arm,” Stan said, and then, as if looking for a way to change the subject, he added, “I brought along the house plans to show you and your daughter. This is very similar to the Youngs’ plan.”
“You already have plans?” Amiee cried, crowding in next to Cassie. “How many bedrooms?”
“Three,” Stan answered.
“Three,” Amiee cried. “Bedrooms?”
“We always build a minimum of three bedrooms,” Steve explained to her daughter.
“What about if it was one person moving in—would they still get three bedrooms?”
“They would,” Stan said, picking up the conversation. “We do that for resale value. If and when the home is sold, the chance of selling it is much greater with that third bedroom.”
Stan took a tube out of the backseat of his car, uncapped it, and rolled it out across the top of his vehicle, anchoring it with the windshield-wiper blade on one side and his hand on the opposite corner.
“Look it over, Amiee,” Steve advised, as the girl squeezed in front of Cassie and Steve.
“How many square feet?” Cassie asked, as she looked over the floor plan.
“Twelve hundred. These aren’t big homes.”
“Did you happen to notice the size of our apartment?” Cassie asked, half joking. Twelve hundred square feet would feel like a mansion by comparison.
“We just recently added garages,” Stan was saying. “We’re putting the washer and dryer in there.”
“We get a washer and dryer, too?” Amiee was nearly beside herself, rubbing her palms together with sheer joy. “Mom, did you hear? Our own washer and dryer.”
“I heard.”
As if this was more than she could imagine, Amiee asked, “What about a stove with more than two burners and an oven that actually works?”
“All yours,” Steve assured her.
Amiee closed her eyes and tilted back her head. “Have I died and gone to heaven?”
Steve chuckled and looked at Cassie. “Is she always like this?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Clearly amused, Stan collected the design, rolled it up, and reinserted it into the tube. “I’ll see you Friday, then?” he said, looking at Cassie.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Stan drove off and the three of them were left standing by the curb. Steve waited until Stan’s car had disappeared around the corner before he spoke. He looked at Cassie. “Do you two like Mexican food?”
“Love it,” Amiee said, before Cassie could open her mouth to answer.
“Cassie?” Steve apparently wanted to hear it from her.
She shrugged. “Sure.”
Amiee slapped her hands against her sides. “Oh come on, Mom, it’s your favorite and you know it, well, other than a Whopper.”
So much for playing it cool. “What have you got in mind?” she asked. Steve seemed to be smiling a lot lately, she noticed.
“There’s a great Mexican restaurant in downtown Kent.”
“The Lindo?” Cassie knew it well. The food was amazing.
“You’ve been there?” Steve asked.
Cassie nodded. “Once for a beer with the girls from the salon.”
“You have?” Amiee sounded aghast. “You never said anything to me.”
“There are some things I don’t mention,” Cassie told her daughter.
Amiee looked to Steve. “Can I order a cheese enchilada?”
“Of course.”
“Two cheese enchiladas?”
He chuckled and nodded.
“I’m not being greedy, am I?”
“No,” he said. “You’re hungry, and as it happens, so am I.”
Chapter 15
“Mom,” Amiee shouted from her bedroom. “Can I please wear makeup?”
“When you’re thirteen.” Cassie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, applying eyeliner.
“M-o-m.” Her daughter dragged out her name, making three distinct syllables out of a word that contained only one.
“What?”
“You’re treating me like a kid.”
This was an old argument, and one on which Cassie wouldn’t relent. “You are a kid.”
“But this dedication ceremony is a big deal.”
“Tell you what,” Cassie said, adding mascara to her eyelashes. “When our home is dedicated, you can wear mascara and blush.”
Amiee stood in the doorway to the tiny bathroom. “You’re killing me. I hope you know that. Claudia’s been wearing makeup since fifth grade.”
“Good for her.”
Shaking her head with disgust, Amiee asked, “Why are you like this?”
“Are you going to argue with me all day or are you going to get ready to leave?”
A frown darkened her face. “Okay, okay, but on the inside I’m still mad.”
“Not my problem,” Cassie said, giving herself one last look before she turned away from the mirror. Her hair had grown out enough that she could cut it back to what it’d been like before Teresa had entered the styling contest. The purple highlights were gone and she was almost back to her normal bob. She hoped Steve would notice.
