Sisters, Ink

by Rebeca Seitz

  “Clay’s.”

  “Hey, I need some info on Darin.”

  “Did Kendra change her mind?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. But we need to know where we’re going.”

  “You girls have something against surprises?”

  “Only when they render us incapable of dressing the part.”

  “Ah.” Understanding flooded his voice. “I see. How about the Bluebird?”

  “We’re driving to Nashville?”

  “It’s just a thought. We can stay around here if you want. There’s a fun jazz club now about half an hour from here.”

  “Hmmm, jazz.” She raised her eyebrows at Kendra, who nodded. “I think we like the idea of jazz.”

  “Okay. Their dinner menu is good, too. We’ll eat there and listen to some music, talk. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great. Oh, and what’d you tell Darin about Kendra?”

  “That she’s your sister, loves art, sculpts and paints, occasionally writes. The basics. Why?”

  “You told him she was my sister?”

  “Was I not supposed to?”

  “Did you tell him she was my adoptive sister?”

  “Why would I specify that?”

  “Because he might assume Kendra looks like me.”

  “He doesn’t know what you look like. And even if he did—oh, wait. You mean, did I tell him Kendra’s black, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t think he’d care.”

  “Clay! That matters to some people. What if he meets Kendra, takes one look at her, and walks the other way? Didn’t you think that might be awkward for her? For me?”

  “No, I thought that if he didn’t care about race when he got married, he probably doesn’t care about it too much now.”

  “His wife was black?”

  “Biracial, if you want to be technical. And I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in the twenty-first century.”

  “Me, either. Forget I brought it up.”

  “Already gone from the memory banks. Any other info you need before I see you in four hours?”

  “Just one thing.”

  “Says the cat to the mouse.”

  Tandy made a face at the phone. “How’d you get so smart?”

  “I dated this really hot chick in high school whose brain was better than mine. Made me sharpen my skills.”

  “Must have been some woman.”

  “Honey, you have no idea.”

  “See you tonight.” She hung up, her heart racing like the high school days. Sometimes, when she allowed herself to think of him, she couldn’t help but wonder if the pain of losing him had obliterated the flaw of him—the mundane characteristics that, if given enough time, would have driven her insane and ended their relationship anyway. She’d think hard, searching the recesses of her memory the way a miser seeks out a lost penny, but it was always in vain. Clay Kelner had his faults, but none of them would have driven them apart.

  Except his need to chase after military madness and her need to succeed in Orlando.

  She shook her head, the thought slinking away into the dark corners of her brain. “We’re doing jazz,” she called out to Kendra, going back to the scrapping table. “You need a slinky dress and heels.”

  Kendra held up a hand, “Say no more, I bought the perfect dress for that two weeks ago. It’s a red silk number with a halter top. Might as well have jazz stitched right across the front of it.”

  “That’s perfect!”

  Kendra looked over at Joy, who had been watching the exchange. “She says that like it’s a miracle I can put together an outfit.”

  Joy smiled. “Or like a woman excited to see her man.”

  “He’s not my man, Joy,” Tandy rushed to correct her.

  Meg joined in the conversation. “The town thinks otherwise.”

  “How can you know what the town is saying already? It was last night, and I saw you this morning.”

  “I stopped at the bank before I came over.” Meg flipped through a Simple Scrapbooks, pausing at a layout and turning down the page. “Sadie Jenkins sends you her love. She thinks you two looked—” Meg’s voice adopted that of an elderly woman, and she put her finger to her lips—“just divine, Meg, divine.”

  “Oh my word. Ms. Jenkins was at Heartland?”

  Meg lifted a shoulder. “And, in addition to her love, she wants you to know she approves.”

  “Oh, well then—” Tandy rolled her eyes—“somebody find me a marriage certificate because if Ms. Jenkins has issued her approval, then it’s all said and done.”

  “Tandy, don’t be ugly.” Joy echoed Momma’s oft-repeated phrase.

