Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 4 Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 4

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Dillon made a gruesome face. “There’s blood,” he announced.

  Sierra touched the thin portion of skin at the corner of her eye, and indeed there was blood. Only a drop, and it felt as if the tiny tear had already closed up. Definitely not a cause for panic or for stitches. “It’s okay,” Sierra said, returning the cold can to her throbbing eye.

  “It’s on your shirt, too,” Dillon announced.

  Sierra looked down, and sure enough, the white T-shirt she had saved for today so she would look fresh when she saw Paul and hugged him had a splattering of red drips down the left side. It looked as if a dizzy bird had dipped its feet in red paint and tried to walk down her shirt.

  Sierra calmly assessed the situation. Or at least she tried to calmly assess the situation. They were a couple of hours away from San Diego by her calculations. That would give the swelling around her eye time to go down. Certainly they would need gas or someone would need to go to the bathroom before they arrived in San Diego. Then she could persuade her dad to open the back of the trailer, and somehow she would find her bag and a clean shirt. The duffel bag under her feet held only dirty clothes from the last two days.

  With another rush of sadness, Sierra realized she couldn’t simply take her bloody shirt home and ask her mother to remove the stain. From now on, Sierra was responsible for all her laundry. The realization sobered her and for some reason made her eye hurt more.

  Then, to her surprise, her dad pulled off the freeway. She hoped it would be the gas stop she was counting on, but she didn’t want to bug him about opening the jam-packed trailer until they actually stopped. The problem was he didn’t stop. He followed Wesley’s directions, weaving through a residential area until they came to a large house with a blue tile roof and a long driveway. That’s when Mr. Jensen stopped the car.

  “We’re here!” he announced, smiling at Sierra in the rearview mirror.

  four

  “HOW CAN WE BE HERE?” Sierra squawked, removing the can from her eye and staring at her father. “This isn’t San Diego. Paul’s family doesn’t live in a big, fancy house overlooking the beach.”

  Mr. Jensen turned around to view Sierra’s eye. He winced slightly, and she began to wonder just how bad her injury was. “This is Lindy’s parents’ home,” he explained.

  All three of Sierra’s brothers were already out of the car and headed for the front door.

  “Lindy?” Sierra echoed, placing the can back on her eye.

  “Lindy Mackenzie. Paul and Jeremy’s mom. Didn’t you hear the plans for this weekend?”

  Sierra shook her head.

  “Lindy’s parents offered to have the engagement party here and let all of us stay with them because they have more room than the Mackenzies do. That way we don’t have to rent a hotel room.”

  “How long will we be here?” Sierra asked, feeling lost and out of the loop for all the weekend plans.

  “Tawni and Jeremy are at the airport right about now picking up Mom and Granna Mae. We’ll stay here tonight and tomorrow night. Tonight is dinner with the two families, and tomorrow is a reception at the Mackenzies’ church in San Diego. On Monday I’ll take you and Wes to Rancho and get you all set up. Don’t you remember our discussing any of this?”

  Sierra shook her head again.

  “Let me see your eye.” Mr. Jensen leaned closer and made a sympathetic sound with his tongue behind his teeth. “Let’s get you in the house and see if we can find a better compress. You’re going to have a nasty shiner.”

  “Great,” Sierra muttered. She peeled her sweaty legs off the seat and the mound of duffel bags and crawled out of the van. At least it was cooler outside, with a nice ocean breeze blowing. And it felt good to stretch. But she felt fear, embarrassment, and excitement over seeing Paul. She glanced at the house’s front door, which was now shut. Her brothers apparently had disappeared inside. Did that mean Paul knew she was here and was waiting for her to go all the way to the front door before he greeted her? What would be so hard about his coming halfway or even all the way out to the car? How could she run into his arms and hug him if he wouldn’t even come out of the house? But then again, how graceful would it be to run into his arms with a can of root beer held fast to her face, hiding her hideous eye? Maybe it was better that he hadn’t come out to the car. Maybe it would be darker inside. The bloodstains might not look so bad inside the house.

