by Gayle Roper
“Thank you, Jenn,” Cass said around the lump in her throat.
Jared rose next. “Dan told us we could only list five things because otherwise this could go on all night.”
Dan. Cass looked down the table at him, but he was watching Jared like a proud papa. She forced her eyes to her nephew.
“Number one.” Jared grinned at Cass. “You like Paulie. Not everybody’s smart enough to see what a great guy he is.” He shot a look at Jenn who smiled sweetly, insincerely back.
Cass nodded. “Paulie’s special. One of a kind.”
“You can say that again,” muttered Jenn who had the grace to blush when Jared and Cass both turned to look at her. “Sorry.”
Jared cleared his throat. “Number two: You opened your home to us at great inconvenience. Three, you come to all my football games and cheer like crazy. Four, you keep the cereal shelf stocked with all my favorites. And last but far from least, you live as a Christian should both in your private life and in your business life.”
“Oh, Jared, thank you,” Cass whispered through tears. “That was wonderful.”
Mike and Brenna excused themselves and headed for the kitchen as a pleased Jared grabbed the appetizer dishes and followed. They returned shortly with medallions of filet mignon topped with crab imperial, roasted potatoes, and green beans almondine.
The food was delicious, and conversation hopped all around the table. Cass listened in a rosy glow. No Home Depot cards tonight. No TV Guide. This was a real birthday party.
When they all sat before empty plates, Brenna stood. “I appreciate several things about Cass, too. One is that she gave me a job. Without it I wouldn’t be eating this wonderful dinner tonight.”
They laughed together, and Cass caught Dan’s eye. She knew he was the finances behind this wonderful evening, undoubtedly even the small fortune Jenn had spent on candles.
Thank you, she mouthed.
You’re welcome, he mouthed back, then winked.
Cass’s heart leapt as she turned her attention back to Brenna.
“I also appreciate what a fine business Cass has built, all with her own grit and determination. SeaSong is wonderful. And last, I know she cares about me.” Brenna blinked rapidly. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “And that means more than you’ll ever know.”
With that, she sat abruptly, then jumped to her feet. She grabbed a pair of dirty plates and hurried to the kitchen. Mike rose quickly, grabbed a couple more, and followed her, a frown wrinkling his thin face.
Silence hovered until Dan rose. “I’m the dessert man. Would you like a cup of coffee, Cass?”
She nodded, overwhelmed by it all. She watched as Dan poured her coffee. Was he going to say anything about her? When Mike hadn’t spoken, Cass hadn’t been surprised. He barely knew her. He was basically here because of Brenna.
But Dan. Would he say something? If so, what?
Don’t expect too much. Don’t ruin the evening with unrealistic dreams.
Mike and Brenna resumed their seats, all peaceful between them for the moment. Dan excused himself and disappeared through the swinging door to return with a cake iced in white with white buttercream flowers rimming the perimeter.
“From Let Them Eat Cake.” Cass smiled. “You couldn’t have done any better than that.”
“Jenn told me you loved this cake best.” Dan placed the cake, alight with little candles, before her.
“Forty candles?” she groaned. “Did you have to?”
“We sure did,” Jenn said.
“Reason number six.” Cass smiled at her niece, enjoying their détente, even if the peace was only temporary. “I gave you a chance to be a pyromaniac for the evening.”
Finally the cake and ice cream were gone, the coffee drunk. All that remained were six sated people. Then Dan rose.
He looked down the table at Cass, and she felt as though she’d never be able to look away. She wasn’t exactly sure how he had done it, but in the short time she’d known him, he had become the most important person in her life. Her hand went to her heart as if to protect it.
“Cass,” Dan said her name and stopped. He just looked at her, and the air between them vibrated. On either side of the table the kids grinned and rolled their eyes, but Cass didn’t care. At this moment there was only Dan.
He cleared his throat. “I appreciate you for many reasons, some as substantial as your great legs, your beautiful hair, and your enchanting eyes.”
Cass blinked. Wow. The kids giggled.
