Prints Charming

by Rebeca Seitz

  Jane shook her head. “That’s not the Lydia I know. I remember a woman who had great instincts about what mattered and what didn’t and rarely went wrong when following those instincts.”

  Lydia chuckled. “I can think of one time they steered her wrong and she lost her best friend for two years.”

  “Those were my instincts steering me wrong. Yours were screaming a truth I should have paid attention to. Maybe I could have saved myself some wasted time and scrapbooking materials.”

  Lydia turned in her chair to face Jane head-on. “I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry I was right about Bill.”

  Jane shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. I should have listened when you told me he was a cheater. I didn’t, and I paid for it. Am still paying for it.” Jane looked around the apartment.

  “Maybe you can quit paying for it, starting this Friday.”

  “I wouldn’t put too much stock in one dinner. He may be having me over to tell me he’s suing me for mental distress on behalf of his cat. But forget my love life, or lack thereof, and tell me what’s wrong between you and Dale. That’s a marriage that deserves saving if it’s in trouble.”

  Lydia smiled. “Don’t worry about us. This is just a little glitch that will either go away or drive me to a lingerie store. I’d much prefer the former, but feel free to volunteer your services if it comes to the latter.”

  “I am so in on that. There’s a great little shop out on West End. I went there to get everything for my honeymoon, and it was in the paper a while back that they were expanding. I’d love the chance to go out and see all the new products.”

  “Great, then I’ll call you if the need arises. I guess I should be heading on home. The twins, I’m sure, are getting pretty hungry by now.” She felt her chest. “I know their Mommy could use some relief.”

  Jane laughed. “You are such a nut. Kiss the kiddos for me, and tell Dale I said hi.”

  Lydia stood up and pulled her shoes on, then headed to the front door. “And you tell Jake I’ve got some heavy lifting at my house if he’s ever bored.” Jane rolled her eyes as Lydia winked and walked out.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Lydia called out as she entered the house.

  Dirty baby bottles and dishes littered the kitchen table; crumbs of food dusted the kitchen floor. A quick glance to the left revealed a sink full of dirty dishes. Lydia tamped down on her temper. Dale knew she preferred to feed the twins rather than use a breast pump and feed it to them in bottles, though it looked as though that knowledge hadn’t prevented him from feeding them a bottle while she’d been out.

  “We’re in here, babe,” Dale yelled. Lydia guessed “here” meant the living room—where Dale could be found more and more often these days. Coincidentally, it was where their new big-screen television was. Lydia knew the presence of one was the direct cause of the other. She walked through the dining room toward the hallway leading to the living room, leaving her tote in her scrapbooking room along the way.

  “Did you feed the twins?” she asked as she came into the room. “And could you please get your dirty feet off the coffee table?”

  “Well, nice to see you, too,” Dale said, not taking his eyes off of the basketball game long enough to acknowledge her, but taking his feet off the table. “Yes, I fed them. What’d you think? They’d starve if you weren’t here to feed them?”

  “No, I thought their daddy could keep them happy for the three hours I was gone so that I could feed them when I got home. Do you have any idea how it feels to have two boulders full of milk sitting on your chest?” She pushed on the offending body parts as Dale looked up at the angry tone in her voice.

  “Olivia was crying, Lydia.” His tone let her know how confused he was. “Was I supposed to just let her cry until you decided to stop playing with your girlfriends long enough to feed her? I thought that’s why you left some milk in the freezer—in case one of them got hungry before you got home.”

  She sighed. “I left the bottle in case of an emergency—like if I was gone for six hours, not three. Did you even try to give her a pacifier and rock her? Did you even think about what it might be like for me when I came home with breasts full of milk and the need to feed my children?” Lydia felt what little control she had over her temper falling away. She knew she was being a bit irrational, but she didn’t care. This feeling of being last in a long line of priorities had been beating on her mind’s door for months. It was about time to answer the pounding. It was either that or let the huge television screen sitting in front of Dale take over her marriage completely.

