The House Guests Page 21

  “That’s not fair.”

  “If you don’t think so, then we’re done here. Do you want to hear this or not?”

  He considered. For a moment she thought he might say no. But finally he nodded again. “Your terms.”

  “Your father was my high school sweetheart, Will. He was two years older than I was, and his name was Roger Hart. He enlisted in the army right after graduation. He wanted an education and a way for us to be together, and he thought that was his best option. Then 9-11 happened and our country went to war. I’m so sorry to tell you that he was killed almost immediately after being deployed to Afghanistan.”

  He looked so sad that she wanted to hug him close, the way she would have when he was much younger. But an embrace would not soothe his pain.

  “You knew he was dead,” she said softly.

  “Not how.”

  “No, and I doubt you feel better for knowing.”

  He cleared his throat, but his eyes were filmed with tears. She hated herself.

  “So why is that such a secret?” he asked.

  “Because of our families. That’s the worst part. The Harts and my people had been bitter enemies for generations. They fought over land, and both sides still thought they’d been cheated even when I was growing up. Roger and I knew the score, so our relationship had to be a secret right from the start. But we were young and in love. We couldn’t help ourselves.”

  “Where?”

  She had done her research, and she knew what to say. “A small town where everybody knew everybody else’s business. That’s all you need to know. But if either of our families had learned that we’d fallen in love, they would have been furious, and who knows what they might have done to one or both of us.”

  “This is like Romeo and Juliet,” he said.

  She hoped the similarity didn’t make the story ring less true. “We didn’t marry, the way they did. We really couldn’t. Between us we had no resources and nobody to help, and we were too young to marry without our parents’ consent. So Roger joined the army after graduation. The plan was for him to come for me once he could afford to, marry me, then together we would go to each of our families and tell them what we’d done. By then I would be through school and able to leave with him. He wanted a career in the armed services. We thought we had it all figured out.”

  Will was way ahead of her. “I guess you didn’t figure out that I was on my way into the world.”

  She made herself meet his gaze. “Unfortunately your father was sent to Afghanistan right after training and killed in action. Before he deployed, he came home for a visit. We spent as much time together as we could in secret. Then he left and weeks later I realized I was pregnant.”

  She let that sink in a moment, hating herself the whole time. “I’m not even sure he got my letter telling him about you because he was killed very soon after he left. I knew that, at best, my parents would force me to give up my baby once it was born. I was also afraid that Roger’s family might somehow find out the baby was his. And then what would they do? They wouldn’t have welcomed us into their family, that was certain. So I left and never looked back.”

  “You never tried to work this out?”

  “My family held grudges for decades. There was no hope of that. Growing up there was like walking barefoot over a volcano, Will. My parents had no understanding of love or compassion, and Roger’s were the same. Both families are dead to me.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe they’ve forgiven you, Mom. Maybe they would like to get to know me.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “No, sweetheart. Neither family would want anything to do with us, even all these years later. Trust me on this. They will still be angry, because that’s the kind of people they are. Read about family feuds sometime if you have to. This one began generations ago. All through history and over the centuries, too many people have been hurt or even killed just because they have the wrong last name. I had to protect us both.”

  “This is hard to believe.”

  She hoped he was wrong and that he would believe it once the story settled in his mind. She hoped that now that he had facts, he could put the whole issue of his parentage behind him. She hoped she had painted Roger Hart’s family and her own as so unforgiving and hateful that he would never look for them.

  She was not optimistic.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  She had an answer for that, too. “I believed that no family would be better than the real ones. And I’ve been keeping you from trying to make contact. Because everyone would suffer if you tried, Will. Most of all you and me. And I hope you’re old enough and smart enough to take me at my word and leave this alone.”

  “Are they the reason we’ve moved so much?”

  She almost said yes, but she was afraid that would open a whole new avenue of questions. More important, she needed for him to feel safe.

  “Like I’ve always told you, our moves have been for better opportunities. I don’t think anyone’s looking for me. I left the family fold, and that made me a traitor. I think my family would walk a mile in the other direction if they thought I was suddenly going to pop up in their lives.”

  He didn’t say anything, and suddenly bone-tired, she got to her feet. “I know that’s a lot to think about. Promise me again that you won’t contact the Harts, or the Blairs. Let sleeping dogs lie.” She paused. “And it would be best if you just laid this to rest and didn’t try to find out more. Because nothing you’ll find out will be good or helpful. Leave it all behind us. That’s where it belongs.”

  He looked like he was trying to master a host of feelings. “Was my father the good man you always told me he was?”

  The names might be counterfeit, but now, at least, she could be truthful. “He was wonderful. I’m not sure how we both fell so far from the family tree, but your father was nothing like his family. You would have loved him. I did.”

  “I think I’m going to take a shower.” Will swung his legs over the other side of the bed.

  She gave his back a pat before he stood. “I would rather not talk about this again. Can you see why?”

