by Rebeca Seitz
Satisfied that the business was on track for success, Kendra dropped her hands and sat down in the bright red swivel chair at her desk. Finding a red desk chair wasn’t the easiest endeavor, but Joy’s point about color hadn’t been taken lightly.
Kendra opened her laptop and waited for it to power up. In a few minutes she had her inbox open and watched the screen as e-mails from women wanting to become Sisters, Ink members poured in. Her lithe fingers, strong from years of sculpting and painting, flew over the keyboard as she created a member ID for each woman, processed her small membership fee payment, and e-mailed a welcome to the new member.
She smiled at the thought of these women finding other ladies with whom they could scrapbook. Romance was great, but who could make it through life without girlfriends?
Hearing the creak of the back door, Kendra turned to greet the visitor.
“Joy!”
“Kendra! Hey, you’re here!”
Kendra got up and met her sister near the door. “Here, let me help you.” She took a box from Joy’s overloaded arms and set it on Tandy’s nearby desk. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I could ask the same of you, my long-lost sister. Why are you not answering your phone?”
“I am.”
“Then why are you screening my calls?”
“Oh, please. I’m not screening your calls.” Anymore, since it’s not working. “I’ve just been busy with Tandy’s wedding painting and haven’t had a chance to talk.”
“You can’t speak to your sister and paint at the same time? Isn’t that the purpose behind these little headsets?” Joy pointed to the Bluetooth device on her right ear. On a person as tiny as Joy, the earpiece looked gargantuan. It’s dark plastic stood in stark contrast to her pale Asian skin.
“I think they make those so we’ll all look like Trekkies.” Kendra held up her hand in the signature Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper and all that jazz.”
“I’ll believe that when they’re able to beam me up. A matter-relocation device would have come in handy with these boxes.”
Kendra pulled the flaps free on one of the boxes. “Yeah, what’d you bring?”
“Simply a few more items to make our humble offices a bit more businesslike yet warmly inviting.”
Kendra chuckled. “You are such a Martha Stewart wannabe.”
“I wouldn’t make fun if I were you. Martha Stewart seems to have done well.”
“If you overlook one small stint in jail.”
Joy turned her delicate head and sniffed. “You know we do not speak of the Incarceration.”
Kendra stifled a giggle at Joy’s proper manner and well-modulated tones. One trip to the Tennessee Performing Arts Center in Nashville when she was in the fifth grade, and Joy’s tomboy behavior vanished forever. For weeks after the theatre trip, the entire family had endured Joy’s repeating, “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.” They all thought she’d never give it up; and, indeed, it took Momma telling Joy that a proper lady is always aware of the effect of her presence on those around her to put a stop to the “rain in Spain” line. Joy was changed, forever, though. Her love of all things etiquette-related never waned.
Kendra pulled out a desk organizer. Of course Joy would want to put everything at the Sisters, Ink offices in order.
“Oh, hand me that.” Joy took the organizer and walked over to Tandy’s desk. “I was in here over the weekend and dared to open a drawer of this desk. I’m telling you, I have no idea how that law firm put up with Tandy’s horrendous office hygiene for so long.”
“What horrendous office hygiene?” Kendra sidled over to the desk to see what had Joy’s nose so out of joint.
“This!” Joy pulled open the middle desk drawer, and Kendra leaned over to take stock. Various pens and pencils rolled among rubber bands, half a roll of breath mints, and a postage stamp. “Can you believe she gets anything accomplished with this sort of clutter literally under her fingertips?”
Joy pulled all the mess out of the drawer and inserted the organizer.
“You know, Joy, I’m not too sure Tandy’s going to appreciate your efforts here.”
“Sure she will.” Joy’s little fingers worked quickly; and Kendra watched, fascinated, as each bin filled with items of like accord. “She may be a bit miffed at first, and that’s all right. But after a little while she’ll see that this allows her to be much more efficient.”
Joy dropped a last rubber band in with its siblings and shut the drawer. “There! All set.” She turned to the front window of the office space. “Now, for this display window.”
“Okay, whoa, sister.” Kendra stepped in front of The One Who Will Not Have Mess. “What happened to playing a near-silent role in Sisters, Ink?”
Joy blinked. “This is a silent role. I’m not telling you how to run the business, just making certain the office looks presentable for any visitors.”
“You just rearranged someone’s desk drawer. I don’t think Tandy’s going to see that as silent.”
“I told you already,” Joy walked by Kendra and continued on to the front window, “she’ll see reason eventually. She was an attorney. They love reason, don’t they?”
Kendra opened her mouth to argue, then realized Joy made a good point. She regrouped and followed in Joy’s perfectly pressed wake to the window. “But designing our window is something we all should discuss, don’t you think?”
“What’s there to discuss? If it mattered to either of you what the window looks like, you’d have done it already. It’s been four months. People are beginning to wonder how serious we are about Sisters, Ink.”
Kendra’s hackles rose. “People are talking?”
Joy shrugged her thin shoulders, and Kendra noticed in passing how artistic the gesture was on her tiny sister. “Not much, but the talk is starting. I was in Emmy’s and overheard a couple of comments about there needing to be a display in this window. I thought it would be easiest to take care of it myself rather than adding something to your to-do list or Tandy’s. We all know she has enough to handle with the planning of the wedding.”