  Maybe her hormones were out of whack, and maybe she had no reason to go off on him like this, but her bra was about to burst with milk, and he just sat there all comfortable with a remote in his hand.

  Dale sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t think about your breasts. I thought about meeting our child’s need so she would stop crying.”

  Lydia opened her mouth to reply but realized there wasn’t much of a defense for her position. Which didn’t mean, of course, that it was the wrong position to take. It just meant she was too tired to think of an argument right now. She pressed her lips together instead and headed for the bedroom and her favorite reading chair. Plopping down into the soft recliner, she picked up the breast pump and a copy of Karen Ball’s latest release, praying she could lose herself in a good mystery while the horrible contraption sucked away at her body. If anybody could make her forget reality with a gripping story, it was Karen Ball.

  “Don’t fail me now, sister,” she grumbled, opening the book and flipping the switch on the pump.

  As her milk flowed, the thought of apologizing occurred to her. Dale was only doing what he thought was right at the time. Then the machine pulled a bit hard, and she bit her lip in pain. Forget apologizing. Hooking Dale up to this contraption sounded like a much better way to make sure he got the point.

  chapter 9

  Across town, Mac was just putting away the last of her scrapbooking supplies. She hadn’t gotten nearly the number of layouts completed that she had hoped, but some hard work on Saturday should catch things back up. Kesa’s birth book needed to get done so that when Easter rolled around, there would be plenty of free time to devote to an egg-themed layout and a gift scrapbook for Tabby.

  Mac sat at her computer to check e-mail. Logging in, she smiled when she saw forty-two new messages. Between her scrapbookers group, the prayer circle, and a pretty big list of online friends, Mac never lacked for e-mail in her inbox. She deleted all the offers for Viagra and free money from Nigeria, shaking her head at the absurdity folks went to just because they had access to the World Wide Web.

  She nibbled at the last cookie left and read through her remaining e-mails. A little thrill of excitement and apprehension knifed through her when she saw Tabby’s name in the Sent From column.

  Dear Momma,

  Just wanted to let you know Kesa and me are doing fine. Tonio’s momma said she slept all through church today. She’s taking a nap right now, so I’m catching up on my e-mail. I know you were having your ladies over today, so I didn’t want to call and bother you, but Tonio came by again right after you dropped me off. Says he wants to see Kesa sometimes and maybe be her daddy. Not sure what to do about that. Well, I guess that’s all for now. Thank you so much for helping me out today. I promise, Momma, I’m doing right now. I’ll talk to you later.

  Love,

  Tabby

  “Lord, help her.” Mac shook her head. Tonio had no business being in anybody’s life when he still had a problem with meth. Mac shuddered at the thought of precious baby Kesa getting anywhere near the dangerous meth kitchen Tonio went to so much. She’d need to have a talk with Tabby and make sure she knew that kitchen could blow up at any minute. But she knew Tabby wanted so much to believe Tonio could kick the habit. And who was Mac to say he couldn’t? Why, just yesterday a lady had been on Oprah talking about how hard it was to kick meth but that it was possible with a lot of willp
ower.

  “Lord, help him,” she said. Mac wanted Kesa to have her daddy, but not so bad that she was willing to settle for a meth addict in her grandbaby’s life, much less her daughter’s. She clicked the Reply button and typed a quick message to Tabby.

  Dear Tabby,

  You’re welcome for the help today, baby. I’m real proud of the way you’re trying to do right by Kesa. I’ll be praying for Tonio if he’s thinking about being a daddy. Sure would be nice for Kesa to have two parents to help raise her. I’ll be home tonight if you want me to watch the baby for a while.

  Love,

  Momma

  She clicked Send on the e-mail and then headed over to the Split Coast Stampers web site. Minutes ticked by as she read the latest posts on the message boards, making a few notes of new techniques other stampers and scrappers across the country had discovered. She absentmindedly reached toward the cookie plate and looked up when her hand met only crumbs.

