Nickels

by Karen Baney

He stood and wheeled the chair back to the empty cube before heading back down the hall. Niki stood and peered around the cube. His back was to her. He stopped a few cubes down, bracing his arm against the cube wall. She heard him exhale loudly.

  Her heart softened at the sight. He was obviously not well and in a lot of pain. Judging from his suggestions about the spec, he approached this job with a great deal of dedication, despite the pain. Did this have something to do with why he was no longer in the Air Force?

  Kyle looked at the pill bottles on his counter. The over-the-counter pain killers barely did anything to dull the pain in his back. It was Friday evening. He could nuke some dinner and pass out and no one would care.

  As he started to reach for the prescription pain killers, his phone rang.

  “Hey, Marcella.”

  She groaned. “Hello Kyle Dean.”

  He smiled. He loved picking on his little sister. Even though she tried to get him back, he usually won. Her use of his middle name didn’t bother him in the least.

  “Come to dinner with me and Chad. I want you to meet him.”

  He hesitated, looking at the pain killers. If he stayed home, he would get the rest he desperately needed. The full week at work left him more worn out than he thought it would.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. Niki will be there too.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You said you were looking for some way to reconnect with her outside of the office. Here’s your chance, all nicely gift wrapped by me.”

  “When and where?” He conceded. Marcy knew him far too well—even though he had done a terrible job of staying in touch with her over the last several years.

  “Meet at my place in thirty minutes?”

  “See ya.”

  He hung up the phone and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. He swallowed several, chasing them with a sip of water. Hopefully that would dull the pain enough that he could make it through dinner.

  He slowly climbed the stairs to the master suite, wondering for the tenth time why he bought a two story place. The doctors warned him that stairs would cause him trouble for some time. But he hadn’t listened.

  Other than the stairs, the place was perfect. It was only a few minutes from Marcy’s house. It was plenty big enough that he could fix up a guest room when he expected visitors. The den downstairs would be a perfect place to set up his computer once he bought a desk. Maybe he would go look for one this weekend, if Dad could come with him. There was no way he’d be able to load anything into his truck. Lifting heavy objects could set him back months in his physical therapy.

  Kyle looked through his closet for something casual but nice. If Niki really was going to be at dinner, he wanted to put his best foot forward without looking like he tried too hard.

  He selected a pair of Lucky brand jeans that Marcy insisted he buy. She said they were jeans that would get a woman’s attention. He didn’t get it, but he trusted her expert opinion. Then he grabbed a dark gray t-shirt with some design on it, tossing it on the counter.

  Stripping off his work clothes, he stared at the reflection in the mirror. He hated the scars on his shoulder and chest. They were too much of a reminder of his brush with death and the accident that took his close friend. Nothing would be the same again.

  He forced himself from the melancholy thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. Snagging the gray shirt from the counter, he quickly covered his marred flesh. He splashed on a touch of cologne and checked his hair. Good enough.

  As he headed out the door, he opted for his bike instead of the truck. Marcy would probably have a fit, but he needed to feel the speed and freedom of riding his Harley. It let him feel like he was still in control of something in his life.

  “You have to come out with us tonight.” Marcy’s voice flowed through the speakers of Niki’s car.

  “You’re kidding right? I’m pretty sure your new boyfriend has had enough of me.”

  “Chad? He’s the one that suggested you come. He wants to thank you personally for introducing us—in a way of sorts.” Marcy’s voice went whiny. “Please Ni—iki.”

  She sighed. Nothing like being the third wheel at dinner with a newly infatuated couple. Should be lots of fun. Then again, what else did she have going on?

  “Okay, I’ll go. But I’m driving separate. Just in case you two gross me out with all your lovey-dovey googlie eyes.”

  Marcy laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  The phone went silent. Then Niki’s loud high energy music began blaring again. Half an hour later, she pulled into the garage and unloaded her usual stack of stuff on the kitchen counter.

  Kyle’s charming smile came to mind. The first week working with him was much better than she thought, as long as she didn’t hold the coffee-dousing against him. He had been very friendly—almost flirtatious on some occasions. But, when it came time to get down to business, he turned very professional—so completely opposite of the high school Kyle Jacobs. That version of him seemed dedicated to making her life miserable.

  She thought of the swim class she was in with him. Her stomach tightened at the memory.

  Niki had been a terrible swimmer back then. With her parents moving the family around so much, she never stayed in one place long enough to learn. Sadly, the first time she had a chance to learn was in swim class in high school at the age of fifteen.

  Kyle had been a good swimmer. He was all confident and cocky. Rumor was that he took the class for an easy “A”. He needed something to boost his GPA.

  The first day of the class, he must have sensed her fear.

  “Scared of the water, Turner?” he taunted. “Don’t you know girls have more body fat so they float better?”

  She was mortified, not sure if he was calling her fat. She wasn’t. But she did feel very self-conscious in the bathing suit.

  She didn’t feel any better when the instructor had to explain the lowest level basics of swimming to her. She had no idea what treading water was. She didn’t know the different style of strokes. She started out lower than everyone else.