  “I guess.” He left for the bathroom and she watched the door close behind him.

  She hoped that the bathroom door wasn’t the only one to be securely closed that night. She prayed silently that Will would now bury his questions and move on.

  22

  CASSIE COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE’D fallen for a scam, but early that morning she’d seen an advertisement in the Tarpon Times, and she hadn’t taken the time to do research. She dived in without checking for sharks because she wanted to be the first applicant in the water.

  Now she closed her front door and leaned against it, arms folded. She was angry, exhausted and, for the moment, just-hit-bottom hopeless.

  Amber, toweling her hair, came into the great room and stopped when she saw her. “Uh-oh.”

  Cassie closed her eyes. “Do I look like a pushover to you?”

  “This can’t be good.”

  “Well, do I?”

  “Of course not. Even if you did bring a stranger with a teenage son into your house and refuse to charge them rent.”

  “The correct answer is just plain no.” Cassie opened her eyes and pushed away from the door. “Worst job interview ever.”

  “I bet I can top you.”

  “You start.”

  Amber stopped toweling her hair long enough to lay a finger on one cheek, as if she was trying to choose. “Two years ago a restaurant owner told me I would get the floor manager job if I agreed to have breast augmentation surgery. He said he’d front the fee himself—and yes, he phrased it that way—but I had to promise I’d stay until I worked off what he paid. For both of them. He was very specific, right boob, then left.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Nope.
Then he said if I wanted to get out of debt faster, he’d be happy to pay me for other services I could render after work. He promised I would love every minute of our time together. In fact, I would want to pay him.”

  “Did you report this guy?”

  “That would have increased the fun a hundredfold, right? Police, prosecutors, lawyers. But I did tell the next three women waiting to be interviewed they should run like the wind. Two got up and came with me. One was thinking it over when we left.” She cocked her head. “Your turn.”

  “The ad in today’s paper said the job was an immediate hire in the arts and entertainment field. They wanted someone with general marketing experience but would train for specifics. I made an appointment, and that’s where I’ve been. The guy conducting the interview told me I’d be promoting major entertainment figures who were coming to a variety of venues in the area, and before we talked specifics, he wanted me to see where I’d be working.”

  “Tell me you didn’t get in his car.”

  At least that part of her hadn’t been suckered in. “I knew better, so I followed him. We ended up in a housing development about thirty miles from here. When I got out of the car, he handed me a stack of printed announcements that contained a two-dollar movie coupon at the bottom and told me to go door to door and hand them to the homeowners. Get it? Promoting major entertainment figures at a variety of venues?”

  “That was it?”

  “He said he wanted to see how I conducted myself with people, if I was friendly and knew how to push buttons. And if I did well, every time somebody used one of my coupons I’d earn a percentage. The percentage would depend on how many coupons other ‘marketing pros like myself’ had success with each week. There was only so much money to split up, so it varied.”

  Amber finished rubbing her hair, and then flung the towel over her shoulder. “Do people fall for that, do you suppose?”

  “If they travel there in the guy’s car, they probably can’t get home until they comply. Or if they’re desperate and willing to work for next to nothing.”

  “You win because you had to drive all those miles and waste so much time. My boob interview was blessedly short. I was already at the door by the time he mentioned the other services.”

  “I should get a bonus. I ripped the flyers into pieces and dropped them at the guy’s feet. He said he was going to have me arrested. I told him I’d seen a ‘No Solicitation’ sign as we drove in, and I would be happy to stay until the police arrived so I could explain why he was there.”

  “We need T-shirts. Badass Women Unite.”

  “At the rate my job search is going, I have plenty of time to hand paint a hundred.”

  “There’s no reason I shouldn’t be paying rent.”

  “Sure there is.”

  Amber shook her head. “I’ve got to finish getting ready for work. What about family—can they look out for job prospects?”

  “Carefully chosen family members already are. Roxanne. Travis—” She saw the subtle change in Amber’s expression at the mention of the name. “A few others. Try not to mention this to Yiayia. I can wait forever for the kind of job she would find for me.”

  “Mum’s the word.”

  Cassie stepped out to the lanai and checked her fledgling plants. Savannah’s lemon tree was flourishing, scenting the air with blossoms and already forming fruit. Travis had dropped off half a dozen good-sized starts, an orchid already loaded with blooms, a spider plant and a variety of succulents that she’d transferred to pots. It was no accident that he’d made sure Amber was home the day he arrived. He’d wangled an invitation for dinner, too.

  Afterward she stretched out in a lounge chair and gazed into the pool. Half an hour later she was still staring at the water when Amber came out to say goodbye. “I got the mail, and I’m on my way to the Kouzina. I’ll bring home dinner. There’s leftover pizza for the kids.” She handed Cassie a stack of what looked like junk mail and went back into the house.