  “I’m not.” Tandy winced at her petulant tone. “Like I know you’re not defending the right of a woman who has been married four times and engaged seven to issue a decree on the rightness or wrongness of anyone’s relationship, much less mine with Clay Kelner.”

  “She was only being nice, Tandy,” Meg’s eyes were wide. “I don’t think she meant any harm by it.”

  Tandy sighed. “I know. I just hate being the topic of town conversation.” She pulled up on the end of a Clik-It and let it go, making an eyelet-sized hole in the paper on the table.

  “Why do you hate it so much?” Joy asked.

  “It doesn’t bother you?” She reached for a copper-colored eyelet and set it in place.

  “Not really. I don’t love being discussed, but I take my turn like everyone else.”

  “Why have a turn at all?” Tandy popped the Clik-It onto the eyelet, smashing it into place. “Why can’t folks just talk about their crops or church or something other than the people in this town?”

  “They only talk because they care.” Kendra held up a hand, stopping Tandy’s retort. “I don’t like it any more than you do, so don’t holler at me, but hear me out. If they didn’t give an owl’s hoot about you or me or Joy or Meg, then what we did wouldn’t be worthy of talking about. But they do care about us. They were the ones that stood outside Murphy’s for an hour in the rain, waiting to pay last respects to Momma. And if they want to spend a little time advising us, then I say we tell them thanks for the advice and for caring and quit throwing a tantrum every time they talk.”

  “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” She snagged a mini-hammer from the tool turnabout and smashed a wayward edge of the eyelet. The silence in the room made her look up. “What?”

  “This isn’t a tantrum?” Joy said. “You’re pounding on that eyelet hard enough for China to hear it.”

  Tandy dropped the hammer back in its slot. “Okay, maybe a mini-tantrum. But I could do a lot worse.”

  “Heaven forbid we should witness that,” Kendra said.

  Tandy harrumphed and went back to her layout.

  “Meg!” Daddy called up the stairs. “Do you want me to put in another video for Savannah?”

  “Be right there, Daddy!” Meg stood up and walked over to the stairs. “Y’all don’t cover anything important while I’m gone, okay?”

  “Of course.” Joy slid a completed page into a page protector.

  Sounds of tearing paper and cutters created a sense of beehive busyness.

  Tandy tried to focus on the work in front of her. She was making good progress, much more than she ever got done by herself in Orlando. But images of Clay—his smile, his hands, his long jean-clad legs—kept popping into her mind. Was he thinking of her this much? Probably not. He had the diner to worry about, which left little room for daydreaming. Not like scrapbooking, which allowed time for conversation and thinking and hashing out life’s problems and perils like a prospector shaking his gold pan for nuggets of truth.

  Her anticipation for the coming night grew. A jazz place. Even if Kendra and Darin didn’t hit it off, no one in their right mind could listen to jazz and not feel like snuggling up to someone. There’d be the sound of practiced hands sliding back and forth over a piano keyboard, playing the keys the same way love played with people’s hear
ts. Maybe there’d be a singer, her voice with that raspy tone just right for singing the blues and the energy of jazz. Tandy couldn’t help the goofy grin that crossed her face.

  “I put in Heroes of the Bible, so we’re good for an hour and a half,” Meg announced as she came back up the stairs.

  “Hannah sleeps for two hours?” Tandy asked.

  “That’s the best part of having an infant. They spend more time sleeping than anything else. I’m convinced it’s how God lulls us into having more.” Meg laughed and settled back in on her stool. “Now, where was I?”

  “Hey, Tandy, what are you wearing tonight?” Kendra snipped a piece of ribbon from the spool.

  “Hmm. I’m not sure. I didn’t pack with the thought I’d be dating once I got here.” Tandy sat up straighter, realizing now that she really didn’t have anything appropriate for a jazz club. “You know what? I don’t think I have a single thing to wear.”

  “Did I just hear a desperate cry for shopping?” Joy asked.

  “Unless Meg’s got something in her closet I could borrow.”

