Nina shook her head yes.
“Okay, then bye for now and I’ll see you later.” Kathleen picked up her medical bag and padded to the door.
Thomas stood in front of the door holding a Styrofoam box. “Oh, hi, is Nina here?” He looked to the side of Kathleen for a peek inside Nina’s apartment.
“She sure is! You must be Thomas?” she asked.
“That would be me.” He gave her an inquisitive look.
“I’m Kathleen, Sherry and Nina’s friend from down the street.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re the one who stitched Nina up while I ran out for meds that night.”
“Yeah, I did. Well, I’m just leaving.”
“And I’m just gettin’ here with lunch from Cookie’s today. Gotta make sure our girl eats,” Thomas said in a friendly tone.
Kathleen’s lips moved into a warm smile. “That we do! Well, gotta run! Good to meet you.”
“Good to meet you, too…” Thomas turned to watch Kathleen walk down the hall to the elevator.
“Damn, why has it taken all this time for me to run into her?” he asked Nina when he got over to the windows.
“Who knows why things work the way they do? She’s a good friend. I’m really thankful to have her. You’ll see more of her. She had a client coming in a little while she had to get ready for.”
“What kind of client?”
“Massage. Sherry says she’s really good. I’m going to schedule one,” Nina said half to herself.
“Yeah, I might, too. You know, that left shoulder’s been buggin’ the heck out of me.” Thomas looked at Nina’s front door again.
“Kathleen’s magic touch might help,” Nina said. She grinned a secret grin, thinking of how Sherry hadn’t mentioned the psychic aspect of Kathleen to Thomas but ran Shasta straight over there for a reading! Maybe Sherry could do as Kathleen wanted and not broadcast the psychic abilities on a grand scale. She looked at the food Thomas put in front of her. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
“Doesn’t this look good? Cookie fixed it up special for ya. You need to eat,” Thomas encouraged.
“Are you coddling me?” Nina shot up at him, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.
Thomas lit up. “Hell, yes, I’m coddling!”
Nina took his big hand in her small one. “Thanks for everything you do for me. I couldn’t make it without you and Sherry. And I’m beginning to think Kathleen, too.”
“I can’t speak for Kathleen. I don’t know her. Yet. But you’re family to me and Sherry. You’ve pulled us both through some rough times, Nina. We got through those times, and you’re gonna get through this bitch. You will,” he said, the last words spoken in a deep whisper.
Nina squeezed his hand and took a bite of her meatloaf.
“How does it taste to you?”
“I can actually taste it. And I see Cookie put a way-too-big slice of her special lemon cake in here in a plastic bag.”
“Yep. She said she was pulling out all the stops today. She knows what flips your food switch.”
Nina ate half of everything in the box, which beat the single bites she’d been taking before today, the twelfth day of the recurring nightmare that seemed to narrate her life. But deep in her heart and mind she knew the time had come to be rid of Bill Simpson once and for all.
“I’m gonna go now that you’ve actually eaten something. Do you need anything else before I leave?”
“No, Thomas, I’m good. I think I might take a nap in a little while. I’m thinking about coming in to work tomorrow.”
“Really? Are you going to be up to it? I mean, we’d sure love to see you at the studio again, but only if you’re ready. And let me give you fair warning. There will be no coddling!” He shot her a playful grin.
“I think I’ve had enough of that for now.” Her smile still didn’t touch her eyes, but she knew she’d reached a point where she had to get up or give up. She didn’t have any intention of giving up. It wasn’t in her, and she hadn’t gotten this far in life by quitting.
“Here, I’ll put this in the fridge for you on my way out.” Thomas reached for the leftovers.
“I can actually handle putting up my own leftovers. I might even fix some coffee and eat this piece of cake.”
“Well, okay! Sounds good.” He bent his huge frame over and kissed Nina on the top of the head. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” he added as he walked out the door.
Nina wrapped the food up, except the lemon cake, and put it in the fridge then started her little one-cup machine brewing a cup of coffee to go with the cake.
The doorbell rang.
Now what?
She pulled the door open. “Yes?” she said in a sigh.
Theresa Brennon stood at her front door.
“Nina, may I come in?”
Chapter Eighteen
“Theresa? Mrs. Brennon? I—”
Theresa stood stock still, stoic, tender eyes sending a silent plea.
“Nina…”
“Please, come in!” Nina snapped to and welcomed Theresa into her home.
“Thank you.” She stepped through the door and took a quick look around the place, then back at Nina. “It’s pretty.”
“Oh, I, well, it’s home. Thanks. Um, would you like some coffee? I’m making some right now.”
“It does smell delicious.”
“Do you like hazelnut?”
“I do.”
“Oh, good. Please come sit down.” Nina led her to the chairs by the windows and offered Theresa the one Kathleen, then Thomas, had just vacated.
Theresa slipped her gray wool coat off her shoulders, revealing a deep-blue, well-fitted dress which very nearly matched her eyes, Judson’s eyes, thick lashed and ever so blue. After hanging the coat in the closet, Nina returned with two mugs of steaming coffee on a little tray. The large piece of lemon cake sat in the middle on a porcelain sandwich plate with two forks.
