Nathan shook his head. “No! Come back.” He picked up one of Val’s green decorative pillows and threw it at the screen. That didn’t help, of course. The cable had gone out. No, Val had a satellite dish.
He walked out on the tiny balcony without bothering to put on his coat. He craned his neck back to study the plastic semi-circle mounted on the roof. Nothing appeared to be blocking the receiver.
He returned inside to check the screen. Black.
He returned to the balcony and opened the storage area on the one side. Back behind Chip’s old tricycle, Nathan found a ladder. Using his left hand, which was now stronger than his right, he pulled the ladder out. He opened the wooden frame and checked it for stability. In the past, he would’ve marched up those steps, but today he paused. If he fell, no one was around to find him. He looked up and counted the rungs. Twelve steps. His heart pounded. “Just do it, you big baby!”
Gripping the sides, he put his right foot on the first slat. The ladder settled under his weight. His foot faltered.
He stepped away from the ladder. Back inside, he checked the TV one more time. Still no picture. For once, Bruce Willis wouldn’t save the day.
He returned to the balcony barely big enough for the open ladder. Forcing himself, he took one step. Deep breath. Another step. He kept looking up, growing closer to his goal. His hand clutching tighter to the wooden rails. Swallowing, he dared look down. Over the balcony railing, the ground looked distant and hard. The grass had long since died, snow melted, but no doubt the dirt was still solid. “Shit. Is it worth dying for TV?”
His racing heart said no. He glanced up. So close. If he didn’t do this, who would? Left foot, then right. A strong wind kicked up and slammed the storage shed door. His body started to shake. “This is stupid.”
He climbed back down, carefully, but quickly. Once on the concrete balcony, he dropped to his knees. Safe.
Homer scratched at the sliding glass door. Nathan abandoned the open ladder for the warmth of the duplex. Ignoring the puppy, he checked the TV again. Disappointment filled his head. He peered behind the television at the spaghetti-like wires. Then he saw it. One of the cords had been chewed through. His fingernails dug into his palms. He shot Homer a stern look. The puppy practically kowtowed, looking remorseful.
Nathan noticed the pillow tossed on the floor and the wet spot where the dog had peed. “This place sucks.” He kicked the pillow.
###
“Are you still mad?” a familiar male voice asked over the line.
Val hadn’t expected Nathan to call her at work to apologize, but it pleased her. Cleaning dog pee certainly wasn’t something she wanted to add to her morning routine. “I think ‘stressed’ is a better word.”
“Well, you won’t be in a minute. Because I bought us a house!”
“You what?” She stood up and squeezed the receiver in her hand. She pictured some ordinary, ranch house with shag carpeting. “Tell me you didn’t sign anything.”
“I made an offer. You’re going to love it.”
Val looked at her appointment schedule. She was booked up all afternoon. “I can’t believe you did that without talking to me.” She was starting to see a pattern. A very scary pattern.
“Don’t you trust me?”
Val shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “Nathan, you need to call up the real estate agent and tell them you made a mistake. See if you can get out of it.”
“No. I’ll come by and pick you up. We can go see our new home together.”
“I wish I could, but I’m very busy today.”
“Too busy for me?”
She took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to you later.” As soon as she hung up, she went in search of Joely. She needed to vent. But Joely wasn’t there and her office lights were out. Unfortunately, her boss, Kelly, was busy with a client.
Val fisted her hands. What had Nathan gotten them into?
###
By five o’clock, Val couldn’t wait to leave the office. She waved goodbye to Kelly and didn’t stay for their usual chitchat. She rushed out to the parking lot and was surprised to see Nathan standing next to her red Honda.
He tilted his head and gave her a pleading look. “Are you going to keep an open mind?”
She hoisted her purse strap a little higher on her shoulder. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve given me much of a choice.” She saw Chip and Homer in the grass on the far edge of the lot. Someone had wrapped a blue bandana she’d never seen before around the puppy’s neck. “Chip, can I get a hug?” She reached out her arms and bent her knees.
