by Cathy Bryant
“Answering your own phone these days?” Claire Windsor’s cool words sliced through him like a blowtorch through butter.
Andy took a breath and released it slowly. “Hello, Claire.” He pictured her sitting behind an ornate mahogany desk, not one hair daring to step out of place. “May I help you?”
“That remains to be seen. I thought you’d want to know your friend cancelled her appearance in the exhibit next month.”
He sat up ramrod straight. Trish had backed out of the show? Why? He thought fast, his law training kicking into gear. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding. Please keep her on the schedule, and I’ll do what I can from this end.”
“You must really care about her.” Claire’s voice held an uncustomary softness.
“What do you mean?”
“For one thing, you’re answering your own phone in a back-roads Texas town when you had a thriving practice in Dallas. Then you took the time to drive here with one of her paintings. Now you’re going a step further when she clearly has no interest in her art career.”
“She’s had a rough road. I’m just trying to help. Besides, I truly believe she is interested in her art career.”
“The line she fed me was that she didn’t have time to paint. In case you haven’t heard, painting is required to be a painter.”
The words slapped him in the face. Trish told him she had several paintings ready to go. Had she lied?
“Are you still there?”
“I’ll check into this, Claire, but please keep her on the schedule. I know several people who have one of her painti—”
“Okay, whatever. But if you let me down on this little deal, it will be the last time. Understand?”
“Yeah.” He clenched his lips and hung up the phone. Trish would have her art exhibit one way or another. Now he just had to find a way to bring up the subject without her knowing he’d been the one to approach Claire in the first place.
Chapter 27
“For someone who doesn’t like people to be late, you’re sure doing a lot of it yourself here lately.” Trish blurted out the words in a huff, then turned away from Andy to gather the supplies to paint the office. They’d had no choice but to do the work themselves, since crews were in short supply in the aftermath of the tornado. Finding a time when both of them could be here had been almost impossible. Thank goodness Steve had invited Little Bo to go fishing with him for the day.
Andy sent an apologetic grin. “Sorry I’m late, but things are just hectic right now. Let me change clothes and we’ll get started. By the way, thanks for cleaning up the place. It looks better every time I see it.”
Through narrowed eyes, Trish watched him stride down the hall. Not once since the tornado had he asked about her art. Instead, he seemed restless and distracted. Whenever she questioned him about it, he deftly changed the subject.
She tightened her ponytail. He might have a lot on his plate right now, but so did she. The clock was ticking. School started in two short weeks. Trish nibbled the inside of her cheek. She had to finish this job as soon as possible so she’d have time to handle the details of the move to Austin—packing, locating a house and school, and most importantly, securing a job.
Andy’s cheery whistle sounded down the hallway, and with his usual loose-limbed gait he swaggered up to where she knelt beside the paint cans. “So speaking of painting, how’s it been going?”
She turned her head away. Now was a fine time for him to ask.
His cell phone jangled, and he removed it from the holster. “Sorry, Trish, I gotta take this.” He strode back down the hall and leaned against an unpainted wall.
Trish studied him. She couldn’t tell what he was saying, but his hushed voice and waving arms screamed agitation.
A few minutes later, Andy clicked his phone shut and shoved it back in the holster at his hip, striding toward her with a dark thundercloud on his face. “Sorry, but I gotta go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Without a further word of explanation, he strode out the door leaving her alone. Again.
Her frustration mounted, but she shoved it down. No sense in getting upset. The work had to be done, and it was her responsibility—the job he’d paid her to do. With a sigh, she popped open the lid on the bucket of slate gray and poured it in the tray, the room immediately flooded with the heady odor of fresh paint. She moved to the focal wall in Andy’s new office. First she cut in around the crown molding and baseboard, then readied two rollers in case Andy made it back.
She’d just layered her roller with paint when a voice she didn’t recognize called out from the front door. “Hello. Anyone here?”
“I’m in the back.”
A younger, stockier version of Andy lumbered into the room with the same loose-limbed gait and golden curls. He gave her a wide grin, his cheeks cherubic. “Wow, Andy, you’ve changed!”
Trish laughed and rose to her feet. She moved toward him with an outstretched hand, the paint roller in the other hand. “I’m Trish. You must be Andy’s brother.”
“Matt.” He eyed her paint roller. “Most women try to dye their hair to cover the gray. Not the other way around.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your roller is dripping gray paint in your hair.”
Her free hand jerked to her head and landed in something wet. Just great. She laid the roller on the edge of the tray and grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels. “Are you always so witty?”
“Andy was born with the looks, so I compensated for it with a sharp mind.”
Laughter erupted from her while she attempted to remove the paint from her hair with a paper towel.
He surveyed the room. “Nice space. Andy left you to do this all alone?”
Trish sobered. Alone seemed to be her new mode of operation. “Yeah, he took a phone call and then left.”
“Here, let me help. Maybe we can laugh our way through it.”
“Thanks.” She handed him the roller she’d intended for Andy. “Is your brother expecting you?”
“Nah, I’m not a control freak like he is. I just show up when I feel like it.”
“Ah, the free spirit type.”
