Just Past Oysterville: Shoalwater Book One (39 page)

"I was just telling Billy that you're an old
friend of Jack's," she said, "and that you'd be staying with us for
a while."

Beth nodded to Cassie, making sure the girl
caught the relevance of her statement. Cassie did. There would be
no great revelations around the kitchen table this morning, at
least not in front of Bill.

Bill nodded, a shy smile at the corner of
his lips, as his slightly bulging eye drifted around the room
aimlessly.

"Sorry that I scared ya," he murmured.

Cassie smiled. "That's all right, Billy,"
she said, "I was the stranger in your dining room, I probably
scared you just as bad.” Bill Beckman grinned back at her, a small
drip of maple syrup clinging to his chin, and suddenly everything
was all right.

“
Boy howdy, didja!” he
exclaimed. “I thought you was a burgalist!”

"A
burglar
," his sister corrected
gently.

"Yeah!" Bill agreed.

All three at the table laughed, and just
that quickly Cassie realized, Bill had accepted her presence and
forgotten his concern.

Soon the older man was babbling merrily to
her about his new disc-man, visiting Jack in the hospital today,
and the book that Bill had bought to take to him. Cassie smiled and
nodded, losing the occasional word beneath a mouthful of waffle,
but maintaining the gist of Bill's wandering monolog. A happy hour
passed before Elizabeth stood and, gathering the breakfast dishes,
shook her finger at her older brother.

“
Okay Billy," she said,
"that’s enough; you've already talked one of her ears off, how
about you leave her the other?" She shook her head. "I swear
mister, your tongue--"

"--is hinged in the middle an' loose on both ends!" Bill
shouted, grinning hugely as he completed the sentence. This said,
he threw back his head and howled in red-faced laughter, stomping
his feet and slapping the tabletop until neither Cassie nor her
aunt could hold back any longer and joined him.

An hour later Cassie and Bill sat on the
bottom steps of the staircase, waiting for Elizabeth to emerge so
the three of them could make the short drive to the hospital.

Cassie wore her freshly laundered jeans and
a PSU sweatshirt (a gift from Grace). Her hair, washed and damp,
was pulled back into a ponytail and her feet felt strange inside a
pair of borrowed white tennis shoes, after wearing her clunky
hiking boots for so long.

Bill was dressed up for the occasion as
well, in dark slacks and a pressed white dress shirt. Her father
could have passed for any other businessman on the street, save for
the outlandish, multicolored Christmas tie he wore.

The black background of the tie was splashed
with neon red and green Christmas trees surmounted by a golden
sleigh piloted by a snarling Tasmanian devil in a Santa suit and
hat. Bill seemed fascinated by the tie and was careful to
straighten and smooth it whenever he moved. Cassie found herself
grinning at the older man's obvious pride in his riotous
neckwear.

"That's some tie, Billy," she smiled.

Bill grinned, smoothing the tie carefully
with one wide hand. "It was a Christmas present from Kim at school.
I go to school two days a week."

"Really?" she replied, "I'm hoping to start
school in September, myself."

"Neat!" Bill said. "'Course it's not really
from Kim, I don't think she can buy stuff on her own, so her Mom
musta picked it out, but it's still my fav’rite."

"That’s a pretty great tie, all right,"
Cassie agreed, and Bill's grin grew even wider, then faded a
little, as he leaned closer, glancing around as though he were
about to impart a secret for Cassie's ears only.

"My Momma's gone to Heaven with Jesus," he
said. "She caught a cancer. Jack told me so." Bill's smile slipped
away, "sometimes we look at her picture in the family book, but I
don't really remember her good."

Cassie's throat tightened as Bill lowered
his head, his eyes going to his shoes as though ashamed.

"Jack says it's cause of the ax'cident, that
I don't ‘member anyone in the pictures, 'cept Sissy of course," he
sighed, "my Momma looked a lot like Sissy though, so that helps me
‘member a little."

Bill Beckman's voice trailed off, and Cassie
watched him watching his shoes.

"So," Bill asked, brightening, "do you look
like your Momma?"

