Free Autumn Dreams by Gayle Roper Page B

fill in the holes.”
    Even Brenna laughed as he loaded his Corelle with two pieces of quiche, two sticky buns, and two large serving spoonfuls of leftover fresh fruit.
    “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” he said.
    “Personally, I don’t know why it doesn’t go to waist.” Cass put her hands on her rounded hips. “Just looking at that plateful makes my clothes feel tighter.”
    It was a rush, but Cass and the kids made it to church on time. Immediately Jared and Jenn left her to sit with their friends, and Cass slid into the pew beside her parents. One of the nice things about fall was that getting to the worship service was again a regular part of her life. The frantic summer schedule often made attending impossible. Between cooking and serving breakfast,checking out the weekend guests and readying their rooms for incoming folks, high season Sundays passed in a blur of activity.
    But weekday guests were scarce now, and the rush to prepare for them immediately was unnecessary. The beds that needed changing and the baths that needed scrubbing could wait until tomorrow. The only guest remaining for the week was Dan Harmon, who had left SeaSong on some errand about nine this morning, not that she’d noticed, and Brenna had cleaned his room and bath already.
    Cass sat back in her pew and mentally put her feet up. She sank into the warm anticipation of worshipping. When Paul or whoever wrote Hebrews encouraged the early believers not to forsake getting together, he knew what he was talking about. Personal devotions were great, but nothing took the place of joining with other believers.
    She glanced at her parents. Dad had on his gray slacks, white shirt, and navy blazer. Every Sunday it was the same outfit, winter or summer.
    “It’s classic,” he’d said. “And I don’t have to think about what to wear.”
    “You just like uniforms,” Cass told him. “If not your postal uniform anymore, then your Sunday one.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve got five neckties. That’s one for each Sunday of the month, even on five-Sunday months. That’s as much variety as I want. Of course, when I win one of the sweepstakes, I think I’ll buy a sixth tie, maybe even a black suit, what with all the funerals we have to attend these days.”
    This morning, sitting straight in his pew, he looked alert and full of life. So did Mom. Cass studied her mother with care. Her blue tweed suit over a blue shell was neat and tidy. Her curly hair was well combed and her eyes sparkled as she reached across Dad to squeeze Cass’s hand.
    “Good morning, Cassandra Marie.” Mom smiled. “How are you today? It’s good to see you. It’s been so long. You keep too busy at SeaSong.”
    Cass smiled back and nodded. Mom, she realized, didn’t remember seeing her on Friday. Which meant she didn’t remember the search for Aunt Elsie either. Was that good or bad? As the congregation stood to sing with the worship team, Cass felt thefamiliar desperation Mom often invoked these days.
    Oh, Lord, what should I do? How can I stop these attacks?
    The most frustrating thing about Mom’s periodic descents into senility was that the brothers claimed that Cass was the one with the problem.
    “Come on, Cassandra,” Tommy said in August at the picnic Will and Lucy held as a bon voyage party for him and Rhonda. “Mom’s as sharp as ever.”
    Will and Hal stood beside him and nodded. “Nothing wrong with Mom,” they agreed.
    “Guys, she got lost and couldn’t remember her way home! She had to ask for directions.”
    “Haven’t you ever gotten lost?” Tommy said, clearly unhappy with the conversation. “Ease up, Cassandra.”
    “Not coming home from the grocery store I’ve shopped in for almost fifty years,” Cass retorted.
    But the brothers weren’t listening anymore. They were edging away to jump in Will’s pool.
    The fact that the brothers didn’t see what was so obvious to her wasn’t what annoyed her most, though it definitely bothered her.