Sisters in Bloom

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Sisters in Bloom Page 18

by Melissa Foster


  Dr. Marsden guided her inside with practiced compassion. “I’ve seen tears before, Kaylie.”

  Kaylie settled into a chair and grabbed a tissue from a little wooden end table. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Wow, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Kaylie proceeded to spell out the events from the night before, stopping to wipe fresh tears and then starting again. She spoke fast and left no detail unexposed. She told her about their incredible lovemaking and how she felt closer to him than ever before. She told her about Lea and the craziness of the previous few days, and when she was done, she lifted her eyes, expecting to see Dr. Marsden’s appalled face. Instead, she saw empathy and, she thought, some sense of pride in Dr. Marsden’s eyes.

  “Sounds like a whirlwind night.”

  Kaylie nodded, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. “I haven’t cried at all. I don’t know why I’m crying now. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “No need to be embarrassed. Kaylie, you’ve had a very emotional time these last few months, with losing your singing jobs, the confusion with your fiancé, and you’re unearthing emotions about your father that you have probably had tucked away for years. I’d expect you to feel something.”

  Kaylie let out a breath. “The problem is, I’m not sure why I’m crying. I mean, we talked through these things. None of it was problematic. He knows my entire past. Every person I’ve been with, every place I’ve gone, everything. And I know his. I feel good about all of this.”

  “Why do you think you cried?”

  “You sound like my sister. She answers me with questions all the time.”

  “Career hazard,” Dr. Marsden teased, but she didn’t apologize. She waited for Kaylie to answer.

  “I guess it was really hard to hear. There’s something else, too. I was relieved that Chaz wasn’t in love with Lea; he was showing me how badly he felt about the whole thing—and he left nothing out, which I hadn’t really expected. And even though he was telling me all of these painful memories, I still told him I was relieved. Does that make me a bad person? Shouldn’t I have been comforting him or something? Because I feel like maybe I was a total bitch.”

  “Did you hurt him or did Lea?”

  “Lea, I just told you that.”

  “Would you have been relieved if they’d been in love when they’d had their tryst?”

  Kaylie pondered the question. “No. I would have probably been angry, even though I know I’d have no right to be. His past is his past, just like my past is mine. I mean, I thought I was in love my senior year in high school, and it carried over to my freshman year in college, but I wasn’t. And if he had gotten mad over that, I would’ve probably been angry with him for it.”

  “And it sounds like the talk you shared was a way to lay it all out on the table, right? No hidden agendas?” She looked at Kaylie expectantly.

  “No. None. In fact, he’s the one who started the discussion. I told him I didn’t want to know, but he told me anyway. He said he didn’t want to ever feel like we had anything to hide from each other.”

  “So you were honest. You said you were relieved. It doesn’t sound to me like you did anything inappropriate—even if it felt like you did.”

  “I just don’t want to hurt him,” she admitted.

  “Kaylie, you’re obviously a passionate person with many things in your life. Sometimes passion comes out as sheer honesty, and sometimes it comes as anger, or pain. It’s good that you care. You two have just removed the cap on your honesty jar. Chances are there’s more to tell.”

  Kaylie fingered the damp tissue. “God, I hope not.” She laughed.

  “Don’t fool yourself. You’ve known him how long?”

  “About nine months.” She blushed, touching her belly.

  “That leaves about twenty-seven years of catching up for you to do.”

  “And twenty-eight for him.” She looked at Dr. Marsden’s calm demeanor and wondered how she pulled it off. Kaylie felt as though she were a living roller coaster ride, and Dr. Marsden never even flinched when she cried or cursed.

  “There’s a whole lot of living in twenty-seven or twenty-eight years. Don’t be surprised if things come out along the way.”

  Dr. Marsden switched gears like a pro. “Have you given any thought to your relationship with your mom?”

  Kaylie groaned. “I know I have to. I’ve just been too busy.”

  “You have time,” she assured her.