  “Now, how did that happen? I know I didn’t sit here and eat every cookie that was left,” she said to the empty room and checked the plate again. Sure enough, all that remained were crumbs and little bits of chocolate chip.

  “I think it’s ’bout time I started makin’ popcorn instead of cookies. This waistline just keeps growin’ and growin’.”

  Mac was just about to exit her in-box when another e-mail popped in, this one from Cecil Cloar. Mac recognized the name as the preacher who’d been down at the jail talking to Tabby when Mac had shown up. She double-clicked on the e-mail and read.

  Dear MacKenzie,

  I pray you and Tabitha made it home all right this afternoon and that things have settled down. Tabitha told me about her new little one as we talked at the jail. I’m praying for blessing on both you and the baby as Tabitha begins to walk the narrow road before her.

  Tabitha told me that you had raised her alone, a task for which I commend you. She is a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders. I also wanted to let you know that, if you need to talk or need some help, I would be honored to offer assistance. The path Tabitha is walking is paved with potholes. Should she fall and you find that another set of hands would be helpful in bringing her out of the pit, please call or e-mail.

  Sincerely,

  Pastor Cecil Cloar

  Mac sat back from the computer and read the e-mail again, seeing Pastor Cecil’s kind face in her mind as she read his words. She wouldn’t call him, of course. But having the option certainly helped to lighten her load. Her mind went back to the image of the tall, broad-shouldered man as he sat beside her daughter in a jail cell, Bible open in his hands. Nearly two long decades since Saul went home to His maker, and thoughts of being with another man hadn’t entered her mind once.

  But Pastor Cecil Cloar just might change all that.

  Mac shook her head and refocused on the screen in front of her. “Silly old lady,” she muttered. “He’s just bein’ nice ’cause your baby girl can’t keep her head on straight.” She clicked over to Google and began searching for ways to put music downloads on the Sisters, Ink site. As Lydia would say, idle hands were the devil’s playground.

  chapter 10

  Jane sat in the grass, holding Wilson’s leash and tipping her face back to take in the sunshine, loving that it was so warm for this time of year. Like getting an unexpected and perfect gift. She pushed her sleeves up, closed her eyes, and imagined herself on an island somewhere that had no bills, no divorce papers, no looming to do lists, and no stranger across the hall. Maybe he could come to the island with me.

  Now, where had that come from? One little invitation to dinner and she was carting them off to a secluded island.

  Jane opened her eyes and stared out across the water. As long as she lived, she didn’t think she would ever understand why Bill would prefer a cyberwoman to the real flesh-and-blood person sleeping in the next room. It had been a year, though, and no word from Bill since the day she signed the divorce papers and put them in his lawyer’s hand. Time to move on.

  “Oh, Wilson,” she said as the dog came and lay down at her legs, “your momma is such a nutcase. Sitting out here talking to you when she should be inside working on Sonya’s fundraiser.” Wilson raised his dark brown eyes to her and licked her hand. “If I don’t get it done, we’ll lose that account. And then how will I pay for your dog food?” She stroked the dog’s velvety ears as she talked.

  “You could always beg Major Carter for her food, I guess.” Wilson perked up his ears and barked. “I know. You’re not a big fan of her. But I’m having dinner with her daddy, so you might want to think about making nice at some point.” She sighed and fell backward to lie in the soft grass and stare up at the sky. Life seemed to be floating along with as little purpose as those wispy clouds overhead, and she didn’t like it one tiny bit. Life’s path and direction had always been very clear-cut.

  “I followed all the right steps. I got an education, then married a nice man with whom I had a good friendship. I didn’t go out searching for or chasing some stupid mythical, Hollywood-glam love thing. I said forever to solid friendship. And look where that got me. Alone in a little apartment. Guess it wasn’t as solid a friendship as I thought. And if I couldn’t make it work with him, what makes me think I should be starting up a new thing with my neighbor?” She wiped a tear as it rolled down into her ear.