“But what I appreciate most is that you have generously offered yourself, your home, and your family to me during the most difficult time in my life. I was lost, but you found me and took me home with you. You have made these uncertain days a joy and reminded me that the Father does know what He’s doing. I could not ask for more, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
He reached into his suit jacket’s inside pocket. “And now.” He pulled out a slim, padded, ruby-colored box with a gold string wrapped around it and tied in a bow. He held it toward her. “Happy birthday, Cassie. From all of us.”
Cass watched as Jared took the box and passed it to Jenn who passed it to her. She looked down the table at Dan who was so handsome in his navy pinstripe suit, so Mr. CEO. He might have said, “From all of us,” but Cass knew better.
“Open it,” Jenn ordered. “Come on, Aunt Cassandra.”
Cass’s fingers shook only slightly as she slid the string off and lifted the lid. Inside on a bed of ivory satin lay a bracelet, a golden chain with one small, exquisitely etched medallion attached: a butterfly, wings spread for soaring. Dangling next to the butterfly was a tiny key.
The swell of joy Cass felt made speech all but impossible. She held the bracelet up for everyone to see. Dimly she heard Jenn say, “Very pretty butterfly, but what’s with the little key?”
She didn’t answer. She slid the gold chain about her wrist and with Jenn’s help fastened it. She held her hand out so everyone could see. Then she lowered her hands to her lap and closed her hand around the little medallion, feeling it warm in her hand. She looked at Dan who looked back with a tiny half smile. He dropped one lid in a wink.
It was the best birthday she’d ever had.
Fifteen
HE SAID HE’D give me another chance!” Jenn practically bounced in her seat as she said the words.
Cass, Jared, Jenn, and Dan were seated around the tiny table in the kitchen on Wednesday night enjoying Cass’s special lasagna. Between Dan and Jared there was little room left under the table for Cass’s knees. She wound her feet around her chair legs to keep them out of the way, just as she did at breakfast. At Jenn’s excited words, she halted a forkful of lasagna on its way to her mouth and eyed her niece with suspicion.
“Who said he’d give you another chance?” But Cass was certain she knew the answer, and it didn’t please her. She’d live happily ever after if that Smith boy never spoke to Jenn again.
“Derrick,” Jenn breathed out his name like it was magic.
Jared looked at Dan and rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother.”
Jenn blinked, focused, then snarled, “Butt out, Jared. My life is none of your business.”
Seeing a family spat looming, Cass grabbed the basket filled with slices of crusty, garlic-adorned Italian bread. “Have another piece, Jared, Jenn. It won’t keep well.”
Jared, easily distracted by anything edible, took two pieces of bread. Jenn sniffed and took one. Feeling like she’d just escaped a major war, Cass offered the basket to Dan.
“Thanks.” He took a slice. “That was wonderful lasagna.”
“I add slices of pepperoni.” Cass looked at his empty plate. The man was a vacuum cleaner. He inhaled everything she served him at breakfast, too. “More?”
He nodded. “But I’ll get it.” He stood and walked to the pan resting on the stove.
“How about more for me, too?” Jared reached toward Dan, his empty plate in hand.
&n
bsp; “He wants to take me to the movies Saturday night.” Jenn glowed. “I said yes.” She took a quick bite of salad. “Mmm. Great meal, Aunt Cassandra.”
Cass stilled. Saturday night at the movies? Not if she could help it. But how could she keep Jenn away from Derrick without alienating the girl?
“What movie and where?” Cass asked, taking care to keep her voice curious, not censorious.
“Who cares?” Jenn looked dreamy again. “Anywhere with Derrick is okay with me.”
“But not me. Until I know where you’re going, I can’t give my permission, Jenn.” Cass felt her ingested pasta and tomatoes congealing into an acidic glob just below her ribs. “Surely you know that.”
Immediately Jenn turned whiny. “You don’t trust me.”
