Authors: Gayle Roper
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?”
“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.
Mr. Carmichael scowled, his wrinkled face taking on the look of a dried apple. “None of your business.”
Dan nodded. Thoughtful, gracious answer. Typical of the man. “Well, maybe we can talk again later,” Dan said easily and waved good-bye.
Mr. Carmichael snorted.
Sighing, Cass turned toward the boardwalk, away from the old man. “I wish I knew for sure what he has against me.”
“You don’t have any idea?”
“Well, I have an idea or two,” Cass said. “Not that they make sense to me, but they might to him.”
When she didn’t continue, he prompted, “And they would be?”
“For one, maybe he’s jealous of the time I gave the Eshelmans.”
Jealousy and Mr. Carmichael were a mental stretch for Dan, but then he’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at understanding why people did things. He didn’t even fully understand why he liked to hang around with Cass so much. If he couldn’t figure out himself, how could he hope to comprehend a grump like Mr. Carmichael? “Who are the Eshelmans?”
“The old couple who used to own SeaSong back when it was just a big, old Victorian falling into ruin. When I was still teaching, I drove past the place every day driving to and from school. I stopped one day, introduced myself, and asked about buying the place. They told me no in no uncertain terms, but I liked them and hung around for two years as their friend.” She smiled, pleasant memories obviously unrolling for her. “I’d stop in two or three days a week after school. Some days I’d bring dinner. I think those were the only days they ate properly.”
He was struck by how deeply a part of her those care-giving instincts were. Not just her family but any in need benefited from knowing her.
“The Eshelmans didn’t have any family and were very lonely, so they appreciated my visits. Mrs. Eshelman loved to talk. When she thought I might be coming, she’d watch the news all day so we could discuss it. She was this tiny, tiny lady who came to my waist and weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet. But she had
heart and spirit and would have been an excellent foreign policy advisor for the president. Mr. Eshelman hated world affairs and loved to complain. When he wasn’t yelling at her to speak up, he was ordering her to turn off the news.” She laughed. “The first time he saw me, he said, ‘Big one, aren’t you? Flab or muscle?’ ”
Dan blinked. Hardly a polite or politic beginning to a friendship.
“He was this little man confined to bed, and he always said whatever came to mind. He drove his wife crazy, but I loved him almost as much as she did. And he loved me.” Cass fell silent for a minute. “I miss them.” She glanced back toward SeaSong. “I hope they’d like what I did to their home.”
If they didn’t, they were nuts, Dan thought. “What happened to them?”
“She fell down the steps and never regained consciousness.” Cass’s smile was sad. “I was with her when she died after three days in a coma. Mr. Eshelman died less than a month later. He had to go to a nursing home after her fall, and he just turned his face to the wall and died.”
She glanced back toward Mr. Carmichael’s place and sighed. “If he’s not jealous, then maybe he thinks I somehow hoodwinked the Eshelmans into leaving me their house. He thinks I’m dishonorable.”
“You? Never. He’s just putting his own behavior patterns on you. He imagines you in there browbeating the Eshelmans until they signed on the dotted line because that’s what he would do.”
Cass shrugged. “Maybe. But I never knew their intentions concerning the house until after they died. When their lawyer called, I couldn’t believe it. I am so grateful to them for their generosity. I certainly don’t expect the same from Mr. Carmichael. I’ve offered him a fair price.”
Dan looked at her, saw the frustration and sorrow that washed over her. “You really want that place, don’t you?”
“I’ll live if I don’t get it, but I’d rather get it and live in it.”
“What? You want to live there?” He turned and studied the place again, walking backward a few paces. He saw not one saving feature on the whole ugly building. “Why, for Pete’s sake?”
Cass stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “A bit more privacy, but I’d be close enough to handle any problems that might
arise at SeaSong. It’d also open up the back bedrooms at SeaSong that I’ve kept for my use.”
“More privacy and more income.” He nodded. “But will the extra income pay for the house and its renovation? And where would you start with a place that’s so derelict? Or do you want to tear it down and build new? I think I’d tear it down.”
“You wouldn’t!” Cass looked at him, appalled.
“Cass, be practical. The place is a wreck. Carmichael hasn’t done anything on upkeep for years!”
“That doesn’t mean there’s not a fine house buried in the ruin.”
“Tear it down.”
Cass shook her head. “Absolutely not.” Her look turned dreamy. “I’ve got all kinds of sketches of what I’d like to do with the place. And estimates of cost. I’m collecting furniture for the place at estate sales and flea markets. I’ve already refinished some of it. I found the most wonderful old headboard at a place up in New Hope. I know I paid too much—after all, it’s New Hope—but it’s wonderful.”
Dan, who knew nothing about New Hope and had never gotten excited about a headboard in his life, nodded. He decided to keep this conversation practical. “What happens when old Carmichael dies? Has he got family who might be sympathetic to your cause?”
“No one. He’s absolutely alone, just like the Eshelmans. That’s one of the reasons I try to be nice to him.” She sighed. “He’s going to die intestate, and some builder will probably come along and offer the bank or whoever a stupendous price that I could never match.”
Dan thought she was probably right, but he wisely didn’t say so. “If that’s the likely scenario, did you ever think that you might be wasting your time with all your planning?”
She shrugged. “Sure, but why not? I enjoy it. Then, too, there’s my secret weapon.”
He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
She gave a humorous little snort. “Mr. Carmichael might not know it, but he’s the target of a prayer campaign, one I’ve been waging for four years.”
“Four years? You’ve been praying for that grumpy old man for four years?”
“Sure,” she said easily. “I don’t know God’s timetable.”
A terrible thought struck Dan broadside.
Lord, I don’t know Your timetable either. Please tell me that slowly, steadily, surely doesn’t mean four years!
They reached the boardwalk, moved up the ramp, and turned north, the far lights of Atlantic City visible in the distance.
“Oh, look. There’s Johnson’s Popcorn,” she said, just like she’d made a great discovery. “Let’s get a tub.”
He followed her, ordered the big tub, and paid for it. The man behind the counter handed it to Cass who eyed with delight the mound of caramel corn, heaped well above the rim of the tub. The man gave Dan the lid. Cass all but purred as she took her first fistful. They began walking again.
“Think you’ll share?” he asked with a smile.
She wrapped both arms around the container, her expression possessive. “Do I have to?” Then she grinned, her enchanting face lighting up. She held out the tub. He took a handful of the caramel corn, still warm and crisp.
“Dessert,” he said as the rich taste filled his mouth. “Delicious.”
They walked in companionable silence for a while, their only noise the crunch of the popcorn. Dan thought about the things he’d learned about Cass. She was a single woman who had followed her dream—developing, marketing, and running SeaSong. That was quite a feat for anyone. She took in her niece and nephew at no small inconvenience, and she seemed to have most of the family responsibility for watching over her parents.
Their hands bumped as they both reached for more popcorn.
Dan grinned at her. “You’re one smart lady, you know that?”
She looked at him in surprise, her skepticism as obvious as the sand on the beach. “What brought that on?”
He watched her for a minute as she ate the popcorn. “You don’t do well with compliments, do you?”
Cass, looking self-conscious, shrugged. “I’m not used to them.”
Dan thought of her family who obviously loved her but treated her with a casualness that bothered him. “Your family doesn’t compliment you very often, do they?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “They love me.”
“Yes, they do, but they don’t compliment you or encourage you, do they?”
Her “no” was such a soft, sad whisper that the wind almost blew it away. She walked to the railing and stopped, looking out at the ocean, at the ripples of white indicating the breaking waves in the night-blackened water.