On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3)

by Karen Lenfestey

  He shook his head. The image of a butterfly inked in pinks and purples near a jutting hip bone formed in his mind’s eye. “My wife has one, though.” He watched Mia’s face for a reaction. It went blank for a moment and then the happy-go-lucky smile returned. What did that mean?

  She walked closer to the wall to study samples that were posted there. “Then she’ll understand if you get one. Probably think it’s sexy. Now. . .what do I want?”

  Val might think it was cool if he got a tattoo. She might be pissed that he basically got fired, though. He pushed against his forehead. Too much negativity. He didn’t want to think about Val right now. He squinted at a photograph of a Porsche logo.

  Mia leaned over the tiny counter next to a cash register. Behind it, a man with tattoos around his eyes, down his neck and on both arms, looked at her without amusement. She started flipping through a portfolio of previous customers’ tattoos and Nathan looked over her shoulder. Flags, skulls, Chinese symbols, crosses, mermaids. Eventually, she pointed at two different images, claiming she couldn’t make up her mind. The circus freak said it would cost her double, if she couldn’t choose.

  She wobbled as she turned her attention toward Nathan. “Which one do you like?”

  “It matters where you’re going to put it.” Nathan raised his eyebrows twice, trying to be flirtatious. Somehow when he drank, he turned into a Casanova, a guy women wanted to sleep with, but nothing more. For a long while, he’d been satisfied with that. In fact, all of the guys at the shop had envied him and egged him on. When he’d actually made it to work, that was. Rod, a recovering alcoholic, had been more than patient with him. Not that Nathan was an alcoholic. He simply stopped cold turkey one day when he decided he needed to grow up.

  “Any suggestions?” She seemed to flirt right back.

  His mind went crazy, thinking about her exposed hip or butt or breast. He thought a woman’s hidden tattoo, visible only to her lover was the biggest turn-on. Instead of risking sounding like a pervert, he shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

  “Maybe you should go first. I’m afraid it might hurt.”

  The man behind the counter let out a short, guttural laugh. “If you want a manicure, you’re in the wrong place, lady.”

  This was Nathan’s chance to prove himself. Today he needed to feel like a man more than ever. “Alright. I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When her cell phone rang a little while later, Val didn’t want to pick it up. She was still angry at the bank. Angry at Nathan for not taking care of this for her. And even angry at herself. Why? Because she’d pushed for this house, never even asking about the building inspector’s report. She didn’t want to think about dollars and cents; she just wanted to live in that historical property. But a six-bedroom fixer-upper was apparently too much for them.

  She answered the phone that rested on her desk at work. “Hello?”

  “Mom?” Chip’s young, unsure voice came over the line. “No one’s home to let me in. The bus dropped me off and the door’s locked.”

  She rose to her feet. “Are you sure? Nathan should be there. Ring the doorbell.”

  “I did, Mom. A bunch of times. Please come home. It’s cold out here.”

  Clear as day, she could picture her seven-year-old son in his navy jacket, the wind whipping against his exposed ears, threatening to turn his sniffles into another ear infection. He’d had a million of them when he was a baby and now that he was older, he often had sinus infections. Either way, his illnesses dragged on for weeks, requiring an expensive trip to the pediatrician for antibiotics.

  She grabbed her purse and coat off of the back of her office chair. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Go onto the screened back porch and sit in the corner. That will help block the wind.”

  “Hurry, Mom. I’m scared.”

  She cursed Nathan under her breath. On her frantic drive home, she realized what had gone wrong. Nathan was back at work, so Chip was supposed to stay for after-school care. He must’ve forgotten.

  Fifteen minutes later, she sped into their driveway. Chip was sitting on the tile floor of the back porch, squeezing his knees into his chest. He shivered. She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his lean body. He was going to be tall and thin like his dad, she figured.

  “Come inside, Chipmunk. I’ll make you some hot cocoa.”

