Coming Unglued

by Rebeca Seitz

  “Watch it, mister.”

  “Not nearly in the same ballpark as a certain artist I know.”

  “Now we’re talking.” She sank back into bed, pulling the thick down comforter up to her shoulders and snuggling in among the pillows. Darin didn’t deserve a scarred woman, both outside and in, but for now she’d enjoy his attention until he came to the realization. The thought left her cold and she pulled the covers tighter to her chest.

  “Got big plans for the day?”

  “I think if I don’t spend some time at the office, Tandy might come push me out of this bed herself.”

  “Ah, no rest for the weary.”

  “You know, I’ve never understood that saying. No rest for the weary? What does that mean?”

  “It means those who do the work rarely rest because there’s always more work to do.”

  “Those who do the work are dummies then.”

  His chuckle rumbled low and deep. “Perhaps so.”

  “So what do you have on tap for the day?”

  “Got to run up to Leiper’s Fork. We’re looking at a site up there, and I’ve got to meet with the owner, get the details.”

  “Oh, Leiper’s Fork is gorgeous! Wave to any celebrities you see.” She pictured the rolling hillside of the famed small town that so many country music stars called home.

  “Well, I was kind of hoping a certain beautiful sculptress could join me for the drive.”

  “Oh! I’d love to!” Miss Kitty jumped up onto the bed. She pawed at the comforter, circled around a couple of times, and settled in directly on top of Kendra, who chuckled and scratched the fluffy cat’s ears. Miss Kitty would never suffer for lack of attention.

  “I thought you needed to go get some work done at Sisters, Ink.”

  “That can wait.” Tandy wouldn’t like it. She’d get over it, though. Just like she somehow had gotten over the idea Kendra was seeing someone else. Hmm, come to think of it, Tandy hadn’t mentioned that subject since Kendra got home from the hospital. Odd. Kendra shoved the thought to the back of her mind.

  “You sure?”

  “Sure I’m sure. I do need to get some work done on Tandy’s painting, though.” That’d be the perfect excuse if Tandy asked why she hadn’t come into the office today. Couldn’t get mad if the wedding was the reason.

  “Okay, how about I pick you up in an hour or so?”

  “That’ll work.” She shoved Miss Kitty off the bed and stood by the bedside table. “In which case I need to get off this phone and get cracking.”

  “Paint, woman, paint. See you in an hour.”

  “See ya.” Kendra placed the phone in its cradle and twirled in a circle, ignoring the painful twinges in her leg, grateful for the change to today’s plans. The sun shone in her bedroom window, and Kendra didn’t fight the bubble of laughter working its way up her throat. Why worry about a man who didn’t call, who didn’t have the right to call in the first place? Who wore a gold band around his finger but didn’t let that band keep his heart in check?

  Much better to spend the morning with Darin. Sweet, honest, kind Darin with the gorgeous hands and tantalizing voice. And free heart.

  She walked down the hallway to the studio and went inside, squaring her shoulders to face the blank canvas whose stare had been eyeing her for weeks now. Picking up a paintbrush, she held it parallel to her eyes.

  “You and me, kid. We’re going to get some work done in the next half hour, and I don’t want to hear a thing out of you but art. You got that?”

  Yep, she’d lost her mind, She was talking to a paintbrush. But it was about time she took charge of something instead of letting men call all the shots.

  Letting Harrison call all the shots.

  Who did he think he was, making her wait around for a phone call whenever he could get free of his wife and other obligations? Who was she to let a man turn her into that? When exactly had she gotten to the point where that sounded all right? That wasn’t her. Hadn’t been for a long time.

  Squeezing red paint into her paint wheel, she dipped the paintbrush in and applied it to the canvas. Red. The color of passion. Intensity. Emotion.

  Feeling her heart at last open onto the canvas, Kendra painted with a frenzy, determined to capture this feeling and transfer it to the work before it disappeared again. The confusion, hesitation, second-guessing left her, and for these moments in time she felt blissfully free of life’s entanglements.

  Her brushes took on a life of their own, interchanging in her hands—she always painted with both—and transforming the whiteness into a scene of utter escape and safety. Minutes flew by and still she painted. Hours with Darin flitted into her mind.

  Darin looking at her and laughing.

  Darin opening the door for her.

  Darin dancing with her at Heartland.

  Darin playing the bass.

  Darin twirling a straw at Clay’s Diner.

  Darin laughing at bridesmaid dresses.

  Darin wrapping her leg.

  Darin helping her walk.

  Darin.

  Just Darin.

  The paintbrush stilled in midair, and she took in the work before her. It was otherworldly and amazing, and she couldn’t believe she’d painted it. Couldn’t believe all the pandemonium inside her became this whenever she just closed her eyes and thought of Darin.

  What would happen if she did this when Harrison filled her mind?

  She paused. The confidence blossoming in her demanded nothing short of daring, of seeing what would happen.

  She turned to another blank canvas on an easel in the corner. Might as well find out. Let the canvas tell her what her mind hadn’t been able to work out for these long months.

