8. To What Good End?

It was a terrible time of year to be moving. The average temperature in Havre de Grace in January 1996 was a toasty 16 degrees! The three-hour drive from Frostburg took over nine hours. At one point along the way, Mary lost control of her vehicle. In hindsight, pulling a small U-Haul trailer was a very bad idea. She should have put everything in storage and taken just enough for her and Lizzy to live out winter in Havre de Grace.

Instead, high up in the Appalachian Mountains, she was coming down Nicholas Ridge, trying to apply just enough braking to keep the car from going too fast, and little enough not to burn out the brakes.

Obsessed with what her feet were doing, she was late in noticing a set of brake lights on an eighteen-wheeler a half-mile ahead. Mary swerved to avoid collision and the trailer began to fishtail.

As it started to slide off the road, its right wheel airborne over a serious drop-off, Mary gunned the engine. The trailer swung back onto the gravel pavement. It took another couple of hair-raising snaps at the steering wheel to regain full control of the vehicle. Lizzy slept through the entire nightmare.

There were tight, long hugs to go around when Mary stepped out of her car in the driveway on Strawberry Lane. Well after 9 pm it was dark out, and the exterior light that Ed had installed at the back corner of the main house barely provided enough illumination to be of much help to the girls.

They would leave for tomorrow, later in the day when temps were at their warmest, to unpack the vehicle. For now, the most precise cargo, of course, was a 27-month-old little girl, sleeping in her car seat, sucking her thumb and holding tight to her doll, Becky.

For the first few months, things were looking good. Mary and Cassie got along incredibly well. The time apart had allowed each to grow in areas that needed growing. Each had gradually drifted farther from their prior extremes and could now find more common ground than ever.

For her part, Mary had begun to ‘get adult,’ as she put it, once Lizzy was born, and especially after Jordan bailed on her. Her motherly instincts had kicked in, and her first and primary thoughts were always about what was best for Lizzy.

That same motherly instinct began to surface in Cassie, or Aunt Beebs, as Lizzy called her. She loved her niece beyond words, and every waking moment was all about Lizzy this and Lizzy that. The only thing that pulled her away from her niece was her duties at the church.

Had it not been for Mary’s frantic call on Christmas Day, Cassie had all intentions to speak with Father Mac and tender her resignation right after the new year. But Mary and Lizzy changed all of that. Starting a new job would simply be too much, along with the enormous upheaval brought about by the two new occupants on Strawberry Lane.

Unfortunately, Cassie’s smothering attention to Lizzy had a most unwanted negative effect. It gave Mary time to be alone – with her thoughts. With her demons. Before long, she was arguing with Cassie over her desire to “go out and have a little fun.” Cassie dreaded what her permission might let loose. And she was right to harbor that fear. 

By April, Loser #7 was in the picture. His name was Donny. Right from the first moment, Cassie didn’t like him. He was taking a little time off as a truck driver, to “find my true calling.” It took little time for the sisters to be at each other’s throats. And, of course, not far away was a little girl hiding in a closet, hearing it all.

The warm weather of summer was most conducive for Cassie to move on. She had enjoyed several helpful conversations with her surrogate Havre de Grace family. The best advice naturally came from Father Mac, who was now fully retired and living at Graceful Pines. By now, Aunt Ruth had passed on.

In a somewhat bizarre turn of events, Cassie had received an invitation from the Cathedral of St. Patrick in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Years later, she would learn that this outreach came because of Father Mac’s last meaningful intervention.

The story went something like this. After Cassie had threatened Pastor Jesse to either leave or get his act together, the young deacon did the most honorable of things. He confessed to Father Mac. The latter, recognizing the overwhelming good in his protégé, encouraged him to stay. But he also knew that Cassie would have to move on.

Father McMurphy discussed this situation with his superior at the Baltimore diocese. As it happened, the archbishop had just returned from a conclave where he learned that the Harrisburg diocese needed someone to work with its Reverend Father, someone with office management skills.

That it might have been a match made in heaven was perhaps truer than any simple figure of speech. Cassie traveled to Harrisburg for the interview and was offered the position on the spot. She declined to accept before talking it over with “loved ones.”

While that group included her sister, Mary, her main concern was how Father Mac would take the news. To her surprise and delight, he was all for it. When she thanked him and said goodbye, she had no idea she would never see him again.

The car idled in the driveway, fully packed and ready for the long trip. With her hands gripping the steering wheel, she looked around one last time. In front of her was the garage, with its guesthouse apartment above. She eyed the night light her dad had installed over the back drive. She smiled as she recognized the brick pavers down the driveway, that her grandfather, Billy, had laid back in the 70s.

