by Brea Viragh
I considered the offer and dipped my head. “You’ll be up and walking in two weeks. I like it.”
His eyes bulged. “Two weeks!” Suddenly the tables had turned. “Who said anything about walking? I promised to listen to you read, not to put in any effort.”
“We each have to make strides. Me to be a better person, you to walk. That’s my deal.”
“You’re pushing it, Red.”
“I’m being optimistic, true, with the two-week timeline.” I rubbed my chin. “But if this plan works, then I’ll be free from—” I paused and mentally edited out the words I wanted to say. Words like psychopath. Like unhinged. Like dark fantasy. Like oh boy, I might be in trouble.
“—this responsibility,” I finally finished. “I don’t want you to lie there and listen. You need to act. I understand you may be a little shocked.” I kept the laughter to myself at his expression. “You can take your time to think and process, if you want. I’m dead focused on our mutual satisfaction. I think we can come to a treaty to benefit the both of us.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Smiling, he was an attractive guy. I hated myself for the thought and dashed it the moment it birthed in my mind. Incredulous at my traitorous brain, I could only stare out the window. My reward was a tingle of tension behind my forehead.
“Exactly,” I replied.
“What do you think?” he pushed. “I’m willing if you are.”
“I think it’s the first decent thing to come out of your mouth since I met you.” I ignored the roguish glint in his eyes. “After all, we can both agree you want me gone. I want to leave. And you need to walk.”
“Let me see if I understand. You agree with something I’ve said? You want to take on a friendly wager?”
I shrugged again. “It’s a deal.” I held out my hand and couldn’t help the victorious grin. It took Finn longer than expected to reach out for a hesitant handshake.
A spark of static electricity zapped between our palms when they touched. I broke the contact and backed away. “It’s done.”
Finn shook his head. His gaze had an introspective cast that would have troubled me if I’d thought about it too long. “This is going to be interesting,” he mused.
“You’ve said a mouthful.” I glanced down at my wristwatch and noted the time. “I’m done for the day. You should rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“You’re missing the point. Typical male.”
“Why do you hate my guts, Red?” He posed the question innocently. “Could it be something I’ve said?”
“Your guts are of no consequence to me. It’s what you represent. It’s how you speak. It’s how you look at me like you only see a walking vagina.”
I swooped toward the door, still in the throes of what I perceived to be an easy win. A week or two of intense work and he’d be on his feet. I’d be the victor in no time. I needed to get to the library and take out some books on physical therapy. Talking to Nell wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, either.
I stopped in the doorway, turning at the last moment. “Just so we’re clear. If I’m going to stay, then you come up with something a little better than Red. Use your imagination.”
With the retort hanging in the air, I let the door slam behind me.
CHAPTER FIVE
Trista Shayne was happy to have her only child home. But I hadn’t been ready to return. I hadn’t been ready for her questions, for my favorite meal on plates resurrected from my childhood. For a life outside of the tidy package I’d made for myself…for any of it.
When I’d first arrived at the sprawling split-level, I had been driving for over six hours with a break to pee and little else. I was in the grey area between exhausted and wired, where I existed on a mixture of both.
It had been so like my mother, I thought, to sneak in little comments about her opinions and her plans along with gushing enthusiasm for my arrival. How she expected our future to unfold. How I’d been selfish for staying away so long. She didn’t know about Ralph’s congestive heart failure. The nights I stayed awake praying for a miracle. None of it had been my secret to tell.
The house atop the hill had survived years of merciless winters and balmy summers, along with its fair share of failed restoration projects. I thought about the foundation issues with a hint of guilt. Benign neglect still fell into the category of neglect.
Neither I nor my father had found the time to help Trista with the upkeep, though she lived alone. The English ivy had taken over one of the outbuildings and buried it in a riot of green even in winter. There were boards creaking and loose on the porch, shingles in need of a good nail to hold them in place. The whole house could use a layer of paint.