Matt struck a thoughtful pose, his fingers stroking his chin. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” He resumed painting. “Doesn’t appear to do much good being any other way. Too much stress.”
“Pretty astute observation for a young guy like you. Oh, but I forgot, must be more of that sharp mind.”
He let out a hearty laugh.
They both grew quiet, and the only sound was the rollers against the wall. Trish searched for words to fill the void. Andy had mentioned something about Matt being in school at Austin. “You’re still in school at the University of Texas, right?”
“I’m growing to hate that word ‘still,’ but, yeah, to answer your question.”
“Sorry, I didn—”
He waved a hand. “Forget it. I was being sarcastic again.” His shoulders hiked up. “I like school. I see nothing wrong with being a perpetual student.”
Trish raised her eyebrows. Spoken like someone who wasn’t the one doling out the money. “If you can afford it.”
“Ouch. Now you sound like Andy. My first love is actually music, but it’s hard to make a go of that, so I’m also working on a counseling degree. That way I can help others and support my music career.”
“Smart move and one I totally understand. I love to paint, but I’m not sure it’s a good way to pay the bills.”
Matt peered over at her. “Cool. I take it you paint pictures, not just walls?”
Trish giggled. “I don’t mind walls, but I much prefer a canvas. Walls are my way to make ends meet, though that doesn’t seem to be working too well either.” She frowned. Why had she brought that up?
He loaded more paint on his roller. “So if you don’t mind my asking, do you work for my brother, or is there some special relationship between you two that he hasn’t clued me in on?”
Loaded question, and sh
e wasn’t about to go there. Kinda hard to have a relationship with one party missing in action. “I’m his designer. We had a tornado here a few weeks ago—”
“Tornado? Nice of him to keep me informed.”
So she wasn’t the only one being left out of the picture. “In his defense, he seems to be really distracted lately.”
He stopped painting, a troubled look in his eyes. “Could be something to do with Dad.” His heavy sigh deflated his shoulders.
“Your dad?” But Andy had said he was no longer in the picture. “Is something wrong?”
“Guess you could say that. We haven’t seen him much over the past few years and just learned he has alcohol-related dementia. If I know my brother, he’s killing himself trying to fix things.”
Heavy disappointment draped her heart. So that’s why Andy had been so busy. Mr. Fix-It to the rescue again, only this time it wasn’t her he had to rescue. And for some reason, he didn’t trust her enough to tell her the truth. The realization sliced through her. “Sounds like y’all had a rough childhood.”
Matt nodded, a sour expression on his face. “Our Mom left when I was just a baby. Andy’s been the grown-up in the family since he was seven years old.”
Now heartache replaced the disappointment, and tears swam in her eyes. She pictured a child-sized version of Andy crying for his mom while trying to care for his drunken dad and baby brother. Mama Beth’s words about Joseph rang in her mind. They certainly proved true in this case. Andy had endured an awful lot of hurt and suffering to become the man he was today. But why had he felt the need to hide it?
* * * * *
Later that day, Trish unloaded the last of the boxes she’d picked up from behind the grocery store, shut the trunk, and hurried inside to deposit them in the hallway. Hopefully, she’d have time to pack a few things later tonight. She wandered back to the kitchen and grabbed a banana to replace the lunch she missed while painting Andy’s office. He’d finally returned just as she and Matt had finished painting, and she’d made her exit to allow them time together.
After one bite of the banana, a car pulled up outside, followed by two door slams. She moved to the garage door and opened it to see Steve and one very happy little boy making their way up the driveway.
“Look what I caught, Mom!” Bo held up a stringer with four large-mouthed bass.
Ugh. Smelly fish to clean. Trish resisted the urge to pinch her nostrils shut. “That’s my little man, bringing home supper. Go put them in the sink and I’ll clean them while you clean you.”
His face fell. “Aw, Mom, why do I have to take a bath?”
Trish laughed. “Number one, because you smell like fish and dirty little boy. Number two, because I said so.”
“You always say that.”
She patted his cheek, one of the few areas not covered with grime. “That’s ‘cause I’m your mom, and that’s what moms always say.”
As he scooted into the house, she faced her brother with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Steve. You made his day and mine. This allowed me to get some things crossed off my to-do list.”
“My pleasure.” Steve tipped his hat. “He’s a great kid, Sis. Sorry I haven’t been around much. I’ll try to do better.”
Trish felt her smile fade. “That’s kind of you, but we’re fine.” She considered telling him about the more-than-likely move, but changed her mind, pretty certain he wouldn’t take the news well. “Come in and I’ll fix you something to drink.”
“I can’t. I gotta get on back to the house. Dani’s been by herself all day.”
Jealousy crested in her chest. How she missed having Doc come home to her at the end of a long day. “I understand. Give her my love, and thanks again.” As he sauntered away, his boots scuffing against the concrete, she shut the door and leaned against it briefly before moving to the kitchen to deal with the fish.
“Mo-om!” Bo hollered down the hallway then appeared, wrapped in a towel, and his hair tousled and wet.
“You weren’t in there long. Are you sure you got clean?”
