Hearing how harsh her own words sounded, Joely stopped breathing. Her hand stroked Anna’s blond hair. “It’s different when you’re my age. I’m not still growing like you are.” Even so, the word “fat” from now on, would be banned from her vocabulary. “It’s important to eat healthy and take care of your body, sweetie. That’s what I’m trying to do. But you simply need some new clothes. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, either.” Anna’s lips turned downward, as if Joely’s self-hatred reflected on her.
She reached out and gave her daughter a bear hug. “Thank you, sweetie. I appreciate that.” If only it were true.
# # #
Val was desperate.
They’d cleaned the debris off the bed and placed a mop bucket under the leak. They’d been sleeping on the couches, but it was a hassle because all of their clothes were still in the master bedroom. It kind of felt like they were living out of a suitcase. The house was falling apart and she couldn’t count on her husband to fix it. Instead he’d bought an antique car they probably couldn’t afford.
She now sat on the edge of a leather couch twisting her wedding band. Joely had insinuated that Val wasn’t trying hard enough to make her marriage work. So, here she was.
The marriage therapist appeared to be in her twenties, not old enough to be giving anyone advice. Her name was Barbara. She was fair-skinned and blond. “Nathan, tell me what first attracted you to Val.”
He leaned back and crossed his ankle across his opposite knee. “First of all, I don’t know why we’re even here. And second of all, call me Nate.”
Val’s head turned to study him. “Since when do you prefer to be called Nate?”
Rolling his eyes, he released an annoyed sigh. “I want to be called Nate now. You don’t have to make a federal case out of everything.”
Barbara leaned forward, appearing to be interested in this exchange. “Okay, Nate. Tell me more about that. How Val makes everything a federal case.”
Val stiffened. “Wait a minute. I do not make everything into a federal case.”
Reaching out her palm to quiet Val, Barbara focused on Nathan. “Let’s hear what Nate has to say.”
Shifting in her seat, Val wished she’d put more effort into choosing a counselor. She’d asked Nathan to call Dr. Chesney for a referral, but of course, he hadn’t. In a huff, she’d flipped open the yellow pages and called the first name listed under “Marriage and Family.” Obviously that had been a mistake. Barbara was asking what made them fall in love in the first place as if they were a bored, old married couple. Val had no trouble remembering why they’d fallen in love. Her problem was those reasons no longer existed.
Nathan pulled a pack of gum out of his jean pocket, unwrapped a piece and stuck it in his mouth. “She comes home from work and starts in on me. ‘Did you call the repairman?’ ‘Did you fix the shelf in the breakfast nook?’ It’s like she’s my mother all of a sudden.”
Val shook her head. “That’s not true. Since he’s home all day while I’m at work, I figure he can make phone calls and run errands.”
“You’re going to be in trouble when I go back to work next week then. You won’t have anyone to boss around anymore.” His breath smelled cinnamon-y.
Barbara interjected. “How do you feel about returning to work, Nate?”
“Awesome. Can’t wait.” He chomped on his gum without closing his mouth. Even that was out of character for him.
The therapist cocked her head in Val’s direction. “How about you?”
“I’m happy for him. I think he’s miserable being stuck at home. Plus we could use the money.”
“You see?” Nathan swung his crossed leg down so his boot stomped the floor. “I bought her her dream house. And now all she can talk about is how poor we are.”
“I love the house,” Val said. “I’m glad you bought it. I’m starting to worry about finances is all.” She’d never thought she’d be the one to fret. Nathan was supposed to be the responsible one.
The room grew silent. Barbara took this opportunity to scribble something in her notes. “Let’s go back to the beginning. Val, tell me about when you fell in love with Nate.”
Val hesitated to tell the story again. She hated that she was the only one who remembered it. “My car broke down and no one would stop to help. Of course, I’d forgotten my cell phone at home. I had a terrible cold and the only reason I went out was to go to the pharmacy. Anyway, I sat there for thirty minutes, waiting for the rain to let up when finally someone stopped. It was Nathan.” She savored the moment. Her heart beat a little quicker. “He looked under the hood, declared the engine a disaster and called a tow truck. After a few minutes I recognized him from high school. He waited with me inside my car and we talked like we were old friends.”
She glanced at Nathan. Did the memory warm him the way it did her? His expression remained neutral. Apparently not.
She continued. “When the truck arrived, he insisted on paying for the tow, then offered to drive me home. Once we got there, he handed me a Rear Window DVD. Told me to curl up on the couch and enjoy. I couldn’t believe he liked Hitchcock, too.”
Nathan smiled to himself. “Rear Window. That one’s pretty good.”
Shaking her head, Val glanced at Nathan. All he remembered was the movie. Although he looked the same, he wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with at all. Where was her knight in shining armor?
Barbara wrote on her notepad. “An old acquaintance turned into something more.”
Val took a breath. “Here’s the thing. I’m not big into this counseling stuff.” Her mom had tried to make her talk to a counselor when she’d been a rebellious teen. “What I know is that my life is nonstop stress. My husband is injured, my son is failing the first grade, and our house is crumbling around us.”
Nathan sat up straighter. “Chip’s failing?”