  Meg’s lips lifted in a crooked grin. “Motherhood isn’t really conducive to building a knock-’em-dead wardrobe, sis. I’ve got jeans, sweats, and three skirts I rotate for church. The good clothes are down in Savannah’s closet. She’s got more Hanna Anderssons than you can shake a stick at.”

  Joy’s eyebrows rose and her hopeful eyes, their blue shocking in their Asian setting, turned to Tandy. “So, shopping then?”

  Tandy’s shoulders fell. “I don’t have time to get to Nashville before tonight! And where am I going to find something in Stars Hill to wear to a jazz club?”

  “Have you not been in Sara Sykes’s shop since you got home?”

  “No, I keep wanting to get down there, though.”

  “She added a clothing section in the back. Gorgeous stuff.”

  “What time does she close on Saturday?”

  “Five, I think. I can run call her and make sure, but I’m pretty certain it’s still five.”

  Tandy glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got four hours to get down there and find something fabulous.”

  “You’re going right now?” Meg said.

  “Joy, you up for it?”

  “For shopping? You’ve been away too long if you have to ask me that.”

  Kendra snorted. “Yeah, that girl and shopping are like Nicole Richie and a camera. Can’t keep the two apart.”

  Joy rolled her eyes at Kendra and started putting her finished layouts into her scrapbook. “I’m at a stopping point anyway. We can go now, and if you don’t find something, you can go raid Kendra’s closet.”

  “Yeah, and we can just pull up the hemlines with clothes pins so you won’t look like you’re wearing a sheet or anything,” Kendra joked.

  “Very funny.” Tandy stood up and wiped her hands together. “Okay, let’s hit it.”

  * * *

  A FEW MINUTES later Tandy and Joy walked into Something from Sara.

  “Tandy Sinclair!” Sara came from behind the counter and walked toward her, arms outstretched. “I can’t believe you took this long to come in here!”

  Sara’s black hair was showing gray, and she’d pulled it back into her customary low ponytail.

  “Hey, Sara.” Tandy embraced the slender woman.

  “It’s been too long since I’ve seen your smiling face.”

  “I know.” Tandy pulled back and looked into Sara’s face, seeing the lines the past three years had etched there. “I get so busy in Orlando, I don’t realize how long it’s been until I come home.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back. How long are you here for?”

  “Just until the Iris Festival. I’ll probably go home on Sunday.”

  “That soon?”

  Tandy nodded. “It’s about as long as I can stay away.”

  “Yes, I heard you were taking the legal world by storm. About to make partner, is the story that’s floating around here.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Tandy stuffed her hands in her pockets. “But I’ve been fortunate at the firm.”

  “Well—” Sara clasped her hands at her waist—“to what do I owe the pleasure today?”

  “Tandy’s got a—”

  Tandy cut Joy off mid-sentence. “I need a dress, Sara.” No need adding grist to the rumor mill.

  “Special occasion?”

  “Yes,” Joy said.

  “No,” Tandy said at the same time.

  “I see.” Sara looked from one sister to the other, missing nothing. “All right, let’s go look through the racks.” She turned and walked toward the back of the store, directing the girls to the far corner where mannequins were dressed in silk dresses of all types. “Would something like this work?” She fingered the ruffled edge of a pale green dress. Its bodice was cinched tightly around the mannequin’s waist, then exploded into layers of pleated chiffon.

  “Hmm, a little too froufrou, I think.” Joy turned to her. “Tandy?”

  Tandy nodded. “Yeah. Maybe something, I don’t know, simpler?”

  Sara stepped over to another mannequin and held her hand up. “Better?” This one was a lavender sheath dress with short cap sleeves and a rounded neckline.

  “Too fitted. I like the looseness of that one—” Tandy pointed back to the green dress—“just not the frilliness of it. And maybe a darker color?”

  Sara held up a finger. “Ah, I’ve got the perfect thing. Be right back.” She turned and walked away, leaving Tandy and Joy to sift through the hangers of dresses.

  “Wow, she has an eye for clothes,” Tandy said.

