Cassandra's Song. Carole Gift Page
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Brianna flashed a beatific smile. “Emma Sorenson.”
“Emma Sorenson?” countered Cassandra, returning inside from the backyard with Ruggs yapping at her heels. The roly-poly, mop-faced animal, probably a hundred in dog years, leaped up eagerly on Andrew, his big paws leaving grimy prints on Andrew’s dress shirt.
“Okay, Ruggsy, boy, that’s enough. Down, boy!”
“What do you mean, Emma Sorenson!” Cassandra repeated, staring Brianna down. “My dear sister, we were supposed to invite Lydia Dibbles, that new lady in church.”
Bree stared back, refusing to be intimidated. “I called Lydia and she wasn’t home, so I asked Emma at work the next day.”
“Well, I saw Lydia at church on Sunday and invited her!” Cassandra’s voice had reached a decibel level that would have amazed even her music teachers at Juilliard.
There was dead silence as everyone recognized their awkward dilemma. Andrew broke the silence good-naturedly commenting, “Ah, now I see. We’re expecting two dinner guests. Marvelous. I’ll put another chair around the table.”
Chapter Two
C assandra moaned in surprise as the doorbell rang. “Oh, no! I’ll get it, but it’s too late to ‘uninvite’ anybody. Bree, hurry and put another place setting on the table. Frannie, turn up the burner under the spaghetti. And, Daddy, get that smirk off your face. This isn’t funny.”
Andrew held up his hands placatingly, but there was an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. “I’m innocent in this little caper. But you know what they say, girls. The more the merrier.”
Brianna shook her head in mock despair. “Oh, this is going to be a fun evening. I can see it already.”
“Just keep smiling, girls, no matter what happens!” With that lame bit of advice, Cassandra turned on her stacked heels and strode down the hall to the wide marble entry. She wiped her moist palms on the ruffled apron that covered her knit, lime-green dress, then flung open the double doors with a welcoming smile in place.
Lydia Dibbles, an attractive fortyish matron in a smart pale-blue leisure suit, stood on the sprawling, lattice-trimmed porch. She was a short, buxom woman with bright, violet eyes, a generous smile in her round face, and silver streaks in her auburn hair.
“Lydia, welcome,” Cassandra said with a little too much relief in her voice. Maybe the other woman wouldn’t show up after all and they would be saved the embarrassment of this doomed “double date.” “Come in, please come in.”
Lydia stepped inside. “Thank you, Cassie. My, you look pretty tonight. Your cheeks are red as roses. I bet you’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day.”
“You could say that. May I, um, take your coat?”
Lydia shrugged. “I don’t have a coat, dear.”
Cassie laughed self-consciously. “Of course you don’t.” She was about to shut the double doors when she spied another figure in a gray pantsuit coming up the walk…a tall, slender woman with a brown page-boy and wire-rim glasses.
“Emma? Emma Sorenson?” Cassie asked as the woman scaled the porch steps.
“Yes, I’m Emma. And you must be Brianna’s sister.”
“Yes, I’m Cassie, the oldest.” She beckoned Emma inside. “I’m so glad you could come to dinner, Emma.” Cassie looked apprehensively over at Lydia and added, “Both of you.”
The two women gazed at each other and exchanged polite but curious smiles.
“Emma, this is Lydia,” Cassie said brightly. “Lydia, Emma.”
“Goodness, I didn’t realize this was going to be a party,” said Lydia, looking mildly flustered.
“Just a small dinner party,” Cassie assured her. “Come with me, ladies.”
“You have a lovely home,” Emma stated, gazing around as they passed through the parlor to the dining room. “Such a stately old house. I bet it has a wonderful history.”
Cassie chuckled and said under her breath, “Oh, yes, we’re making history in this house all the time.”
As they entered the dining room, her father came to her rescue, bounding toward their visitors as if two guests had been the operative number all along.
“Well, ladies, welcome! I’m so glad you could join us for dinner.”
“Thank you, Reverend Rowlands,” Lydia said shyly. “I’ve so enjoyed your messages. You have a wonderful way of speaking. I always leave church feeling blessed.”
“Well, thank you kindly. You’ve certainly made my day.”
“Daddy, this is Lydia Dibbles,” said Cassie. “And this is Emma…”
“Sorenson. Your daughter Brianna and I work together at the family counseling center, Reverend Rowlands. She has a heart of pure gold, that girl. Folks love her.”
“Yes, she has a real heart for people,” said Andrew, leading the two women toward the linen-draped table. “And, please, both of you call me Andrew. The title Reverend intimidates even me.”
Lydia twittered, “Oh, Andrew, what a precious sense of humor you have!”
While her father kept their two guests entertained, Cassandra excused herself and headed for the kitchen. “Is the salad ready, Bree? Let’s get this dinner over with before everything blows up in our faces.”
Bree tossed the salad greens. “Let’s not panic. Maybe Daddy won’t mind having two dates.”
“Are you kidding?” countered Frannie as she drained the pasta. “Until a few minutes ago he didn’t even know he was having one date! If you two keep up your matchmaking schemes, Daddy will banish the three of us from this house.”
Cassandra stared skeptically at her youngest sister. “Why on earth would he do that? He loves having us here. We’re all he has.”
“And all he needs,” Frannie said. “Daddy’s perfectly happy with things just the way they are, so why shouldn’t we be, too?”
Brianna placed silver tongs in the salad bowl. “But we’ve got to be realistic, Frannie. Someday the three of us will want lives of our own. We’ll get married and move away. Then who will take care of Daddy?”
“Move away? Speak for yourself,” Frannie said. “I have no plans to leave home. I like it here. I like taking care of Daddy.”
“We all do,” conceded Cassie. “We have a wonderful family. I don’t know of any family as close as we are. But, still, someday one of us might meet someone and decide to…to get married.”
“Bite your tongue,” said Frannie with a grudging little smile. “I’m only twenty-two and I’ve still got to establish my reputation as a serious artist.”
Bree nodded. “I know, but I’m already twenty-four and wouldn’t mind meeting the right man. And with Cassie twenty-six, she’ll need to start thinking about her biological clock one of these days.”
“My biological clock?” Cassie exclaimed with mock indignation. “We’re talking about Daddy here, not me. And my biological clock is doing just fine, thank you.”
“I didn’t mean anything negative,” Bree assured her. “It’s just that you might want to start thinking about having a home and family of your own.”
Cassie put her hands on her hips and stared hard at her sister. “So what is it, Bree? Now I’m an old maid needing a man to make me feel fulfilled? That concept went out in the last century!”
Bree stared right back. “For heaven’s sake, Cassie, I’m just trying to make Frannie understand why we’re