  Sierra and her father walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Sierra kept her head down. She noticed the large clay pot by the front door full of bright yellow flowers with little blue flowers brimming over the edges and trickling down the sides.

  The door opened, and a large woman with short, stylish white hair and large, light blue-rimmed glasses welcomed them in. She was older than Sierra’s mom and younger than Granna Mae, based on Sierra’s one-second evaluation. The woman wore a gold charm bracelet that clinked pleasantly as she waved Sierra and her dad into the narrow entryway.

  “Please, please, come on in. The boys wanted to go right out to the back to see the view. I haven’t met you yet, Sierra. I’m Jeremy’s grandmother. Please call me Catherine.” The gracious woman smiled, revealing unusually white teeth. They weren’t perfectly straight, but they were so white they were pretty when she smiled. She was young for a grandmother. Sierra could never imagine her grandmother inviting anyone to call her “Mae.”

  “How was the trip, Howard?” Catherine asked, motioning with her charm-braceleted hand for them to come into the sunken living room, which was two steps down from the entryway.

  Sierra followed her dad. Two things bothered her. First, she was walking around with a can of root beer pressed against her face and Catherine hadn’t even blinked. And second, where was Paul?

  “Please sit down. May I bring you something to drink, or …” For the first time Catherine seemed to notice Sierra wasn’t sipping from the can of soda in her hand.

  Sierra slowly pulled down her hand to reveal her wound.

  “Oh, gracious!” Catherine said. “You come into the kitchen with me, and we’ll get a proper bag of ice on that. Goodness gracious! What happened?”

  Fortunately, Mr. Jensen followed Sierra into the kitchen and explained the situation. He also took over the preparation of the compress by suggesting they use a small bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel. It felt much better than the can of root beer.

  “So, where’s everyone else?” Sierra asked, trying to sound casual and trying to look natural with a bag of frozen peas covering the left side of her face.

  “My husband is out back with the boys. Tawni and Jeremy went to the airport to pick up your mom and grandmother, and I expect Paul to arrive with his parents shortly after six. He had to work today, so if they don’t hit much traffic, we should be ready for dinner by six-thirty.” Catherine gave Sierra a compassionate smile. “I could show you to the guest room where Tawni and you will be staying, if you would like to rest a bit or maybe freshen up.” She said it so nicely that Sierra decided she really liked Paul’s grandmother. After hearing about his grandmother on his father’s side, who lived in Scotland and rationed the heat when Paul had stayed with her on the weekends, Sierra found it hard to picture this elegant yet friendly and gracious woman as his other grandmother.

  Sierra accepted the invitation to go to the guest room. As soon as Catherine closed the door, Sierra made a beeline to the adjacent bathroom, where she examined her eye. It was a lulu, no doubt about it. She was going to have to brace herself for all the “Rocky” jokes because there was no hiding this one.

  Tawni’s things were already unpacked in the room. Sierra wondered if her sister would mind if she borrowed a clean shirt. Certainly Tawni would understand when she saw the damage. She knew how deeply Sierra cared for Paul. Tawni would want to do everything she could to aid Sierra in a successful reunion, wouldn’t she?

  Sierra’s judgment instructed her not to touch any of her sister’s things. Noticing the alarm clock on the dresser, Sierra saw
it was only three-thirty. Paul wouldn’t be there for two hours. Maybe the best thing would be to stretch out on that inviting bed and let the ice pack work on the swelling. When Tawni arrived, Sierra would ask about a shirt or persuade Tawni to have their dad open the trailer for the luggage. Things were looking up. Maybe Sierra’s reunion with Paul wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

  Stretching out on the queen-size bed, Sierra felt as if she could fall asleep then and there, it was so comfortable. Not a single lumpy duffel bag touched her anywhere. Within a few minutes, she did fall into a luxuriously deep sleep.

  Tawni woke her some time later by gently shaking Sierra’s shoulder and asking in a louder than normal voice the silliest question in the world, “Are you asleep?”

  “I was,” Sierra mumbled, forcing her eyes to open and trying to figure out where she was. Her left eye wouldn’t open all the way. That’s when she remembered.