  Then, about halfway through the semester, the instructor put her down at the deep end. The exercise for the day was to learn how to tread water. She was standing next to the edge when Kyle came by and shoved her. She stumbled before landing in the pool with a loud splash.

  She screamed before going under. Her panic got the better of her and she started to sink lower and lower. The instructor dove in and brought her back up. Once she was at the surface, he talked her through treading water.

  Niki tried and just wasn’t getting the whole scissor-kicking-while-moving-her-arms-back-and-forth thing. But, she didn’t sink again.

  Then the instructor paired her with Kyle. She was supposed to push him in an inner tube for a certain distance, then tread water for a minute, then push him some more. The pattern was supposed to repeat. Then he would do the same with her in the inner tube.

  Kyle made it as hard as possible for her. He dragged his arms and legs in the water, causing more resistance when she had to push him. Then he mocked her when she tried to tread water. He kept yelling at her to stop putting all her weight on the tube when she was supposed to be treading.

  By the end of that class, she felt completely humiliated.

  Niki sighed, shrugging off the bad memory. She certainly hoped Kyle wouldn’t do anything similar at Helitronics. They were both mature adults, right?

  Another Friday. Most people looked forward to Fridays. Not her. It meant the beginning of two long empty days of keeping herself entertained. Unless she tried to get ahead on work. She might not even log it as billable hours. No, Brian would have her head for that. If she did work, she’d have to bill it.

  What did other people do on the weekend?

  Marcy seemed to spend every waking minute with Chad these days. Then she went to church on Sunday morning and often to her parents in the afternoon. She always complained about the weekends being too
short.

  Niki had none of those things. No boyfriend, because she was dedicated to protecting her heart from loss. No church, because she refused to believe in a God who took everyone away from her. No afternoons with parents, because hers were gone. Once every few months she would go with Marcy to visit her friend’s parents, but that was not the same.

  Grabbing her laptop case, she walked down the hall to the master suite. She smiled again at the new paint color. It felt homier to her now. Extracting her laptop from its case, she set it on the dark walnut desk nestled in the bay window nook. Flipping the lid open, she debated whether to turn it on. She could squeeze in another hour of work before Marcy got home and they left for dinner. She pulled her long hair out of the tight ponytail. Then she ran her fingers through it, rubbing her scalp and shaking out the brown locks.

  The doorbell rang, announcing a visitor. Niki padded down the hall to the front door, working on her game face. She was prepared to shoot down whatever the solicitor wanted. As she opened the door, her stoic face slackened.

  “Hello, Niki.”

  “Kyle.” Guess he was stalking her now.

  Chapter 10

  Kyle shifted his weight to his other foot. “May I come in? Marcy told me it would be fine if I met her here.”

  Niki blinked at him through the security door with the wire design of a coyote howling at the moon. She really needed to switch that out for something more her style.

  Perfect. Marcy would not be home for almost another hour. Now she would have to entertain Kyle—the last person she wanted to spend her Friday night with. She would much rather be coding.

  At his throat clearing, she moved into action.

  “One second.” She closed the door then retrieved the key for the security door from its nearby hiding place. She never, never, never let the person on the other side of the door see where it was hidden. One could never be too careful. Key in hand, she opened the door, unlocked the security door, and held it open.

  Once Kyle stepped into the living room, she closed and locked both doors. She waited for him to turn his back and peruse the room before she stowed the key back in the drawer of the sofa table.

  “Wow. You’ve got a nice place.” Kyle spun around a second time.

  Her parents had picked a nice home. It’s why she kept it.

  “Thanks. Make yourself at home. I’ve got to go change.”

  She turned back down the hallway, locking the master suite door behind her. She didn’t know why she did that. She really had no reason to distrust him. None—other than two prank-filled years in high school. But that was a long time ago. And it’s not like he ever physically harmed her, though the day he’d shoved her into the pool came close.

  Digging through her closet, she settled on a pair of fashionable midrise jeans, bedazzled with flowers—something Marcy told her she had to buy during one of their rare shopping trips together. She hated shopping as much as Marcy loved it. Flipping through the casual tops, she settled on a solid bright pink fitted v-neck tee. Sliding a pair of wedge sandals from the shelf, she dropped them on the floor as she stripped off her blouse and skirt. Just as she donned the jeans, her phone rang.

  She looked around the room and realized she left it in her purse in the kitchen. Swiping the shirt from the bed, she threw it on quickly and darted down the hall. As she rounded the corner to the kitchen she ran into Kyle as her phone stopped ringing.

  “Drat,” she said trying to reach around him to get her purse. She must look a sight. Tangled hair and all.

  “Sorry.” As he looked down at her, a half-smile played across his lips. He pointed at her shirt.

  Looking down, her eyes went wide. She had put it on backwards! Mortified, she pushed him out of her way. She grabbed her phone and ran back down the hall. How did she always manage to end up in embarrassing situations with him around?