  # # #

  Nathan pulled his car into the driveway and tried to compose himself. What had started out as a miserable day had morphed into the most fun he’d had in a long time. So why did he feel bad? Just because he thought Mia was pretty? Well, he wasn’t blind. And he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  He pulled up his sleeve to see his scorpion tattoo. Pretty cool. The guys down at the shop would be impressed. Most of them had at least one tattoo. They liked to razz him about being a square. Darkness clouded his thoughts. He shoved away the image of the shop.

  Lowering his sleeve, he climbed out of the car and walked into the house. “Hi, honey. I’m home.” He smiled, thinking he sounded like somebody in a 1950s TV show.

  A few minutes later, Val came down the stairs with a sour expression. “The bank won’t give us a loan. It’s a good thing you’re back to work. How’s it going by the way?”

  “Not so. . .” He looked into her imploring blue eyes fringed with thick lashes. God, she was beautiful. He didn’t deserve her. “It’s okay. A little rough, trying to remember everything. But it’s coming back to me.”

  She sighed. “I’m glad.” She opened the refrigerator. “Any chance Rod would give you a loan?”

  He stumbled and caught himself on the countertop.

  She straightened her back and looked over her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  He nodded. Could she smell the alcohol on his breath? Just in case. . . “Had a beer after work with the guys to celebrate. That’s all.”

  She closed the fridge. “Oh.”

  No anger. No yelling. That’s what his ex would’ve done. He’d better leave the room before Val changed her mind. He mumbled something about checking his e-mail and headed for the hallway.

  Her voice echoed its way to him. “Don’t forget to ask Rod.”

  # # #

  First thing the next morning Val charged into Kelly’s office. Full steam ahead, as always. “Can I talk to you?”

  Kelly looked up from her desk which was scattered with furniture catalogs and sketch pads. “Sure.” Today she wore a suit the color of lime sherbet with a patterned silk scarf around her neck. Her boss, who almost always dressed in pastels, stood and gestured for Val to sit at her little round table.

  Outside the window, Val noticed fog obscured her view of the city. “I was wondering if you could loan me some money.”

  Kelly closed the office door. She sat next to Val and crossed her legs. “What for?”

  Maybe between her boss and Nathan’s boss, they’d get enough cash to stay afloat. Assuming Nathan wouldn’t buy any more antique cars. “Our house needs a new roof and the bank won’t give us a loan.”

  “You have those barrel roof tiles, don’t you?”

  Val nodded. “No one around here makes them.”

  Kelly fiddled with her hand-made beaded earrings. She made jewelry when it was her ex-husband’s weekend with their twelve-year-old son. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

  The air was sucked from her lungs. “What?”

  Kelly looked away and removed her scarf. She rubbed the back of her neck. “This economy is killing us. People aren’t spending money on extras and they see hiring an interior designer as a luxury.”

  Pushing her too-long bangs behind her ear, Val thought about the clients she’d lost while Nathan was in the hospital. No other new clients had come along since then, either. “I’m sorry to hear that. How serious is it?”

  Again Kelly hesitated. “If we don’t get some more business soon, I might have to declare bankruptcy.”

  Val gasped. “I had no idea it was that bad. What can I do?
”

  “We need more commercial clients. They provide a steadier source of revenue than residential work.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll call some of my former clients and see if they know anyone who needs to have work done.”

  Kelly’s lips pursed together. She didn’t look like she had faith in Val’s strategy. “I’d appreciate that.” She sighed and placed her hand on top of Val’s. “I’m afraid I just don’t have the money to help you and Nathan. I would if I could.”

  “I know you would.” Val rose and reached around to give Kelly a hug. “I’d better start making some calls.”

  # # #

  Joely walked into Anna’s room and interrupted the game. Jake’s fingers hovered over a rook as he turned toward her.

  Joely put her hands on her hips. “I hate to say this, but it’s Anna’s bed time.”

  “Mommy, I almost have Daddy in checkmate.” Anna’s big blue eyes shined up at her.