  “I feel like I’m in a rush. Like I have maybe a month to get my head on straight before this baby’s born.”

  “That’s understandable, but it’s not really necessary, and it might not be realistic. Change takes time. Once the baby is born, your priorities will change, and you’ll probably take less time to work on yourself. That’s only natural, so allow yourself to relish in your new baby.”

  “I really want to have things pretty well figured out before the baby is born for just that reason. I want Chaz to know he can trust me as a mother.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  There’s that directness again. Kaylie glanced at the clock and knew their time was coming to an end. She pondered not answering until next week, but she needed guidance if this was going to work.

  “I’ve never even babysat. I was always too busy with boys to spend time babysitting. I have exactly zero experience with changing diapers, or even cradling a baby.” Cradling a baby. Craa-dling a baa-by. Kaylie made a mental note for a future song and realized that, for the first time, she was actually thinking in terms of something creative again. She smiled at the thought.

  “Many women don’t have experience with babies before giving birth. Much of what you’re describing will come naturally. Was your mother nurturing?”

  “To me? Yes. Not so much to Danica. She put more pressure on her than me.”

  “So, do you think you had a good role model for the nurturing side of motherhood?”

  Kaylie nodded, more to herself than to Dr. Marsden. “Yes. I do, actually.”

  “Kaylie, I’m not hearing what’s really bothering you, and you don’t have to tell me, but when you’re ready, I’m here.”

  Kaylie felt the fingers of time tapping away. She finally blurted out, “What if I can’t lose the weight, and then I get bitchy because of it? I do that, you know. When I don’t look good, it’s like I can’t let anyone be happy.”

  Dr. Marsden opened her hands excitedly. “I think you’ve had a breakthrough. On that note, we have to end our session, but we’ll have time during our next session to talk about things.”

  “But…How can you leave me hanging like that? Can’t you tell me what to do?” Her annoyance pulled her words forcefully from her lips.

  “Therapy isn’t about giving you the answers. Therapy is about finding the answers within yourself. I just help you find the right path to them.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s okay, Kaylie.” Dr. Marsden stood and patted her on the back. “There’s nothing to ‘get.’ Go home. Think about it. Really allow yourself to think through the things you just told me. Then we’ll talk.”

  “But tomorrow’s Saturday.” Panic prickled her limbs. How had she come to rely on her sessions so quickly?

  “Yes, and since you requested weekly appointments until your baby is born, I’ve cleared Monday morning for you. We’ll talk then.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cooper sat behind his mahogany desk in his plush, downtown office. Before meeting him in person, Chaz had pictured Cooper Short as a stocky, cigar-smoking, balding man. His telephone manners were gruff and direct, his voice deep and raspy. Chaz laughed to himself now, as he remembered the first time he’d met the six-foot-three silver fox. His ski-boarding hobby had yet to diminish as he aged, and his green eyes glowed against his year-round tan.

  “Chaz, my boy,” Cooper said as he stood, his hand outstretched.

  “Cooper.” Chaz s
hook his hand and sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. “Thanks for taking care of this mess.” Chaz looked at the photographs of Cooper’s wife, Belinda, and his three grown children. “Belinda looks beautiful. New photo?”

  Cooper picked up the photograph and ran his hand over her image. “Yeah, took it when the boys were in town last month. She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

  The office door opened and a slim, big-busted woman entered the room donning a smile, tight skirt, and wicked high heels. The quintessential sexy secretary.

  “Shirley, say hello to Chaz Crew.”

  She blinked several times and extended a dainty hand is his direction. “Mr. Crew. Nice to meet you.”

  “Shirley is our new paralegal.” Cooper held up one finger to Chaz and then took the files from Shirley, signing on each line that she pointed to with her perfectly manicured fingernails. “Thank you, my dear,” Cooper said as she walked out.

  Chaz shook his head. “Still playing those games?”