  Jake watched Jane from his side of the sliding glass door. Her long hair was splayed out across the grass, dog lying by her side.

  He had no business getting involved with anyone—especially anyone walking around with her history. That right was lost after what he’d done.

  He thought about going out to her, but she might start thinking he was stalking her, and what would he say anyway? The dinner invitation was about as far as he could go right now. Major Carter came and wound her way around his feet. He reached down and picked her up, scratching behind her ears until she emitted a low purr. She poked her paw at the glass in the door and looked up at him.

  “Need to go outside, madam?” The cat turned to look out and back at Jake again. “You’re the only cat I know that refuses to use a litter box indoors like normal cats. We can’t go out there.” Because that would give me too good of an excuse to talk to a woman who can’t be right for me.

  Major Carter pawed the door again and meowed.

  Jake sighed. “All right, we’ll go outside, but let me go and warn her first so that big ol’ dog doesn’t run you up a tree again.” Major Carter looked through the glass with disdain for the dog lying by Jane, and Jake laughed. “Okay, Queen Bee, I’ll be right back.”

  He set Major Carter down and slipped out the sliding glass door in time to see Jane wipe the side of her beautiful face. Was she crying? Maybe Major Carter should just hold it. His ignorant feet refused the message, though, and kept walking toward her.

  “Jane?” he called out as soon as he got within hearing distance.

  She sat up and looked his way, her hair falling down her back.

  “Hi, Jake.” She swiped at her face again.

  “Carter is begging to come outside, and I thought you might want to know in case Wilson is planning another chase.” He nodded to the dog, whose ears had lifted at the sound of his voice or Major Carter’s name, he couldn’t tell which.

  “Oh, sure. Um, thanks. We’ll go on inside.” She got up and brushed the dirt from her pants.

  “I didn’t mean to make you go in.” In his rush to assure her, he forgot his resolve to leave it at dinner and reached out to touch her arm. She stared at his hand, and he wondered if she might bat him away.

  “I just wanted to give you a little warning, that’s all.” He put his hand back in its pocket. “I don’t have a leash for her, though someone recently told me I should get one.” He was rewarded with a small smile.

  “Well, I hear the women around here can be rather bossy, so you might want to take that advice with a grain of salt.” His heart lifted with her banter. “Seriously, I’m sorry Wilson managed to t
ree Carter.”

  “Hey, no problem. The old girl needs a little run every now and then. Keeps her heart healthy. Plus, it’s good for her to learn right off she won’t rule this apartment complex.” He leaned in close and winked. “You should have seen her at our last apartment. She ruled the place.” Her smile grew, and he wondered at how much that meant to him.

  “So what brought you here?”

  “The usual.” He shrugged. No use getting into it. “Just needed a change of scenery and had heard a lot of good things about Nashville. Thought I’d come check it out for myself.”

  “In that case, welcome to town.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go get Carter. She’s probably tearing apart the curtains by now.” He started backing away from her.

  “Right. Go save your curtains, and we’ll just go inside for a while.”

  He stopped walking. “I thought we established I didn’t mean for you to go inside.”

  “You established that. I still think we should go inside. I wouldn’t want Wilson giving Carter a heart attack or anything.”

  She leaned down and scratched the dog’s floppy ears.

  “If we’re going to be sci-fi fans together, shouldn’t our animals learn to coexist?”

  “Oh, nice one. I am not about to become a sci-fi fan, so no worries there. Though you’re right that our animals might need to learn to get along if we’re going to live in the same building.

  Otherwise, we’re going to have to work out a schedule for them.” She tilted her head and thought for a minute. “All right, go ahead and get Carter. I’ll stay here with Wilson, and we’ll introduce them properly. Sound good?”

  Anything that kept her there sounded good to him. He mentally bopped himself in the head. He was being an idiot over a complete stranger—a stranger he should stay at least twenty yards away from at all times, considering his history.