by Kim Law
“Well, I’m going to tell your dad, is what. And he’ll dance with joy, just like I will.”
Arsula shot her mom a look. Her parents were very much enjoying their three grandkids—soon to be four—and though her mom might like to tease her that it was time she did her part by adding to the herd, she and her mother both knew her father would have a stroke if his single baby girl turned up pregnant.
“Neither of you would dance with joy if I answered with yes, so don’t even pretend otherwise.”
Her mother’s smile turned gentle. “If the yes came with the love of your life, I would.”
“Yeah, well”—she glanced at the reflection in the glass again—“I’m not sure the love of my life lives in Montana. At least, not in Birch Bay. But I’ll keep looking.”
The view on the screen bounced as her mother moved, and Arsula could tell from the glimpses of the background that her mom was at work. At the same time, Arsula’s cell buzzed with an incoming text.
“Are you busy, Mom?” The text was from Megan. “Do I need to call you back?”
“Of course you don’t. I’m just taking you into the break room to refill my coffee.”
Arsula tapped to open the text window.
No need to meet up. We’re good.
The words didn’t exactly settle her.
“Refilling coffee is definitely better than one of the many times you’ve taken me into the bathroom with you to get rid of coffee,” she pointed out to her mom as she quickly typed out another message.
There are also rumors about what’s going on while he’s staying here, but nothing is going on. He didn’t want to stay at the house, and I’m just trying to help. I feel somewhat responsible since it was my stairs.
She held back on mentioning that it had also been her lamp meeting the back of his head.
I broke up with *him*, Arsula. Not the other way. And I’m good with that. And YOU know that.
She nodded. She did know that. Another message came in.
Also . . . concerning that night . . . I will admit that it *was* shocking to discover he’d been at your place. And I’m not asking what did or didn’t happen because again, we *were* broken up. Any lingering issues with that are between him and me. But I do want to say that . . . well . . . if you *did* decide you wanted to go out with him . . .
Arsula reread the message in confusion.
If I *did* decide I wanted to go out with him . . . what?
I’m just saying . . . my current irritation with him notwithstanding, he is a good guy. And you’re a good person . . . And I’d love to see you both happy.
Arsula stared at the follow-up message. Was Megan saying that she’d be okay with it if she wanted to go out with Jaden?
But she didn’t want to go out with Jaden. Why would Megan even think that?
“So what is it that’s keeping you so busy lately?” Her mother’s voice sounded from the tablet’s position on her desk, and Arsula’s attention flew back to the conversation she was supposed to be having.
Her mom took a casual sip of coffee, her eyes slightly narrowed as if trying to figure something out.
“Mostly just working.” Arsula set down the phone, then she readjusted the angle of the tablet when she realized Jaden’s unmade bed could be seen in the background. “How’s Dad?”
“As busy as ever. He flew down to New Mexico over the weekend for a coin show that had a rare dealer attending.”
She picked up her phone again. “He’s passionate about his coins.” She used to go to coin shows with him when she was a kid. “How about Whitney?” She began typing another message. “She and baby still doing okay?”
Whitney was Boyd’s very pregnant wife.
“Doing fine. The doctor remains firm on the end of March. Are you still planning to come down?”
She finished tapping out the message and looked back at the tablet. “Am I coming in for the birth of what could potentially be the first girl born into the family? Absolutely.” Tradition was that the first girl born per generation was to be named Arsula. Her brother had yet to commit to whether he’d follow tradition if they had a girl, however. “I would prefer if Whitney could hold off a few weeks, though. I think my namesake should be born on my birthday.”
Her mother laughed, her tone more “yeah, right” than filled with humor. “I’ll let Whitney know of your request.”
Arsula smiled. “Please do.”
She pushed “Send.”
I don’t know about *dating* . . . but thanks??? And back to the subject at hand. Any chance you’d consider talking to him? I think he’s still “confused.”
She wasn’t sure how much Jaden talking to Megan would actually help, but between him still wanting her back and him now being upset at the role he felt Arsula had played in the breakup, possibly a follow-up with his ex would allow him to chill long enough to be civil with her.
“If Whitney could hold out”—she went back to the conversation with her mom—“then I’d be able to see you all on my birthday.” The Morettis were excellent at celebrating birthdays. There was always an event of some sort, with tons of friends and family showing up. That was one of the few things Arsula hated about not living in Cheyenne. She feared her birthday wouldn’t feel special this year.
Buzz.
I don’t really have anything to say to him. I am fine. Truly. I was just . . .
Arsula nodded. She got it. She thumbed out a one-word message.
Embarrassed.
Yeah.
Megan, I’m so sorry for my part in that.
Maybe she should go into detail about that night.
Megan replied. Don’t worry about it. YOU are forgiven. You and I aren’t the ones who dated for three years.
Arsula appreciated the words, as well as the unspoken ones. She also wasn’t the one Megan had broken up with only hours before.
Her phone buzzed again.
But if you *really* wanted to make me feel better . . . I will take you up on your original offer to meet up. Let’s get together so I can show you your website. I’m loving what I’ve done with it so far.