  “No, you don’t,” Jake said. He tousled her blond hair.

  Anna pulled away from Jake and giggled. “Can’t we play ‘til the end, Mommy?”

  “The end might not come until sunrise.” Joely shook her head. “Give your daddy a hug and get your pj’s on.”

  Jake reached his arms out and squeezed his little girl. This was one of those moments that would define their daughter’s life. A bedtime routine that included two doting parents.

  Sentiment flooded Joely. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop them. Above her was the entire solar system painted in glow-in-the-dark paints. It was one of her favorite works because she’d done it especially for Anna. After years of painting Winnie the Pooh and Neverland scenes in other people’s children’s rooms, Joely had created a one-of-a-kind space for her own child. Okay, these thoughts weren’t helping her regain her composure. She turned toward the door. “Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll tuck you in.”

  About twenty minutes later, Anna’s room went dark except for the stars and planets above her bed. Anna quietly sang “Somewhere over the Rainbow” to her stuffed animals. Jake and Joely curled up together on the living room couch, her head on his chest.

  Joely wrung her hands, trying to work up her nerve. “Jake?”

  He stroked her long, curly hair. “Yes.”

  “Remember how you said whenever you see a family in the park, you wish you were them?” It had been part of his proposal.

  He nodded, his chin gently bumping her crown.

  “I was wondering how many children you saw.”

  “What?”

  “How many children were in those families?”

  He paused, thinking. “Usually two. That’s kind of the American tradition, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so.” She swallowed. “Do you want another baby? A boy to carry on the Mahoney name?”

  “Sure. Deep down I think every man wants a son.” He touched her hair some more. “What about you?”

  “I always dreamed of a girl and a boy. But. . . .”

  “You have lupus.” Heavy silence settled around them. “Can you have more kids?”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “It’s possible. I would need to go off my meds, though. They aren’t good for a fetus.”

  “Is that what you did when you had Anna?”

  She nodded. Her eyes landed on a baby picture of Anna lying on her back on a yellow quilt. Beneath her tiny body, patchwork pieces formed little rays of sun.

  Joely could remember rocking Anna to sleep in the crook of her arm, she could remember bathing Anna’s soft belly in the bathroom sink, she could remember Anna’s smile the first time she’d tasted birthday cake. Babies gave life meaning. “I’d love for us to have another child.”

  He leaned down and kissed her head. “That’s great news. I wasn’t sure you could have any more.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t get his hopes up. After all, Anna’s birth had been a miracle. “I’ll have to check with my doctor.”

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat a few minutes later. “Things are still busy at work and I won’t be able to come over for a while. In fact I’m heading back to the office tonight.”

  Her teeth dug into her raw lip. He was pulling away. She was glad he couldn’t see her face. The tears had welled up again and this time she couldn’t stop them.

  # # #

  Frogs leaped inside Nathan’s gut. He ran his fingers through his hair, checking his reflection in the glass, before opening the door to the physical therapy clinic. He greeted the red haired receptionist and took a seat. His knee bounced in anticipation.

  He loved his wife, but he definitely looked forward to seeing Mia.

  After what felt like the longest wait, Nathan was called back. Alone in the small exam room, he cracked his knuckles. Energy charged his body. When Mia’s silhouette entered the doorway, he broke into a sly grin. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she said. She closed the door behind her. She usually only did that when she tied the exercise bands onto the handle.

  His leapfrogs went wild, hopping ecstatically.

  “How are you?” she asked. She seemed coy. Did she feel the electricity between them, too?

  “Good. How’s your tattoo? I mean. . . does it still hurt?”

  She shrugged. She pulled the neck of her blouse to the side, revealing the little heart inked below her collarbone. She’d taken his advice on where to place it.

  He couldn’t help but read something into that. “Have you shown it to anybody?”

  “No.” Her cheeks bloomed pink. “No one to show it to.”