  Staring at the canvas, Kendra tried to focus on Harrison’s face. It remained frustratingly blurry, having dimmed in its vividness over these long days of silence. He hadn’t visited her in the hospital, despite her voice mails on his cell. He hadn’t left a message to find out how she was doing with rehab, if she was adjusting, if she needed anything.

  She tried to push away the anger and self-doubt, tried to remember the intimate conversations in his car, sitting on a hilltop overlooking the beauty of a crop ready to harvest.

  Her paintbrush began to move, and Kendra gave her hand the power to translate her thoughts.

  Shades of gray and lavender quickly filled the canvas, the strokes hesitant at first but growing with intensity the more she gave them control. Is this the color she saw as Harrison? This pale, wishy-washy, undefined color?

  Don’t analyze. Just paint.

  More minutes ticked by, and she was vaguely aware of needing to stop. Needing to take a shower, put her face on, prepare for Darin.

  Don’t think of Darin. Think of Harrison. And paint.

  Before her eyes a tranquil lake emerged. Far off, in a distance so great she could barely make it out, floated a small boat. Not a sailboat, that would be too dreamy, too romantic for these feelings. A dinghy. A washed out, gray dinghy that wouldn’t withstand many waves, if any. A woman, tiny as an ant, sat at one end. Her back was turned, but her shoulders gave away the lost feeling. A great depth of water, full of grays and lifeless blues, separated the woman from a shore not even within viewing.

  Kendra took in the scene and felt tears trickle down her cheeks. For all their intelligence, for all their witty banter, she had to admit no future could exist with Harrison. Nothing could come except this, a great expanse of nothingness with no safe shore in sight.

  She laid the paintbrush down, her arms exhausted and splattered in paint. Gingerly, she pulled this easel next to the first and glanced back and forth between the paintings.

  A knock at the door cleared the artistic cobwebs from her brain, and she threw a look at the clock on the back wall.

  How had an entire hour passed?

  “Coming!” She cast about for somewhere to put the Harrison painting. Darin was perceptive. He’d know something was up when he saw that. Anybody would know. But t
he paint glistened with too much moisture to shove into the closet.

  Nothing to do about it now. Stupid to have let herself paint it in the first place.

  She tossed the paintbrush among a scattered grouping of others, wiped her hands on a stained cloth, and left the room, shutting the door with resolution.

  The knock came again.

  “I’m coming! Just a second!” Walking down the hallway, trying not to limp, but very aware now of the past hour she’d spent standing, Kendra reached the door and gave a grateful sigh as she opened it.

  “Hey.”

  Darin gave a low whistle. “Well, this is a good look for you.”

  Kendra glanced down, belatedly realizing she still wore her robe and her hair must be as wild as Phyllis Diller’s.

  “Oh, shoot. I was painting, lost track of time. Come in, come in.” She stepped back and let him enter the apartment.

  “Must have been a good session. Can I see the results?”

  “It’s, um, not quite finished. Maybe in a day or two.” When I can hide the other one.

  “Come on, I promise not to judge.”

  “Nope, not happening.”

  “Chicken.”

  “Just call me Tyson-certified. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  She left him in the living room and went for the bathroom as fast as her hobbled leg could move.

  No time for a shower. She reached for a hair wrap and tried to push her dry spirals beneath the fabric, but it was a no-go. Her hair, always with a life of its own, was having none of this hiding idea as dry as it was these days.

  She threw the hair wrap on the counter, huffed her disapproval, and reached for the extra virgin olive oil. She coated the ends of her curls and pulled it all back in a low ponytail, then tied a colorful scarf over the whole thing. Not great, but good enough for now.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said as she entered the living room.

  “I take back everything I ever said about high-maintenance women who take forever in the bathroom.” Darin got up from the couch, pushing Miss Kitty off his lap.

  “Hey, I wasn’t in there longer than ten minutes.”

  “I know, and you look like one of those women who spends hours getting ready.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  He came to her and touched her face, the look in his eyes so tender and playful that she held her breath just to take it in more fully. “Definitely.”

  She struggled to remember what they were talking about. Oh, her looks. “Good. Ready to go?”

  “I was born ready.”

  They left the apartment and descended the stairs. As always, Darin opened the front door and she walked ahead of him to the ’Cuda.

  “So where in Leiper’s Fork are we going?”

  “I thought we’d run by the property I’m considering, then grab lunch at Puckett’s Grocery.”

  “Oh, I love that place. It’s like going to Mayberry.”

  “Yeah. Then if you don’t have anything to get to this afternoon, we could hit the art gallery and see if Uncle Lester’s doing a jig today.”

  “Is he still clogging at the drop of a hat?”

  “He’s what makes Leiper’s Fork so great.”

  “Him and all the rest of those people who take care of each other like we do in Stars Hill.”

  “Yeah, minus the celebrities.”

  “Hey, we may not have celebrities in Stars Hill, but we take care of our own.”

  “Says the woman who cringes every time she hears anybody in town talking about her.”

  “I don’t like to be discussed.”

  “And yet you value the fact that you live in a town where everybody is always talking about everybody else.”

  “There’s a difference in relaying information and events and judging everybody for how they acted at those events.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been dissected a time or two.”

