by Delia Latham
A maelstrom of conflicting thoughts stormed through Kylie’s mind. Of course she’d like to help him. But could she do it? Her therapy sessions hadn’t even started yet. Could she handle working with photos of disfigurement? If she took this on and failed, it could be disastrous to their relationship. If she refused to help him, she would appear callous and unconcerned.
Last but not least, doing these projects would give her a reason to spend more time with him.
“I’ll do anything I can to help, of course. Tell me more about the ranch.”
Rick’s face lit with excitement. “Yes! I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to have you on the team.”
“Team?” She hadn’t realized his plans were already in motion.
“Yep.” His delighted grin soothed Kylie’s raw nerves, after the past half hour of grueling memories he’d shared. “I have a team. Just a skeleton of the crew I plan to bring in, but enough to get started.”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the living room. “Let’s go sit on the couch. I want to tell you about my day.” He plopped down onto the sofa and pulled her down beside him. “Hey, are you familiar with the actress, Shayla Matts-Hughes?” He paused, but apparently took Kylie’s horror-stricken silence as a denial. “She says her real name is Matthews, and she grew up right here in Castle Creek. I wondered for a minute or two if she was related to you, but I guess that’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? You would have told me about her by now.”
He may as well have tossed cold water in her face.
Kylie froze, unable to remove her horrified gaze from Rick’s questioning one. Did he know her sister, or was he just another of the horde of admiring fans who watched her on screen?
It had happened before. She didn’t have a long string of ex-boyfriends, mostly because every time she dared attempt a relationship, this happened. She never mentioned Shay, but somehow the men always found out about her. “Hey, someone told me Shayla Matts-Hughes is your sister. Is that true? That’s incredible. Do you think I could meet her?”
And once they did, their interest in Kylie somehow dwindled to nothing.
“Are you OK?” Rick’s hand on her shoulder forced her to break free of the strangle-hold of emotion his question caused.
“I—uh, I’m fine. Actually, Shay’s my sister.” She swallowed hard and forced her lips into a curve she hoped resembled a smile.
“No kidding?” Rick’s green eyes widened. “Why didn’t you mention that?”
She shrugged. “Just never got around to it, I guess.”
“You don’t favor her at all.”
“Yeah, I know. Shay’s the swan, and I’m the ugly duckling.”
“Kylie!” Rick frowned. “Why would you say a thing like that? Your sister is a beautiful woman, I’m not even going to try to deny that. But so are you, and I can’t believe you don’t know it.”
Her strangled laughter sounded forced. It was. “I wouldn’t go that far, and you don’t have to, either. I know I pale in comparison to my sister. I’ve been told my whole life, so I did figure that one out.”
“You’re shaking!” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. She felt the brief touch of his lips on top of her head. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
Kylie drew a deep breath, relishing the mingled aroma of some wonderful, spicy cologne and Rick’s own unique man-scent. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled a bit closer to his side, where she fit as if that’s where she was made to be.
“Don’t worry about it. My relationship with my sister is complicated. She is gorgeous. My mother, too. Both of them are the ultimate beauty queens—literally—and of course Shay took advantage of her good looks to make it big in Hollywood.” She giggled, surprised to find any humor in the situation. “I have to admit she was born with a flair for drama.”
Rick said nothing, just listened—and stroked her hair, sending little ripples of pleasure up and down her spine. Too bad she had to carry on this silly conversation. She’d love to just sit here and enjoy those delicious shivers.
But he was waiting. “They’ve both tried to make me over, again and again. I just don’t reconstruct well. I am who I am, I guess, and I learned long ago not to try to compete with my sister.” She despised the note of bitterness in her own voice.
“Why should you? Compete, I mean.” Rick gave her a one-armed hug, using his other hand to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. That done, he gently pulled her head against his chest. “You’re perfect just as you are. I’d hate to see you changed by any ridiculous makeover.”
“Really?” Stop that trembling, lips!