He reluctantly walked toward her carrying the dog. Chip let her embrace him, but he kept both of his arms around the puppy. “Nathan took me to the pet store today and you should see all of the stuff we got for Homer.”
She tried to hide her exasperation. “Let’s get the dog in the car.” She looked at Nathan. “I guess I’ll follow you.”
Nathan pulled the keys out of the front pocket of his jeans. “No. I want to see your reaction. Let’s all go together.”
She wondered if she’d be able to hide her disappointment. If he’d already signed papers, she didn’t know what she’d do. Now that they had a dog, they couldn’t stay at her place anymore, but that didn’t mean she’d wanted him to pick something without consulting her first.
Nathan untied the bandana from around Homer’s neck. Once it was loose, he faced her. “Come here.”
“What are you doing?”
He held out the cotton square. “I’m going to blindfold you.”
She laughed--his playfulness slowly luring her out of her funk. “This is silly. It doesn’t make sense to leave my car here.”
Chip scratched behind Homer’s ears. “Come on, Mom. You never do anything fun.”
The words of her youth echoed back to her. Her mom really hadn’t been any fun. Making Val clean the kitchen every night, read the Bible an hour each day, and go to church twice a week. But Val had sworn she’d be a different kind of mother. “Oh, alright.” She turned and allowed Nathan to secure the blindfold.
Just a slit of sunlight shined from below. Her arms reached in front of her, desperate to get her bearings. Nathan took her hand and guided her toward what must’ve been his Honda. The same model he’d convinced her to buy when her Hyundai wasn’t worth salvaging.
She heard the door squeak open and felt Nathan’s free hand on top of her head.
“Now sit,” he said.
She complied, slowly as she searched to feel the seat. She recognized her son’s laughter. “Yippee!” He clapped.
A few moments later their car moved down the road. They’d taken a right turn out of the parking lot and eventually another right turn. In her mind she tried to visualize a map, but she quickly lost track of their location. All she could do was listen to the talk radio station. Today’s topic included a new book about FDR, which apparently didn’t reflect the former President in an entirely favorable light. The interviewer commented, “FDR would never be elected today simply because he was crippled. The American people still hold a bias toward a man who is permanently impaired.”
Val shook her head. Unlike Nathan, she wasn’t endlessly fascinated with politics. She wished she were in her car listening to her INXS greatest hits CD. The back-and-forth debating and bickering of radio hosts did nothing to ease her tension. She pictured the depressing 1970s ranch they’d last seen with the avocado refrigerator and the goldenrod stove. Nathan had terrible taste when it came to houses. “Are we almost there?”
“Be patient,” Nathan’s baritone voice answered. Homer started barking from the backseat.
She imagined Chip playing with the dog, getting it all wound up. A dog. Now they couldn’t reschedule their honeymoon without getting a babysitter and making arrangements at a kennel. Her chest rose just before she let out a sigh.
Someone touched her knee. Presumably it was Nathan. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, that sigh must’ve been too loud. �
��Nothing.” First he gets a dog without talking to me and now he’s put down money on a house. Maybe they could get out of it, though, considering he clearly wasn’t himself. Dr. Chesney could write a note. “I don’t like not seeing where we’re going.”
“Well, no worries.” The car slowed and made a turn. “We’re here.”
“May I take off my blindfold now?” Her hands reached up.
“Wait,” Nathan said. They drove down what she assumed was the driveway. The car came to a stop and Nathan turned off the ignition. “Now.”
She pushed the blindfold up and off her head. The sunlight forced her to squint. She looked around and saw a two-car garage to her right and a two-story stucco house on her left. It didn’t look that great.
“What do you think?” Nathan asked. Chip echoed his question.