Arsula dropped the phone to her desk. She’d only talked about a potential website on a whim. She hadn’t really thought Megan would go off and build it.
That didn’t mean the idea didn’t excite her, though. Forming a true business. Shaping her future in a way that would not only make her accessible to those around her, but to anyone—anywhere—with a need. Taking dream interpretation to the next level.
She swallowed against her nerves. There were people worldwide striving daily to find a sense of wholeness. People unable to see their paths only because they didn’t possess the skills to center themselves. To look at fulfilling from within before attempting to “have it all.” And she could help those people. She wanted to help them.
Yet at the same time . . .
“You still with me, Lula-bell?”
Arsula jerked her attention back to her mom once again, her heart pounding as if she’d just stood up to her father in front of a room of his own colleagues. “I really am sorry, Mom. I just—”
“Do I need to let you go?”
“No. Definitely not.” She stared into her mother’s curious face. And she thought about her dad’s disappointed one. She held up her cell. “Just a friend reaching out. Something I didn’t expect. Can you give me one more minute to finish this? But don’t hang up, please. I miss you. I want to talk to you some more.”
“Of course, baby.” Her mother took another sip of coffee, and Arsula offered an apologetic smile.
Then she went back to her phone.
Lunch sometime? Megan had said.
I don’t . . .
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and erased the message she’d started.
I’m still not sure I want to go down that path. I’ve been thinking . . . I might decide to do something entirely different with my life.
Why in the world would you do that?!?! This is who yo
u are.
She nodded. She knew that. Or, it’s who she could be.
Another message came in.
What are you scared of, Arsula?
Losing my dad’s love forever?
She shook her head. She definitely wasn’t about to say that. And when her mother made a slight hmmm sound, she remembered that her mom was also still watching. She masked the concern on her face and thumbed a quick reply.
I’m not scared. Just not sure.
There was a delay before her phone buzzed again, and Arsula felt as if Megan knew she was lying. Because she was terrified.
Fine. But I’m going to keep working on it whether you help me or not. For when you *do* decide you’re ready. I also have an idea for the book cover I want to work up. In case you want to see that, too.
Arsula didn’t reply. She knew she should, but her thumbs no longer seemed to work. Megan had created a book cover.
For the book Arsula hadn’t worked on since going home for Christmas.
She carefully put the phone down, turning it over as if not wanting to risk seeing the last message again, and then she went back to her mom for good. She’d tell anyone who asked to trust in their gut. To go for what they believe in their heart to be true. And for the first time, she was disappointed in herself for not going with her gut. For not knowing what she needed to do.
Her mother gave her a gentle smile. “Are you okay, Lula?”
“I am.” She put on a brave face, for some reason expecting her mother to mention that her father still wanted to know when she’d be returning for good, but her mom didn’t bring the subject up.
Instead, she said, “So tell me about this new man in your life.”
Arsula choked on the water she’d just taken a sip of. “What makes you think there’s a new man in my life?”
“Because you didn’t call last week. You only forget to call when a new man enters your life.”
She gaped at her mother. “That’s not true at all. Sometimes I just forget.”
“Yes, but then you remember at some ungodly hour and leave me a voice mail.” What her mother said made sense. She had done that. But she wasn’t about to validate it.
Instead, she argued. “If you knew I’d forgotten, then why didn’t you call me? The line goes both ways, you know.”
Her mother sighed. “Lula, honey. I couldn’t call you because I had to wait in order to see if there was a new man in your life.”
Talking to her mother could be like running in circles.
She caught sight of Nate’s truck as he pulled onto Main Street, and she quickly scanned the parking spots in front of the building. The downtown area was busy today, and there weren’t any empty slots outside the office. Nor in the handicapped area just around the corner.
“No new man, Mom. Just some friends.” The truck disappeared.
“You’re still fitting in well, then? How’s the job?”
Nate made a second pass in front of the building, and she could see Jaden sitting in the passenger seat. His back seemed to be a little too straight. “I love Birch Bay. You should come visit. And the job’s a job. Dani’s a great boss.”
“I don’t mean the PR business,” her mother said, her tone serious, and Arsula looked back down. Her dad might never understand her sudden whim to move away from all she’d ever known, but her mom got her perfectly. “The real job,” she continued. “The one of your heart. How is that going?”
Her mom touched a fist to her chest, and a knot lodged in Arsula’s throat. The women in her family were taught that the heart was the most precious gift and that it should always beat the loudest.
“That’s going well, too, Mom.” She opened her mouth to share that she’d found the person she’d moved to Birch Bay to help, but Nate suddenly appeared from the left side of the building, and a half second later, Jaden came into view. He was moving on his own, but Nate had an arm lifted, ready to catch him if he fell.
She rose. “I’ve got to go, Mom. Someone’s coming that I need to speak with.”
“Okay. I’ll tell your father you said hello, and you tell that gentleman of yours that I did.”
Arsula glanced back down, twisting her mouth into a frown. “There is no man, Mom.”