  “I’ve had my share of being raked over the coals, yes. All the sisters have. Guess we had it coming.”

  Darin shot a look at her, then focused on the on-ramp to the highway. “Why would you have it coming?”

  Kendra’s laugh sounded more like a groan. “Ask anybody who’s lived in Stars Hill longer than two days.”

  “I could do that.” Darin nodded. “Or I could just go to the source, which I’m trying to do here. Tell me about your childhood, Kendra.”

  She bit her lip, earlier feelings of happiness at spending the day with him flying out the window. “Why focus on such a depressing topic?”

  “Because it’s not depressing; it helped make you who you are.” He reached across the console and took her hand. “A very strong woman with an amazing artistic eye. Come on, I want to hear the real version, not the Stars Hill one.”

  Kendra settled into her seat, enjoying the feel of his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Okay, the long and short of it is that I had a mother who didn’t want to be a mother but didn’t know what to do when she got pregnant, so she had me and tried to raise me. Trouble was, that didn’t fit in well with a revolving door of boyfriends who took one look at a scrawny, ugly kid in the corner and usually ran the other direction.”

  “I can’t imagine you ever being ugly or scrawny.”

  “I’d show you pictures, but I don’t have any. Trust me, this body is far removed from the one Jack and Marian Sinclair adopted.”

  “How long did you live with her?”

  “Eight years. It wasn’t all bad all the time, though. She had periods where it was just the two of us, and, for a couple of weeks, things would be good. Then she’d get a man, and things weren’t good anymore.”

  His hand tightened on hers. “Not good how?”

  “Different things. None worth mentioning.” She squirmed in her seat. If he knew all that had been done to her, he’d turn this car around and take her right back to her apartment. Because a man like Darin Spenser didn’t have to put up with a past like she carried. He could have any of those shiny, sunny women who paraded in the aisles at Grace Christian every Sunday on the prowl for a good man like Darin, Bible and notebook clasped in their pale hands and a yearning for a family in their hearts.

  “It’s a long drive. We’ve got the time. Tell me.”

  Kendra looked out the window at the trees whizzing by. “Like I said, a kid was the last thing these guys wanted to be bothered with when they thought they were hooking up for the night.”

  “Did any of them hurt you?” His soft voice pierced more easily than any knife.

  She let the question hang for a second, debating whether to share the truth. He deserved knowing what he was out with, she finally decided. No need in letting this go on further, hoping he wouldn’t find out the details of her past. “Sometimes. Not always.”

  Darin’s swift intake of breath drew her gaze to him. His jaw worked hard, and muscles stood out on his face. His thumb stayed gentle on her hand, though. What was he thinking?

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her head jerked back, and she frowned. “For what?”

  “That you were hurt.”

  “It wasn’t you that did the hurting. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I’m still sorry you had to live through that. I won’t ask you to share the details with me. But if you ever want to tell me, I’m here to listen.”

  Ever wanted to tell him? Shouldn’t his next move be to run as fast and far in the other direction as possible? No man wanted damaged goods. And no man wanted to be needed when he could be worshipped and adored. Sylvia’s lesson rang clear in her mind.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They drove in silence. Trees kept whizzing by, but Kendra wasn’t focused on them. Instead, she waited for the inevitable words of separation to come from Darin’s mouth. Were there any words that would undo the awful images that must be filling his head right now? Any possible way to undo the idiot thing she’d just done in sharing her childhood with him? She didn’t harbor the delusion that
Darin was a big enough man just to shrug off her childhood as if it hadn’t happened. And there was no reason for him to settle for the likes of her.

  Reality sucked.

  Darin cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I put a damper on our day.”

  “I think that was me.”

  “Nope, I pushed you into sharing.”

  “I acquiesced.”

  “True. And I appreciate that. More than you can know.”

  “Why did you want to know?”

  He glanced at her, then focused on the road. “Because I want to know everything there is to know about you, Kendra.”

  Kendra grimaced. “I’d advise against that.”

  “Why?”

  Why, indeed. Why hide herself from him? “I’m not sure, really. I guess I’m just so used to not sharing that it’s become a habit.”

  “One I intend to break, just so you know.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome. Kendra, have you been seeing someone else?”

  The suddenness of the question caught her off-guard, and her answer came out before she had a chance to stuff it down. “Yes.”

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob and hated herself for hurting him like this.

  “I see.”

  “I’m so sorry, Darin. You deserve better.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I deserve a whole lot worse, Kendra.”

  Before Kendra could puzzle out his meaning, he continued. “Are you still seeing him?”

  “No.”

  “How long has it been over?”

  “Since before the accident. Since the night before the accident.” Might as well get all the details out there while they were talking about it. No need to hedge around the truth now.

  “You saw him that night? You were with me until two in the morning.”

  “He waited at my place until I came home.”

  “Oh.”

  Tires hummed on the pavement, and she waited, her heart in her throat.

  “I told him that night that we couldn’t keep seeing each other. That it wasn’t right.”

  “How’d he take it?”

  “Not well. He left mad.”

  “Does he know about the accident?”

  “Yes. I called and left him a message. He hasn’t called back.”