Their Forever Home Page 4

  “I know, but—”

  Her mother’s expression was one of total fury. “Cassandra Jane, you need to tell them. We can’t keep something like this from them.”

  “There’s not much to tell, Mom. I tried calling the number back, but it keeps ringing.” She unlocked the phone and showed the call history. Seven times she’d called. And seven times he hadn’t answered.

  Her mother rose to her feet and left the dining room. Andromeda took the phone from Cassie. She ran her finger over the display, pressed the number and placed the phone to her ear.

  Cassie reached out for the cell, but her sister held it away from her. “I told you, he didn’t answer any of my calls.”

  After a moment, Andie nodded and handed her the phone. “He knew about the contest. That must mean he’s in the area still.”

  “Or he’s keeping track of us online. It’s not like you have to be in Detroit to know what’s going on.”

  “He’s watching over you at least. He’s never called me.”

  The bitterness in her sister’s words mirrored the sour look on her face. She placed her napkin beside her plate, then left.

  Cassie glanced around the empty room. Despite the beautiful place settings and the delicious food, ugliness had found its way to mar the family dinner. She soon found her mother and sister in the backyard, her sister leaning against the deck railing while her mother walked along the perimeter of the yard pulling at weeds. Andie put a hand on Cassie’s arm when she started down the steps to join her mother. “Let her grieve.”

  “He’s not dead.”

  “He’s not coming back, so he might as well be.”

  Cassie shook off her sister’s hand and met her mother by the lilac bush that had been planted there when she was born. She’d always thought of it as hers because of that. Now she snapped off a fragrant bloom and held it out to her mother. “I’m sorry.”

  Closing her eyes, her mother held up the flower to her nose and took a deep breath. She reached out and patted Cassie’s shoulder. “It’s your father’s fault, not yours. He’s the one who got into this mess.”

  “I’ll contact the detective to let him know Daddy called me.”

  “It’s the right thing to do, Cassandra.” She looked up at the house. “The lawyer thinks we may have to sell the place to pay back the missing money that your father took.”

  Andie joined them. “We didn’t take the money, so why should we pay it back?”

  Cassie knew that even if they got top dollar, the sale of the house wouldn’t be enough to pay back everyone in full. More than half a million dollars was missing from the company’s accounts. “When were you going to tell us this?”

  Their mother shook her head. “When I knew something more definite. Why get you upset over something that might not happen? I’ve been thinking about calling a Realtor to put it on the market.”

  “If you do sell the house, where will you go?” Cassie asked.

  Andie glanced at her, but Cassie shook her head. “My house is still under construction.”

  “It’s been that way since you bought it two years ago. When are you planning on finishing it?” her sister scolded.

  As soon as she had more money. She’d started renovating it right after she’d moved in, but the funds had dried up after the first year. Now she fixed things as time and money allowed. It was livable for her, but her mother had higher standards. Like a kitchen that had walls besides studs. “Mother could stay with you at your apartment.”

  “On the pull-out sofa? I don’t think so.”

  “Girls, I appreciate the offers but I’ll figure something out myself.” She put a hand on first Andromeda’s cheek, then Cassandra’s. “We’ll get through this like we have everything else.”

  In Cassie’s mind, they’d gotten through it by not talking about it. At all. One day, her father had been there. The next, he hadn’t been, along with the half a million according to the detective assigned to the case. She had been questioned since she was directly involved with the construction business, but it became clear she had no idea where her father was or what he had done. She didn’t believe he could do the things they blamed him for. Her father was no thief, but she didn’t have an explanation for the missing money. His disappearance only added weight to their accusations.

  Cassie slapped at a mosquito that nibbled on her wrist. “We still don’t know for sure that it was Daddy who took the money.”

  Andie gave her a scowl and turned back to the house. Cassie knew that her sister never doubted that their father was guilty of everything that the detectives had accused him of. But she had her reservations. Daddy wouldn’t steal from his own company, much less the clients who were the lifeblood of their business. He wouldn’t do that to her. She’d hoped to keep the business running after he retired in the next ten years or so. Yet, there were times she wondered if he could have done it. If he had.

  Her mother looked even sadder than before as she put a hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Cassandra...” She blinked and then gave a quick shake of her head. “Let’s go finish dinner. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Cassie watched her retreat. She doubted they would talk. Though part of her needed to get these fears and doubts off her chest. To share what had kept her awake at night.

  But she was a Lowman. And her family didn’t speak about unpleasant topics if they could be avoided.

  Cassie slapped at another mosquito and joined her family inside the dining room, where they resumed eating. She took her seat and placed the napkin back on her lap, picked up her fork and dragged it through the mashed potato crust of the shepherd’s pie. She was no longer hungry.