  He seemed to remember her saying something about her boyfriend cheating on her. “Your boyfriend was an asshole. You’ll find someone better.” Someone like me. I’d like to kiss your tiny heart tattoo and unbutton your blouse and. . . .

  “Hey, let’s keep our little drunken party quiet, okay? You’re my patient and I could get in trouble for. . . .” For once, Mia was the one left searching for a word.

  He rushed in to help her. “No problem. It might look bad even though we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Her shoulders seemed to relax at this. “Yes.” She took a deep breath and slipped seamlessly into professional mode. “Lie on your side. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

  They made small talk throughout the visit, but his mind kept wandering. Did she feel it, too? Did she yearn to lock the door behind her and take advantage of him? God, he hoped so. That would be so hot.

  # # #

  Val read a few pages of the diary she’d found every night after dinner, searching for the secrets of the house. Wondering what the female spirit had to say. So far Val had learned that the original owner had been the president of a bank and had built this house as a wedding gift to his wife, Helen. She was from New Mexico and longed to return to its mild winters. In hopes of curing her homesickness, this house was built in the hacienda style she was used to.

  Val’s fingertips traced over the cursive words on the page. “It must break your heart to see your home neglected for so long.”

  The light turned off then back on. Val nodded. She heard Nathan and Chip talking downstairs about Ford Mustangs. It didn’t sound as if Chip were reading, though, like Nathan said they would be. More like two guys having a lively discussion about something they both enjoyed.

  The telephone rang. Since the boys were busy, she answered the upstairs extension. “Hello?”

  “This is Mrs. Bean, Chip’s teacher.” The woman’s voice rose at the end as if she were asking a question.

  “Yes, this is his mom.” Her heart sped up, even though she knew Chip was doing better in school. Teachers always made her nervous.

  “I’m afraid we need to have another conference.”

  Val leaned against the hallway. She didn’t have time to trot over to that school again. Tomorrow she had a meeting with a potential client and she couldn’t cancel. “Why? Isn’t Chip doing better?”

  “I thought so, but it turns out Chip has been
cheating. A student told me today that she saw Chip copying off of someone’s paper during the spelling test.”

  Val’s hand formed a fist and she pressed it against her forehead. “How do you know that student isn’t making this up?”

  Mrs. Bean cleared her throat, exerting her authority. “This student is very reliable. Besides, Chip’s classroom work other than the spelling tests hasn’t improved. He still won’t read aloud when called upon.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “I thought you could come in and we could discuss it.”

  “No, I don’t think so. Just punish him or whatever you normally do in a situation like this.” The threat of Chip failing the first grade pierced her mind. Instant headache. “My husband has been working with Chip every night on his reading.” Ever since the counseling session, she would come home to the two of them sitting in the living room reading Car and Driver magazines. Not exactly what Mrs. Bean hoped Chip would read, but who cared? It was great to hear Chip actually trying to sound out words. “He must be getting better. Maybe he’s too shy to read in front of the other students.”

  “That’s not how I see it. Chip is very outgoing most of the time. I’m afraid I will definitely recommend that he repeat the first grade.”

  Val chewed on her lower lip. “Mrs. Bean, I have to go.” She hung up the phone, wondering if she had been too rude. Should she have thanked the woman for calling her son a cheater? She shook her head and listened to Nathan telling Chip about the glory days of auto manufacturing in Detroit. The Paris of the Midwest.

  She stomped down the stairs. “Chip is supposed to be reading--not goofing around!”

  She hated the shrillness in her voice. She hated who she was becoming.

  # # #

  The sounds of terra cotta tiles tossed off the roof and shattering as they landed in the dumpster woke Nathan again. Ironically, Val claimed she took pleasure in the noises that came with her house’s improvements. To him, the racket pounded in his head ominously. He’d gone through his savings and maxed out most of their credit cards to pay for the tiles required to maintain the integrity of the house, as Val explained. But she assumed he’d been given a loan by Rod. And he wasn’t about to correct her.