****
Nick waited for the familiar ache of loss to spread across his chest while Dana drove them toward I-77. So far so good. His pumper was pain free. No leaks, no regrets.
Then Dana gave him that little smile he’d loved. “How have you been, Nick?”
“I’m fine.” Mostly. “How about you?”
“Truth?”
“Of course.”
She held up her left hand, where a good-sized diamond sparkled.
His heart rate blipped. “Ah,” he said, nodding. “You’re happy.”
“Paul’s a financial planner.”
He nodded.
She glanced his way. “I told Mark you’re perfect for the job. We need a good health actuary. Why are you considering the position?”
Until her question, he’d welcomed the change of subject. Was she fishing for whether she was part of his decision?
Working with Dana was the only downside to Option A. Something as small as his heart blip, when she’d held up her rock, warned Option A bore dangerous temptations. Could he dispassionately work on client presentations with her and talk football with her husband at actuarial social functions?
He settled his sweaty palms on his thighs. “Three reasons. First, I’m ready for a challenge.” A notch on his challenge belt.
“You’re smiling. What’s so funny about a challenge?”
“Nothing. The second reason…let’s just say the second reason is I’m currently performing my job and a superior’s. I’d like to pare it down to one.”
“His, right?”
He nodded.
“I know what you’re not saying,” she said. “It’s your chief actuary, Joe Walker. I’ve met him at conferences a few times.” She rolled her eyes.
Joe was a genius and a nice guy. But his communication skills were the pits.
Nick’s days were interrupted with calls from people in other departments, outside companies, or government agencies. It was always, “I called Joe with a question, and I couldn’t figure out what he said to me. I gave up. I’m calling you because I still need an answer.” Nick was known as Joe’s translator inside and outside the company.
Nick took in Dana’s flawless complexion. “Yes, if I’m going to do the chief actuary’s job, I want the position.”
“And the title and the office, right?”
“Those are icing.” He looked at her slender fingers grasping the steering wheel. He missed holding her incredibly soft hands.
“Our open position is a couple of steps down from partner, but Mark’s approaching retirement will narrow the gap.”
“Yeah, but I’d be competing with you when he retires,” he said jokingly.
“That’s not a problem.” Her small smile formed. “I’d defer to you because, when I have my first child, I plan to take a long hiatus.”
Children. That blip again. Unlike Cisney, who planned no further than her next sticky note, Dana had planned out her life. A rationally planned, step-by-step life was good. Dana was so together. But maybe Cisney’s more fluid living was what made her seem fresh and alive.
Dana whisked her straight hair over her shoulder and it streamed down the back of her white dress. “You said there were three reasons. What’s the third?”
“I’d like to live closer to my family.”
She took her gaze off the road and angled her head toward him. “You seem to have forgiven me, but have they?” She returned her attention to the road.
“I think they have.”
Dad never held grudges. Forgiveness was part of Mom’s life in Christ, but his reconciliation with Dana ranked high on Mom’s worry list, which was the reason he’d keep his meeting with Dana to himself.
****
Cisney sat in the back of Allison’s sedan. Her curiosity surpassed her manners. “I accidentally overheard you earlier. Who’s Dana?”
Nancy and Allison exchanged glances.
“Nick and I are co-workers,” Cisney said. “Nothing more.”
Nancy turned in the passenger seat. “Mom and I were disappointed you and Nick aren’t engaged. You guys are good together.”
Cisney raised her eyebrows and shrugged. After her pearl ring had misled the women, taking a pass on commenting seemed best.
Nancy’s voice turned conspiratorial. “Dana is Nick’s ex.”
Cisney stiffened. Ex, like in ex-wife?
“Ex-girlfriend, that is,” Nancy said. “She’s from around here and is an actuary with a consulting firm in Charlotte. They met at Georgia State, and then became reacquainted at a Society of Actuaries conference. Nick drove home every weekend for two years until she broke up with him a few months ago.” Nancy frowned. “He took the break-up hard. When he didn’t answer his cell the day after she ditched him, I drove up and found him holed up for the weekend, unshaven and deep in delivery food, little of it eaten. You have to understand. Nick is Mr. Organized Neatness, when he isn’t mourning a loved one. Only recently has he been back to his old self.”