“Really. Your kind of beauty is deeper, more real.” His thumb found a trail from the corner of her eye to her lips.
Kylie knew Rick’s gentle caressing of her face was intended to be soothing. How wrong he was! Her entire body responded, vibrating like a guitar string in the hands of a master musician. She hoped he couldn’t feel her quivering from the inside out.
“Well…thanks.” It was all she could think to say.
“Any time, ma’am.” A soft chuckle, rumbling from deep within his torso, set off another shock wave of pleasant sensation. Kylie smiled against his chest. It would be so easy to get used to this.
They sat in comfortable, contented silence while the clock ticked the minutes away. Finally Rick pulled away enough to stretch and yawn. “I’m getting too comfortable. Are you still up to hearing about the ranch or should I come back another time?”
Let him leave? Now? No way. Kylie forced herself to sit up. She couldn’t resist running the back of her hand down his cheek. He looked too sexy for real life with that five o’clock shadow, and his dark hair slightly mussed. Drowsiness clouded his half-closed eyes.
“I want to hear more about the ranch, of course.” She stood, gently extricating her hand from his insistent hold. “I’ll put more coffee on.”
“Hurry back. I miss you already.”
Overcome with a sudden, inexplicable shyness, Kylie dropped her gaze. “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be back in a heartbeat.”
She felt his gaze following her as she crossed the room. In that moment, for perhaps the first time in her life, she felt beautiful. Desirable. And a little bit in love.
Yeah, she could get used to having this man around.
Kylie's Kiss
14
Dysmorphophobia.
Kylie tried the awkward and over-lengthy word out on her tongue a few times. She could pronounce it only with difficulty and a great deal of concentration. If it so easily defeated her linguistic skills, she supposed it made sense that the condition could overcome her mental abilities as well.
“What are you doing, Kylie?”
For a moment, she had forgotten Winona Wayne was in the room. What gymnastics had she achieved with her facial muscles while trying out that impossible word?
“Sorry. I was trying to pronounce dys— dysmob— that thing that’s wrong with me.” Despite—or possibly because of—her discomfort at talking to a psychiatrist about herself, she giggled, and brought a hand up to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wayne. I guess I’m a little nervous.”
The doctor laughed. With short, graying brown hair, enough extra pounds to pleasantly round her body, and warm brown eyes that sparkled when she smiled, Winona Wayne presented a friendly, comforting figure with whom to share one’s thoughts. Even those strange personality quirks most people didn’t want to tell a soul. “Call me Noni. And laugh if you feel like it, hon. I’m still a firm believer that it’s the best medicine.”
And to Kylie’s own surprise, she did. She laughed long and hard. Tears streamed down her face while a smiling Noni looked on. When her fit of humor eased up, the doctor pushed a box of tissue toward her. She yanked one out and mopped at her face, then grabbed another couple to blow her nose.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Nothing about this whole nightmare is funny.” She couldn’t seem to stem the
flow of tears, only now they weren’t caused by any kind of humor. A little sob caught in her throat, and she buried her face in her hands.
“No, it isn’t. My guess is that, right now, whether you realize it or not, you’re overwhelmed by relief.”
“Relief?” Kylie peeked out from behind her hands, amazed at the doctor’s ridiculous appraisal. Maybe she should find someone else to tell all her troubles to. This lady apparently didn’t have a clue. She dropped her hands and glared at the woman. “Something is seriously wrong with me! It’s completely unpronounceable and takes fifteen letters to spell. I am not relieved!”
Noni laughed. “You’re fine, Kylie. Nothing is wrong with you that we can’t fix. Yours is a relatively mild case of this particular phobia, and a bit of an oddity in that most people with dysmorphophobia focus all their fears and abhorrence inward, on themselves. You seem to have transferred that focus onto others—faces and bodies you can see without looking in a mirror.”