No, she didn’t. It didn’t matter if he noticed or not. She hadn’t had it cut for his benefit. At least that was what she kept telling herself. They were friends. He hadn’t so much as held her han
d, which was perfectly fine by her. With the two of them working on the Habitat house, anything personal could get messy. He was smart enough to recognize that and so was she.
“I’m ready,” Amiee announced impatiently. “What’s taking you so long?”
“We’re on our way.” Cassie locked up the apartment and mother and daughter walked together toward her car.
“Do you think Steve will ask us out to dinner after the ceremony?” Amiee asked with what could be interpreted only as hope. The kid thought far too much about her stomach.
“I can guarantee you he won’t.”
“Mom,” Amiee cried. “What have you done?”
“What have I done?” she repeated.
Amiee looked aghast. “Don’t tell me you broke up with Steve?”
Cassie definitely needed to find a means of curtailing her daughter’s imagination. This could get highly embarrassing. “Amiee, the two of us would need to be involved before we could break up. Steve won’t be asking us to dinner because there will be food after the ceremony. Shelly invited us both to stay. I asked if I could bring a dish and she said her extended family was taking care of everything.”
“Is it Mexican food?”
“I don’t know for sure, but probably.” Cassie knew Shelly’s mother was Hispanic.
Seemingly pacified now, Amiee asked, “Was Steve invited?”
“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t. And listen, honey, please don’t embarrass Steve or me, okay?”
Ever expressive, Amiee’s head came back as if stunned. “Embarrass you how?”
“By mentioning that Steve brought us dinner and took us to the Lindo or anything else involving the two of us.”
Her daughter looked at her and then slowly shook her head. “If that’s what you want.” She sounded highly put out.
“I do, and I’m thanking you in advance.”
By the time Cassie arrived there was barely a parking spot to be had. Both sides of the street were lined with cars. The entrance to the house had a big red ribbon with a bow, and tables had been set out front that were piled high with a variety of colorful dishes.
Shelly, George, and their children stood on the small porch. They had a daughter around Amiee’s age and a nine-year-old son. The family was dressed in their finest clothes. Cassie knew that Steve had helped Shelly and George move furniture into their new home earlier in the week. Cassie had spent a couple evenings with Shelly, helping unpack boxes.
The night was lovely, although slightly overcast. Family, friends, and the Habitat staff and volunteers milled around. Cassie caught sight of Steve but didn’t make a point of seeking him out.
Amiee, however, felt no such restraint. She rushed to his side and started chattering away as if it’d been weeks since she’d last seen him. Cassie had no option other than to rescue him from her daughter.
“Why is everyone waiting?” Amiee asked Steve, as Cassie approached. “Shouldn’t they cut the ribbon? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
“The priest hasn’t arrived yet.” Steve’s eyes went straight to Cassie’s and he smiled. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” His intense look flustered her and she quickly added, “I hope Amiee isn’t bothering you.”
“Not at all,” he assured her.
Cassie felt his gentle gaze sweep over her. “I like your haircut.”
“Thanks.” She flushed slightly and raised her hand to the back of her head before she took her daughter by the shoulder and gently steered her away from Steve.
Father Colchado arrived. He stood with the Young family and delivered a beautiful blessing, praying over the home, asking God to stand guard over this house and this beautiful family. Before the ribbon was cut, George said a few words.
“Shelly and I need to thank a number of people who were instrumental in this project. First we want to thank the local chapter of the Kiwanis Club for making this home possible for our family. Although Shelly and I have been married thirteen years, this is our first home. It gives me such pride to bring my family into this house, knowing that I helped build it with my own two hands. Shelly, too. My wife, I learned, is as good at construction as she is at making homemade tortillas.
“We both owe a debt to Steve Brody. We couldn’t have done it without him. Steve was with Shelly and me every step of the way. He was patient and generous with his time.”
“And I want to give a special thanks to Cassie Carter,” Shelly added shyly.
“Yes, Cassie, too,” George added, “plus all the other volunteers who stepped in and worked alongside of us to give us this home.”
Wearing a huge smile, George looked to his wife, who held the scissors. “You ready?”
Shelly beamed and nodded. “Ready.”
Shelly cut the ribbon and it fell away. Everyone cheered and applauded, and a sense of joy and excitement filled the air as people exchanged hugs. George led the first group in for a tour.
Cassie and Amiee followed the crowd into the house.
“This is what our house will look like when it’s built?” Amiee asked Cassie, staying close to her side and eyeing each room.