Sailing along on the drive, I’d remembered the day I moved to Tennessee with my father, Ralph. He’d been nearly six months sober, had quit his job, and sold the rest of his things before packing the car to head out of town. He hadn’t wanted his daughter with him. Daddy’s girl, I’d been determined to take care of him despite my age and size. It wasn’t long before we’d realized we needed each other to survive.
God, if I’d known then what I knew now, I’m not sure I would have made the same choices. People always say that, don’t they?
It was probably good I hadn’t known. Because everyone needs to make mistakes. I should have watched his diet better. Made sure he took care of himself instead of working intense swing shift hours. I should have looked at this, and done that, and a dozen other things to prevent the car accident. If he hadn’t taken his medication and fallen asleep at the wheel, I wouldn’t be in Heartwood.
Now, I closed my eyes for a brief second to blink away the fuzz, the radio blaring in the background as I drove to my cousin’s apartment. Mistakes are the only way to grow, to realize you’re growing and decide not to take the wrong turns again. I had the opportunity to do better, and I would hold onto it. Tight.
I left my mother in the morning with a promise to return for our weekly dinner together. She’d prepared a salad and steak with no concept of what food I liked anymore. She remembered me at two, at five, when I was content with chicken nuggets and French fries. The two of us kept our dinner dates each week because of obligation on my part and denial on hers. She hated to think I didn’t need her, had never needed her.
Trista worked the graveyard shift at a cabinet-making factory over the county line. Which meant I was in bed when she left and tried to get gone before she returned. It left us little time to get reacquainted. I preferred to sidestep the torture.
Before I strapped myself to the kitchen table to endure Trista’s endless rounds of interrogations about my thoughts, feelings, and general well-being, I had some questions for Nell.
Once I was in the parking lot, I flipped the key to turn off the car and sat for a moment to gather myself. I’d done it. I’d cut ties with my fake friends and the life I’d thought I’d wanted. I’d come home to Heartwood, met a wonderful man, and had two feet firmly on the road to success. I was determined to stay on with a volunteer position I didn’t want, with a man who made a rabid raccoon seem like good company.
Sure, dealing with Finn might be an issue, but in two weeks the matter would be settled. The more I thought about it, the more my anxiety slipped into incredulity. I was here. I was surviving.
My cuticles had been chewed to bloody nubs, but putting the maiming aside, I’d say my time had been a success.
While I rode high on the swell of emotion, I took the car keys in hand and walked up a short flight of stairs to the apartment. Rapped my knuckles on the door.
Nell Quade answered seconds later. The latch clanked against the wood and a single hazel-colored eye peered out at me from the crack.
“River!” she exclaimed in a singsong voice.
The door flew the rest of the way open and before I caught my bearings, I was drawn up in a hug, the muted scent of apple-flavored soap teasing my nostrils.
“Hi sweetie, it’s good t
o see you.”
I felt like a troll next to her. Tall where she was short, average where she was beautiful. Mousy reddish-brown hair next to her deep espresso.
Nell smiled up at me, a good half a foot shorter. “I’m surprised you haven’t come over sooner. We’ve seen each other, what? Twice since you moved back? Twice in six months? Ridiculous.”
I palmed the car keys tighter, shaking my head. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied with the job hunt and keeping up with the Internet data entry stuff online. Tying to handle things with Weston is a whole other matter.”
Something in my voice must have hinted at my displeasure. She clucked her tongue. “I understand. Moving can be a bitch. Men can be too.”
“Yeah, I agree, on both counts. You know what else can be a bitch? Living with your mother and tackling the world of physical rehabilitation.” I massaged my temples. Would Nell know this was a stall tactic to avoid spending time with Trista on her day off?
“I understand. I’d wanted to move out of my mother’s house since before I could talk.” Nell gestured over her shoulder. “Come on inside. I’m finishing up the packing.”
