Autumn Dreams (9 page)

Cass recalled Dan’s words:
“She was making a phone call when I saw her, or at least almost making one. And I could swear she was about ready to cry.”

Cass stepped back into the kitchen, her hand on the door to
keep it from making any noise as it slid shut. She returned slowly, thoughtfully to her dirty dishes. What a mystery Brenna was.

A few minutes later as Cass slotted a piece of antique Limoges china with its pink flowers and gold banding into the dish rack to dry, the door from the dining porch shot open, and Brenna came in with a loaded tray.

“They loved the sticky buns,” she said brightly, just like she hadn’t cried in years. “They’re all gone.”

Cass studied her. No sign of weeping except maybe the slightest redness around her eyes. “Then it’s a good thing I held back some for our breakfast.”

“You held back some what?” Jared asked as he thudded down the stairs and into the kitchen, bringing the aroma of his pine-scented aftershave to mingle with the breakfast fragrances of cinnamon, cheese, and bacon.

“Sticky buns.” Cass held out a Corelle dish with six on it. Jared smiled and reached. “And you can only have two!”

He stopped and shook his head. “Aunt Cassandra, Aunt Cassandra, what have I done to deserve such cruel punishment?”

“If you don’t like it, you can get out the Cheerios. You know where they’re kept.”

“I already had some earlier, remember?”

“Then you don’t want any quiche?” She shot him a teasing glance. Jared was so easy to have around. What had happened to that family niceness gene when it came to Jenn?

“I guess I can force a piece or two to fill in the holes.”

Even Brenna laughed as he loaded his Corelle with two pieces of quiche, two sticky buns, and two large serving spoonfuls of leftover fresh fruit.

“Wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” he said.

“Personally, I don’t know why it doesn’t go to waist.” Cass put her hands on her rounded hips. “Just looking at that plateful makes my clothes feel tighter.”

It was a rush, but Cass and the kids made it to church on time. Immediately Jared and Jenn left her to sit with their friends, and Cass slid into the pew beside her parents. One of the nice things about fall was that getting to the worship service was again a regular part of her life. The frantic summer schedule often made attending impossible. Between cooking and serving breakfast,
checking out the weekend guests and readying their rooms for incoming folks, high season Sundays passed in a blur of activity.

But weekday guests were scarce now, and the rush to prepare for them immediately was unnecessary. The beds that needed changing and the baths that needed scrubbing could wait until tomorrow. The only guest remaining for the week was Dan Harmon, who had left SeaSong on some errand about nine this morning, not that she’d noticed, and Brenna had cleaned his room and bath already.

Cass sat back in her pew and mentally put her feet up. She sank into the warm anticipation of worshipping. When Paul or whoever wrote Hebrews encouraged the early believers not to forsake getting together, he knew what he was talking about. Personal devotions were great, but nothing took the place of joining with other believers.

She glanced at her parents. Dad had on his gray slacks, white shirt, and navy blazer. Every Sunday it was the same outfit, winter or summer.

“It’s classic,” he’d said. “And I don’t have to think about what to wear.”

“You just like uniforms,” Cass told him. “If not your postal uniform anymore, then your Sunday one.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got five neckties. That’s one for each Sunday of the month, even on five-Sunday months. That’s as much variety as I want. Of course, when I win one of the sweepstakes, I think I’ll buy a sixth tie, maybe even a black suit, what with all the funerals we have to attend these days.”

This morning, sitting straight in his pew, he looked alert and full of life. So did Mom. Cass studied her mother with care. Her blue tweed suit over a blue shell was neat and tidy. Her curly hair was well combed and her eyes sparkled as she reached across Dad to squeeze Cass’s hand.

“Good morning, Cassandra Marie.” Mom smiled. “How are you today? It’s good to see you. It’s been so long. You keep too busy at SeaSong.”

Cass smiled back and nodded. Mom, she realized, didn’t remember seeing her on Friday. Which meant she didn’t remember the search for Aunt Elsie either. Was that good or bad? As the congregation stood to sing with the worship team, Cass felt the
familiar desperation Mom often invoked these days.

Oh, Lord, what should I do? How can I stop these attacks?

The most frustrating thing about Mom’s periodic descents into senility was that the brothers claimed that Cass was the one with the problem.