“Yes.”
“Mom,” she whispered, in what sounded like awe, “what are we going to do with all this room?”
“Oh, I think we’ll find a way of filling it up.” Cassie hid her amusement. By almost anyone’s standards this was a moderately sized home, but to Amiee it seemed huge.
After the blessing and the tour, Shelly and her family brought out paper plates and plastic forks and set up chairs around the yard. A line quickly formed for the buffet. By the time Cassie and Amiee went through, there weren’t any places left to sit.
Cassie paused and scanned the area and then saw Steve motion to her. “I’ll put the tailgate down on the truck and you and Amiee can sit there,” he suggested.
She hesitated and then realized she was being foolish. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“I don’t know if Mom wants me to tell you this or not, but I think you’re cool,” Amiee said, giving him a huge grin.
“Why, thank you.” The tailgate was high off the ground, and Steve took Amiee by the waist and effortlessly lifted her up. He looked at Cassie and raised his eyebrows.
“I weigh a bit more,” she assured him.
Steve laughed under his breath and said, “I think I can manage.” While Amiee held Cassie’s plate, Steve placed his hands at Cassie’s waist. She automatically set her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her off the ground.
He held her at eye level for just a moment longer than necessary, and in that brief space of time, their gazes locked. She read in him pain and longing and then wondered if what she saw was a reflection of what was in her own eyes. He blinked and it felt as though a shaft of electricity shot through Cassie. She sucked in her breath, convinced Steve felt it, too. When he set her down on the tailgate it was all she could do to breathe normally again.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Amiee asked Steve.
The spell was broken, and frankly, Cassie was grateful. Though if Steve had chosen to kiss her right there in front of all these people, she wouldn’t have objected. In fact, she would have welcomed it. The shock of how badly she wanted his kiss unnerved her almost as much as the fear of making a public spectacle of herself.
“I’ll get a plate now,” Steve said, and he, too, appeared relieved that the moment was over.
The few minutes he was away gave Cassie time to compose herself. If Amiee noticed anything was amiss, she didn’t mention it.
Steve returned in short order with his plate loaded down with Shelly’s and her mother’s cooking. The crowd had dwindled to about half of what it had been for the dedication ceremony. Steve leaned against the tailgate as he ate, crossing his ankles.
“I heard you helped move the Youngs’ furniture,” Cassie commented, thinking that was a safe subject.
“Yeah, they didn’t have that much. We were able to make it all in one trip, which was easier than m
aking three or four smaller loads.” He hesitated and jerked his head up to stare at Cassie.
“What?” she asked, taken aback by the change in him.
“The truck.”
“Yes?”
“I have a big truck for business. I don’t use it that often, but when I need it it’s there.”
Cassie still didn’t get the connection. “Then I imagine you’ve helped other families move.”
“Yes, and furthermore, I can help you. Didn’t I hear that you have a load of furniture that needs to be brought to Seattle from Spokane?”
Cassie pressed her hand against her heart, sure it was about to pound straight through her chest. She’d given up hope of ever having the opportunity to collect her parents’ things. The time was fast approaching when she would have no option but to let it all go.
“Cassie?”
“Yes … yes, I do, but once all the furniture is in Seattle, I don’t have any place to store it.” This was another complication that had plagued her.
“I can keep it for you,” he volunteered. “I have a warehouse and it wouldn’t be a problem to set aside whatever you have there. Why don’t you see if we can do it this weekend?”
Cassie was overwhelmed. She hardly knew what to say. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Mom,” Amiee cried, “why are you being so stubborn? Of course you can.”
“Of course you can,” Steve echoed.
“But it’s short notice and my sister—”
Steve removed his cell from where it was clipped on his belt and handed it to her. “Call her and find out.”
“But Amiee’s got an all-day track meet tomorrow—”
Her daughter cut her off. “I can go with Claudia and her mom; they won’t mind.”
Steve raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
She couldn’t refuse his generous offer, not when he’d made it effortless. She should be grateful. What was it her mother used to say about looking a gift horse in the mouth? Why she would even hesitate was beyond her own understanding.
“I’ll phone my sister,” she said.
“Aren’t you going to thank Steve?” Amiee asked.
“Yes, of course. I’m grateful, Steve, really.” But if that was the case, it certainly didn’t explain why her stomach had twisted into tight knots.
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