  Cassie paged through and dismissed most of the mail, but the final envelope was the size of the one she’d opened on Christmas Day. The address label looked the same. Her heart sped faster. She held it up to the sun streaming overhead, but the envelope revealed nothing.

  She debated, then she hit Nick’s phone number, which she’d added to speed dial. As before, she expected to leave a message, but he answered.

  She identified herself and told him about the envelope in her hand. “Should I open it, or would it be better to let you or somebody there do it?”

  He hesitated, said something to someone nearby, then came back on. “I’m down at the docks. Want to meet me at the Limani for lunch?”

  “Only if I can pay.”

  “Great. That way I can order Greek fries, too.”

  “Only if you share.” She had struggled to sound casual but apparently hadn’t succeeded.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice reassuring. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  She hoped he was right.

  * * *

  Today Nick wore jeans and a long sleeved polo shirt. The Limani was on the Sponge Docks, a walk-up window with wire mesh tables in the back looking over the river and boats docked on both sides. The air was scented with salt breezes, fish and grilled meat. Cassie ordered a pork souvlaki plate for Nick, and asked them to make the fries Greek style. She added a fish pita for herself and more fries so she wouldn’t be tempted to steal his.

  Nick lounged in the sun as they waited to pick up their order. “I love this place. It’s real taverna food. Limani means port in Greek and every port in Greece has a taverna.”

  She watched a sponge boat docked just beyond them. One crew member sprayed water over the harvest, cleaning the black “skin” off the sponge, which was really a skeleton of an animal that could regenerate from whatever the sponge diver left behind. Sponges that had already been cleaned during the trip swung in long strings from poles and every surface high enough to move them out of the way. As she watched, the other crew member took down one string and began stuffing the sponges into a net bag.

  She remembered when there had been more sponge boats. Late in her childhood, beds in Greece had suffered, and the world had looked to Tarpon Springs for its harvest. Like a gold rush, men had streamed in, many with no idea what to do, and underwater deaths had followed. Today natural sponges were still needed. Among other uses they had antibacterial properties and were softer for bathing delicate skin or washing cars or boats. Shoe manufacturers used them for applying color and restorers preferred them when dry-cleaning works of art. But the fleet was smaller, the divers used scuba gear, not helmets and suits, and boats often stayed in the Gulf for weeks at a time. This was a smaller craft with two burly and obviously competent men, and watching them work was a pleasure.

  “Have you been to Greece?” she asked Nick.

  “During the summer after high school I worked for an uncle on a fishing boat in Thessaloniki. JoAnn didn’t like to travel, but I went back after she died and rode ferries from island to island to try to put myself back together.”

  “Did it help?”

  “I saw her in every sunset.”

  She understood completely.

  “You’ve been?” he asked.

  “I’ve always wanted to. Mark liked to travel, but he also liked to choose where we went. Greece was never on the menu.” Now she wondered why she’d let him get away with that. She wondered what it would be like to travel there now that Mark was no longer calling the shots. If she and Savannah could heal their relationship, would her daughter accompany her? It would be an exceptional graduation present.

  They picked up their order. Water was sluicing across the deck of the sponge boat, and gulls and other seabirds were circling.

  They chatted about high school, and Nick caught her up on friends they had shared. He ate efficiently and quickly. When h
e’d finished, he pushed his plate to one side. “Show me the letter.”

  She dug it out, and he pulled on disposable gloves and held up his hands. “So you’ll think I know what I’m doing.”

  “Will you have the letter dusted for fingerprints?”

  He smiled a polite no. “Let’s see what it says this time. The last one just fell into the despicable category.”

  “I guess you can’t charge anybody for despicable.”

  “We all have a little despicable in us. Unfortunately some have more than a little.”

  She handed him the envelope, and he took a plastic knife he hadn’t used with lunch and carefully slit the envelope. He unfolded the paper and read out loud.

  “I’m sure you’ve been thinking about my last communication. It has to be eating at you. How important is your dead husband’s reputation? How much do you care if people know who he really was and what he did? And that sweet daughter of his? How will she feel if the news gets out? I bet you’re trying to figure out what to do and how to stop that from happening.”

  Cassie took a sip of the bottled water she’d bought with lunch. She waited, but Nick had fallen silent. “Does it go on? Does this maniac say what I have to do to stop whatever it is?” She’d read up on Florida’s extortion laws. She knew this didn’t qualify.

  Nick shook his head and carefully folded the letter and put it back in the envelope before he stripped off the gloves and shoved them in a pocket. “I still think somebody’s toying with you. There’s no information on the so-called secrets. No hint they really know anything. It feels like someone trying to get under your skin. Maybe to make you do something foolish.”

  “Like what?”

  “Make enemies by asking questions that don’t need to be asked? Or maybe someone wants you to ask questions because they want you to find things you don’t know. Maybe, once you do, they plan to make some kind of offer.”