  Cooper leaned forward, set his chiseled jaw, and pointed his pen at Chaz. “It’s all for show. I’d never do a thing, and you know that. No harm in letting them feel good about themselves.” He looked back at the photograph of his wife and shook his head. “I’ll tell you one thing, Chaz, and it’s something you should remember if you ever feel tempted to stray from your future wife. There’s no one who will take care of you like a wife who’s seen you through the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Chaz nodded. Cooper had given him that same advice several times in recent years.

  “And I’ll tell you something else that I haven’t told you before, because now you’re going to have a child, and God knows no one else will tell you this. Your wife will turn into a monster. It doesn’t matter how sweet and sexual she might have started out. When a baby comes, those mama bear instincts take over, and you become second fiddle.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his leg over the opposite knee. “Wait it out. Let her make those baby decisions. Tell her she’s beautiful, because you’ll still think she is, even when she’s all bloated with after-baby flab.”

  “Cooper—”

  “I’m way older than you, and I like to think of myself as wise, so hear me out.” He settled in his chair and leaned forward again. “Wait it out. Raising kids is painful as much as it’s glorious. You’ll fight over the things they do. You might even take sides over them, and then you and your wife are suddenly working against each other.”

  Chaz opened his mouth and Cooper held up his hand.

  “Your old man isn’t around to tell you this, so just quiet down a minute. When those times come, slow down and remind yourself that after those kids are grown, they’ll have families of their own, and while women like Shirley might seem to hold all the answers to your momentary unhappiness, only your wife will ever fully understand what you’ve gone through, and only your wife can truly fulfill all those aching needs that you’ve stowed away for years of T-ball games and broken curfews.”

  “That’s a lot to take in, Coop. Are you talking from experience here?”

  Cooper let out a deep, throaty laugh. “Nah, my father told me that, and any time I’ve been tempted, I hoped to hell he was right. And you know what? He was. I’ve got nothing in common with that gorgeous leggy creature out there. She sees money and my handsome facade.” He ran his hand down his chest with a laugh.

  “You kinda make me want to call my wife right this very second.” Chaz was only half kidding. “You’re not kicking the bucket, are you?” he asked.

  “No, but after what happened to Jansen, and with your impending nuptials, I figured it was time you heard it. Kids these days think relationships are disposable.”

  “Yeah, most do. I don’t. You know my father.”

  “He’s cut from respectable cloth,” Cooper said with a nod.

  “Okay, well, now that you’ve taught me not to cheat on my wife, maybe we can talk about Jansen’s interest in the festival.”

  Cooper shuffled papers and pulled up a report. “Lea Carmichael. Owns several businesses in multiple states. Looks like everything from a large stake in Ralph’s Sporting Goods to multiple music and arts companies, and a few restaurants overseas. Daddy’s money paved the way for her. My associates tell me she’s cutthroat and gets what she wants—even at the expense of others.”

  “Preferably at the expense of others.”

  “So I gather from past restraining orders.” Cooper set down the papers and squinted at Chaz. “Is there anything you think I ought to know before we move forward?”

  “God, Cooper. No. She and I had a tryst two years ago. She was clingy and demanding, and I broke it off. Hadn’t heard from her again until this year, when Max told me that she’d put in a sponsorship donation, but she had requirements.”

  “My best advice is to cut her loose, Chaz. If you love your future wife, cut Lea Carmichael loose.”

  Chaz leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He nodded. “That’s the plan. Max is working her ass off trying to secure sponsors.” He looked up at Cooper. The urgency in his voice could not be masked. “She said she was buying into the festival, and that cannot happen. She called Kaylie and tried to imply that we’d been together. The woman is cancer, and I want her out of my life before she destroys it.”

  “She was playing you, Chaz. She can’t buy into the partnership. You have first right of refusal, and I assume you want to purchase Jansen’s ownership? I already spoke to Jansen’s family and I talked to Claude. He wants to phase out, too. I think Jansen’s demise freaked him out a bit. So if you want to take over the whole festival, we can move in that direction.”