“Come on, Cassandra,” Tommy said in August at the picnic Will and Lucy held as a bon voyage party for him and Rhonda. “Mom’s as sharp as ever.”

Will and Hal stood beside him and nodded. “Nothing wrong with Mom,” they agreed.

“Guys, she got lost and couldn’t remember her way home! She had to ask for directions.”

“Haven’t you ever gotten lost?” Tommy said, clearly unhappy with the conversation. “Ease up, Cassandra.”

“Not coming home from the grocery store I’ve shopped in for almost fifty years,” Cass retorted.

But the brothers weren’t listening anymore. They were edging away to jump in Will’s pool.

The fact that the brothers didn’t see what was so obvious to her wasn’t what annoyed her most, though it definitely bothered her. A bunch of ostriches, all of them. What really irked her was the condescending manner in which they let her know she was the one with the problem, not Mom.

If only she could turn to Dad for help, but he was so consumed by his sweepstakes that Mom could run around the neighborhood naked, and he’d never notice.

Cass sighed. She loved her family dearly, every single one of them, but there were times they drove her crazy.

A shuffle in the pew ahead caught her eye. In surprise she noted Brenna and her boyfriend, Mike, taking a seat. Brenna looked pretty in a pink shift, but Mike, a young man who was more bones than flesh and who looked like a younger Lyle Lovett, was decidedly uneasy. He kept fidgeting and clearing his throat. At one point, Brenna reached back and patted his shoulder. He managed to stand still for all of two minutes.

“Hey,” Dad whispered in an aside subtle enough to be heard all over the small sanctuary. He pointed to Brenna. “Isn’t that—”

“Yes,” Cass interrupted brutally, thankful that the singing almost hid his voice. She patted his hand and applied herself to
the service. Even though she sang much of the time with her eyes closed to better focus on the Lord, she couldn’t help noticing that Brenna seemed to know all the songs. Just as obviously Mike didn’t. Cass also couldn’t help observing that Brenna sang through tears, a great wash of them pouring down her lovely face. Now it was Mike who patted Brenna on the shoulder, his solicitude sending a little shaft of envy zinging to Cass’s heart. What was it like to have a man care for you like that?

Forgive me, Lord. You’re enough. You always have been and You always will be
.

Pastor Paul Trevelyan spoke, and as always Cass wished the elders would get with it and ask Pastor Paul to take the position at Seaside Chapel permanently instead of on the interim basis under which he now served. He was such a nice, capable young man.

Cass winced.
Young man
. Did that say a lot about her age or what? He was maybe ten or twelve years younger than her own almost forty. A mere kid, all unlined face and unflagging energy. Well, someday he’d reach the advanced age of forty, too. Of course, by then she’d be fifty. She sighed silently.

As Pastor Paul closed the service in prayer, Cass was aware of movement in front of her. She glanced up to see Brenna and Mike sneaking out. She was disappointed because she had hoped to talk with the couple and maybe get more of a feel for the puzzle that was Brenna.

As she followed her parents down the center aisle, Cass beckoned to Jenn and Jared, who were talking with their friends. Jared nodded and said prompt good-byes. Jenn made believe she didn’t see her and kept on talking.

Cass shook her head.
What am I going to do with her?

As she walked out the front door, Cass was surprised to see Dan Harmon talking with Pastor Paul. Interesting. It became more interesting still as Pastor Paul turned to her. “Did you know that your guest’s father used to pastor here at Seaside Chapel?”

Now there was an unexpected piece of information. “Really?” She tried to recall a Harmon. “When?”

“About thirty to thirty-five years ago,” Dan said. “Just for the summers. At that time, the Chapel only held summer services.”

“Ah.” Cass smiled. “We didn’t come to the Chapel then. We didn’t start coming until the services were year round.”

As Dan nodded, Mom reached around Cass and held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Cass’s mother.” Dan took her hand, a startled look on his face. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Merton.”

Cass noticed Dan’s surprise. Much as she hated to admit it, she noticed most things about Dan. She looked at Mom again. Nothing was out of place. She was the perfect picture of a sweet older lady. Happily her conversation today was quick and lucid.

“How are you enjoying your stay at SeaSong?” Mom asked.

