Duet in September (The Calendar Girls)

by Gina Ardito

  I followed behind my mother, pausing only to turn on the lights when we reached the curved archway near the kitchen. Instantly the room sprang to life and with it, my Grandma. Warm, golden cabinetry, gleaming appliances, the soft, homey touches she and I had both added over the decades put me at ease. I could practically feel my grandmother’s arms around me, an invisible afghan of comfort and support.

  I stood tall, a force of steely outrage, as I looked down on my diminutive mother. She might be tiny, with a designer suit that gave the appearance of a middle-aged professional woman, but I knew better. I knew a shark in Donna Karan when I saw one.

  “Okay.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You’ve got ten minutes.” I’d reserve the additional five minutes for my own questions.

  She didn’t argue. Instead, she stared at me, an insipid grin pasted on her traitorous face.

  “Time is ticking,” I reminded her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just…drinking you in. You’re beautiful, Nia. Stunning, really.”

  “Uh-huh.” I was soooo not buying her butter. I rolled my hands. “Would you mind speeding this up? I have work to do.”

  She leaned a hip against the butcher block counter, the action so like Paige, I sucked in a sharp breath. “Where would you like me to start?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe why you left. Or how about why you suddenly felt the need to come back after twenty-five years?”

  “I came back to say goodbye to your father.”

  “Really?” I retorted. “The note you left all those years ago wasn’t sufficient?”

  “That’ll do, Nia,” she snapped. “I understand you have some animosity toward me, and I will even admit you don’t have to love me, but you will grant me respect. I am your mother.”

  “You lost that title, and the respect it garners, the day you chose some guy with a fat wallet over your family.” My words shook, emotion rattling me. Hurt, anger, and confusion spewed from my lips.“Do you know Daddy died calling your name? He never forgot you, never gave up on the idea that you might come back. Up until he died, your clothes were still in his closet—just in case. In all those years, you never called, never wrote, never took a moment to think about him—or your daughters, for that matter.”

  She dropped her gaze to my terracotta floor, the first attack of conscience I’d seen in her since she appeared on my porch hours ago. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” I repeated, my tone growing shrill. “You think I let you in here for an apology?”

  Her head snapped up, and her hands flew to her hips. “Then what do you want from me?”

  “One thing.” I held up my index finger and waited two beats of my heart. “I want the name of our real father.”

  My mother gasped, and her eyes rounded to perfect azure marbles in her pale complexion. “H-how did you f-find out?”

  At least she had the sense to refrain from lying to me. Score one for her. Which made the current tally a thousand to one, in my favor. “Doesn’t matter how I found out. I want the truth. Not some fairy tale like you probably told my sister.”

  “Paige.” She said the name as if it had just come to her. “Does Paige know?”

  I remained ramrod straight, the power of right keeping me stern and implacable. “That Daddy wasn’t our real father? No. At least, I never told her.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Daddy’s oncologist. They worried he’d need a blood transfusion and tested me as a candidate. Imagine my surprise to learn that he’s not my biological father. That he couldn’t possibly be my father.” I relaxed my posture and leaned on the counter, feigning a conversational stance far from the turmoil raging through me. “So who is?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor again, and she shook her head. “Not now. Don’t ask me now.”

  I quirked a brow. “Excuse me?”

  Her shout nearly shook the copper pans off my overhead rack. “I said not now! I won’t tell you now. Not when you’re so full of hatred you couldn’t possibly understand.”

  The confession hit me like a slap across the face. “Oh, well, that’s ducky, isn’t it? What’s to understand, Mother? Exactly how many men were you sleeping with nine months before our birth?”

  Ruddy color spotted her cheeks. “My marriage is none of your business.”

  “My parentage is.”

  She seemed to collapse into herself, shrinking before my eyes, and she sighed. “You’re right. We have nothing to discuss. I made a mistake coming here. I can see that now.”

  “At last, we agree on something.”