  Ownership of the whole festival? That would give Chaz full control of all legal decisions. He had no one to answer to now, but given the recent events, full ownership would alleviate the worry of future issues. But while Chaz had plenty of money besides his family trust, most of it was tied up in stocks and other investments. He had what he considered limited cash on hand, though to most people, two million wouldn’t be considered limited. He’d have to discuss the matter with Kaylie, which meant that he’d have to let on to her about just how much money he really had. He’d never disclosed his monetary worth to any of his girlfriends—another golden piece of advice Cooper had given him—and Kaylie was no different. Chaz realized his mistake. When he came clean about Lea, he should have also come clean about the money. He scrubbed his face with his hand, wondering how he could be so stupid.

  “You’re thinking of your girl, right?” Cooper asked with a knowing smile.

  Chaz nodded.

  “See you took my advice. Good move. Why ruin it? You can do this without missing a beat. Seven hundred and thirty thousand will cover it. That’s a drop in the hat for you after what your grandfather left you.”

  Chaz shook his head.

  “I know. I know.” Cooper held his hands up in surrender. “Listen, Chaz, you want to be a self-made man. I get it. And you are.”

  “Coop, I’m running my father’s festival and living off of interest from my grandfather’s estate.”

  “You can’t pick your family. You know you’re lucky, right? You come from great stock, Chaz. Your grandfather made his money honestly, as did your father. They invested rocks at the right times and came out with diamonds. Your grandfather built his fortune in real estate and your father, well, you know, software and investing in the entertainment field. Nothing like being in the right place at the right time.” When Chaz remained silent, Cooper lightened his tone. “Chaz, you’ve earned a million in the last eighteen months alone off of investments and business negotiations that you chose. That’s all you, Chaz. Your decisions, your intelligence.”

  It wasn’t that Chaz was embarrassed by his wealth, but he was cautious of how he was seen. Ever since some asshole in prep school had called him a daddy’s boy, he’d been careful not to expose where his initial wealth came from. He’d invested his trust fund wisely, and it had paid off. But still, it all started with a tr
ust fund.

  “Do it. Go ahead. I’ll handle it with Kaylie.”

  “Be careful, there. Money does strange things to people.” Cooper’s warning did not fall on deaf ears.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Danica’s stomach twisted into knots as she opened the front door of the café where she and Blake had first met. Blake waved from a table in the corner.

  Danica whispered, “Excuse me, as she wove around the too-close-together tables. She smoothed her shirt and fiddled with her hands on the way to the table. “Hi,” she said in a thin voice.

  Blake stood and kissed her. “How’s your day going?” he asked as she sat down.

  Danica told him about her morning, the whole time searching his eyes for a hint of what he had on his mind. “How did your inventory go?”

  “That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you, but let me get our orders first. I got you a Caesar salad. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Perfect.” She tried to sound grateful, but there was no way food would stay down with butterflies taking on fight night in her stomach. She watched him cross the café. Calm down. Danica took several deep breaths. You just told him you’d move in. He’s not going to dump you for not marrying him.

  Blake set the tray on the table and set an iced tea in front of Danica. “One Sweet’N Low, two lemons, extra ice.”

  Oh, God, please don’t break up with me! I love all these little things. Danica took a deep breath. Shut up and think positive.

  “Remember when we met?” Blake took a bite of his grilled chicken.

  Danica rubbed her nose. “How could I forget?” She still got the shivers when she recalled Blake’s hand on her arm for the first time, the way her body had responded to his touch, his eyes, his voice, and the way the pain in her bloody nose—which he’d just elbowed—was silent until he’d stolen a glance at a blonde and she’d realized he was just like every other asshole out there. Only he wasn’t. He was so very different. She pushed away that part of the memory and hung on to the rest. She reached for his hand. “Blake, I think we should talk.”

 

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