  Shutting the door behind her, she turned her shirt around so the v-neck pointed down her front this time. She picked up the phone and checked her voicemail. It was Marcy. She was running late and she mentioned that Kyle should be on his way.

  “Thanks, Marcy. Figured that one out.”

  She stepped into her bathroom to freshen her makeup. After turning on the expensive ion curling iron Marcy made her buy, she brushed out her hair. She would have preferred to throw it back into a ponytail again, but she knew Marcy would be annoyed by that. For some reason, she insisted Niki make some effort when going out. That was probably part of her project to find Niki a man.

  Twisting her hair around the curling iron, she held it for a few seconds until a bouncy curl formed. As she repeated the action over and over, she realized she was taking a long time and that Kyle was unsupervised in her house. On the last curl, her hand slipped and she hit her finger on the iron. Shutting it off and unplugging it, she hurried back to the kitchen for a piece of ice. For once, she didn’t collide with Kyle.

  He was standing in the great room with his back to her studying one of the pictures on the wall intently, not turning around at her presence.

  She made one last trip back to her room to put on her sandals and retrieve her phone before she entered the great room again.

  Kyle turned from the picture and let out a low whistle. Her face heated. “You look amazing.” A smile played on his lips as his eyes traveled from her head to her primly pedicured toes.

  “You can thank mother Marcy for that. She insists on dressing me.”

  “Well, she does a spectacular job.”

  Now he was just going overboard.

  She stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do next. He was still looking at her with those sparkling blue eyes, a hint of humor resting in them. She went to clasp her hands in front of her when the phone in her hand reminded her of Marcy’s call.

  “Marcy is running late,” she said waving her phone in the air.

  He nodded.

  Niki had to think of something. This staring at each across the great room was driving her crazy. “Would you like something to drink?” She walked towards the fridge.

  “Sure.”

  She listed off several options. He settled on diet soda, so she popped open two cans.

  “This okay?”

  He wordlessly took the offered can, taking a big swig. He leaned forward on the bar height counter across from her, expression serious.

  “About Monday,” he started.

  He would have to bring that up.

  “I’m really sorry I upset you with my… when I asked about Jack.”

  Niki looked away as her stomach knotted. Her eyes stung and she hoped he would drop the conversation.

  “I haven’t been the best brother or son, especially in keeping up with my family until very recently. I honestly didn’t know. And, frankly, you were the last person I expected to see when I walked into that meeting.”

  She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She couldn’t trust her words right now as tears tried to push their way forward. She was nearly undone by his genuine apology.

  “Marcy said you were a programmer—”

  “Software engineer.” She found her voice to correct him. Angry was always easier for her.

  “Software engineer,” he said tipping his head, “at some important firm. She never mentioned where you worked or that you worked for DoD clients.”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  Kyle’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “I mean, she knows the company I work for, but I don’t talk about my clients with her.”

  She stared down at her soda then slowly took a sip as the silence dragged.

  “You know, you weren’t the only one she kept in the dark.” Niki looked back in his general direction, carefully avoiding eye contact. “She never mentioned that you were out of the Air Force, or that you moved here, or that you worked at Helitronics.”

  Kyle nodded, not offering any new information. His secretiveness irked her. What was so wrong with saying something about why he was out?

  Letting
her ire spur words to her mouth, she asked, “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here because Marcy asked me to dinner with her and her boyfriend.”

  Great. Being the third wheel would have been better than having dinner with Kyle included.

  But, she didn’t let his answer deter her. “That’s not what I meant. What are you doing here, in Arizona? Out of the Air Force?”

  She leaned back against the counter next to the sink. Crossing her arms she waited for his answer.

  He pulled out the bar stool at the counter and sat. Something akin to regret passed across his face before he finished off his diet soda.

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  “Why are you avoiding the question, Kyle?”

  He was silent for a long time. He looked back towards the picture in the great room. She followed his gaze to the picture of Jack. Confused by his interest in her brother’s picture she quickly looked back at him.

  When he spoke, his gaze remained on the picture. “I’m just not ready to discuss it yet.”

  “Does it have to something to do with the pain?”

  Kyle’s head snapped back and he fixed his attention on her. His expression changed from sadness to surprise to anger. “Don’t press me.”

  She watched his face carefully. Fear widened his eyes. He balled his hands at his side, the pink flesh of his knuckles turning white. Dots of perspiration rested on his forehead. His lips formed a tight thin line. Then sadness settled into the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak as his fingers relaxed.

  “Hey, I’m home!” Marcy’s voice burst through the door from the garage with its owner. Her smile faded when she looked from Kyle to Niki. Neither masked their irritation with the other before she saw it.

  She walked to her brother and gave him a hug, whispering something in his ear. When she pulled back, concern crossed her face. “Should you be riding the bike? Are you well enough for that yet?”

  He frowned again. “It wasn’t that far, Marcella.”

  She swatted at his arm. “You know I hate that name.”

  Turning towards Niki, she said, “Chad is going to meet us there, so can I ride with you?”