“Were you in the National Forest or at a campsite?” Amiee asked.

“Neither. Dad knew some people who had acreage near Colville, which is a town north of Spokane. A bubbling brook that had fish ran through their property, and Dad got permission to camp out there. It was an adventure—no one else around. We had the entire field to ourselves …” Or so they’d thought, Cassie remembered, smiling now at the memory.

“Were you excited to go fishing?”

“We all were. Karen kept saying if she had to put a worm on the hook she refused to fish, and Nichole stood on the edge of the stream and called out, ‘Here, fishy, fishy.’ She seemed to think she could lure them onto the land so she could scoop up a fish with her bare hands, and then when Dad caught one she wanted to name it.”

Amiee giggled. “How old was she?”

Cassie had to think about that. “There’s a four-year span between the two of us, so she would have been around five or six at the time.”

“Did you have fun?”

“We did until Karen woke us up, screaming hysterically.”

Cassie could feel her daughter relax against her. She enjoyed hearing these stories as much as Cassie enjoyed telling them.

“What happened?” Amiee asked. “Why was Karen screaming? Did a bear come after her?” Wild animals were always a concern to Amiee.

“Not a bear; it was something else.”

“Tell me, Mom, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Okay, okay, remember I told you that a friend of my dad’s owned this property? What he failed to mention was that he’d leased the land to a local rancher who raised cattle. And, in case you didn’t know, cattle are curious animals. They wanted to find out what that funny-looking structure was in the middle of the field, so they came to investigate.” Cassie struggled not to laugh out loud. “We were surrounded by cattle. They leaned against the tent and toppled the table with the cookstove, and then, to complicate everything, the tent collapsed.”

“Oh no.”

“Can you picture that?” Cassie asked. “Mom, Karen, and Nichole panicked while Dad and I tried in vain to get the tent back up.” It’d been dreadful at the time, but the story had Cassie smothering her own giggles.

“Mom, Mom, stop … I have more questions.”

Cassie wiped the mirth from her eyes. “Sorry. It’s been a lot of years since that happened. I’d nearly forgotten about it.”

“Did you ever go fishing in the brook, and did you catch anything?”

“I did,” she boasted proudly. “I hooked a trout and it was a large one, bigger than any my dad caught.”

“Did Karen or Nichole catch a fish?”

“No. Nichole never gave up on the idea she could catch them with her hands. Dad said Karen had to bait her own hook and she refused.” The three sisters had bickered on the long ride home. In retrospect, Cassie realized Karen had been jealous of her. She’d taunted Cassie mercilessly, simply because she’d caught a fish and Karen hadn’t. It was Karen’s own fault, but she didn’t see it that way.

According to Karen, Cassie caught that fish because she was their father’s favorite, which made no logical sense. This rift between them—over Cassie being the favorite—was the cause of so much jealousy.

At age ten she thought Karen had it wrong and that her sister was being ridiculous. In retrospect, she realized her sister was right. Her father did favor Cassie. He’d found a way later that same summer to get her a piano, for one thing. And she was the only one he let trail along with him when he ran errands.

Cassie was the daughter with the good grades, the fearless one, blessed with what he called grit. She was like the son he never had. He taught both her and Karen how to change a flat tire, but it was Cassie he showed how to check the car engine and how to change the oil. When Cassie turned sixteen he’d promised her his mother’s cameo and said Cassie could wear it on her wedding day. Instead she’d run away and married Duke just weeks before she was scheduled to leave for college.

The cameo.

Like the story of camping in the open field, Cassie hadn’t thought about the cameo in years. The memory brought with it an ache—it seemed to symbolize everything she had lost when she became estranged from her family. The cameo was the most precious jewelry her grandmother had owned, and her own mother had worn it on her wedding day. She wondered which sister it had gone to after she left home.

The soft, even breaths of her daughter told Cassie that Amiee had fallen asleep. Gently, she swept the hair off the twelve-year-old’s forehead and brushed her lips over the smooth skin of her daughter’s cheek.

Pressing her head down against the soft pillow, Cassie closed her eyes as scenes from her childhood played through her mind like an old silent movie.

There’d been good times and bad times with her two sisters. As the three had grown older they’d had some wretched fights, but their disagreements never lasted long. At one time the three of them had been close. Even now Cassie found it hard to believe that she had gone years without talking to her sisters. Those years seemed like an entire lifetime.

Sunday morning Cassie had to be at CenturyLink Field by nine. Russell, Rosie’s cousin, had her fill out the proper paperwork, gave her a uniform complete with an apron, and assigned her six suites. Her job was simple enough: She was to deliver the food order each suite owner had emailed the Wednesday before the game. This was a golden opportunity and she was anxious to do everything right. She needed this job, even if it meant she had to work seven days this week. Too much was at stake.

Never having been inside CenturyLink Field before—let alone attend a Sounders game—Cassie was amazed at the size of the stadium. A light mist had started to fall, but a little rain didn’t discourage the fans’ enthusiasm. They crowded into the stands as an air of excitement filled the stadium. Cassie couldn’t help but feel it herself.

The suites were luxurious and for the most part empty while she delivered the first round of the orders. She filled all the refrigerators with the drinks, mostly beer and soda. She noticed Russell kept close tabs on her, which caused her to work all the harder. She double-checked to make sure she had the right order in each suite.

Behind the scenes, the activity was fairly hectic.

Cassie’s next job was to deliver the hot food about thirty minutes before the Sounders match officially started. Everything was going well until she entered Suite 36.

“Hello. Are you one of the servers?” A strikingly lovely blond woman approached Cassie. She was dressed in skin-tight jeans and wore a bright lime green and blue Sounders jersey.

“Yes,” Cassie said. “How can I help you?”

“There’s no Olympia beer in the suite. I only drink Olympia beer.”

Cassie didn’t recall seeing that brand of beer on the list. “I’m so sorry, please let me check. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I know it sounds superstitious, but whenever I’ve had an Olympia when I watch a Sounders game, they win.” The woman had unbelievably long black eyelashes, and her dark brown eyes were wide.

“I’ll find out right away and be back in a flash.” Cassie raced out of the suite, hoping to find Russell. It took her ten minutes to locate him, and when she found him, he looked at her impatiently. “Why aren’t you delivering the hot entrées?” he demanded.

“A lady in Suite Thirty-six wants Olympia beer.”

“What?”

“Yes, she says the Sounders could lose the match if she doesn’t have Olympia beer.”

Russell frowned and shook his head. “We don’t carry that brand. The beverage list is detailed and specific. Tell her she’s out of luck.”

Cassie hated the thought of returning with bad news. “Is there a brand that’s similar that I could take to her?”

“I suppose,” he said with some reluctance, “but adding any additional beverages means an extra charge to the suite owner, and that has to be approved beforehand.”

“I understand,” Cassie said, and hurried back to inform the blond woman of what she’d learned.