Cisney needed a brown bag. She’d hyperventilate any second. How many times in the last two days had she accused Nick of having no idea what being dumped felt like? Her mind raced, scanning her memory for all the snide judgments she’d voiced.
What an idiot. To assume actuaries were too antisocial to have normal crises—or to get hurt. Except for lacking in communication skills, Nick was like any other nice guy. A really good man. He’d cared enough about her pain to invite her to his home, save her from embarrassment when she looked like a cavewoman, and turn her to God’s point of view concerning Jason. He didn’t have to do any of that. And what had she offered him? To be another notch on her challenge belt?
Lord, how self-centered I’ve been. No wonder men found it impossible to love her.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked.
Allison threw a glance over the seat back. “You look a little pale.”
Cisney blinked. Nancy stared at her. Could she be selfless enough to avoid ruining Nancy’s and Allison’s Black Friday?
She flashed Nancy her I’m-just-peachy smile. “I’m fine. What does the mall have in the way of housewares?”
Housewares? That’s the best she could muster in a pinch? Daddy would be appalled.
Nick’s sister regarded her for another second, as if she didn’t buy her peachy smile. “There’re several big stores, with plenty of household goods.” The bird dog didn’t let up her scrutiny. “Are you sure my big brother hasn’t wooed you a little? Maybe you’re feeling a touch jealous he’s out with his old flame?”
“Nancy!” Allison punched Nancy’s arm. “That’s a bit frank.”
Nancy reluctantly drew her gaze from Cisney and turned her narrowed eyes to Allison, while rubbing her arm. “And that hurt! I’m fighting for my brother, here. You know she’s perfect for him, just like I do. I teach fourth graders, after all. I should know puppy love when I see it.”
Their shared laughter broke the tension. The camaraderie they seemed to be building would be a lot more enjoyable if the news of Nick’s breakup would stop nagging her conscience. How was she going to face him this afternoon? Right now, she needed to assure Nick’s groupies she was not dealing with the green-eyed monster.
“Your brother is a great guy,” she said, “but I assure you, I’m not the least bit jealous. I hope he and Dana are very happy together. Maybe they’ll invite me to their wedding.” Had she really said that? Invite her to their wedding? Maybe she could find the perfect wedding gift in housewares. Shut up, Cisney!
Nancy and Allison exchanged a look, and simultaneously blurted, “She’s jealous!”
9
Cisney bought two sets of Christmas tree placecard holders, a hostess gift for Ellie. The noisy miniature jingle bell ornaments decorating the tin trees would thwart Tony from stealthily rearranging card holders at Christmas.
Laden with shopping bags, the women headed for the nail shop. From the nail polish display shelves, Nancy chose Tomato Sizzle and Allison went with Met
allic Blue.
Cisney put Heavenly Pink back on the rack. It was too pale. Maybe Crimson Blast. She shook the bottle and held it up. No. It had a violet sheen to it. Ooh la la. She snatched Rose Smooch. The color matched her favorite lipstick. Perfect.
Her manicure done, Cisney rumpled her nose at the scent of her damp fingernail polish as she moved to the chairs reserved for pedicures. Keeping her eye on her wet nails and using her palms for support, she climbed into the chair between Nancy and Allison.
Nancy leaned back in her throne-like chair while the pedicurist removed old nail polish from her toenails. She rolled her head toward Cisney. “What do you like best and least about Nick?”
Cisney regarded Nancy for a moment. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“She’s very pushy.” Allison leaned forward and captured Nancy’s attention. “I think she should mind her own love life, and leave mine and Tony’s alone.”
So, Allison also suffered from LeCrone matchmakers.
