Chapter Twenty-Eight
Shelly returned at the end of September so they could walk through the house one last time. The place had been emptied, the furniture sold or donated and her dad’s favorite wing chair shipped off to Riverside Gardens, where he was settling in.
“Remember we used to push the furniture aside and roller skate in here?” Shelly said as they paused at the threshold to the living room.
“We did?” The room was cavernous, and without furniture their footsteps echoed. “I don’t remember that.”
“Dad hated it, but Mom said the room was going to waste.”
“Sounds like something Mom would have said.” For a moment Cassie felt a familiar tingle of worry at the roller skating she didn’t recall, but so many other memories rushed up at her. The way they jumped rope at the end of the driveway, waiting for the school bus in the morning. The sweet, citrusy aroma that permeated the house when their mom baked her lemon cookies. Who knew why Cassie remembered one thing and her sister another. Memory was like that—messy and unpredictable. Sort of like life. She nudged Shelly. “Remember that play kitchen we used to have in the corner? I left a cup of milk in the oven one time, and Mom went crazy trying to find the smell.”
Shelly’s eyes creased with laughter. “Oh my God, that’s right! She was convinced there was a dead mouse in the wall.”
They sat on the floor with their knees up, laughing at how the exterminator had torn up the walls looking for mice until her father finally located the sour milk.
Shelly quieted. “This is it. We won’t be back.”
Cassie leaned against her sister’s shoulder. Letting it go was bittersweet, but she felt a kind of lightness too. The house, stripped to its bones, exuded a quiet dignity. The floors would be refinished, the walls repainted. Another family would take up a life here.
And she had a life of her own.
Andrew stuck his head in the door, looking mildly surprised to see them sitting on the floor. “What are you doing?”
Cassie hoisted herself to her feet. “Just taking a minute.”
“Glenn’s outside with Grandpa. I told him what we’re doing, but he seems a little confused.”
“That’s all right.” She gave Andrew’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for getting him.” Andrew was finding his way, but it would be a long road. As she’d feared, the trip to Dallas had been awkward and the family unwelcoming, but at least Andrew had made the effort. And he was moving forward. Going to therapy and working part-time at Ciccarelli’s. He’d started classes at UConn Stamford too. Maybe he would transfer somewhere else after a semester or maybe not. Life had a way of working itself out. You couldn’t foresee everything. You couldn’t foreseeanything.
Outside, Glenn and her dad were talking. She gave them both a kiss. “Come inside with me,” she said to Glenn. “We have a couple of minutes.”
They walked through the front door, past the family room—the TV gone now, the room still. Through the kitchen and out to the sunporch, which had been emptied and swept clean.
“You left the birdhouse,” Glenn observed.
“The wrens will be back in the spring; it seemed a shame to take it down.”
They climbed the stairs and she showed him Shelly’s old room, then hers. Frederick had been packed away and the posters stripped from the walls, but the silhouettes remained. The girl she’d been was gone, but the house and all that happened here had shaped her.
She gazed out the window, where the field was dipped in dusk. “Once my mom got sick I just wanted to get away. I thought if I did everything right I had a shot at my life turning out different. I mean, I didn’t actually believe that, but it terrified me that I had no control over my genetics. So I threw myself into trying to manage everything else.” She smiled lightly. “I’m in a good place now but just so you know, I’m never going to be a loosey goosey kind of person.”
“Loosey goosey?” He looked amused, then turned serious. “You’re brave. You know that? You’re the bravest person I know.”
“No. My mom was brave. Waking up each day and trying to make sense of a world that was going sideways. That’s brave.” For a moment she faltered. “I hope I can be like her if it comes to that.”
He took her in his arms. “You’re already there in my book.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She rested her head on his chest. “Anyway, for now I’m working on loosey goosey.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m very glad you’re staying. Have I told you that?”
She smiled up at him. “You might have mentioned it.”
...
Outside, her father was waiting with Andrew and Shelly. The light was fading and the bees would be settling in for the night. Time to get going.
“Where’s my bee stuff?” her dad said. “Is it in the house?”