The doctor chuckled. “And yes, I think you’re relieved. Somewhere deep inside, you’ve needed someone to talk to about this for a long time.” She cocked her head, peered at Kylie through narrowed eyes, and sent her a saucy grin. “You’re relieved to have found me.”
Stunned, Kylie realized the doctor had summed her up in a nutshell. After only two brief sessions—one earlier in the week, and this one today—she felt almost physically lighter. This woman seemed more like a long-lost friend than a psychiatrist. Sharing her problem with another human being, without the worry of hurting someone’s feelings, or having them judge her, felt wonderful. Ashamed of her physical reaction to disfigurement, considering it no less shallow than her mother’s or Shay’s fixation with all things beautiful, she had kept the problem a secret, a shameful part of her that she refused to share with anyone. Not even Dayna knew.
She managed somehow to smile and sniffle at the same time. “You really want me to call you Noni?”
“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.”
“Well, Noni, I think you’re right. I am relieved! I didn’t realize how good it would be to share this with someone.” She dropped her soggy tissues in a trash receptacle beside her chair and smiled. “Thank you for listening.”
“That’s my job, dear, but you’re welcome. Now, do you want to hear how we’re going to fix you?”
“I’m all ears.”
****
Immersion therapy indeed.
Kylie’s front door was locked, her home phone unplugged and her cell turned off. Noni said to do this exercise in “an interruption-free environment.” She had also all but ordered Kylie to conduct the intense therapy in the office, with Noni nearby in case she became overwhelmed. The psychiatrist succumbed with great reluctance to Kylie’s desire to do it in the familiar environment of her own home, but gave vehement orders to have a friend or family member in the next room. Kylie ignored that last piece of advice, unwilling to share her phobia with anyone just yet.
She sat at the dining table. At her side, the kitchen garbage can stood ready to be used for, of all ridiculous things, a barf bin. On the table lay a folder, inside of which the doctor had placed numerous photos of faces marred by a variety of disfigurements. She hadn’t opened the front flap, had yet to see the first picture, and already she felt ill. Her breath came in short, painful gasps, causing a slight tingling in her face and hands. She lifted shaky fingers to rub her throbbing temples, only to find her face clammy with sweat.
“I don’t think I can do this.”
Kylie’s voice sounded tiny, even in her own ears. She desired nothing more than to rid herself of this mental block. But the thought of opening that folder and exposing herself to what was inside terrified and sickened her. Already, she tasted bile in the back of her throat. If only someone were here to help her through it.
“I am with you always.”
Her head jerked up in response to the near audible mental nudge. She recognized the words as scriptural, but it had been a long time since she’d picked up a Bible for any reason other than to remove a layer of dust from its pristine cover.
“You can do all things through Me. I will strengthen you.”
Kylie’s chair crashed to the floor when she jumped to her feet, staring wildly around the small living room and kitchen. No one here but her.
But no, that wasn’t true. A broken sob made its way from deep within her, rasping and tearing at her throat. Apparently Someone else lingered near, ready to be her friend.
While tears flowed down her face in an unchecked stream, Kylie righted the chair she had knocked backward and dropped to her knees beside it. “Father? Is that You? Are You really here to give me strength?”
A quiet peace washed over her as she opened her heart to the God she had all but forgotten. Her little apartment became a holy place, and the cheap, red-painted chair an altar. For some time, she remained on her knees, pouring out her heart, emptying it to make room for Him.
After a while, she rose, wiped her eyes and sat back down at the table. “OK, we’ll do this together,” she whispered.
Still scared, still trembling, but feeling stronger than she had in a long time, Kylie opened the folder.
Kylie's Kiss
15
She stopped the vehicle in front of her parents’ house and turned off the ignition.
Last night’s solo therapy session had left her emotions drained and her body exhausted. She’d thrown up twice, early in the ordeal. But she made her way through twenty-five photos without passing out. Not that fainting had ever been a reaction in the past, but then she’d never been exposed to so many facial flaws all at once.
