Starting Over On Blackberry Lane. Sheila Roberts

window at the rain dumping on the window boxes of the various shops and buildings, bouncing off car roofs and slithering along the street in streams. April showers bring May flowers, her mom liked to say. They also brought roof leaks and wrecked mahogany dining room tables. Ugh. How long had that water been collecting in her attic before it crashed through the ceiling? And shouldn’t it have given her a warning by dripping a little?

      Except when was the last time she’d been in her dining room to notice any drips? Other than hanging out with her pals for their chick-flick nights, she hadn’t had much of a social life. Her daily schedule consisted mainly of work, eating takeout from Zelda’s or the Safeway deli while watching TV, and sleeping. Repeat. This was alleviated by occasional visits home by the kids, but those visits weren’t nearly frequent enough, and mother-child text sessions never lasted long. Afterward it was just her, rattling around in a house that was as much in need of fixing up as she was. This was her life now that the last little chick had left the nest.

      She missed those chicks. Sometimes Cass could hardly believe they were grown. The slide into this new phase had felt both gradual and sudden. When her three kids were small the chaos of life as a single parent had seemed never-ending. But now, suddenly, here they were, launched and mostly out of the house. Dani was happily married and a mom herself, and her bakery in Spokane was doing well. Willie was graduating from college with a degree in environmental science and resource management in June and this would be his last summer home, although she knew she wouldn’t see much of him. Amber, the baby, was a freshman at Western and was only home during the summer. Between working and hanging out with her friends, she was gone more than she was around.

      Even Tiny, the family Saint Bernard, was no longer there to fill the empty spaces. Tiny had gone to doggy heaven a year ago and Cass hadn’t been able to bring herself to replace him.

      She took a guzzle of her Chocolate Kiss. “My life is driving me to drink.”

      “Don’t worry,” Charley said, picking up her cell phone. “Dan will make everything better.”

      Cass thought of her current existence and muttered, “He won’t be able to make everything better.”

      Charley frowned in concern, but before she could comment, her husband had answered and she was busy dealing with Cass’s crisis. “Thanks, babe,” she said after explaining the problem. “He’s just finishing up the new place on Cedar,” she told Cass after she’d ended the call. “He’ll be right over.”

      “Poor guy, having to work on a Saturday.”

      Charley showed no sympathy. “It’s good for him. Keeps him out of trouble. Anyway, it’s nice that things are booming here in town. Job security.”

      “I hate to bug him when he’s working so hard,” Cass said. “But he was the first one I thought of.”

      “That’s how it should be with friends,” Charley said. “Anyway, he doesn’t mind.” She studied Cass. “So, what else is bothering you? I get the impression the ceiling is just the final straw.”

      “I don’t know,” Cass said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve got a case of empty-nest syndrome. Coupled with getting-olditis,” she added. “I’m going to be flippin’ forty-six next month.” Eew. She consoled herself with more of her Chocolate Kiss. “And you know what comes after that?”

      “Forty-seven.”

      “And then fifty-seven and then...” She finished off her drink. “My life is evaporating before my very eyes.”

      “You’re not that old,” Charley protested.

      “I’m not that young, either. Where am I going? What am I doing with my life?”

      “You’re kidding, right?”

      Cass scowled at her empty glass.

      “You’ve raised three great kids single-handed. You’ve got a thriving business. Everyone loves you.”

      But no one in particular loved her. Other than her kids, of course, and they had to. It came with the territory.

      Oh, well. You couldn’t have everything. “I don’t know what my problem is.”

      “I do,” Charley said with an emphatic nod. “You need a man.”

      “Been there, done that. Maybe I’ll get a puppy and call it good.” One divorce had been enough. Marriage was risky business.

      “Puppies are great,” Charley agreed. “Men are even better. Why don’t you splurge and get both?”

      “Oh, sure.”

      “Online dating, baby.”

      Cass shuddered. “You’ve decided me. I’ll get a dog.”

      They’d just finished the nachos when Dan Masters joined them. At six foot two and with shoulders like a bull, he was a commanding presence, the kind of man you knew could handle any crisis. Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like that of her very own?

      Yeah, but not likely. The population of Icicle Falls wasn’t exactly brimming with men her age. The closest was Dylan Wright, who’d been single for years. Somebody would come along and whip him into shape someday, but considering the lack of chemistry between them whenever he came into the bakery, it wouldn’t be her.

      “So your roof’s leaking, huh?” Dan said, seating himself next to his wife.

      He kissed Charley, and Cass felt a tiny stab of envy. She looked wistfully at her empty glass. “It’s gone from leak to ‘get the ark.’ I have a major flood happening at my place.”

      Dan shook his head. “I warned you that roof was starting to look grim. Up here in the mountains you really need a metal roof.”

      “I think my place was built before there was such a thing,” she said. “Anyway, I’d have to sell a kid to be able to afford a metal roof.” Even with Mason pitching in his share for the kids’ college, she still had a lot of money going out.

      “Well, no worries. We’re supposed to have sun tomorrow. I can come over and patch the leak and fix your ceiling.”

      Thank God.

      “Meanwhile, put out a bucket.”

      “Or a horse trough. I really appreciate it, Dan. I owe you gingerbread boys for life.”

      “You already give him plenty of gingerbread cookies,” Charley said.

      “Hey, don’t discourage the woman,” Dan told her. Then to Cass, “Patching the roof is only a temporary fix. You’re bound to have more problems in the future, so you’d better start looking for a roofer.”

      “And a pot of gold,” Cass said. The restaurant window framed a gray, rainy sky. “Where’s the darned rainbow when you need it, anyway?”

      * * *

      Stefanie Stahl came home with her son late Saturday afternoon from a visit with her sister in Seattle to find that her husband had been busy in her absence. She was greeted by the whine of a table saw, and where there’d once been a wall between her living and dining rooms, now there were only studs covered with an opaque plastic sheet. A fine film of dust had crept out and was covering the hardwood floor in the living room as well as her furniture. She could see a pile of Sheetrock behind the plastic curtain, and beyond that hung one of those lamps carpenters often used when working at night. In its murky shadow stood a man happily creating chaos.

      The day before the bridal shower she was throwing for her best friend.

      That did it. She was going to hit Brad over the head with his hammer and bury him in the backyard under the pile of scrounged lumber that had been there since last August.

      “Daddy!” their six-year-old son, Petey, called and began pawing at the heavy plastic in an effort to get where the action was.

      “You stay right here,” Stef commanded. “It’s