  Joy nodded. “My closet is full of things she selected for me. You should see this place at prom time. It’s an absolute madhouse.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Here we go!” Sara returned from the back of the store. In her arms was a midnight-blue dress. Designed to fall to the knees, it had a wide strap that crossed the chest and went over one shoulder. The fitted bodice gave way to a flowing skirt that Tandy could almost feel swishing against her legs as she danced with Clay. Sara held the dress up by the hanger and turned it to reveal a back that was brazen in its design.

  The wide strap continued over the shoulder and spilled into the side fabric of the dress. It was mirrored by another, wider stretch of fabric that went across the back, connecting one side of the dress to the other. The cut-out ended in a V shape that allowed for the flow of the skirt.

  “That’s—” Joy started.

  “It’s just—” Tandy couldn’t finish her sentence, either. The dress didn’t reveal anything she’d have difficulty baring in public, but it was daring in its reveal of her back.

  “Try it on.” Sara grinned. “I’ve been waiting for someone with the right figure to show me what it looks like.”

  Tandy followed Sara to a dressing room and, after Sara had hung the dress for her, stepped inside. She quickly changed into the dress, then turned to the mirror.

  The front was conservative enough, its slash of midnight blue across her chest giving a wonderful bold contrast to the soft, flowing skirt. Tandy turned to see the back, and her breath caught. Every inch of fabric fell in the perfect spot. It was as if the dress was made for her.

  But that back. There’d be no mistaking her interest in Clay when he got a look at this dress. He’d know in a millisecond she’d dressed for him. Not because it was revealing of anything he shouldn’t see. No, she could wear this dress in front of Daddy with not an ounce of shame. But did she want to declare this openly how much she wanted Clay to see her as beautiful?

  “Tandy?” Joy called through the dressing room door. “Even I don’t take half an hour to change into a dress.”

  Tandy took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Wow, that color is amazing on you.” Joy’s wide eyes glowed. “Come out here and turn around.”

  Tandy bit her lip, hesitating.

  “What’s wrong?” Joy asked.


  Tandy shot a gaze to Sara, whose eyes were bright with anticipation. “Does it not fit right? We can take it in or let it out if we need to.”

  “Oh no,” Tandy rushed to assure her. “It’s not that.”

  “Then come out here!” Joy’s tiny hands urged Tandy from the dressing room.

  Tandy walked out into the viewing area, stepping up onto a slightly raised platform in front of three mirrors. She heard Joy gasp behind her.

  Sara clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew that dress would be gorgeous on you!”

  Tandy stared into the mirror, seeing the front, side, and back views all at once. Her thick red curls fell down nearly to the wide swath of fabric in back, its deep hue highlighting the stunning nature of her hair. The whole thing was as bold as if Laura Bush told Barbara Walters she wore red lace underwear to bed every night. Bolder, even.

  “You must wear that dress tonight.” Joy sounded more effusive than Tandy thought she could be. “He might die of a heart attack, but he’ll die a happy man. Just be certain you turn around first.”

  Wrinkles crossed her forehead as Tandy looked at Joy’s reflection in the mirror. “You don’t think it’s a little, um, audacious?”

  “Of course I do. It’s audacious and amazing and daring.”

  “Exactly.”

  Joy shook her head as if to clear it. “My daring Big City Sister has difficulties with this dress?”

  “You don’t think this should come with a sign that says, ‘Please notice me’?”

  “Sis, it does not need a sign.”

  Tandy tucked her hair back, looking again at the mirror. It’d be fun to shake Clay up a bit. Let him know she’d developed just a bit of confidence over the past ten years, no longer thought of herself as the skinny kid on the streets. But this much confidence?

  “I don’t know, Joy,” Tandy said. “If Clay sees this—”

  “He’ll know he’s the most blessed man on the planet.”

  “Or he’ll wonder why I’m dressing up like this, making this kind of effort.”

  “Why wouldn’t you make the effort to look nice for him?”

  Tandy noticed Sara had left the dressing room. “I would. But,” she lifted the skirt of the dress as if presenting evidence, “this goes way past nice. This jumps with both feet into the realm of working it.”