Cassie stiffened in spite of herself,
looking away down the street where cotton-ball clouds, all that
remained of yesterday’s storm, scuttled over the roofs of the main
street shops, following the Pacific breeze. Her voice was little
more than a tight whisper. "People tell me I look a lot like my
mother."

Another pause and then Bill whispered back
sadly, "Your momma’s with Jesus too, isn’t she?"

Cassie bit her lip until she was afraid it
would bleed, her hands forming white-knuckled fists in her lap as
she continued to watch the clouds.

"Yes, she is."

Bill nodded sadly. "Did she… catch a
cancer?

He said this in a hushed, fearful tone, as
though cancer might be a fanged monster waiting in the shadows to
leap on you, and you didn't dare speak its name too loud, lest you
draw its attention.

Cassie felt her head begin to pound from the
strain, her body trembled and she felt tears trying to escape the
corners of her eyes, she bit down even harder, crushing her tears
with the force of her will.

I wasn't even going to tell him how she
died, I didn't want to give him even that much.

"No," she said th,rough gritted teeth, "it
wasn't cancer, she was in an accident."

"Oh," Bill exclaimed,
"an
ax'cident
." He nodded knowingly as though that single word explained
everything bad that could befall a person. Cassie watched the last
of the clouds scuttle from view, her jaw still clenched against
impending tears. Bill let out a great deep sigh; his brows knit
together in commiseration, and patted her shoulder with one heavy
hand.

"Jack says that sometime ax'cidents just happen and you can't
do nothing about 'em. Beth says it’s God's plan.” Bill sighed,
“I'm…I'm sorry your momma died.” He gave her a final pat and then
rested his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

I'm
sorry
.

The words seemed to come from very far away
as they repeated themselves in Cassie's mind, over and over. The
tears that had threatened just seconds before were suddenly gone;
the tension in her neck and jaw eased as though some groaning
internal spring had been released.

Apprehension seemed to flood
from her, replaced by a warmth and relief that she hadn't felt in
all the long days since her mother's death. Hearing the
words
I'm sorry
from the lips of her father allowed the last of her anger to
fall away and she felt suddenly light-headed in its
absence.

From across time, came the
memory of her mother's voice reading from the Old Testament,
"To the Lord our God belongs compassion and
forgiveness, for we have rebelled against Him."

Finally, she leaned across the step and
rested her head on Bill's shoulder, feeling him tense slightly in
surprise and then relax.

"My mom was coming home from work," Cassie
murmured, "she worked the night shift at the hospital, and she was
hit by a drunk driver."

She closed her eyes at the sound of phantom
tires, screeching along imaginary asphalt.

"It was late and there was no one around,
and by the time someone saw her she was already gone."

She had done it.

The focus of her burning anger, the hunger
for vindication that had carried her across all the miles from
Bowie to Long Beach, had been forsaken. Broken and sacrificed.
Cassie could feel the pain, that wrenching, emotional agony
beginning to fade. Not that she believed it would ever go entirely,
but she hoped that time might help it fade until only the scar
remained, like a jagged tattoo on her heart.

It was enough for now.

She had given up on God, but He had remained
faithful, waiting for her exactly where she had left Him, forgiving
her unforgiveness, accepting when she had not, and now, finally,
she could feel His presence once more.

Bill continued to pat her shoulder, and they
sat silently, as Cassie’s lips moved in a silent prayer of
repentance and gratitude.

"It's okay," Bill murmured in his slightly
slurred child-voice, "It's okay. Your momma lives with Jesus now,
just like mine."

Cassie smiled, giving the big man one last
squeeze before sitting up, "I know Bill, I know." She turned,
hearing a slight sound behind her and found Elizabeth standing at
the top of the steps. She smiled at Cassie, her face wet with
tears.

"Aunt Beth," Cassie asked, "can you let me
into the bookstore for a minute? I have to get something for
Jack."

Bill stood beside her and, reaching into his
pocket, pulled out a thick paperback, the latest Tom Clancy
thriller.

"I got him a book already," Bill said,
showing the cover to Cassie.