“Yep, I even washed behind my ears. See?” He pushed an ear forward as evidence.
A smile tugged at her lips. “Very good. Now what did you want?”
“Oh yeah, why are all those boxes in the hall? I thought the tornado blowed them all away.”
Her muscles froze. The moment she’d dreaded. “These are new boxes I picked up today.” Trish laid down the fillet knife and knelt in front of him, placing her hands on his still-damp arms. “Honey, you remember when we took the trip to Austin to see Delaine?”
He nodded. “Yep, we had lots of fun at the water park and playing video games and eating pizza.”
She released a shaky breath and followed it with a smile. This was gonna be easier than she’d originally thought. “We sure did. How would you like it if we moved to Austin so we could go to that water park whenever we wan—”
Bo yanked away and bolted for his room, slamming the door behind him.
Trish followed and opened the door. He lay on his bed, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Her heart ached. What could she say to make him understand? “Oh, honey, it’s gonna be all right.” She perched on the bed next to him and rubbed his back.
“No, it’s not. Nothing will ever be all right again!” He jerked to a sitting position, tears streaking down his chubby cheeks. “I don’t wanna leave here.” His shoulders still shook, the result of hard crying, and he sniffed.
“I know, honey. I’ve tried really hard to keep us here, but there’s no work I can do in Miller’s Creek to give us enough money to live.”
“But here’s where Domino and Papaw and Mama Beth and Uncle Steve and Aunt Dani live.” More tears brimmed in his big brown eyes. “But I ‘specially don’t wanna leave Andy, ‘cause then we won’t have nobody and he won’t either.” He threw himself back on the bed, face to the pillow, and sobbed like his heart was broken.
Chapter 28
Andy forced his eyelids apart and sat up in the king-sized bed, uncertain where he was. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkened room and his brain started functioning, he remembered. His new place. He allowed himself a brief sense of accomplishment. Finally, he could put down roots in Miller’s Creek instead of living out of a suitcase in the cramped apartment above City Hall.
Truthfully though, he’d done very little except unpack and hang pictures. Trish had taken care of the rest while he’d handled his heavy caseload and looked in on his dad. He released a weary sigh and scratched his face, still bothered by the fact that she wouldn’t take the bonus money he’d offered. She’d given some lame excuse about all he’d done for her and Bo, then had waved and driven off, not giving him the chance to ask if she’d like to go out again sometime.
A subtle, but definite, chill hung between them, brought on most likely by his absence the past few weeks. The uneasy feeling had kept him praying until the early morning hours, and what little sleep he’d managed to get had been restless.
He untangled his legs from the maroon bed sheet and padded to the bathroom, impressed as always by Trish’s careful attention to detail. The floor, cool beneath his feet, was a tasteful combination of tan and taupe diagonally-laid tiles that flowed up the side walls of the shower. A beautiful space.
Just as he reached to turn on the tap, the phone rang. He retraced his steps.
“Hi, it’s Trish. Sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but I . . . um . . . have a favor to ask.”
“Okay.”
“I wouldn’t have called, but everyone else is busy.”
Hurt bubbled up inside. Was he supposed to be grateful that he was last on her list of people to call when she needed help? He clenched his jaw.
“I had an unexpected appointment pop up in Morganville this morning. Would you mind watching Bo for me?”
“Not a problem, but I have an afternoon meeting with a client. What time will you be finished?” Otis had called last night demanding to see him. Just what he needed—another battle with Oti
s.
“I should be back by two at the latest.”
“That’ll work. Would you mind dropping him by here dressed in something to go fishing in?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you had other plans.”
“I can still fish. It’ll be great to have Bo’s company.” Come to think of it, why couldn’t she take Bo with her? It wasn’t like he was any trouble. “I’ll even take him to my afternoon appointment if I need to. I’m sure he’d play quietly until the meeting was over.” His words held the intended accusation.
A tense silence now hung between them. “I could take him with me, too, but—”
“No need to explain.” He huffed a frustrated breath through his nostrils. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
Half an hour later, they arrived. “Andy!” Bo squealed out his greeting, then launched himself into Andy’s arms.
“Hey, kiddo. Missed you!” He gave him a squeeze.
“I missed you, too! When you gonna take me riding again?”
Andy glanced at Trish. She was dressed in a pink business suit, with her face made up, and her nails done. The look was topped off with an expensive-smelling perfume. He’d seen enough businesswomen in Dallas to know that something was up. She quickly looked away and pretended to search for something in her purse. “You’ll have to ask your mom.”
“When, Mom?”
Trish looked up nervously, a terse smile pasted in place. “We’ll talk about it later, sweetie. Mama has to go to her appointment right now.”
Bo’s face fell. “’kay.”
Poor kid. Andy lowered him to the floor tickling his ribs on the way down. “Ready to do some fishing?”
“Yep!” His smile returned.
“Where do I need to pick him up?” Trish spoke softly, and still refused to make eye contact.
“After we go fishing, we’ll grab a bite to eat and head out to your house, if that’s okay.”
She nodded and gave Bo a quick hug. “See you later. You have fun and mind Andy.” Her lips clamped together briefly before she turned and let herself out the door.