While Dan made polite noises about SeaSong, Cass longed to slink away. Even when Mom’s conversation made sense, she was always unpredictable when she spotted a potential man for her unattached daughter. Often she made Cass feel like she was standing on the auction block, and Mom would let her go at a rock-bottom price to anyone who made an offer.

Mom reached out and slid her arm through Cass’s, halting any escape attempt. Cass forced herself to smile and tried not to wonder how Dan saw the two of them together—her tiny, cute mother and her towering, lumpy self.

Pastor Paul wandered off to talk to some other visitors at the same time Will and Lucy Merton walked up.

“More Mertons,” Mom said, and happily introduced Dan.

As Dan shook Will’s hand, he said, “I think I saw you at the football game with Cass yesterday.”

Cass looked at Dan in surprise. He was at the game? She hadn’t seen him, but then she had been pretty absorbed in watching Jared and Paulie and the rest of the team.

“Great game, wasn’t it?” Will asked. “Jared played really well.”

While Dan nodded noncommittally, Mom laid a hand on his arm. “We’re all going out for lunch. Won’t you join us?”

Cass flinched, but Dan didn’t seem to realize he was being wooed, pursued, courted. In fact, he looked pleased. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

“Good.” Mom smiled with evident satisfaction as she patted his arm.

Cass groaned inside. She’d seen that smug look on her mother’s face too many times before.

Mom, please, no matchmaking. He’s our guest at SeaSong, for Pete’s sake
.

“Where are you going?” Dan asked. “I walked this morning, so I don’t have my car. I’ll have to get it and meet you.”

“Oh,” Mom said, momentarily nonplussed. Then she grinned craftily. “That’s no problem. Cassandra Marie can drive you, can’t you, sweetie?”

Cass had read her mother correctly. The lady’d sized Dan up and come to the conclusion that he was an excellent prospect for saving Cass from permanent, previously inevitable spinsterhood. Funny how she’d done that at both her mental best and worst.

Cass smiled at Dan in spite of the sharp sword of potential embarrassment that hung directly over her head, suspended by the slender thread of Mom’s erratic mind. “You can fight Jared for the front seat.”

“I’m riding with Uncle Will and Aunt Lucy and the cousins,” Jared said.

“Me too.” Jenn stood close by her brother, eyeing Dan warily.

Cass nodded, accepting the inevitable. Dan and her. Together. Alone. What an awful situation. She bit her lip to keep from grinning.

With Dan at her side, she walked to her car, noticing that he made her feel small, a rare and wondrous experience. When he held the door of her red Honda for her, her heart tripped at the courtesy. She couldn’t recall the last time a man had done that. Certainly the brothers never thought to.

Dan climbed into the passenger seat, and suddenly the car seemed crowded. She couldn’t remember when or if she had ever been so aware of a man. Because she felt so drawn to him and wanted to lean toward him, she pressed against her door. Because she wanted him to feel drawn to her, she became reserved and shy, her mind completely blank.

“Does your family go out like this every week?” Dan asked as they pulled onto the road.

She nodded and cleared her throat to get rid of the breathless feeling he gave her. “Usually we do. Mom loves to get us together.”

“Nice family tradition,” he said, smiling, and Cass caught herself staring. He had a wonderful smile. She forced her eyes back to the road just in time to hit the brakes at the light at Ninth Street. Dan braced himself with his hand on the dash and said, “Oops.”

Cass studied the traffic signal with an intensity usually
reserved for a microbiologist studying a new strain of virus in the electron microscope. She knew her face was scarlet.

“When we were all younger,” she said in a rush, “Mom made a traditional Sunday dinner with roast beef and browned potatoes, carrots and onions—the works—every week. I think of that as the family tradition. Going out to eat is her substitute since cooking a big meal every week has gotten to be too much work. It makes her too nervous.”

A new and unpleasant thought grabbed her like a boa constrictor wrapping around its victim. Had Mom gotten to the place where she couldn’t remember how to make the big dinner? Or maybe she could no longer manage the logistics of it, getting it all cooked correctly and finished at the same time? Cass’s breath whished out. Either alternative was a bad sign, one that had been staring her in the face for months. She just hadn’t known how to interpret it.

“You’re fortunate to have your family so close.” Dan’s voice was wistful.

“Yes, I am.” Problems and all.

“When Dad couldn’t take the job here at the Chapel full-time, we moved to Indiana. He and my mother still live there, though he’s retired now.”