Once again, a valid point. Her sister was becoming downright logical. “Okay, fine. At least let me help you with it. What kind of display did you have in mind?”
“I pulled some things out of the attic that I used in the conservatory last year. Remember the red and gold zinnias?”
“Ooh, I loved those!”
“I thought so. If we put those in the cut crystal vases, we can set up a little autumn scene. I was thinking an antique bicycle to add some height, and then some scrapbook layouts about going back to school, raking the leaves, that sort of thing.”
“Hey, I like that!”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Artsy One. I spend all day matching hair color to skin tone. Putting a few flowers together in a vase isn’t much different, right?”
“I guess not. So what can I do to help?”
“You may get those boxes and bring them up here, then tell me why we haven’t talked in a week.” Joy turned back to the window and climbed up onto the platform designed for displays. On hands and knees she crawled to the far corners. “And bring back some window cleaner and those antibacterial wipes. This display is filthy.”
Ignoring the reference to her weeklong silence, Kendra turned and made a beeline for the boxes. Perhaps if she dawdled, Joy would take the hint and let it go. She slowed her pace and cast about for a topic of conversation.
“Come on, sister, dear.” Even Joy’s raised voice managed to sound cultured. “I haven’t got the entire day for this.”
So much for dawdling. Kendra hefted a box and, swiping the window cleaner and wipes from a deep drawer of her desk, trudged back to the front of the store. “How’s Scott these days?” She set the box down and handed Joy the cleaning agents and a pair of pink latex gloves. Leave it to Joy to own designer cleaning gloves.
A faint frown line formed at Joy’s mouth. “He’s doing well. Working more
than he probably should be, given that we’re not exactly spring chickens. But that’s the way it is with real estate, he says. Follow the boom or suffer the consequences.”
“He’s still selling a lot of property?”
“Oh, yes. The Nashville people love the land in and around Stars Hill. Scott makes certain to drive them down Lindell, where they inevitably fall in love with the idea of living in a town the size of Mayberry.”
“Huh.” Kendra grunted. “If he keeps selling all the outlying property, we’re not going to stay the size of Mayberry much longer.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Joy swatted at a corner cobweb. “These people aren’t home long enough even to meet the townspeople, much less come to a town meeting and really invest their lives in the area. They spend all their time at the office or off on business trips.”
“Then why move here at all?”
Joy pulled a wipe from the container and cleaned the molding around the window. “I asked Scott that very thing. He said they’re in love with the idea of living a simple life but not enough that they’d give up what the city life has to offer.”
“Wow, that’s cynical.”
Joy tossed her head. “It’s not cynical if it’s true, correct?”
“I don’t know. Guess not.”
“For instance, I could say you’re a procrastinator but only because you’re seeking to ensure I forget the question I asked previously, which means you don’t love or trust me enough to share your life with me. All of which would be true, not cynical.”
“Um, ouch.”
Joy stopped cleaning and raised her striking blue eyes to Kendra. “I worry, Kendra. It isn’t in your nature to be so elusive. And when I finally do run into you, I find you at work at the crack of dawn. Is something wrong with Darin? Are you two still doing well?”
“We’re fine, Joy. Great, even. I just have some things on my mind.” Like how I can get out of town for a few days.
“I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If there were, I would have called you.”
“Perhaps there is something I can do, but you would prefer not to have to ask?”
Kendra shook her head. “No, really, I just need to think about things for a little while.”
“You’ve always done this, you know.” Joy went back to scrubbing.
Kendra crossed her arms. “Done what?”
“Retreated into yourself.”
“Seriously?”
Joy nodded, and the light bounced off her shiny black bob. “I remember once when we were in school a boy said something to you about your hair—it was right after that awful cut you got—and you didn’t talk to any of us for two whole days. Just sat up in your room, doing and thinking Lord knows what, for two entire days. I kept wanting to go see about you, but Momma said you needed time to think it through.”
“I barely even remember that.”
“She said you were smart enough to know your beauty didn’t come from a haircut but from within.” Joy finished scrubbing a difficult spot, then sat back on her heels. “There, I think that about does it.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes and looked up. “Did a boy say something about your hair again?”
Kendra stared, not sure if she was more surprised by Joy’s insight or by the fact that she hadn’t seen it coming.
“Maybe something along those lines.”
Joy removed her gloves, tossed them in the box, and then began unpacking the box and arranging items in the window. She nodded ever so slightly. “I thought it might be. It’s all right if you don’t want to speak about it. Just wanted to remind you your beauty doesn’t come from a haircut.”
Kendra watched Joy move products this way and that, sit back to review, then lean forward to move something to a better location. She waited, but Joy didn’t seem inclined to add any further wisdom, and there was an inbox full of membership requests waiting.
“I guess I should get back to work.”
Joy didn’t even look up. “Go right ahead. Don’t let me stop you.” She reached out to tug a zinnia, and Kendra turned away. “Hey, Kendra?”