“Do you like lemon cake?”
Theresa’s face looked strained, fatigued, as though she hadn’t rested in a very long time. Like Nina.
“I do,” she answered as she took the mug of coffee Nina offered, “but I didn’t come to eat. Are you all right?” She focused on Nina’s chin. “What happened? How did you get that?”
“I–I’m getting better. I fell down and hit my chin. It’s no big deal. The stitches are out and bruising makes it look worse than it really is.”
“There were stitches? Did you have to go to the hospital?” Alarm shot through Theresa’s voice.
“No, no, please, don’t worry. A friend stitched my chin and knee up for me.”
“Your knee, too?”
“I’m fine, Theresa. I promise I’m healing up well. Please don’t worry about me…” Nina had to look away before Theresa saw the shame she felt flaming across her face.
“I know you’ve been having a hard time of it. But I want you to listen to me about something.”
“Theresa, I know I can’t ever make up for what he did to you and Judson and”—she had to pause for a moment, then continued, bobbing her head—“and Sammy. I’m the daughter of a murderer. Hard times are my lot, I guess.”
“Really? Do you really think that you should suffer because of how that man lived his life? That it’s your lot in life to suffer for what your stepfather did?”
Nina couldn’t answer, her throat choked by the fist of guilt and sorrow filling it. Instead she took a sip of coffee in an effort to push it down and looked deep into Theresa’s eyes. All the hope and positive thoughts she’d had after Kathleen’s talk drained away. Seeing Theresa took her back to that night when the far-flung effects produced by her past were brought to full light in the present.
“So, you’re saying my sons should suffer more loss because of Bill Simpson?”
“No!” The word flew out of Nina’s mouth without hesitation.
Theresa put her mug down on the little round table between the chairs.
“I don’t think they should, either. Judson’s torn up about this, about losing you on top of everything else. I mean completely torn up from top to bottom, inside and out. He’s already lost his daddy. Please don’t shut him out because you think you’re guilty of some imagined participation in Bill Simpson’s crime! Judson’s devastated. He ran out of the house like a crazy man that night, looking for you, screaming out your name all over the neighborhood. Then he got in his truck and searched frantically for hours, terrified that something had happened to you when you didn’t answer your phone. He even got the police involved.”
“What? H–he—”
“Yes, that’s right. He has a childhood friend on the Fort Worth police force who also combed the area for you. And now Judson’s far away, in New York as you know, trying to complete a project he’d committed to, practically in blood, or he would have thrown it out the window, something he would never have done before. I’m worried about him, Nina, terribly worried. He’s not in his right mind right now, and that’s not Judson.”
Tears flowed freely from the eyes of both women for a few moments. Nina offered Theresa the box of tissues hidden between her chair and the wall. Theresa took several.
“How will I ever face him? Or Sammy? How can I face you now? Knowing what my family has put y’all through?”
“It’s not a matter of facing Judson. It’s a matter of loving him. And Sammy? He talks about you every day, asks when you’re coming back to see him.”
“He does? He remembers me?”
“Nina, he has a brain injury, but he’s very capable of forming strong relationships and bonds, each of which is important to him. That night he saw that his brother loves you, that you are happy together.”
Nina couldn’t speak.
“I’m going to tell you one more thing, and I want you to listen well.”
Nina searched Theresa’s face, focusing on the strength shining in her eyes.
“Judson just found this out the other night. I hadn’t told him because…well, I don’t know why, I just didn’t. But that Sunday night, I realized the time had come. That night so long ago, before the boys and their dad left to get me a birthday present, Lane and I, Lane was Judson’s father’s name, Lane and I had decided the time had come to deliver some news to the boys. News that wasn’t going to be easy for them to hear.”
Nina’s own hearing became keener, her eyes sharper. She leaned forward in her chair.
“Lane had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. He had only a few months to live. They were going to be very bad months. We didn’t tell the boys earlier because he didn’t want them to live in fear of his death. He elected not to have chemo for that reason, too. He didn’t want them to have memories of him suffering and wasting away, not to mention the grief that would have put me through. Besides, the cancer was already too far gone for the chemo to have had any good effect. The cruel part is that he’d never smoked a cigarette in his life.”
Nina’s jaw dropped as she remembered Kathleen’s words. It could have been worse…
“Crazy, huh? Life’s not always fair, but you can’t throw your hands up and quit. You just can’t!” Theresa dabbed at her eyes as fresh tears traced her cheeks. A little sob escaped her throat.
“Theresa…I just, I’m…”
“You don’t have to say anything, just don’t throw away what you and my Judson have. Give me the privilege of seeing him happy, like his father and I were. You know, I really believe Lane was just too good to stay on this planet for very long. He was so pure of heart, so caring. He wanted only good things for people. I don’t recall him ever saying a bad word about anyone. He was outwardly beautiful, too. My boys remind me of him so much in so many ways…” She gazed out the window, catching sight of the little birds.