Cisney blew on her fingernails. “I don’t mind answering Nancy’s question, if she tells us what she likes best and least about Nick, first.” What about Nick would bug his adoring sister?
“Ouch,” Nancy said. “OK, I’ll take on Cisney’s dare, if Allison tells us what she likes best and least about Tony.”
Allison shrugged. “No skin off my cuticles.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. She tapped her crimson nail against her chin. “I like best that Nick never told me to get lost when we were kids, as some older brothers do. And the thing I like the least is when he kept putting raisins in oatmeal cookies when he knows I dislike raisins.” Sweeping her hand in Allison’s direction, she passed the challenge to her best friend.
“Touching,” Allison said. “OK. Let’s see. Tony.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Every time Tony and I meet, it’s as if we pick up where we left off the last time we were together. So I like best that Tony is like my favorite casual shoes. We always walk well together.”
Nancy swallowed a sip of her herbal tea. “Or you tread on him.”
They laughed.
“And the least?”
“I’m afraid my favorite casual shoes will wear out before he makes a commitment.” Allison’s eyes misted and her lips crinkled.
Cisney’s heart went soft as mush. “He’ll come around.” She squeezed Allison’s arm. “Talk about two people made for each other. I’m envious.”
Protecting her freshly painted blue nails, Allison used the balls of her forefingers to wipe tears from under her eyes. “OK, you next,” she said to Cisney.
Nancy and Allison leaned toward Cisney.
“I don’t know Nick as well as both of you do, but what I like best is that he likes raisins in oatmeal cookies, because raisins rock!”
Allison and Nancy shooed their manicured hands at her.
“Boo!”
“Not acceptable!”
Cisney grinned. “OK, OK.”
The younger women leaned in again. They wouldn’t let her get away with anything less than juicy.
“What I like best about Nick is that he invited me to come home with him, giving me the privilege of enjoying his family…” She nodded toward Allison. “And his friend. He did that right after my boyfriend dumped me.” Uh-oh. Who’d injected her with truth serum?
Nancy and Allison snapped away from her as if they were blades of the same pair of scissors. They stared at her in disbelief.
Nancy’s body slumped. “Oh, Cisney, I’m so sorry.” She patted Cisney’s hand, their polish colors clashing.
Allison pressed Cisney’s other hand. “I never would have guessed.”
“Being here with you guys—your whole family—has helped keep my mind off the jerk.” She looked at each of her new friends. “Did I say ‘the jerk’ out loud? I meant Jason. Dear, jilting Jason.”
Nancy cut short her sympathetic demeanor. “Even though what you’ve shared is sad, you still have to reveal what you like least about my brother.”
Oh, which option would she choose? When he pronounced her marketing ideas actuarially unsound? His thinking spells—nearly an out of body experience? Or maybe his habit of grabbing her hand and dragging her wherever he wanted her to go? How about making her eat cranberry sauce? Yuk. Or…making her feel like skunk road kill when his “business” turned out to be a lunch date with his ex-girlfriend?
Nancy and Allison waited, gazes laser-like and sharp.
“All right. All right. What I like least about Nick is his woeful lack of communication skills.”
Nancy guffawed, receiving a glare from the startled pedicurist, who then removed smudged Tomato Sizzle polish from Nancy’s big toenail.
Nancy apologized to the woman and turned back to Cisney. “You nailed it.” She fluttered her painted nails and grinned. “No pun intended. Nick’s sadly missing the communication gene. Of course, he thinks he communicates just fine, citing how people from inside and outside the company ask him to explain actuarial stuff.”
Cisney raised her eyebrow. “Claiming to be the top communicator in the actuarial department is like a worm boasting how smart he is because fishermen dig him. Have you ever met Nick’s boss?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I think we’ve degenerated into gossip.” Cisney placed her hand over her heart. “Not a pretty picture for a woman who claims to be a Christian. Sorry.”
Nancy scrunched her shoulders sheepishly. “Me, too.”
“Guilty. Me, three,” Allison said.
Silence hung in the air.