  As she skirted past me, I fired the last volley. “I’ll be seeing the police for a restraining order tomorrow on behalf of Paige and me. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You’re not welcome here.”

  The minute the front door slammed, I sank to the cool kitchen floor and rested my head on my bent knees. I didn’t know who I hated more: my mother or myself.

  Chapter 24

  Paige

  By eight o’clock the next morning, I sat in my Jeep outside the rear entrance to Nia’s store. Sam had promised to meet me in the parking lot. I have to admit, just thinking about him gave me the warm and fuzzies. Knowing he’d loved me for years turned those warm and fuzzies into hot and gooeys. I still couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been, how I’d misconstrued his feelings and Nia’s.

  I had to hand it to Dara Fitzsimmons. Thanks in part to her thirty day challenge, I’d found love. And in a weird way, I’d also been reunited with my mother. Which brought me full-circle to Nia and the reason I was sitting here when I’d normally be snuggled under my comforter in my air-conditioned bedroom at this time of morning.

  Sam’s cruiser pulled up next to my Jeep, and my heart thump-thumped. Nia, I reminded myself. Think of Nia. I was about to ruin her day.

  As he unfolded his sexy bod from the driver’s seat, I quipped, “Did you bring your Taser?”

  After closing his car door, he leaned an arm on my roof and smirked. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. It won’t be that bad. Nia’s an adult. I know she’ll be surprised by the news, maybe a little shocked, but I seriously doubt she’ll become violent.”

  I cocked my head and twisted my lips. “Have you ever talked to Nia about our mother? Trust me. This is not going to go well.”

  “I think you underestimate your sister.”

  “I think you underestimate my sister.” I shuddered at imagined destruction: locusts, famine, boiling seas. Okay, maybe not. Still, Nia’s rage wasn’t pretty. Thank God I brought a sacrifice to appease her wrath.

  Reaching into the passenger seat, I scooped up the cardboard carryout tray that held three coffees. Yes, three. I was an attached woman now and made a conscious effort to think about my guy’s likes and dislikes. In the coffee catalog, Sam preferred black with two sugars. Real coffee, he’d told me. None of that girlie sludge with foamed milk and chocolate syrup.

  He swung open my door and took the coffees from me, allowing me to step out unburdened. Nice. Having a boyfriend sure came in handy.

  One deep inhale for courage, and I strode forward, prepared to battle the Nia Monster. I pulled open the back door and stepped inside to silence. An ominous silence. I’m not exaggerating. Nia loved noise and chaos. She claimed her brain couldn’t focus in a quiet room. To enter the store twenty minutes before opening and hear nothing put me on edge. I stared back at Sam in confusion. He jerked his head forward. Into the Valley of Death…

  “Nia?” I called. Uncertainty raised my voice an octave. “Are you here?”

  “One sec,” came her muffled reply. “I’m in the storeroom.”

  I stiffened. The words were perfectly normal, but the tone not so much. Something was off. Very off. I leaned backward and, through clenched teeth, murmured, “I don’t like this, Sam.”

  He nudged me forward with the corner of the cardboard tray. “Don’t be silly. Go on.”

  I inched into the store. Fine hairs danced on my arms. My stomach kinked. I
reached the customer area and stood, waiting, as if for the firing squad to appear. No firing squad, just my sister came into view. My heart cracked. She looked more brittle than burnt paper.

  “Well, well,” she said with a grim smile. “I wasn’t expecting Sam with you. Does this mean you two are officially an item?”

  Concern overshadowed my earlier happiness. “Nia, you look awful,” I blurted. “What’s wrong?”

  “Bad night.” She waved off my concern. “But you two obviously had a great one. I want details.” She reached for one of the covered cups in the cardboard tray. “And coffee.”

  “What do you mean, a bad night?” I demanded. “What happened?”

  “Coffee first.”

  I fiddled with the cups Sam held until I found the one labeled with a black x in the skim milk box. “Here. Sip. Then talk.”

  Taking the offered cup from me, she shook her head. “I have a better idea. You talk while I sip.”