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
Nathan’s forehead creased into three wavy lines. “You don’t recognize it. This is the house. The one I thought you wanted.” He unfolded a paper from his back pocket and held it toward her. It was the flyer from the open house and she’d drawn little hearts all around the margins.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her chest filled with hope.
“I found this ad in your desk drawer and called the number.” He gestured toward the two-story stucco wall in front of them. “This is the back side, which I guess isn’t nearly as impressive as the front.”
Her eyes scanned the plain façade and looked upward to see one wrought-iron balcony similar to the ironwork that graced the front. “Oh my God! Seriously?” She jerked open the car door so she could see it better. She stood and stared for a moment, then glanced at the yard. Off to the right she could barely see the covered patio that jutted off of that twenty-five foot living room. She made her way closer. Watering hoses, two grills and rusted patio furniture cluttered the space. It looked familiar.
She ran down the driveway to the front of the house, just to make sure. Yes! Her majestic hacienda with its rounded windows and carved front door stared back at her. Behind her, the fountain splashed. She noticed Nathan, Chip and Homer coming toward her.
Nathan’s arms reached outward. “Well? What do you think of our new house?”
Her hands pushed against her heart, as if to calm its rapid beating. “I love it!” She ran to Nathan and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re the best!” He clutched her back, but did not pick her up and twirl her as he used to.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Unlocking the carved oak door to that 1920s Spanish hacienda opened a piece of Val’s heart. Excitement crackled inside her like fireworks.
The first thing she did was run upstairs, the puppy nipping at her heels. She had to see what the bedrooms looked like. All six of them. How indulgent. The giant master bedroom held an antique four-poster bed sans canopy. Between two closets, the floor rose a step to create a nook with a floor-to-ceiling window.
She stepped onto the landing’s worn, gray carpet to peer outside. Below her, a budding apple tree. Across from her, a view of her neighbor’s Tudor style home.
Nathan entered the room. “How do you like it?”
“The architecture of this house is so unique. I could put a couple of chairs here for a reading area. After we replace the carpet, of course. Or maybe we can rip it up and refinish the hardwood floors underneath.”
Downstairs she could hear Chip moving from room to room, opening and closing doors. “Cool,” his young voice exclaimed.
She wondered what treasure had caught her son’s eye. Unlike her, he usually preferred new things to old. New video games, new Matchbox cars, new friends.
Nathan came toward her, slightly limping. “Happy birthday, a little late or a little early depending on when it is.”
How could he not remember? “My birthday is February fourteenth. You bought me a box of chocolates and wrote ‘Happy Birthday’ on my Valentine’s card.”
At the time she’d explained that her whole life, her friends had skipped her birthday celebration in order to go out with their boyfriends. The least he could do was try to make her feel special. Not try to slide by with a two-for-one deal.
He’d been contrite, but insisted that it was ridiculous to buy two separate cards. “A card is just a five dollar piece of paper that you end up throwing away after a few days,” he’d said.
“Maybe if you wrote something personal on the inside, I’d save it.” She’d gone home alone that night, refusing to give him the one thing every man wanted for Valentine’s Day--or any other day for that matter. She’d expected him to try and make it up to her the next day with another gift, but no. He’d apologized and moved on. With the wedding fast approaching, she’d decided to let it go. Nathan was frugal and most of the time, she liked that about him.
Now she really forgave him. She twirled in a circle with her arms outstretched. “This is the best birthday gift ever!”
“Have you seen the other rooms?”
“Not all of them.”
He took her hand and led her into the hall. Almost every room had not only a fireplace, as the real estate agent had promised, but also a mini balcony. There were so many bedrooms, Chip could pick one to sleep in and one for a playroom. The one in back with faded striped wallpaper would be perfect for her drafting table. That still left two bedrooms unspoken for.
She opened up a closet and caught a whiff of mustiness. The walls puffed out in little air bubbles. “The place needs some TLC.”
Nathan grunted in agreement. “I can start fixing things around here until I’m ready to go back to work.” He grinned, apparently glad to have projects to do.