Before she slid the gearshift into reverse, Cassie gave one last-minute of thought to the decision. Today would be her own personal Independence Day. She decided, then and there, that July 4th would no longer be just a sad memory of her father’s death.

Instead, some 220 years after the original declaration, Cassie declared July 4^th, 1996, to be her Independence Day. That was the day when Cassie moved to Harrisburg, leaving Mary and Lizzy to persist on their own. Cassie knew the tremendous love and strength of the Havre de Grace community. Her sights were now entirely on her own future.

With Cassie on her way, Mary secured employment at the local Walmart, relying on sufficient references from Frostburg.

But leaving Lizzy behind was much harder than Cassie could ever have imagined. As a negotiated consolation, Mary and Cassie agreed that, once she settled in, Cassie would have Lizzy for one month during the summer and two weeks over the winter break – every year!

In Harrisburg, the details weren’t all lining up as planned. Wages from the church were less than what she had been earning in Havre de Grace and much less than what she needed to meet expenses. A second job was necessary.

To her rescue came her new employer, Father Dominic. It took just a few calls, and within two days Cassie was offered a job with a small insurance agency, managing accounting functions.

Six months later, both girls were doing their respective love dances. Cassie had met a young man named Danny Carter. He had come in to pay his insurance premium in person, and there were sparks. Cassie was now 25 years old, and a solid romantic relationship was long overdue.

Sadly, the romance with Danny Carter only lasted nine months. While he was a nice guy, with no obvious vices, he had baggage. A lot of baggage. The more she got to know him, the more she realized that he needed to work through some issues. And it was her opinion that he had to do that on his own. She had learned from observing her sister that you just cannot fix someone. They need to fix themselves. They must want to fix themselves.

By the fall of 2003, Cassie had been with Cathedral for seven years. Over that time, she acquired additional responsibilities, many of which she had initiated on her own. Her latest idea was to start a Young Couples ministry, which she pitched to Father Dominic. He readily consented and put her in charge of its development and direction.

For the next four years, Cassie became more and more a pillar of the local church community. She had been giving thought to trying, again, to find a nice young man, settle down, and start a family. In April 2007, she even met what might have been a decent prospect for the assignment. Charming, owned his own business, active member of the church. All good!

But before she could initiate anything of substance, there came a phone call from the Havre de Grace police department. It was a warm Tuesday evening in July. The 17^th, to be exact.

While Cassie’s life had been stabilizing, even growing nicely, Mary was at last getting her act together. Keeping a New Year’s resolution, she jettisoned Loser #7 in February of 1997. Then, in March, she started going to church – believe it or not.

This time on her own had been good for Mary. This rejection proved to be the last of the losers in her life. Instead, she decided to transfer her Frostburg college credits to Hartford and get an associate degree. It would take two years of part-time studies, all the while juggling being a single mom. But on December 18, 1999, Mary earned her degree in Elderly Care. Cassie was in the audience cheering her across the stage.

Three weeks later, she secured a position at Graceful Pines Senior Center. Working as a nurse’s assistant, she was assigned four patients. Her favorite was Father Mac. And she considered it the saddest and yet proudest day of her life when she held his hand as he passed.

From January 2000 through July 2007, life had settled into peaceful routines for both girls. Mary enjoyed her work at Graceful Pines. She delighted in watching Lizzy grow from a curious seven-year-old into an argumentative and fiery teenager. Twice a year she would visit her Aunt Beebs in Harrisburg. And in between those delightful visits, Cassie would focus on her work at the church and insurance agency.

All of that changed on a rainy night in July 2007. It was a Tuesday, the 17^th when Mary heard someone knocking. “Coming!” she yelled, as she wiped her hands on a towel that hung on the stove handle and headed down the stairs. Just as she was peering through the peephole, the front door was kicked into her face.

There, filling the doorway with utter rage and hysteria, Jordan Sparks bellowed, “Where is she? Where the hell is my daughter?” He pushed her to the floor, as he yelled, “I want to see my daughter.”

“She’s not here,” Mary screamed, rushing as she did to get her phone. While Jordan stormed up the stairs, fumbled around, and came down more incensed than before, Cassie had dialed 911. “Where the hell is she, bitch?”

“I told you. She’s not here. She’s visiting a friend.” That’s when she noticed the gun in his hand. She tried to calm him down, desperately hoping to hear approaching sirens. Instead, she heard the distinct click of a gun being cocked. “I’ll find her without you. Hooking up with you was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Die bitch!” She tried to stop him but failed. Jordan darted from the garage but didn’t get far. Ed’s night guard had just stepped out for a smoke when he heard the gunfire. Inside, Cassie lay crumpled on the bottom two steps, blood spreading from her head.