Kendra glanced back. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Kendra grinned, and the tightness in her chest loosened. “Back at ya, Martha Wannabe.”
“Don’t mock The Martha!”
Kendra laughed and walked back to her desk. As she plopped into her red seat, the phone rang. “Sisters, Ink.”
“Hello, I’m looking for some female companionship, and I understand your company can help me find it.” Kendra’s heart stopped at the familiar voice. Harrison was calling her here?
“I’m sorry, sir—” she played along, twisting the phone cord in her fingers—“we’re a company that networks scrapbooking women. I believe you’ve misunderstood our mission.”
“Well, then, I beg your forgiveness and ask that you allow me to make it up to you.” The smile in his voice was unmistakable, and gooseflesh rose on her arms.
She shivered. “Oh, no apology necessary. I’m curious, though, how you knew to call us?”
His deep-throated chuckle went straight to her spine, and she stiffened in her seat. “I’m in Stars Hill.” Her breath caught in her throat. What? “Saw you through the window. Is that Joy you were talking with?”
Naturally he had never met the sisters. Kendra forced breath out of her lungs and looked around. If she could stay on her toes long enough, he never would.
“Yes … what brings you to our fair city?” She cast a furtive glance up to the window, but Joy didn’t show any sign of listening to the conversation. Still, there was no need to take chances.
“Since I’m only familiar with one thing in it, I believe you might be able to deduce the reason for my visit.”
Okay, he’d made the hour-long drive from Nashville just to see her. Giddiness bubbled up inside her, but she tamped it down as fast as it rose. The complications that could result should outweigh the giddiness. “I’d hate to presume such.”
“Oh, please do. Can you get away?”
This was an awful idea. If she were smart, she’d tell him to go away. Put a stop to this thing before it got even more out of hand. She glanced out the window for encouragement—and saw him standing across the street.
Harrison Hawkings.
All six feet, curly blonde hair, and green eyes of him was standing on Lindell Street. Her Lindell Street. In full view of everybody. Staring at the Sisters, Ink offices, one hand casually stuffed in the pocket of what she knew to be Tommy Bahama linen pants, holding a cell phone to his ear.
“Oh my gosh! Is that you?” Keep your voice down. A thousand horses’ hooves couldn’t match the pounding of her heart.
“In the flesh. And it’s some mighty lonely flesh. Are you coming to keep it company or not?”
There went the goosebumps again.
“Where’s your car?” Hush your mouth! You’re supposed to be telling him to go away.
He turned and started walking.
See, he’s going away. She tried not to notice how well Tommy Bahama clothes fit his frame.
“It’s this way, by a park.”
She sighed. If she got into his car at the park, half the town would see, and all the sisters would be calling her before lunchtime to get details on the unknown hunk. “I can’t meet you there.” I don’t need to be meeting you anywhere, ever again.
“Too public?”
“Roger that.” Kendra racked her brain for an anonymous place they could meet, but the pressure of getting him off Lindell before anyone could see him and ask questions overrode her ability to think on her feet. And, oh yeah, she was trying not to meet him.
“You still there?”
“I’m here. Just thinking.”
“Relax, doll. Nobody knows me, and they certainly don’t know I’m here for you. I doubt anyone even noticed me.”
He was here for her.
“Trust me. They noticed you.” Her fingers drummed on the
desk, letting the good and bad characters in her mind duke it out.
“How about we meet at the exit before Stars Hill? I don’t remember any gas stations there, so no people would be around.”
“Good idea.” So not a good idea. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” Who needs good ideas?
“I’ll be counting the seconds.”
She waited for the click that signaled he’d hung up, then replaced the handset and stared at it. Harrison Hawkings was here. And she was going to see him in fifteen minutes. Why hadn’t she just told him to go away?
Because you’re you, a small, nasty voice whispered in her mind. This is who you are.
Maybe. Maybe not. She snatched her purse from the floor and headed to the back door. She’d meet Harrison and tell him in person that they had to end things. It wouldn’t be polite to do this over the phone.
Yeah, right.
She ignored the voice, hollered a “Be back in a little while” to Joy, and went out the back door, studiously ignoring the haste of her own steps.
Five
Joy watched Kendra’s little RAV4 turn off of Lindell onto University Drive and closed her eyes.
Oh, Ken …
The signs were all present. Kendra’s secrecy, elusiveness, and now last-minute meetings. It all pointed to the old pattern: Kendra was having self-esteem issues again. Someone must have made a comment or looked at her in a manner similar to that of her birth mother’s boyfriends. Customarily, a look or word was all Kendra needed to retreat into her cracked shell of a childhood.
Touching the Bluetooth headset at her ear, Joy said, “Call Tandy mobile,” and waited for her cell phone to interpret the command.
Sometimes Kendra pulled herself back from the abyss, and the sisters would be relieved of the responsibility to intervene. But the handsome stranger outside talking on his cell might have something to do with Kendra’s hurried exit. And if that was the case, then Kendra was in need of sister help.
“Tandy Sinclair.”
“Kendra’s in trouble.” Joy craned her neck but saw no sign of either the stranger or Kendra’s vehicle.