One Summer Evening - One Summer Evening Part 70
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One Summer Evening Part 70

Austin's blunt, out-of-the-blue statement took her by surprise.

"If I hadn't let him talk me into this land deal, then Randall wouldn't have gotten involved in our lives."

"No doubt you made a mistake about the land, but there's no way you could've known he'd stoop to kidnapping."

"What I should've known was that he was on dope."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I'd paid more attention to his erratic behavior.

It was off the charts, yet I didn't figure it out."

"The money's gone, isn't it?" Cassie's voice was devoid of emotion.

"Yes, up his nose."

"Which means we can't renovate and prevent other accidents like the one

that just happened?"

"I intend to pay back every cent."

Their gazes tangled for a long moment.

"Do you have it?"

"Some. The rest I'll get."

"Damn you for trusting that bastard."

"I told you I'd make it right, Cassie, and I will."

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"Don't say that." Austin's eyes were tormented. "Don't do this to us."

Cassie laughed a mirthless laugh.

"There is no us, Austin. When are you going to get that through your

thick skull?"

"Never. I realize this is a setback, and you're pissed, but it can be fixed."

"No, it can't be fixed, just like we can't be fixed. Now, please, leave

me alone."

He was tempted to argue, she knew, but he didn't. When he walked out and slammed the door, she put her head down and wept.

FR1;Thirty-Three Do you think the press will ever let the story go?"

"It doesn't look like it."

Wilma laid aside the newspaper and looked up as Cassie joined her on the

veranda. Once Cassie was seated with her legs curled under her, Wilmaturned her attention to the grounds, which were a riot of color.

"I'm sorry about all the publicity." Cassie's gaze tracked her mother's. Even though this summer was touted as being one of the hottest and mosthumid on record, it had its pluses, creating a lush beauty all its own.Like Wilma, she sat in awe and soaked up that beauty, praying that itwould calm both their troubled spirits.

"At least the reporters are no longer swarming," Wilma replied.

"If they hadn't gone away, I think your daddy would've had a stroke."

It had been two weeks since Randall Lunsbury had been arrested for kidnapping Tyler. But the newspaper hadn't let the story die. Since he

was the Worthams' grandson, the press had continued to milk it for all it was worth.

"I really am sorry."

"Don't be silly. It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing about

Randall Lunsbury and his crazy scheme to get money."

"I know, but-"

"I'm just grateful Tyler wasn't harmed," Wilma interrupted, "and that

Lester wasn't involved."

"So you're siding with Daddy on Lester's behalf?"

"Would that be so terrible?" Wilma's tone was gentle yet held a hint of

censure.

"Yes, it would."

Wilma reached for her glass of fresh lemonade and sipped it. After

setting it back down, she said, "You're going to have to let the hate

and bitterness you feel for Lester go or it's going to consume you."

"You tell me how I can do that when he's still hovering like something evil."

"Oh, Cassie, I hate to hear you talk like that."

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you."

"Stop apologizing, and you're not a disappointment."

Cassie didn't believe that for a second, but she didn't push the point.

"You were always rebellious, Cassie, and even though time and

circumstances have matured you, you still haven't lost that rebellious streak."

"Is that bad?"

"You father thinks so."

"What about you?"

Wilma didn't say anything for a moment, but that hesitation was an answer in itself. Cassie felt like crying, something she had done often as a child when she'd disappointed her parents. It seemed as though she'd spent her entire life trying to please them, to live up to their expectations, especially her daddy's.

Would she ever get past that?

"I just want you and Tyler to be happy, and if that's with Lester, then so be it. If not ..." Wilma's voice trailed off into nothingness.

Cassie stiffened her spine and held her tongue, having learned long agothat she couldn't change her parents. What she could change was how shedealt with them.

"What's going to happen to that poor man?"

Relieved that the conversation had switched off her, Cassie said,

"Prison, I hope." Feeling sweat gathering above her lips, she reached for a handheld fan on the table and began fanning her face and neck.

"How can you call him poor?"

Wilma took another sip of her drink.

"How can I not? Actually, he's to be pitied. All that talent gone to

waste."

"I'd like to" --Cassie broke off, then added in a curt tone, "Never mind. What I'd like to do to him isn't repeatable."

Wilma sighed.

"You have certainly hardened, Cas- she . I'm not sure I like that."

Realizing the conversation had once again turned personal, Cassie asked,

"Have you by chance talked to Austin?"

Once that question was out, she also realized she had walked into