“Packing? Are you going somewhere?” I closed the door behind me, staring around at her personal brand of organized chaos.
“Out of town,” she told me with a conspirator’s whisper. “Kai and I are having an impromptu honeymoon. It’s his spring break so we’re taking a trip to Myrtle Beach.”
“Ah, your boy toy.” I watched her cross to the sofa where two suitcases already sat. “My memory is shit, I’m sorry to say. I can’t remember much besides his name.”
Kai, rhymes with sky, did something with computer graphics and was the love of Nell’s life. I envied Nell her certainty.
“He’s finishing up his degree and wanted to coast on neutral before finals roll around. We’re taking a few days to relax, kick up our feet. Have sex on the beach at midnight. Off-season means better prices and less crowds.” When I refused to budge, she pointed at the seat with undeniable authority. “Sit. You can keep me company while I finish.”
My thumb made its way between my lips, teeth latching onto shredded skin. “It’s fine. I prefer to stand. I just finished a rather intense argument and I’ve got some nervous energy to work out. Plus, I have dinner with Mom later.”
“I bet you’re stressing. June told me how you and Finn were going at it this afternoon. Said it didn’t go so well the other day, either.”
My eyes rolled of their own accord. “News travels fast.”
I debated telling her about the bet Finn and I had made and bit my tongue instead. That was something better left buried. Six hundred and fifty feet under the darkest memories in my subconscious.
And buried right along with our bet? The strange, inappropriate attraction I’d felt for the jerkoff.
“It was a pretty typical argument,” I told Nell. “A game of he-said, she-said until I decided I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I had to get out before I strangled him. My image can’t take another blow.”
Nell grabbed a sweater from her counter and shot me a dazzling grin before wrapping it around her waist. “You’re doing a great thing. I’ve heard he can be a little hard to handle, from the grapevine news team, as I’ve never met the guy myself, but someone like you can whip him into shape in no time. You don’t tolerate bullshit.”
“You could have found me a better position. So much for familial loyalty.” I dove my hands into my pockets, rocking back on my heels. “You picked the biggest loser in the county.”
“I’m sorry!” Funny, she didn’t look one bit sorry. “I was racking my brain for opportunities as it was. Weston kind of put me on the spot. There isn’t much to do around here, unless you want to travel and he said no to that. With your smile and spunk, I figured you could handle almost anything.”
Spunk. I’d heard enough about this supposed quality of mine to last a lifetime. Spunky? Definitely not the adjective I would have chosen.
Nell flopped down on the floor, flinging her hands above her head. The extra material of the sweater landed across her chest in a splash of color. “Why don’t you sit? Please. You’re making me crazy with your looming. I have a few hours before I have to get on the road and we might as well spend some of them together. We can play catch-up. Have a glass of wine.”
I normally wasn’t this awkward. Was I? Perhaps I’d spent too much time in the company of other CPAs, not to mention Weston and his crowd. I’d forgotten how to socialize with normal people. With family.
“I’m not looming,” I insisted.
“You don’t need to be prim and proper with me, River. Sit and kick off your shoes.” Nell used her nose to signal toward my habitual pair of low-heeled, sensible boots. “I won’t tell you if your feet stink.”
“How nice.”
“There’s Riesling in the refrigerator. Grab the bottle and some glasses from the cabinet over the stove.”
“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I asked.
“Nah, it’s fine.”
My eyeball twitched. “You’re driving.”
She shot me an evil glance. “Are you going to grill me or pour? I’ll have two sips and leave the rest to you.”
Instead of arguing, I crossed to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door.
“Today was your second day at the rehab house? How did it go, besides the argument?” she continued. “The place is supposed to be pretty nice. I heard Mr. Price is stubborn and won’t go through with the leg exercises. What a joke.”
“I’m…here. I survived. Not sure if I’m happy yet,” I admitted. “We came to an understanding before I left today.”