Val nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. “If he doesn’t start trying, the teacher is going to hold him back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were at the meeting with Mrs. Bean. I asked you to start reading to him at night. But that was right before. . . .”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. So you need me to read to him and that will help him pass?”
“Read to him and see if you can get him to read. The problem is he won’t even try.”
A glance at Barbara revealed a compassionate expression on her face. As if this was the kind of embarrassing, personal stuff she was hoping for. Val dug her fingernails into her palm. She would not give this chick the satisfaction.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
While finishing up an oil change his fifth day back at work, Nathan overheard a man yelling at Rod. Irate customers were part of the car repair business, but Rod’s Garage tended to have fewer than other shops.
Nathan wiped his greasy hands on a rag and reached for the vacuum. He’d noticed Cheerios and crumbs all over the backseat of this minivan. Women cared more about the pristine seat cushions and smudge-free windows than about what he did under the hood. But he took just as good care there, too, using the right oil when they said they didn’t have a preference.
Rod’s Garage was short-handed this week with three guys out sick, so Nathan had been performing all sorts of jobs he didn’t usually do any more. The familiarity of it, though, brought him comfort.
In the middle of vacuuming, he heard someone call his name. He flicked off the power button and looked over at Rod. The dissatisfied customer was still there, his face red and twisted. “This is a bait and switch!”
Rod signaled for Nathan to come near.
Nathan approached the man who was about his height--a little less than six feet tall--with a bit of a paunch pushing out his white shirt and tie. Nathan checked to make sure his own hand was relatively clean before he offered it to the man. “Hi there. I’m Nate.”
The forty-ish man refused to shake. “
You! You’re the one who quoted me this price and now that the repairs are done, it’s twice the estimate. What kind of crap are you trying to pull?”
Rod raised his eyebrows in Nathan’s direction. “I told him we run an honest shop. That we respect our customers and want them to be satisfied.”
Nathan nodded. “Let me see the paperwork.” He took the lined form from the customer and recognized his own sloppy handwriting. Even worse than before the accident. He checked the numbers and the part prices seemed correct. He shook his head. “This looks right to me.”
The man shifted his weight. “Well, then that’s what I’m willing to pay.”
Glancing at Rod, Nathan could see his boss wasn’t pleased. Despite that, Rod cleared out the computer and re-rung the car repair to match the estimate, losing a few hundred dollars in the process. Rod scribbled something on the original bill and thanked the man for his business.
Still a little miffed, the customer nodded tersely and left.
“Finish up what you’re working on. Then I want to speak to you in my office,” Rod said. After a quick wrap-up on the van, Nathan walked into the adjoining building. Rod sat behind a desk piled with papers and family photos. He handed Nathan a copy of the bill. “Take another look at your estimate. Don’t you see what you forgot?”
Sweat formed in his armpits. Obviously, he’d made some sort of mistake. His eyes searched the page, desperate for his mind to work. “I don’t.”
Rod leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles on top of his desk. “You forgot to add in the labor. You only calculated the cost of parts.”
Nathan hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I can’t believe it.”
“Is it possible you’ve forgotten to add labor costs to every estimate you’ve given in the past week?”
Nathan shook his head. Surely not. That would cost Rod thousands. “I don’t think so.”
“I checked and you did.”
“Shit.”
Rod steepled his fingers. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I’m not sure you’re ready to come back to work yet.”
Nathan’s neck throbbed with blood. He was a failure. “No, Rod. I can do this. I’m sorry I messed up, but give me another chance.”
“What if you forget to put back a distributor cap or tighten the lug nuts on a tire?” His boss shook his head. “Take some more time. Go home, Nathan.”
He tried to stop his hands from trembling as he stood. Rod offered to shake. Nathan squeezed as tight as he could, hoping to convey strength, competence. He walked out without saying good-bye to the guys in the garage.
Driving away in his sports car, he knew one thing for sure. He did not want to go home. He headed toward downtown and let the wind pound in his ears. The thrill of driving his dream car helped only slightly to deaden the fear in his chest. The fear that he wasn’t good enough. If a man couldn’t work, he was worthless. What could he provide Val if not a steady paycheck?
Who knew how much time had passed before he found his way to his old hangout. He parked his car on the street so he could keep an eye on it through the front window. Even as he made the paces toward the door, he questioned whether he should go in. But he’d had a shitty day and he deserved this. He went in and took a seat at the bar.
“Nathan, my man. Haven’t seen you in a while.” Danny, the sixty-year-old owner with a gray crew cut, set a cocktail napkin down in front of Nathan. “The usual?”
Nathan shook his head. “Whatever’s on tap.” No need to hit the heavy stuff. He’d just mellow out a bit with a beer. He glanced to his right to check on his MG. He owned a red sports car. He’d married a beautiful woman. On the outside it must look like he had it all. His eyes settled on his own downtrodden reflection in the mirror behind the bar. As soon as Danny served him, he tossed back the glass without tasting its contents.