  I hesitated and glanced at Sam, who gave me a curt nod—the mute equivalent of his vocalized, “Go on, sweetheart.”

  “Umm…okay. Something’s come up that you should know about,” I began. No, that wasn’t right. “Well, actually it’s not really a something. It’s more a someone.”

  Again, Nia waved me off. “No, no. I’m not interested in who’s come up. I probably already know. I want to know what happened between the two of you.” She used her coffee cup like a conductor’s baton to point at Sam and me.

  Wait. What? I actually did a double take. “You ‘probably already know’? What does that mean?”

  “Never mind. Come on. Tell me what’s up with you two.”

  “No.” Impatience spiked my temper. “What’s going on with you, Nia? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now.”

  The smile she offered looked grim. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going on.”

  “No? Two words. Aidan Coffield.”

  Her complexion paled, and her eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. “Who?”

  “Don’t play games, Nia. I met him last night at the clambake. He said you were supposed to meet him there, but apparently you stood up both of us. He also said you’d been dating him for weeks. Weeks. You never even mentioned him.”

  “There was nothing to mention. His stepbrother hit my car. He felt guilty about it and took me to dinner to make up for all my inconveniences.”

  “And the visit to your hot spot?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. He owns a vineyard. When he was in the shop, he saw my grape lamps and wanted to order them for his grand opening.”

  A memory tingled my brain cells. “The flowers! He’s the guy who sent you flowers.”

  Pink color flooded her cheeks, and she toyed with the lid on her coffee cup. “Yes.”

  “The old guy,” I reminded her.

  Her head shot up, defiance shooting like neon from her eyes. “Okay, so I lied. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is why.” I propped my hands on my hips. “Why didn’t you say anything about him? He seems like a super nice guy who’s genuinely interested in you. Why keep him a secret?”

  “Because there was nothing to say. You really think someone like Aidan Coffield would be interested in a relationship with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t someone like Aidan Coffield be interested in you?” Sam asked before I could. “You’re attractive, bright, fun. What’s not to be interested in?”

  I would have hugged him right there if Nia hadn’t snapped.

  “Yeah, right.” Her bitter laughter stung the air. “Especially when he finds out my tramp of my mother has come back to town. Isn’t that the most charming news?”

  I gasped. “You do know.”

  “She came to see me yesterday.” Her voice grew sharper than icy steel. “Looking for a touching reunion. I threw her out. Which reminds me, Sam, I’m going to want a restraining order. You can help us with that, right?”

  “Us?” I asked.

  She didn’t elaborate or wait for Sam to provide details. “That’s why I didn’t show up at the clambake last night. Not because I was avoiding you or Aidan. Mom showed up and we had words. Very hurtful, angry words.”

  “Well, I’m both sad and relieved to hear that.” A new voice intruded into the conversation.

  And there he stood, the subject of our conversation, in the aperture between the hall and the store’s main area.

  “Aidan.” My sister lit up like nighttime on Broadway, all aglow in flushes of pink and red. “What are you doing here?”

  He held up her charm bracelet, a gift from Grandma years ago that Nia wore constantly. “You left this at my house yesterday. I planned to return it to you at the clambake last night, but you didn’t show. At first, I thought you stood me up, especially after I met your sister and she knew nothing about me.” He turned toward me and smiled. “Hi again.”

  “Nice to see you, Aidan.”

  “Same here.” He handed the bracelet to Nia, placing it into her palm. “This morning, I found this on my dining room table and realized I might have judged you too harshly in my message last night. I thought I’d take a chance and stop by. I was going to wait until you opened the store, but your back door was unlocked and I heard voices in here. So I just came in. I hope that’s all right.”

  Nia’s gaze stayed locked on him. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  The minute her fingers made contact with his, her whole face took on a nuclear glow. I stole a glance at Sam who shrugged. This was serious. No matter what she might say in denial, my sister was head-over-heels, stars-in-her-eyes, rainbows-and-unicorns in love.