****
Mid-afternoon, Allison dropped Cisney and Nancy at the LeCrones’. Nancy brought wrapping paper to the attic room for Cisney to wrap her gifts for Ellie and Nick.
Cisney deposited her gift-wrapped presents on the bed. “I hope your mom and Nick like what I chose for them.”
“They will.” Nancy pulled photo albums from the chest at the foot of the bed.
Cisney dragged the window armchairs together. “I love looking at family photos.”
Nancy opened an album across Cisney’s lap. “I haven’t looked through these albums since forever.”
Cisney smiled at Nancy and Nick as children. “Tell me who everyone is and the stories behind the photos.”
Nancy obliged.
They reached Nick’s college and Nancy’s high school years when a light knock sounded on the dwarfed door.
“Come in,” Cisney called.
Nick opened the door. He braced his arm against the jamb and stooped. He’d changed into jeans and a plaid shirt. “What are you two up to?”
“Showing pictures of you in diapers and zits,” Nancy said. “And, of course, telling Cisney embarrassing stories about you.” She rose, gathered the wrapping materials, and sailed toward Nick, clearing the ceiling by a full inch at the door. “I hear Mom calling me.” She ducked under his arm and descended the stairs.
“Do you see what I have to put up with because your charm has mesmerized my family?”
What’d he want her to do? Spit in their eyes? “Come here. I want to show you the two pictures I like best.”
“If I’m sitting on a potty chair, I’ll stay right here.”
“No.” She patted the seat of the other chair. “Come on over and sit.”
He lowered his head and joined her.
She planted an album in his lap and his laughter made her giggle. “They are cute, aren’t they?” She pointed to the picture of Nancy and Allison arm in arm when they were ten.
“I’m laughing because you have marked pages with sticky notes. Do you own stock in the company?”
“No. But stickies are the best invention ever, don’t you think?”
Nick wagged his head. He crossed his foot over his knee and repositioned the album. “So, which photos have you tagged to embarrass me?”
If she’d wanted to embarrass him, she would have pulled out her phone and snapped photos of him embracing Dana. She turned to the first yellow sticky and touched a pictu
re of Grandpa, Roger, eleven-year-old Nick, and six-year-old Tony sitting in that order on the LeCrone pier, their backs to the camera and the ends of their fishing poles sprouting from their heads.
“Those were the days,” he said. His reminiscing smile tugged at her heart.
Who was she falling for, the boy in the photo or the man he’d become? But falling, she was. Wouldn’t that please Daddy. She’d chalk it up to a weekend crush.
She tapped the photo. “When this picture was taken, had you already dreamed of being an actuary like your Dad and Grandpa?”
“I think at this time I was going through my stage where I wanted to raise Siberian huskies in Alaska and win the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.”
She chuckled and ran her fingers over the photo. “This should be enlarged and hung somewhere.”
“Which was the other one you liked?”
She flipped a few pages to the second yellow sticky. Approximately the same ages as in the first photo, Nick and Tony bent over a tangled fishing line, their heads almost touching in a close-up shot. Nick’s focus was on the knot, deep creases between his eyebrows, while Tony’s wide-eyed gaze was directed at a small lizard on Nick’s T-shirt, his forefinger poised to touch the reptile.
“I remember it took me an hour to untangle that mess, and then Tony snarled it again within minutes.”
“Did Tony touch the lizard before it bolted?”
“That, I don’t remember.”
He slipped tickets from his shirt pocket. “I have tickets for a local musical tonight.”
Of course, he’d see more of Dana. Cisney’s spirits wilted—no, bombed—but she quickly slapped her I’m-not-hurt smile on her face. “No problem. The Amish book I’m reading is very engaging. And Roger and Grandpa said there’d be a Chinese checkers game tonight.”
“What?”
“Like I said, I can entertain myself.”
“You don’t like musicals?”
“They’re my favorite.” She could belt out Oh-klahoma with the best of them.
“Then why won’t you go with me?”
“You’re asking me?”
Calculated Risk Page 11