  * * *

  BEFORE HEADING TO the house for the first day of demolition, John picked up coffees for the team. Not sure how they liked to drink it, he asked for packets of cream and sugar on the side. Because of his stop, he was the last to arrive. Cassie’s truck had the tailgate down. He picked up the cardboard carrier, carefully removed himself from the car and approached the house. One of the Buttucci brothers walked out of the open doorway and grunted a welcome. John held up the carrier. “I brought liquid motivation”

  Biggie took one cup with a murmur of thanks and continued his journey to the truck to grab a sledgehammer. John followed him inside and grimaced at the hole in the floor that seemed to gape even wider. “Good morning,” he called down the hallway, where he could hear voices drifting out of the bathroom.

  Cassie appeared and held up her hand in greeting. “John, I wasn’t expecting you this early.”

  A horse of a dog galloped into the living room from the kitchen and stood between him and Cassie. John took a step back. Cassie put a hand in the dog’s blond fur. “This is Evie. She’s a Belgian Bouvier de Flandres, so she thinks she’s my protector.”

  “You bring your dog to the work site?”

  “She’s well trained, and I’ll keep her in the backyard.” Cassie shrugged. “She wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, I work long hours on a job and it’s nice to have someone who thinks she’s tougher than she is to keep me safe. Do you have a problem with that?” She looked him over and he wondered if he’d worn something wrong. “Why are you here for the demolition? Shouldn’t you be home drawing up sketches or something?”

  “You don’t think I can help you tear out tile and rotten wood planks?” He held out a cup of coffee to her. “I can do this.” Biggie hefted the sledgehammer over his shoulder. John gave a nod. “I’m part of this team, and I’d appreciate it if you would include me.”

  “Suit yourself.” She took the cup and held it up in salute. “Thanks. I brought my coffee maker but forgot the beans. I’ll pick some up during our lunch break.”

  Tiny joined them. “George is renovating the house across the street and said the dumpsters are being delivered later this morning. We’ll have to remove the debris and put it in t
he front yard for now.”

  “Actually, I have an idea about that. I’d like to use some of the broken tiles in a mosaic.” John quickly tore a piece off a paper bag that held supplies. He removed the pencil from the back pocket of his jeans and drew an outline of a star divided into smaller squares and triangles. “I was thinking we could reuse the tile to create something to hang on the wall or maybe a patio table for the backyard.”

  “In avocado and gold?” Cassie shook her head. “I don’t know about that. Not exactly a winning color combination.”

  She had a point. “Are there any rules that say we can’t use what other teams are throwing out? I might be able to get more tiles in other colors that way.”

  Tiny looked skeptically at his brother. “We’re decorating with trash now?” he asked.

  “We’re salvaging what we can. The Belvedere Foundation said we had hidden gems here in this neighborhood. Why not carry out that theme in the decor too?” John knew he had a great idea, but the other three didn’t look convinced. “What would it hurt to let me try this?”

  Cassie glared at him. “We’re limited on time as it is.”

  “I’ll work on it during my free time.” Granted, he had the same twenty-four hours in a day that everyone else was allotted, but he’d find time to work on something that had meaning to him.

  He could practically see the gears turning in Cassie’s brain before she gave a short nod. “Do what you want. But if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t stay in the design.”

  “Agreed.”

  Biggie seemed to have a gleam in his eye as he took the sledgehammer and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. In a few seconds, a loud crash followed by the tinkle of broken tiles hitting the floor filled the quiet. Cassie smiled and rubbed her hands together. “Here’s to the start of a beautiful home.”

  John looked around. “What would you have me do?”

  “Find a pair of gloves and start placing the broken tiles and plaster in one of the empty bins I brought. When it’s full, place the bin outside.” She slipped a pair of goggles over her eyes and put on her own pair of gloves. “Tiny and I are tearing up carpet.”

  He found an empty bin in the kitchen along with other supplies, including an extra pair of work gloves. He’d have to go and get some of his own soon if he wanted to continue this new career. Putting them on, he skirted around Cassie, who was pulling up the soggy shag carpet in the living room. She moaned as she saw the ruined wood floor underneath. “There’s nothing to save here.”

  Tiny agreed. “Maybe it’ll be okay in the bedrooms.”

  “If we’re lucky.”

  John met Biggie in the bathroom. The big man gave a grunt and smashed the sledgehammer between the bathtub and toilet. John scooped up debris and put it in the bin and smiled to himself when Biggie hefted the sledgehammer over his shoulder and brought it down with force against the wall.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  Biggie nodded and continued to smash tile. John filled one bin, took it outside and exchanged it for another empty one. As he walked back through the house, he watched Tiny roll the last of the carpet into one long, wet roll and throw it over his shoulder. Cassie yanked a bandanna from her back pocket and wiped her forehead before tying it around her hair. “I’ll have to bring fans tomorrow to keep us cool while we’re working if this heat continues.”

  “It should. It’s the end of May.”

  “You never know. It’s also Michigan, so we could get a cold front at any moment.” She stared at John, her head cocked to one side. “You might not want to wear your best pair of jeans for this job. Especially during demo.”

  John looked down at his pants. “This isn’t my best pair.”

  “I’m just saying you’re not going to want to wear nice clothes when we’re at these beginning stages. If ever.” She pulled at the edge of her tank top. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to replace these because of paint splatter or because of rips and tears.”