  I didn’t need to be reminded that a week ago, I was convinced she was in love with Sam. But the electricity zinging between Nia and Aidan Coffield made my hair crackle. A blind, anti-social hermit could feel the heat. While I might be a little dense about matters of the heart at times, I was not a blind, anti-social hermit. What I saw between my sister and Aidan was love. Real love.

  A sharp elbow nudged my shoulder blade, and I turned to face Sam. “Let’s go,” he murmured. “You and Nia will have to catch up later.”

  We slipped out the way we came in, and I doubt either one of them ever noticed. The minute I stepped into daylight, I exploded with excitement. “Holy Valentine, Batman! Did you see those two? They are seriously hot for each other.” I shook my hand as if to cool down my flaming fingers. “Whew! Do you think we look like that?”

  He pulled me up against him. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

  His lips touched mine, and I forgot all about my sister, Aidan Coffield, my mother, and everything else but love. Sweet, gooey, warm, fuzzy love. Mine.

  ~~~~

  Nia

  My mouth dried to dust. While my heart danced in my chest that Aidan had come back, my brain groaned in defeat for the very same reason.

  “What happened last night?”

  His question jolted me back to reality.

  “Nothing.” I opened the cash register to check the small change situation. Fives. I was low on fives. I’d have to take a trip to the bank at lunchtime. Pick up some extra singles to tide us over during the long day.

  “Nia.”

  Why did he always have the ability to make my name sound like a caress? My knees wobbled, but I bolstered myself against the stool behind the counter. I couldn’t look at him. One glimpse of his dark eyes, if I even sensed caring in his expression, I’d fold.

  “You should go,” I said through my dry throat and touched the heart-shaped charm dangling from the silver chain on my wrist. “Thanks for bringing back my bracelet.”

  “Nia, look at me.”

  On a deep breath, I looked up. I couldn’t stop the tears from shining in my eyes. And of course, he noticed. A sympathetic sigh escaped his lips.

  His thumb traced my chin. “What’s wrong, Nia? Talk to me.”

  I shook my head. “Go, Aidan. Please.”

  “No.” This time, iron laced his tone. His posture stiffened, and he
folded his arms over his chest. “You owe me an explanation, and I’m not leaving until I get it.”

  Too much upheaval and too little sleep brewed a noxious cocktail in me. I spewed with the force of an active volcano. “I owe you? For what? For a few weeks spent in your company? Tell me, Mr. Coffield, exactly how much do you charge your dates? Is that where your family’s wealth originated?” I threw my hands in the air. “That must be what we’ve been doing wrong all these years. Wainwright women are known to give it away for free while Coffield men apparently charge by the hour.”

  His lips twisted downward. “Found out about the family coffers, huh? Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I punched a button on the register and when the drawer popped open, I grabbed a fistful of twenties. “Here. Is that enough to pay for your time these last few weeks?” I slapped the money on the counter. “Now we’re even. Go.”

  “I should have known you were too good to be true.” He didn’t touch the cash, but he leaned closer over the counter, all pretense of civility erased from his face. He smoldered, each word hard and hot as buckshot. “But I had no idea you were so seriously deranged. You hide it well. Keep the money. You need it more than I do. Spend it on analysis.”

  “Get out,” I growled.

  For a long minute, neither of us moved. We simply glared at each other. Furious energy flowed in the breath of space between us.

  “Goodbye, Nia.” He turned toward the rear of the store, and I gripped the counter’s edge to keep from running after him.

  This was for the best. I couldn’t continue falling for him.

  I watched him walk away, each stride another crack in my heart. The rear door opened, then closed again. I felt the air change, become heavy and cold. Shivering, I went about opening the store for another business-as-usual day.

  I managed to get through the work day, zombie-like, but functioning. Afterwards, I drove home and climbed the stairs to the front door. No one sat on my porch tonight. Good, I told myself. The only person I’d welcome right now was an axe murderer.