Chapter Twenty-Two

Casey waited fifteen minutes, and then five more, before easing out from behind the curtain, staying in the shadow of the wings. She walked quickly to the back exit and pushed the bar, heaving a sigh of relief when the door opened. She scooted out the door and peered around the corner of the building. No one there. Feeling conspicuous in the daylight, she walked normally toward the front of the theater. She sensed no one waiting, and found herself to be correct. Looking up and down the street she didn’t see Thomas’ car or any others that looked out of place.

Grabbing her bike, she left, pedaling hard. It was difficult to concentrate on riding the rest of the way back to The Nesting Place, what with watching out for the men, and Eric’s paternity resurfacing in her mind.

She found Lillian and Rosemary finishing their lunch. She looked at them, trying to get her mind around the domestic vision of food and conversation with the image of Thomas and the men still resonating in her mind.

“Hungry, dear?” Rosemary asked.

Casey held up her bag. “Already ate. Can I put my leftovers in your fridge?”

“Of course,” Lillian said. “Wherever there’s room. Just move things around how you need to.”

Casey found a spot on the bottom shelf, beside a bag bursting with Romaine lettuce. She closed the door and stood there for a moment, thinking.

“If Karl Willems is Eric’s father,” she said, “then why is Eric’s last name VanDiepenbos?”

Rosemary’s mouth dropped open, and Lillian’s napkin fluttered to the floor. Casey went over to retrieve it. Lillian took it back, but averted her eyes.

“I think you’d better have a seat, darling,” Rosemary said.

Casey pulled out the third chair and sat.

Rosemary cleared her throat. “When Eric was twelve, he and his mother left his father.”

“Right. He told me that. Or at least that his parents got divorced.”

“Did he also tell you he swore never to speak to his father again?”

“Um. No.”

“Well, as his mother didn’t really want to talk to her ex-husband anymore, either, she really couldn’t find fault with it. And when she took back her maiden name, well, Eric took it, too.”

“So VanDiepenbos was his mother’s name?”

“Exactly. He’s always been closer to her than to his father, but even with that…” She shrugged.

Casey understood. “Even with that, he left town. To get away from his father.”

“Sure, partly. Also partly to go to college. But he stayed away long after that. Some because there’s really not much theater here in Clymer—” she gave a little snort “—but also because he just needed to get away from the stress of being Karl Willems’ son. Even if you’d never know it from watching.”

Casey was trying to digest all of this when Lillian abruptly stood up and left the room.

Casey sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your lunch.”

“No, no.” Rosemary patted her arm. “You did no such thing. And then,” she continued, “Karl remarried about a year ago. Eric thought it was best if he came back to make sure his mother was still being taken care of, and just stayed on when everything began happening with HomeMaker. Thoughtful of him, but unnecessary, really.”

Lillian returned with a piece of paper. “I think it’s about time you filled out our paperwork, Casey.” She laid the form on the table.

Casey’s face went hot. “I’m really sorry. If I said something—”

Lillian put a pen down beside the paper. “Just fill it out, sweetheart.”

With a trembling hand, Casey picked up the pen. She hadn’t meant to make them mad. Were they going to kick her out? She’d thought they were getting along well. It served her right, allowing herself to get close to people again. Trying to come in here and dissect a town that had gone on by itself for many years before she’d arrived.

Sighing, Casey lifted her pen to the paper, reading the letterhead. And stopped. The Nesting Place, the page said. Rosemary Pond and Lillian VanDiepenbos, Proprietors.

Casey gasped, the pen falling from her fingers, and looked over at Lillian, who’d resumed her seat. “You’re Eric’s mother?”

The side of Lillian’s mouth twitched. “I am. And proud to be.”

“But that also means—”

“I was married to Karl Willems. Yes. I’m not quite so proud of that.”

A burst of laughter came from Casey’s mouth, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was… It’s really not…”

“I know, dear. It is a surprise.” She slipped the paper out from under Casey’s hand.

Casey grabbed for it. “I really do need to fill that out.”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” Rosemary said. “Now, I’m going to hapkido. Are you coming along?”

Casey had forgotten the invitation. She glanced at the clock, and then at Lillian. “I’m meeting Eric here at two-thirty, to go get food for tonight’s supper. I need to be back by then.”

“Oh, we’ll make sure of it,” Rosemary said. “Now, come along. I think I have something you can wear.”

Casey slid her chair back. “No need. I have my own.”

Rosemary smiled. “Of course you do. Can we leave in ten minutes?”

Casey stopped in the doorway. “Lillian, why didn’t you tell me before? That you’re Eric’s mother?”

Lillian looked down at the table. “Eric’s parentage has brought him nothing but problems. I didn’t see any reason to muddy the waters. Especially since…” She stopped.

“Since you didn’t know how long I’d be sticking around.”

Lillian shrugged.

Casey went upstairs to her room, half expecting Death to be there, gloating about Casey’s newfound knowledge of Eric, but the only one around was the cat, who sat on a chair across from Casey’s room, staring at the doorknob. Casey shook her head and entered, glad she had the place to herself. Going straight to the wardrobe, she pulled out her Dobak and set it on the bed. She put her hair up in a knot, tucked her Dobak under her arm, and went back downstairs.

Rosemary joined her in the front room several minutes later, already wearing her uniform. “I don’t like to bother with changing there,” she said. “It’s much easier this way.”

Casey shrugged. “But don’t you get your car all sweaty on the way home?”

Rosemary laughed. “Honey, I don’t work that hard. Now, come along.”

Casey stood beside the Civic, focusing her thoughts, telling herself she could actually get in the vehicle.

“Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?” Rosemary watched her over the top of the car.

Casey took a deep breath and opened the door, jerking back at the sight of Death in the back seat, waving a jaunty hello with a bottle of Mountain Dew. Casey ground her teeth, gave Death a good glare, and slid into the passenger seat. She ignored the back seat and thought of other things, such as the fact that Lillian’s connection to Karl Willems made sense of some things, like how the women could afford the renovations on the house, and that enormous Pegasus Orion in the garage. Although she had yet to see the ladies drive it, or even acknowledge its presence.

Rosemary plucked her keys from the driver’s seat and slid one into the ignition. “We shocked you with that one, didn’t we? Lillian’s relationship with Karl really isn’t one she talks about.”

“I can understand.” A thought struck her. “Is that why people didn’t think Ellen’s children should come live with you?”

Rosemary’s lips tightened. “Yes. Not that it should make any difference, since Karl is not a part of our lives at all…” She turned the key.

“Rosemary.”

“Yes?”

“Does no one here lock their cars?”

Rosemary laughed. “What?”

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