Grabbing a sandwich, Caleb spent the afternoon researching Florida’s Main Street initiatives, made a few calls to neighboring Main Street cities, then scanned the Org. Homestead drawings into his Revit system. He appreciated the historical drawings, but he’d work on updates the modern way.
When the afternoon sunlight faded from his office windows, he packed up to meet Jenny Finch at Alderman’s. She’d flown in from Miami to go over his proposal..
He’d just gotten into his truck when Mom called.
“You busy?” she said, rushed and stern, intoning the voice of her boss, a West End lawyer. She claimed it got clients to take her seriously.
“Heading out to meet the woman who’s restoring Alderman’s.”
“Can you come to the house?”
“Sure, after I meet Jenny.” Caleb climbed behind the wheel. “Want me to pick up Tony’s Pizza or—”
“No, come now.”
Caleb heard Dad talking with someone in the background. “I’ve got a meeting, Mom. What’s going on?”
It wasn’t like either of them to be home at four forty-five in the afternoon. Dad’s job as a logistics supervisor for an outfit that shipped products all over the world required long hours. Mom often worked overtime. She called it vacation money.
“You’ll understand when you get here.”
Caleb glanced through the truck’s windshield toward his parents’ backyard. He couldn’t make out much through the ancient shady oak, but he could see Mom pacing past the kitchen window.
He left his driveway to park at the side of the house and entered through the kitchen. Was Mom’s cancer back? It’d been a bit more than a little thing. After surgery to remove her thyroid, and a round of radiation, Mom had been declared cancer free but . . .
“Mom? Dad?” Caleb shot Jenny a quick text that he was on his way as he walked into the living room. “What’s so urgent?”
“Uncle Caleb.” His eleven-year-old nephew Bentley flew across the room.
“Hey, buddy, what are you doing here?” Caleb hoisted him up for a big, I-missed-you hug.
“Mom said I could stay with you. Can I?”
“Your mom said what?”
“Hey, little brother.” Cassidy emerged from the powder room,drying her hands down the side of her shredded jeans. “Miss me?” She wore a tight T-shirt under a beaded, fringe vest, and feathers in her braided wavy blond hair. She looked like Jenny fromForrest Gump.
Speaking of Jenny ... He looked to see if his client had texted him back.
“Cass, what are you doing here?” Caleb asked.
Mom tugged Bentley toward the kitchen promising milk and molasses cookies. Dad situated himself between Caleb and Cassidy in his BarcaLounger. “What’s this about Bentley staying with me?”
His big sister by eleven and a half months made him restless. Made him want to yell. Scream. Say things he’d regret. No matter how much time had passed or how she claimed to have changed—very little—he could not, would not trust her.
“It’s good to see you too.” She plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “Come, sit. Let’s catch up.”
“I’d love to, but I’m late for a meeting.” Classic Cassidy. Shows up and interrupts. “Why does Bent think he’s living with me?”
“Will you please sit down?” Cassidy slapped the cushion. “I don’t want to talk looking up to you. I promise I’ll be done in time for your precious meeting.”
“I’m already late.”
“Give her sixty seconds.” Dad tipped his head toward the couch. “I’ll watch the time for you.”
“Thanks, Daddy. Glad to know you’re on my side.” Cassidy spoke fluent sarcasm. “Okay, Caleb.” She perched on the edge of the cushion. “Things are going great for me. My Etsy store is killing it. I’m selling these beaded vests and these feathers”—she pointed to the black one in her hair—“like crazy. I’m starting to sell some of my art too. And I’ve met someone.” She flashed her winning smile. The one Dad and Mom bought with two years of braces. “He’s amazing. Arturo Mooney. He runs a truckingcompany in Louisiana, and he’s got this great big house on the bayou with a pool and big, modern kitchen, five bedrooms, four baths, a media room. Wait till you see it.”
“Sounds like Bentley would love to live there.”