“You have a chance to help someone. It’s more than a lot of people get. And Finn Price...” She trailed off, holding in a breath that made her cheeks puff. “He’s a piece of work. He needs all the help he can get, if you can stand him for more than five minutes. I’ve heard some things about him, but by God he’s sexy.”
“I thought you said you’d never met him.”
“I mean, we didn’t shake hands and exchange names. I’ve just seen him around,” Nell admitted.
Finn the rogue. The big bad don’t-tell-your-momma-about-him boy with sex appeal out the wazoo.
“I’m still not sure I did the right thing in agreeing to stay on. I mean, he’s one of the biggest pricks I’ve ever met, and I worked in corporate accounting. Auditors are not the friendliest people on the planet. Finn makes them seem like little fuzzy bunnies in comparison.”
“Ooh boy.”
Despite the time of day, the wine slid down easily and left a chilled path in its wake. “Am I stupid for doing something like this to make Weston happy?” I had to know.
Nell weighed her answer. “If it jeopardizes your happiness? Yes. If it’s something insignificant, like volunteering? I’d say no.”
“I’ll take your word on it.”
“Have you found a job yet? Let’s face it, the Internet thing does not count.” Nell switched the subject easily.
I took another sip of wine, staring at a strange painting of a daffodil on the wall. The vibrant petals were painted in neon shades of green and white, with a violent blue streak for a stem.
“Not yet. There doesn’t seem to be anyone hiring within an hour’s radius.”
“What about the accounting office down the street?”
“No. Never again.”
She nodded slowly. “One day, you’ll tell me why.”
“I thought about checking out Heartwood Real Estate to see if they need a receptionist. Once upon a time, I had my license in Tennessee, before I finished my accounting degree.”
“Great idea!” Nell exclaimed. “The guy who runs the place is super nice. Tell him I sent you whenever you decide to go in, and try not to worry. Things have a way of popping up when you need them. Take some time to relax before you jump into work, it will be good for the soul.”
“I’ve been relaxing for the past six months
.” I swallowed more wine, brows knitting together. “Your crazy picture isn’t helping.”
Nell pointed toward the painting. “The narcissus? I found it at an estate sale last week. It grows on you.”
“Most people call it a daffodil. It’s too strange.”
“I’m sure it’s been rough for you, being back.” Nell sobered, downing the last sip in her glass before turning on her side to face me. “You have a lot going on right now, and I don’t envy you one bit. The best I can say is…it gets better. Even dealing with the parental units. I’ll have the cell phone on me during my trip. If you need anything, just call.”
“I will.” I gripped the glass with both hands and let the coolness sink into my suddenly overheated skin. “Thanks.”
She smiled, a secretive gesture. “Sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. I can’t fault you for wanting an escape. And I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” I admitted. Once I came to terms with things, contentment would follow. I was surrounded by the only remaining family I had left, in a beautiful setting, with a world of possibility waiting. Until then, I needed to grit my teeth.
Nell must have sensed my discomfort. “Like I said, I’m available if you need me. If the adjustment gets to be too much to handle, or if you feel like you’re going to murder Finn, or Weston, or both, then I’ll call in the cavalry and we can go out.”
“Dancing?”
She blew the cutest raspberry I’d ever heard. “Puh-lease. We’d have to drive for an hour to get anywhere worthwhile. I meant the bar.”
“I could use a martini now and then,” I admitted.
My eyes widened when Nell laughed, the sound full-bodied and rich. “Sweetie, you’ll have to drive for an hour for a martini, too. We have one bar. It serves swill and swill-light. I’ve spent many nights down at the Tooth and can tell you from experience, it’s not worth the trip unless you go for the straight liquor.”
She continued to laugh when I dropped my head down to my lap with a groan. “Oh, the adjustments I’ve made.”
It felt good to laugh and joke with someone who wasn’t going to judge me on a misstep. Who wouldn’t let my clumsiness impact their opinion of me.