Nina stood and went to Theresa, kneeling in front of her and wrapping her arms around Theresa’s thin waist, resting her cheek on her chest and holding her close.
Theresa took her in her arms and smoothed Nina’s hair. “Oh…my sweet, sweet girl.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You did what?” Nina asked Sherry.
“I saw that he’d blown up your phone that night—there were forty-plus calls in a very short period of time—and you were bad off, Nina, so I trashed those and blocked his number.” Sherry’s eyes grew moist. “I told you he called to check on you,” Sherry finished sheepishly.
Nina looked down, then back up. “I know you were protecting me, Sher. I get it. I just wondered why, when I finally opened my email and found over sixty from Judson, there were no calls on my phone. Come here.” She held her arms out to her dearest friend. “It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Sherry let go a sob. Nina patted her back. Thomas joined in and wrapped his long arms around them.
“Wow, there’s a mighty good vibe goin’ on in here!” Kathleen said as she came into the studio reception area.
“Yeah, hey, there’s room for one more,” Thomas said and lifted his right arm.
* * * *
Judson arrived at DFW International Airport late Saturday afternoon, debating whether to go straight to Nina’s apartment, the studio, or his place. Theresa wisely advised that he should go home, eat the special dish she and Sammy had prepared and taken over, then shower and think. He’d wanted to argue but didn’t because his mother was most often right. He would see how he felt when he got closer to Deep Ellum.
Nina hadn’t responded to any of his emails, and he’d figured out his calls were blocked on her cell. Makeup had been a bitch these last two weeks due to the circles under his eyes and the gaunt look he projected.
Hell, he really didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t remember a time in his adult life that he hadn’t cared about making money, but he absolutely didn’t care about anything but Nina.
He parked in his spot in the garage of his building and dragged his luggage to the elevator like they held dead bodies. When he reached his floor, he slid the key in and pushed open the door to his place. Just being there made him feel better. He knew Nina was mere blocks away. Sherry had texted him just as he pulled into the garage that Nina had improved a great deal, that tomorrow, Sunday, would probably be a really good time to try to reach her. He would have to see about that.
The door opened into the dimming light of early dusk. Across the way he saw something filling an empty spot on the wall he hadn’t found any art for. He dropped his bags and went quickly to the spot.
“Oh, my God…”
The painting of Nina he loved, the one of her gazing out a large window with her beautiful back exposed, had been hung on the wall.
“Do you like it?” Nina’s voice came from behind him.
He spun to look at her as she came toward him, beauty in motion, dressed in the same robe that had been draped around her hips in the painting, her hair up. Her eyes twinkled, though shadowed with dark circles, as were his. And her face and frame had less volume, as did his. But she was here…
“I love it. I always have.” He stood still, letting her make the moves. She kept coming.
“Judson…”
Their embrace held for several minutes, Nina’s tears moistening his shirt.
“Look at me,” he told her and tried to pull away. She held all the tighter.
“Please, let me see your eyes, Nina.” She obliged.
He inspected her eyes, face, chin. “First, are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful now”—her happiness shined through the circles and the bruise on her chin—“just not very pretty at the moment. Bruises have never made a great fashion statement.”
“You’re very beautiful at the moment. How is the knee?” He tugged at the lower part of the robe, exposing the knee.
She stuck her leg through the slit to give him a clear view. “Better. The stitches will come out next week.”
He pulled her into him again. “Thank God you’re safe and sound.” The words came out on a sigh.
“Judson, I want t
o know how you are. With all this.”
He loosened his embrace and led her to the couch. “It was overwhelming shock at first. This is one of those things that just doesn’t happen.”
“Yes, my worst nightmare…”
“I know, and it almost took you from me, Nina. You almost let it. Promise me you’ll never let anything do that. Ever.”
“Never, Judson. I never will again. Will you please forgive me?” She gazed up into his face, wide-eyed, hopeful.
“There’s nothing to forgive, my Nina. We were both taken by complete surprise. I’m just thankful you realize none of is this is about us. We were innocents in all of this. We have a right to our happiness.”
“Oh, Judson we do, we do. And the unbound possibilities before us.”
“And the unbound possibilities,” he repeated, his voice heavy with love.
Their lips met once more to signify the binding together of two hearts celebrating their union, one love, their forever, created in Deep Ellum.
The sacred kiss deepened, and their passion rose to the heavens before God and Man.
The kiss ended, and Nina nibbled Judson’s ear, whispering, “I think we need a shower.”
He feathered her bruised chin with tender lips and asked, “A cold one?”
“A hot one.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Catherine Hatten grew up in a newspaper family where she learned the joy and importance of words very early. She has written throughout her life in different mediums: newspaper, broadcast PR, web, traditional book publishing, and now fiction and non-fiction electronic book publishing.
Romance has been her choice of genre for writing fiction. Historical, paranormal, and contemporary stories are what come to and out of her head. She also loves a good, white-knuckled mystery read and adores television’s Richard Castle! Many years ago in Dallas she met Mary Higgins Clark who told her she “had it” and not to ever give up. She didn’t.
Trailer Trash [Deep Ellum] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 13