When he finished that mug, he ordered another. He studied the other customers in the room through the long mirror. In the booth behind him, a couple of businessmen joked and laughed a little too loudly. Probably in town for a convention of some sort at the nearby hotel. Worried that a co-worker might notice that they overindulged, they’d chosen this place rather than the hotel bar. Nathan understood, even though he’d never made it to their level of success. He knew about keeping secrets. Val had no idea how out-of-control he’d been after high school.
He sized up the other customers scattered throughout the room. Mostly men. The rest working class, like him. Although in the back corner, he saw the delicate wrist of a woman. He couldn’t quite make out her face, though. She was drinking alone.
Gulping the last of the foam, he raised his finger to request another. His head felt a little lighter, but he didn’t feel any better. Danny had tried to make chitchat, but Nathan had cut him off. He didn’t want to discuss how he’d stopped drinking and supposedly pulled himself together. Shame snaked its way around his gut.
He watched in the mirror as Danny went over to the woman in the corner, probably to see if she wanted another. Danny might be old, but he couldn’t help but fawn all over the pretty ladies. He’d retired from the marines and had spent many years bedding women. Married a few, too, if Nathan remembered correctly. Maybe three or four exes. Nathan shook his head. One was enough.
Lean forward, Nathan willed the woman in the corner. Let me see your face.
Sure enough, she did. Nathan nearly dropped his mug when he saw her. It was Mia, his physical therapist. No. It couldn’t be. He stared as she spoke with Danny, smiled a little. When Danny walked away, she seemed to catch Nathan watching her. He averted his eyes.
Danny mixed peach schnapps and orange juice in a glass nearby. Nathan forced himself not to watch as the bartender carried the drink to Mia’s table.
A moment later, Danny came back and leaned near Nathan’s face. “I can’t believe this. That pretty young thing said she knows you. She shot me down and then asked if I’d send you over.”
Nathan’s focus darted from Danny’s weathered face to Mia’s smiling reflection in the mirror. He stood and was surprised what a lightweight he’d become. A few beers and he felt a little tipsy. Forcing himself to stand straight, he made his way over to her table. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
She flitted her tiny hand at him in a wave. “Getting drunk. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you get your heart broken?”
He offered her a short, conciliatory chuckle. “I guess that’s kind of why I’m here, too.”
Nathan and Mia spent the rest of the day swapping stories, but he let Mia do most of the talking. She hadn’t shared much personal information during his sessions, he now realized. It turned out that she had a serious boyfriend and suspected he was about to propose. Imagine her surprise when she received a sentimental text message that he’d intended for his other girlfriend.
In his twenties, Nathan had played the “nice guy.” Women cried on his shoulder when their bad boy lovers treated them like shit. Women hugged him and said he was a good friend. And sometimes they crossed the line from friendship to something more.
Mia ordered another fruity drink and somehow managed to get blitzed off of it. When it was gone, she looked at him with those big, brown eyes. “Want to do something stupid?” A little smile tugged at one corner of her mouth.
He chugged the last of his beer. “Hell, yeah.”
# # #
Val strangled the telephone receiver in her hand. “My husband and I need to do some house repairs and we would like a home equity loan.” She’d nearly choked when she saw the written estimate for the roof shoved in the kitchen junk drawer. When she asked Nathan if he had enough money in savings, he said he’d put most of it down on the house.
“Is your mortgage with us?” An uptight, I-went-to-Harvard, male voice came over the line. She wondered if she’d been transferred out-of-state. There weren’t too many Ivy Leaguers who chose to live in the Midwest, after all.
“Yes. We just purchased it.”
“
What’s the account number?”
She tapped her pen against the desk. “I don’t know the account number.” She told him her address and finally, he managed to pull up her information.
He hummed while he looked over the numbers. “I’m afraid you don’t have enough equity in your house against which to borrow.”
“What?”
“Like you said, you recently purchased your home. You haven’t lived there long enough to have built up sufficient equity. I’m sorry.”
“My husband said he put a bunch of money down.”
“Well, the way we calculate it, you still don’t qualify.” His voice was devoid of emotion. This was just business as far as he was concerned.
“But our roof is leaking. What are we supposed to do?”
“See if you can work out a payment plan with the roofing company.”
“Seriously? Your ads say you care about your customers, but obviously you don’t.” She pushed the disconnect button, missing the days when you could slam down a phone. Forty-thousand dollars. Where else but a bank could you get that kind of money? An idea popped into her head, but she extinguished it just as quickly.
# # #
In his wildest dreams, Nathan hadn’t imagined that he and Mia would end up here. They’d stumbled out of the bar into the blinding sun. The dimly-lit bar had deceived him into thinking it was night. He’d pulled out his car keys, anxious to show off his recent purchase.
But Mia had insisted they were both too far gone to get behind the wheel. “Let’s just walk and see where we end up.”
They’d linked arms and helped each other down the cracked sidewalk. This alcohol-induced camaraderie warmed him with its familiarity. She giggled when he almost tripped on a ledge of uneven concrete and he loved it. Cars whizzed by them and before he knew it, she pulled him into a shop with a neon sign that said “Tattoos.”
This almost sobered him and he stood a little straighter. The place smelled sweet like pot. “You want to get a tattoo? Have you ever had one before?”
She faced him, still laughing. “Yes and no. How about you?”
On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3) Page 12