"I know," she said, "but this is different,
this is a surprise."

Elizabeth gave her a questioning look but
unlocked the front door and keyed in the alarm code for her. Cassie
disappeared into the unlit twilight of the shop, returning from the
stacks a few minutes later with a slight, secret smile on her face.
Her aunt reset the alarm and locked the door behind them as they
stepped back out onto the sidewalk.

"What are you up to, young lady?"

Cassie just smiled and shook her head as she
walked around the corner to where the Jeep was parked.

*

A slow, steady beeping woke Jack from his
drug-induced slumber. Light poured into the tiny hospital room
through the huge picture window to his right.

He lay there for a long moment, as a wave of
dizziness passed. He listened to the soft alarm that told him the
IV bottle, the one that had been feeding him medication through the
night, had finally run dry. Soon, he knew, one of the nurses would
knock softly on the door before coming in to change it. He hoped
they brought breakfast with them.

Now that it appeared that he wasn't going to
die after all, Jack realized he was famished. He glanced away from
his window and towards the door and emitted a shriek on finding
Cassie Belanger seated in the chair beside his bed, her eyes intent
on the Bible in her lap. She looked up and smiled.

"You know," he growled, "a poor guy has a heart attack the
night before and what do you do? Try to finish him off the next
morning!"

"Oh hush!" Cassie laughed. "Couldn't they
give you something to improve your personality?"

"No medicine for that, kid." Jack smiled,
his words still a little mealy from painkillers. "Were you here all
night?"

Cassie looked at him, as the wall clock
ticked one long revolution; his eyes watery and his white hair
tousled from sleep. "No," she said, "Aunt Beth set me up on your
couch.” A long pause descended on the room, and Jack pursed his
lips thoughtfully, nodding at Cassie before he spoke.

"So,” he said, with a slow nod, “she told
you the whole story, then?"

"Yeah," Cassie said, "pretty much."

"Well, she’s smarter than me," Jack replied,
"and that’s no surprise. I didn't realize who you were until the
night I saw your mother's obituary.” Jack took a deep, quavering
breath, and Cassie saw his eyes start to glisten before he went
on.

"The first time I saw you, there in the
restaurant, my heart about stopped," Jack sighed. "You look so much
like her, you know. I just looked up and there was Katie, standing
in front of me. I was going to tell you; in fact I'd started to
when--"

"I know," Cassie nodded.

"I'm…I'm sorry Cassie," Jack said, "more
than you can know, for everything…"

Jack went on to tell a similar, if somewhat
slanted version of what she had heard from Beth the night before.
In Jack's memory, much more of the blame was laid on his shoulders.
Her father's suspicions, her mother's flight, the gun that Bill had
used. The culpability for everything seemed to fall at Jack's feet,
and he kept his gazed fixed firmly on his lap, unable to look into
her eyes. Finally, Cassie stopped him.

"Jack," she said, "I know what happened,
Beth told me all of this last night." She swallowed hard. "You've
blamed yourself all of these years, but it wasn't your fault."

"My father," she said, chewing the words
slowly, "chose to do what he did and you did everything you could
to keep it from happening."

"No Cassie, I--"

"No," she interrupted, "I
know what you
think
you did, but you've blamed
yourself all this time, punished yourself for something that wasn't
your fault! You loved my mother, and you knew it was wrong, but you
never acted on it, you never said or did anything out of line." She
felt tears threatening, and fought them back. "She never even
knew."

Jack sighed, and Cassie continued.

“
I resented her you know, my
mom, for keeping my father a secret from me, but I can see now that
she was protecting me, just like you were protecting
her.”

Cassie paused and took a sip of water, her
throat suddenly dry. "Jack, I want you to think about this. I grew
up in a home filled with love, surrounded by people who cared about
me, who supported me.” Her voice began to quaver.

"What kind of home might I have grown up in
with Bill, the old Bill?"

Jack raised his eyes slowly; his face looked
haunted, lined with guilt and self-loathing, but there was
something else there as well, something like the first faint light
of dawn after a long, long night. A tiny predawn glimmer of
hope.