rolling her black eyes.
"And some child you were, too."
Tyler smiled.
"What's going on out here?"
The sound of her daddy's voice was almost Cassie's undoing. She felt
light-headed from both excitement and fear. What if they. No, she wouldn't punish herself any longer with those thoughts. Besides, it was too late.
She was here, and whatever happened, she would handle it.
"Why, Reverend James, it's Cassie and Tyler" Joy said in a jubilant
tone.
"Thank heaven," he said, darting deeper into a foyer that smelled of cut flowers and beeswax.
"Hi, Daddy." Cassie's voice was unsteady, and tears once again burnedher eyes, tears she didn't even try to control. Unsure of herself, shesaid the first thing that came to mind.
"You're looking well."
And he was, though his shoulders seemed more stooped and his hair grayer
and thinner. However, she was thankful to see that his incredible green eyes and mesmerizing voice remained intact.
"Come here." James reached for her and hugged her tightly. Then he
dropped to one knee and smiled at Tyler his mouth working.
"Hello, young man. Long time no see."
"Hi, Papa."
James touched Tyler's cheek ever so lightly.
"Mind if I give you a hug, too?"
Tyler shook his head, holding his arms out. Cassie averted her gaze,
while more tears streamed down her cheeks and a huge lump closed her
throat.
"I'll be in the kitchen, if you need me," Joy said, her voice sounding wobbly.
"And welcome home, you two."
Cassie nodded in the housekeeper's direction before her eyes moved back to her daddy.
"So how's Mother?"
James's features changed.
"Come on, I'll let you see for yourself."
"Oh Daddy, you have no idea how good it is to be home," Cassie declared,
clinging to his arm, confident now that she'd made the right decision to just show up on their doorstep unannounced, though she had tried to call and hadn't gotten an answer.
Of course, she still had to face her mother. And when it came down to it, she didn't know her daddy's true feelings. No doubt they would bombard her with questions, many of which she couldn't answer.
Five years was a long time not to see one's family. A shiver went
through Cassie.
"Are you all right?" James asked, pausing just outside the French doors that led into a large but cozy den, rich in furnishings, plants and expensive accessories.
"Oh Daddy, now that I'm home, I'm just fine."
"Well, you don't look it. You're white as a sheet and much too thin."
"I think my Mom's pretty," Tyler said, a hostile note creeping into his
voice.
Before Cassie could intercede, James tousled Tyler's hair.
"Me, too, but she was prettier when she had more meat on her bones."
Tyler giggled, which diffused the building tension. But Cassie didn't
think for one minute that she would come through this homecoming
unscathed, that she was home free.
"Your mother's resting on the sofa," James said as he opened the French doors and they entered the room.
The back of the long, flowered sofa faced the door. With Tyler's hand clasped in hers, Cassie made her way around to the front of it. Wilma was lying flat, with her eyes closed.
Cassie sucked in her breath and held it while her shocked gaze found her
daddy. A pained expression dulled his features, and he shook his head.
Before Cassie could say anything, her mother's eyes opened, closed, then reopened.
"Cassie," she said in a weak voice, struggling into a sitting position, though it was obvious just how difficult that movement was.
"Is that you?"
Unable to respond right off, Cassie eased down beside her mother.
Through the years, she had kept in touch by pay phone with her family and her best friend, Jo Nell Benson, so she knew her mother was ill. But nothing short of seeing her decline in front of her eyes could have prepared Cassie for this shock.
Where Wilma had once been strong and hardy, she was now frail and thin.
Yet her prematurely gray hair remained thick and salon-fixed.
Her skin hadn't borne the brunt of her illness, either; it remained relatively unlined and rosy. On closer observation, though it could have been a fever that put the flush there.
"Mother," Cassie whispered, then hugged her, a rare gesture. Wilma had never encouraged physical contact, and Cassie had always obeyed that unspoken rule.
Today she was making her own rules, and she wanted to touch her mother.
"So this is Tyler?" Wilma said, reaching around Cassie for her grandson.
"My, but you've grown. Give Grandmother a hug."
Reluctantly, Tyler placed his thin arms around Wilma's shoulders, then
pulled away.
"Mother," Cassie said gently, "are you all right? I mean, you seem much
sicker than I thought."
"It's hard to talk about something so personal over the phone," Wilma said, a sting in her voice.
Relief washed through Cassie. Wilma's sharp- tongued jab and feisty spirit were living proof that her mother wasn't nearly as ill as she'd first thought.