  “I get it, Cassie.”

  She watched him for a moment and then nodded. “I know.”

  But her expression at what he wore made him think she did believe him to be slightly clueless. He swallowed a rebuke and returned to the bathroom, where Biggie sat on the edge of the tub, wiping his forehead with a rag. John bent and started putting more debris into the bin. Biggie stood and put a hand on John’s shoulder, making him look up. “She’s only looking out for you, you know?”

  Surprised the big man could be soft-spoken, John nodded and returned to his job.

  * * *

  THE DUMPSTER ARRIVED and was positioned between their house and the one next door, which was assigned to Butler Construction. Cassie wheeled the first bin of debris to dump into the huge receptacle and almost stumbled over Nick, one of her competitors. He tossed an armful of rotten wood panels into the dumpster, then watched her empty the bin from her side.

  “Congratulations on being one of the finalists,” he offered.

  “You, too. But then I figured you were a shoo-in.”

  He grinned. “Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but my brothers and I also landed a huge contract for a subdivision.”

  The crown jewel for a contractor. A subdivision meant years of steady work and income. Her father hadn’t had a contract like that for a while. “That’s great, Nick. Will your brothers be able to do it on their own with you here?”

  “They’ll keep me in the loop until the contest is over.” He looked behind her toward her house. “Is yours as big of a nightmare as ours?”

  She didn’t want to give too much of their situation away to a fellow competitor. Better to keep certain things to herself for now. “I’ve seen worse, but we’ll be fine. My designer has a lot of big ideas.”

  “The car guy? No offense, Cass, but what does he know about designing a home?”

  Hearing him voice her own doubts about John raised her hackles. “Knows a lot more than Tiffany, whose idea of high concept is open space filled with tchotchkes and knickknacks.”

  Nick bristled at the insult to his partner’s design ideas and left. Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have antagonized the first contractor to have been nice to her. But then, he’d tried to make her doubt John’s abilities, and for better or worse they were a team. She turned to find John holding a rolled-up piece of carpet on his shoulder. She wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard.

  He threw the carpet into the dumpster. “You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy. He’s trying to get under your skin and undermine your confidence...”

  “I know he is.”

  “...and to make me look like the reason you’ll lose.”

  The truth was, some of John’s ideas had already made her wonder if she’d been paired with the wrong person. She needed to win this contest, and that meant having a designer who would knock the socks off the judges. She wasn’t yet convinced that John was that person. She pointed at him. “You better not let me down.”

  “Back at you.” He turned on his heel but paused, then continued down the sidewalk past other homes in the neighborhood.

  Where was he going? They had work to do, and he was choosing to go on a stroll? Now? She shook her head and pushed the bin back to the house. Tiny sat on an upside-down garbage can, chugging a bottle of water. He finished and gestured behind her. “Where’s John?”

  “Went for a walk.”

  Tiny gave her a look. “What did you say to him?”

  She held out her hands at her sides. “How do you know it’s what I said?”

  “Because if he said something goofy to you, you’d be the one walking around the neighborhood to calm your temper.”

  “I told him not to let me down.”

  Tiny removed his ball cap and scratched at his balding head. “Isn’t it kind of early to start doubting his abilities?”


  She knew he was right, but she wasn’t ready to concede just yet. “I haven’t seen much of his abilities beyond pencil sketches and ideas to use trash to make wall hangings.”

  “And you wonder why he walked off?”

  She sighed and leaned on the doorframe to the kitchen. “I need this win. We all do if we want to keep Daddy’s company going.”

  “It’ll take more than winning a contest for that to happen, sweetie, and you know it.”

  Tiny didn’t understand. No one seemed to. Winning meant she could prove to everyone that she was just as good a builder as her father. And maybe prove it to herself. If she won, that would mean restarting Lowman Construction under her management. She could be what she’d always wanted—her own boss. Was it too much to ask for?

  * * *

  JOHN GOT TO the end of the street before it ended at the large avenue, crossed and started his trek back. What had he been thinking? Was this contest really the answer to his worries? He’d been lost and floundering, unsure of what to do next. The announcement by the Belvedere Foundation seemed to be the solution he’d been waiting for. What if it hadn’t been? What if he had put all his hopes in something that would lead to nothing? If they won, his designs would be seen across the country. With that kind of exposure and his half of the quarter of a million dollars, he could start his own business. They’d be his own deadlines rather than having to answer to a supervisor who left things to the last minute and expected him to accomplish the impossible.

  He passed several more homes and slowed his pace. These ones sat closer to the main road and seemed older and more unique than the cookie-cutter-style homes at the other end that they were renovating. His fingers itched, and he wished that he’d brought his sketchpad. That and water, since the day was so warm. He stopped to wipe his forehead, then peered up at the scorching sun.

  “You look like you could use a drink of water, young man.”

  John shielded his eyes to see where the voice had come from. An older woman, fanning herself, was sitting on a wooden glider on a covered porch. He walked up the short path to her house. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a hot one today.”