“Okay, baby. You keep telling yourself that.”
Arsula pushed the button to disconnect, then she hurried to open the door. A blast of frigid air hit her in the face, but she didn’t let it slow her. She hurried out, getting on Jaden’s other side, ready to help carry him as well.
“I’m fine,” Jaden gritted out, white as a ghost.
“Yeah.” Her sarcasm barely hid her concern. “You look fine. I’m just out here because I like being cold.”
They made it to the door, and she held it open. Nate helped him inside, and for the first time since she’d met him, Nate Wilde didn’t scowl at her. “I shouldn’t have let him talk me into taking him today,” he admitted.
“I told you it was too soon.” She frowned at Jaden when he opened his mouth to argue, then she hurried to smooth the covers back on his bed.
“Do you need to take a leak?” Nate asked.
“Just get me horizontal,” Jaden pleaded, and as his face turned into a maze of lines and grooves, Nate eased him onto the mattress.
Arsula had a pain pill in hand before he could claim that he didn’t need one, and shoved it into his mouth. He swallowed it, even before she handed over the water, then Arsula met Nate’s gaze in matching concern.
“The dumbass apparently tripped going into the building, yet he sat there for the entire session anyway.” He nodded toward Jaden’s foot. “It’s swelled more than it has in a week.”
Arsula uncovered his foot and loosened his splint.
Jaden groaned.
“Should we call his doctor?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Jaden grunted out. “Maybe just some ice.”
“I’ll get the ice.” Nate disappeared into the kitchen, and Arsula rushed to the bathroom to wet a cloth.
She came back, pressing it against the sweat lining Jaden’s brow at the same time that Nate returned with the ice. The two of them worked silently together, both forgetting any irritations with each other and focusing solely on Jaden, and once they’d done all they could, they stood back and watched.
“Quit eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat,” Jaden grumbled. “Stretched out here like I’m a smorgasbord for your pleasure.”
One corner of Nate’s mouth lifted. “Those damned pills sure do work fast.”
“Don’t say damn,” Jaden added, his eyes now closed and his breathing beginning to return to normal. “Jesus doesn’t like it.”
Nate turned to her in confusion, and she lifted a shoulder as if she didn’t have a clue what Jaden might be talking about. He must remember her shouting that at him right before he’d fallen down her stairs, though. And that knowledge loosened something she typically kept locked tight inside.
“Go away,” Jaden added. His eyes remained closed. “Let me die alone.”
Nate shook his head and passed over a bag of fast food. “He’s all yours. If he isn’t being as pissy as he”—he shot her a look—“heck, then he’s loopy off these blasted meds. And I’m tired of both personalities.”
Before leaving, Nate moved closer to his brother and peered down, and Arsula watched as the concern eased from his face. Jaden was already asleep.
He stepped from the room, and she followed.
“Let me know if the swelling goes down tonight. If it doesn’t, I’ll be over in the morning to get him to the doctor.”
Arsula agreed, and Nate left. She then returned to Jaden’s side, having heard him whisper her name.
“What can I get for you?” She dotted away a few more beads of sweat.
“Sit with me.”
“Okay.” She turned for the chair she kept in the corner, but he latched on to her hand.
“No.” The blue of his eyes was barely visible between his lashes. “Sit on the bed with me.
”
She nodded, and she sat on the bed. They hadn’t been this close since the morning after his surgery, but she’d do whatever it took to calm him so he could sleep through his pain. But then his hand landed on her thigh.
“Quit being mad at me, Arsula,” he slurred out. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”
“You’re the one who’s mad at me,” she reminded him. She also fought a smile. She did like this man when he was drugged.
“I’m not anymore.” He patted her leg. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Then we won’t fight anymore.”
“Good.”
They sat there like that for a while longer, his breathing evening out almost immediately, and just as she decided it was time to return to her desk, Jaden opened his eyes.
“You know you’re not a real counselor. You don’t have the right education.”
And there went the warm fuzzies the prior moment had created. “I’ve never claimed to be a counselor.”
“Yet that’s what you do.” He pointed toward her desk. “I’ve watched you. You offer everyone advice. You listen to them.”
“I told you before. I’m good with people.”
He shook his head. “It’s not real. You don’t have a gift, and you’re not a real counselor.”
“It is real,” she said softly. And she thought about what Erica had told her after they’d left the restaurant Friday night. Carol Wilde had been a narcissist, leaving a path of destruction both before and after her death. She’d played with her kids’ emotions and pitted her children against each other. And Arsula could only imagine the list of grievances Erica didn’t know about. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”
She held Jaden’s hand in hers, and that seemed to keep him from slipping into sleep.
“Don’t prove it. Just help me get Megan back.”
His plea hurt her heart. “Why do you want her back, Jaden? What makes you think she’s got to be the one?”
His eyelids drooped. “Because I need her to love me.”
Chapter Eleven
Suck it! I win!” Nick rose from his seat in Dani and Ben’s rec room, hands in the air, and strutted around the room as if he’d just taken down a moose. In actuality, he’d won a game of Clue.