  “Did you lose this?” Tawni asked, holding up the defrosted bag of peas, which had fallen onto the floor.

  “Ouch,” Sierra said, sitting up.

  “I guess,” Tawni said, leaning closer for a more thorough examination of the swollen eye. “Why do these things always happen to you, Sierra?”

  “Don’t start with me, Tawni. I’m in a bad mood.”

  Tawni reared back and put her hand on her hip. She was a beautiful woman, even when she was putting on a mock show of being offended. Her year of working as a professional model had given her natural loveliness and grace added polish. She had tried out a variety of looks over the past year, including a wild array of hair colors. Today she looked more like her childhood self: Her hair was a soft strawberry blond color, and she wore little makeup. She was still gorgeous, and once again Sierra felt the familiar stab of pain at being the little sister in the shadow of the perfect Tawni. The black eye only added to the tomboy memories from childhood. She felt more like a fifth-grader than a high school graduate who was moving into her dorm room next week.

  “You don’t have to leave it like that, you know,” Tawni said, her voice soft but still carrying an edge to it. “Take a shower, and I’ll put some makeup on it for you. I also have a few techniques to help with the swelling.”

  “I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “You can wear whatever you want of mine,” Tawni offered.

  Sierra hesitated only a moment before complying with her sister’s directions. “Are Mom and Granna Mae here?” she asked.

  “Yes. Granna Mae is taking a nap. Paul and his parents should be here in less than an hour, so you had better hurry.”

  Prompted by her sister’s reality check, Sierra picked up the pace. Just before she closed the bathroom door, she turned and gave her sister a grateful smile, which also made her eye hurt. “Hey, Tawni, thanks. And congratulations on your engagement and everything.”

  Tawni’s smile broadcast that she was a woman in love and nothing could ruin her mood, not even her kid sister with a black eye.

  five

  SIERRA HURRIEDLY SHOWERED. She was beginning to feel anxious about seeing Paul. Tawni was nice to offer to give Sierra a speedy makeover for the event.

  Stepping back into the bedroom with the towel around her, Sierra spotted her mom sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Hi!” Sierra said, her mood definitely improving. “How was your trip down?”

  Mrs. Jensen looked closely at Sierra. “Obviously a lot less eventful than yours. Gavin told me what happened. I’m so sorry, honey. He said you told him not to feel bad about it. I appreciate your saying that to him.”

  “It was an accident,” Sierra said, adjusting her towel and wishing she had a robe to put on. It was much cooler in the bedroom than the bathroom, and she was getting goose bumps on her arms.

  “I’m going to work a wonder on her,” Tawni said, swishing past Sierra and carrying a large makeup case into the bathroom. “Let’s decide what you’re going to wear first because that might determine the hues I select.”

  “The hues?” Sierra questioned, giving her mom a silly grin. “Is that model talk for color?”

  “Of course,” Tawni said, making her way back into the bedroom with quick yet fluid motions. She reached into the closet and pulled out a short summer dress on a hanger and gave it a snap in the air to chase away any wrinkles. “What about this one?”

  “For me?” Sierra skeptically scanned the short, thin, straight dress. It was an earthy bronze color with embroidery in matching thread around the scoop neck. This was definitely a departure from the usual long, gauze skirts Sierra picked up at the vintage thrift stores in Portland. Tawni’s selection had a Southwest, hot-summer-in-Arizona look about it and was nothing Sierra would ever have been drawn to in a store window.

  “It might be a little short on Sierra,” Mrs. Jensen said.

  Suddenly, Sierra didn’t think it was so short. Tawni was taller than Sierra, and if Tawni could wear this dress, why couldn’t Sierra? Besides, they were in Southern California now, and it was definitely hot. The dress would make her look much older, and since Paul was two years older than Sierra and had, in the past, alluded to her need to grow up, this dress might just be the right item to wear. With a little help from Tawni and her wardrobe, Sierra decided she could grow up in the next half hour.

  “I like it,” Sierra said decidedly. “I’ll put it on.”