“I’ll be happy to help on the weekends. But I thought somebody else had made an offer on this place.” After all, she’d called the real estate agent the Monday after their wedding.
He shrugged. “They must’ve backed out for some reason.”
Homer, who had followed them from room to room, stuck his nose up in the air and froze. A moment later, he took off running down the hall at full speed, into the far bedroom and out of sight. Thunk! It sounded as if he’d run into the wall. Soon he came running toward them as if chasing an invisible cat. He practically tripped over his own paws until thunk! He bumped head-first into the wall.
Val looked at the bewildered puppy. “What are you doing, silly?”
Homer stood up and dashed down the hall again.
This time Val felt something brush against her arm. A touch that started off warm then turned frigid.
She jumped and looked over her shoulder to see who was there. No one.
# # #
Val didn’t know where to start. She got a dust cloth and wiped the living room from top to bottom--the fireplace mantel, windowsills, end tables and the antique piano that the previous owners had left. Too bad none of them knew how to play it.
She’d never polished and obsessed over her own place like this. Sure, she’d wiped away dust and re-arranged vases in groupings of three for clients, but the sweat on her brow especially satisfied her because this house belonged to her. For once, she got to live in the home others couldn’t help but admire. It would take some work to get it to that state, but she could easily see past the boxes stacked in the middle of the floor and the furniture that didn’t seem logical. They had two mismatched couches--hers striped in pinks and reds and Nathan’s in a boring brown.
She called to Nathan who was clanking the silverware as he unloaded boxes in the kitchen. “Let’s get cleaned up and go buy new seating for the living room.”
He carried his large grilling tongs into the room. “That sounds like fun.”
She clapped her hands together--thrilled that for once, he didn’t try to squash her spending spree. Up the stairs she bounded, to retrieve her shoes. She couldn’t help noticing a stain on the landing carpet. “Why would anyone cover up hardwood floors with wall-to-wall carpet?”
“What?” he shouted from downstairs.
“Nothing.” She spotted a fray near the basebo
ard. Without hesitation, she tugged on it. The carpet resisted. It needed to be cut. She searched through a couple of boxes in the back bedroom for an Exacto knife. Out the window she spotted Chip playing fetch with Homer. Her son finally had a backyard in which to play. She still wasn’t pleased about the dog, but he seemed to make Chip happy, so she’d learn to live with it.
Once she found the knife, she returned to the hall. The blade sliced through the fibers inch by inch down the hall. Then she tugged, surprised at how heavy carpet could be. Her hand wiped more sweat from her brow and she rolled up the stained, worn-out carpet against one wall. The foam padding was a bit easier to wrangle and toss off to the side.
Nodding, she smiled at the oak floor planks. She’d remove the carpet in the bedrooms later. Before long, this place would look like a museum.
Nathan came up the stairs. “What happened here?”
“I thought I’d rip up the carpet and see what was underneath. Isn’t it beautiful?”
He shook his head studying the faded, scratched wood. “Not exactly.”
“Well, you have to imagine it polished. Maybe after we buy furniture, we can rent a floor sander.” Even she could hear that she was talking too fast, tripping over her own words. But she couldn’t help it. She wanted to fix every room at once.
Nathan pinched her behind, twisting it between his thumb and finger. “Race you to the shower.”
“Ow!” She rubbed her sore skin. “That really hurt.”
“Don’t be such a baby.” He moved past her into the bathroom.
Already the smarting faded beneath her palm. Maybe she had overreacted. More than anything, it had surprised her. Nathan had never been the kind of man to slap or pinch her butt.
Within seconds, she heard the pipes groan as Nathan turned on the bathwater. She and Nathan kept forgetting that this old house didn’t have a shower, only a tub. Nathan’s arm appeared out the doorframe holding his briefs. He waved them like he was doing the world’s fastest strip tease.
On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3) Page 9