Cass returned a suddenly unappetizing forkful of lasagna to her plate. “We’ve been there before, Jenn, and you’re partly right. I don’t trust him.” She didn’t think she trusted her niece either, at least not while she was under Derrick’s influence, but she knew the wisdom of keeping that piece of intelligence to herself.
Dan and Jared continued to eat as if there was no life-defining conversation going on, their food disappearing at an alarming rate. Any minute now Cass expected them to pick up their plates and lick off the extra sauce.
Ill manners were so much easier to deal with than rebellious nieces.
“Why don’t you and Derrick go to the movies with me and Jeannie?” Jared said around his last bite of bread.
Cass stared at him in amazement. She hadn’t even thought he was listening. Just proved that men could multitask after all.
Jenn blanched and made a face. Obviously the idea of double-dating with her brother was not to her liking.
Jared calmly ignored the mask of horror his sister wore. “I bet Aunt Cassandra would let you go that way.”
Cass glanced gratefully at Jared. “You’re right; I would.”
“Can you stand spending the evening with three seniors, little sister?”
The girl’s deer-in-the-headlights expression said it all. She was trapped, and she knew it.
“There are times, Jenn,” Dan said, his last forkful of lasagna waving as he talked, “when it’s wise to compromise.” He shoveled in the last bite and chewed contentedly.
Jenn stared at her plate, deep in thought, undoubtedly looking for a way out of her dilemma. Finally, she sighed dramatically. “Oh, all right.”
Nothing like a gracious loser.
“You do remember that you have a curfew of midnight, right?” Cass reminded her.
“What?” Angry color reddened Jenn’s face.
“No problem.” Jared put a hand over his sisters. “Midnight it is.”
Jenn looked at her brother in disgust. He ignored her and scoured the table, then the kitchen for something more to eat.
“Thanks, Jared,” Cass said, grateful all the way to her toes.
Jenn snorted. She grabbed her partially eaten dinner and dumped it unceremoniously down the garbage disposal. She stalked back to the table and piled Jared’s and Dan’s salad and dinner plates, then reached for Cass’s plate. “Finished?” Her tone was belligerent.
Cass would have liked a second serving of the lasagna now that her stomach had uncoiled and if there was still some in the pan, which she doubted after watching Jared and Dan, but she just leaned back and watched her plate disappear into the dishwasher. Thank goodness for Corelle, or the abused dishes would have been a collection of shards littering the floor.
Reminder: Never let Jenn near the antique china when she’s in a bad mood.
Jenn stomped back to the table and reached for Jared’s glass.
He stood and grabbed it first. “Why don’t I take the glasses over? They might actually live until tomorrow that way.” He quickly looped his fingers into the four tumblers.
Jenn growled something unintelligible and grabbed the silver. She dumped it in the basket, sloshed some detergent in the tiny cups, and slammed the dishwasher door closed. She locked it, pushed the correct button, and without a word headed to her room.
Off to sulk, Cass thought. Or to e-mail all her friends about how absolutely awful it was to be subject to someone like her old-fashioned, stick-in-the-mud aunt.
Cass looked at Dan. Poor man. Her dinner invitation was supposed to offer him congenial company to counter so much time spent alone. “Coffee?”
Dan nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I didn’t make any dessert.” Cass grabbed the carafe from the coffeemaker and set it on a hot pad on the table. “I’ll eat too much if I make it.” She grabbed two mugs and looked questioningly at Jared who shook his head.
“No coffee for me. It’ll stunt my growth.”
“You get much taller, and you’ll be bumping your head on doorjambs for the rest of your life,” she said, turning toward the cupboard. She glanced over her shoulder at Dan. “I think I have some coffee cake left from breakfast if you want a slice.”
“Uh, sorry.” Jared opened the refrigerator and pulled out a liter bottle of Coke. “All gone.” He reached over Cass’s shoulder and took out a bag of pretzels. “I was hungry when I got home from practice.”
Cass eyed him. “The snickerdoodles I made yesterday?”
Jared shrugged and grinned unrepentantly. “They were very good. Paulie thought so too. You should make some more soon.”
“Only if you promise to leave me a dozen,” Cass said.