Through the entire hour she spent looking at those pictures, the overwhelming sense of a holy Presence never left her. While tears chased one another down her face, she sensed loving arms around her shoulders. When nausea overcame her and she made a dive for the trash bin, she felt a hand in hers. Noni Wayne called these lone ventures into dreaded territory “solo sessions.” But after spending that brief time on her knees, Kylie hadn’t felt alone for one moment.
Still, holy companionship or not, the experience left her spent. Falling into bed after standing under a hot shower for a good fifteen minutes, she had a moment of immense dread. After what she had just put herself through, the night promised to be an odyssey of horrible dreams. She breathed a desperate plea for peaceful sleep, tagged on a fervent prayer of thanks, and woke up with bright fingers of sunshine stroking her face.
No nightmares! Amazed and grateful, Kylie swung her legs off the bed and moaned in pain. The agony ripping through her muscles and joints couldn’t have been any worse if she’d run a marathon. She limped her way to the shower yet again, hoping the hot water would perform some kind of therapeutic miracle on her aching body.
She almost called the office to ask for the day off, but refused to succumb to the aftereffects of immersion. Last night’s experience had been only the beginning, and she couldn’t call in sick after every session.
Luckily, her boss was out all day, and Kylie had little of real importance to handle. Her mother’s phone call just before noon to announce “a little dinner in honor of your sister” was the hardest part of her day. She reluctantly agreed to be there at six, hung up the phone, and groaned.
And now here she sat, putting off the inevitable. Hauling her achy bones out of the car, she pushed the lock button on her remote and eyed her parents’ front door while she smoothed a crease in her blazer—pink again, Mom would love that. She brushed imaginary flecks off her gray slacks, took a deep breath and two determined steps toward the house before skidding to a halt. She spun around and bent to check her lipstick in the side view mirror. Couldn’t have Shay and Mom seeing her with patchy lip color.
Back on the sidewalk and headed to the door, a half-grin pulled at her lips, despite the clenching of her tummy. Facing her mother and sister in tandem tied her nerves in tighter knots than seeing Rick ever did. Wasn’t that a little strange?
&nbs
p; Remembering the look in his green eyes and the way it felt to nestle close to his side, tension eased from her body and soul. Amazing. Rick Dale—good for what ails you.
She reached for the doorbell, but the door swung open before her hand ever made contact.
“Ky!” Her sister’s girlish squeal startled and shocked her. “I’m glad you came!” Shay pulled her inside and into a tight embrace.
Much to her own surprise, she returned the hug with near equal enthusiasm. It didn’t feel so wrong today. Had she landed in some weird other dimension? She smiled a little at the thought. Maybe she and Rick should try a Twilight Zone marathon next time.
Shay linked her arm through Kylie’s. “I love to see you smile, Ky. You’re so pretty.”
She turned wide eyes on her sister, attempting to make her next words sound playful, when in all truth, she was starting to have genuine concerns. “I know I already asked this, but…who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
Shay stopped and raised her famous blue-green gaze to Kylie’s. “I’ve never told you I think you’re beautiful, have I?” She nibbled daintily at her bottom lip, and a fine line appeared between her brows. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. We have to talk about—”
“Auntie Ky! Auntie Ky!”
A small bundle of pure energy bounced out of the hallway and slammed full force against Kylie’s legs. She slapped a hand against the wall for support on one side, extracted her arm from Shay’s on the other and wrapped it around Eva Kate, who offered an impish grin.
“Hey, Katykins! What are you doing here?” Kylie bent to plant a kiss on the child’s cheek.
“We’re all here.” Dayna appeared behind her daughter and gave Kylie a quick hug. “Elle’s turning Shay’s homecoming into a major event.”
“Of course she is.” Mother would always be partial to the more beautiful of her two daughters. Kylie discovered that the new reminder didn’t hurt as much as it might have a few days ago. A little smile played at one corner of her lips as she glanced at Shay. “Homecoming? Surely that doesn’t mean what it sounds like?”