  “Oh, no,” Tawni said, pulling back the dress. “First the makeup. Here, you can wear this robe, if you want. Start drying your hair, but be sure to leave my diffuser on the dryer. I don’t want you to blow all the curl out.”

  Sierra gave her mom another comical expression and then said, “Right, like that would ever happen. The curse of the curls is with me for life, dear Tawni. As if you had never noticed.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tawni said, with another vivacious grin. “I have plans for all those curls.”

  “Well,” Mrs. Jensen said, rising from the bed. “I’m not sure I should stick around for this. It’s hard on this old heart of mine to watch both of you turn into such lovely women before my eyes.”

  “You’re just not used to seeing us get along so well,” Sierra said. “It’s the new, improved Tawni-and-Sierra relationship.”

  Mrs. Jensen stood another moment admiring her daughters before leaving the room. Her parting words were “I love you both.”

  “Here,” Tawni said, handing Sierra a bottle of hair spritz. “Spray this on before you start drying. It’ll protect your hair from the heat. And hurry.”

  “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” Sierra slipped into the bathroom, put on the robe, squirted the fine mist all over her hair, and went to work drying it. Tawni came in and began doing Sierra’s makeup. Sierra gave up trying to dry her hair, since Tawni kept complaining that the air was blowing on her face.

  Sitting as still as she could, Sierra allowed her sister to work her miracle. Tawni worked quickly and expertly, giving Sierra compliments along the way.

  “You have the perfect shape of lips, you know. I wish mine were like that on top. I have to draw in the heart shape. And your skin is really clear. Have you been using anything special?”

  “No.”

  “I always get blemishes right here on my chin. It doesn’t look like you do.”

  “I get them behind my ears.”

  “At least you can hide those.” Tawni stepped back and admired her work around Sierra’s swollen eye. “Take a look.”

  Tawni moved away from the mirror, and Sierra was startled by her reflection. She looked stunning. The blackness had disappeared, and even the swelling had seemed to go down after Tawni applied a clear cream under her eye. The amount of makeup was more than Sierra had ever worn. Her blue-gray eyes were emphasized dramatically, and her lips were colored and looked ready for kissing.

  “I look …” Sierra couldn’t find the word.

  “You look gorgeous,” Tawni said. “Here, blot your lips. I know it’s more than you would normally wear, but to get it all to blend with the color under
your eyes, I had to go heavier. I think you look stunning, and Paul will be stunned when he sees you.”

  “You sure?”

  Tawni nodded and checked her watch. “Oh no! We’re running out of time. Let me get your hair up, and then you can dress. I have a pair of sandals that match the dress perfectly. You have shaved your legs recently, haven’t you?”

  Sierra quickly ran her fingers up her right leg. “They’re not too bad.”

  “Honestly, Sierra. I shave my legs every time I take a shower. I’ve never understood how you could stand to have prickly legs.”

  “They’re not prickly.”

  Tawni quickly ran her finger up Sierra’s leg, taking her own test. “They’re prickly. But that’s the least of your concerns right now. First the hair, then the dress.”

  Eight minutes later, Sierra stood before the bathroom mirror trying to decide what she thought of her reflection. Tawni had arranged Sierra’s wild blond curls on the top of her head by scooping them all up in a hair tie then letting the curls bubble out the top. With a dozen bobby pins, Tawni had twisted the larger curls and pinned them to the side of Sierra’s head. She had a magazine in front of her the whole time with a picture of this style and told Sierra that when she first saw the picture she wanted to try fixing Sierra’s hair that way.

  Sierra had to admit the effect was dramatic, which meant the fancy hair went with the heavy makeup and the short dress. It all went together. And it wasn’t too much, really. Tawni dressed like this all the time. It just didn’t feel familiar, and that made it a little scary.

  For a moment Sierra considered telling Tawni she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t meet Paul’s parents for the first time looking like a junior Tawni model. And she couldn’t meet Paul looking so different from when he had seen her last, more than a year ago. Could she? But then she thought of how this was Tawni’s weekend, this was Tawni’s party, and Tawni had had so much fun fixing Sierra up like this. It would certainly put her sister in a bad mood if Sierra rejected the makeover. She felt stuck.