“I’ll try, but you know Paulie.”
“Paulie, my eye.”
He grinned again. “Got to hit the homework. See you.” With books, Coke, and pretzels in hand, he disappeared upstairs.
Cass dropped into her seat and looked at Dan. “Did you eat like that when you were his age?”
Dan shrugged. “I don’t remember, but I do remember my mother muttering about Andy and me eating them out of house and home.”
They sat in silence, sipping their coffee. Then Cass’s anger got the best of her.
“He’s willing to give her another chance! Did you ever hear anything so, so …”
“Reprehensible?”
She looked at him and nodded emphatically. “Absolutely!” She stewed some more while he calmly sipped. “Why, look at Jenn. Any boy would be delighted to go out with her.” Cass glared at Dan. “Right?”
He nodded. “She’s cute as a bug’s ear.”
“Darn right she is. Cute and petite and pretty with wonderful hair and great eyes. She’s just about perfect.”
“Just about perfect.” He took his mug to the sink and rinsed it. “What’s a bug’s ear look like anyway? Ever seen one?”
She ignored him. Derrick was the object of her ire, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be distracted. “Stupid boy, too dumb to appreciate a treasure. I’d like to get my hands on him. Hurting my baby. Making her feel bad.”
She felt Dan’s gaze. “What?”
“Cass, it’s only a temporary dating problem, not the end of the world.”
“You’ve never been a sixteen-year-old girl.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“Believe me, it is the end of the world to be rejected, humiliated like she was.”
He made a noise deep in his throat, and it sounded like disagreement to her. She glared at him, willing to spread the animosity around. “You’re not still upset at her about her crack to me that first night, are you?”
He shook his head. “All forgiven and forgotten.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He walked to the door leading back to the main part of the house. He turned. “I’m going for a walk. Want to come along?”
“Oh.” Cass felt her cheeks go hot with pleasure and hoped it didn’t show. Of course, she was sitting directly under the light over the table, so fat chance of that. “Trying to distract me?”
He nodded. “Is it working?”
She smiled. “Yes. I’d like to go for a walk.” With you.
“Ten minutes?”
&
nbsp; “Ten minutes,” she repeated.
He gave a half smile, pushed the door open, then paused. He looked back at her over his shoulder, his eyes again intense. “You know, Jenn may be a cute little thing, but sometimes big is better.”
Sometimes big is better?
Dan closed his eyes and considered batting his head against the wall as he went upstairs. Talk about inane! He pushed his arms into his jacket. Will I ever get the art of compliments right? He’d done okay at her birthday party; he was pretty sure of that. But tonight? That’s what he got for feeling too confident.
Lord, conducting due diligence and advising about investments is a piece of cake compared to complimenting a woman, at least for me. Help!
One wonderful thing about figures, the monetary kind: You couldn’t inadvertently insult them. They were what they were. But figures, the womanly kind, the beautiful kind, the Cass kind, well, that was a different story.
Sighing, he left his room and walked downstairs. He half expected Cass to stand him up. He deserved it; that was for certain. But she was there, bundled in a dark green fleece jacket that made her hazel eyes vivid and alive with deep, rich color. She’d put on some pink lipstick that made her smiling lips shiny, but otherwise her face was still free of cosmetics, still naturally beautiful.
He reached around her and opened the door. She stepped through; he followed. They moved down the front walk side by side. As always, Cass looked next door. Mr. Carmichael stood on his front porch in the dim light of a twenty-watt bulb by the door, glaring at the world. Both the man with his tatty suspenders holding up his baggy pants and the house with its cracked windows staring blankly gave Dan the heebie-jeebies.
“Hi, Mr. Carmichael,” Cass called, waving, smiling.
He glowered her way but said nothing.
“Ready to sell yet?”
He moved his hand in a go-away motion. “Not to you, missy.”
“Why not, Mr. Carmichael?” Dan asked, careful to sound merely inquisitive instead of irked like the old wretch’s attitude toward Cass made him feel.
