On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3)

by Karen Lenfestey

  On the way to physical therapy, he heard the foreman call out to him. Nathan considered climbing into his car, pretending he hadn’t heard. Instead, he paused and waited for the middle-aged man in an unzipped windbreaker, a red plaid shirt and jeans, to approach.

  “Is there a problem?” Nathan asked.

  The foreman stuck his hands in his coat pockets to warm them. “Well, it looks like we need to order some more tiles. I’m afraid we underestimated the number needed. That’s going to increase the cost a bit, I’m afraid.”

  Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets, fumbling for his keys. “How much?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe a thousand dollars more.”

  Shrugging, Nathan searched for his car key on his jingling key ring. “Do it. Do it fast. They’re predicting rain next week.”

  The man nodded. “Just wanted to check with you first. You know, the balance is due before we finish.”

  Nathan opened his car door and waved to the man. “I’m well aware.” Without waiting for the roofer to step back, Nathan started the car and threw it into reverse. He had to get away before his head exploded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Mia walked in and saw Nate sitting on the cushioned exam table in the corner room. She clutched his chart to her chest and silently berated herself. She shouldn’t have gotten a tattoo with a patient. Alcohol always made her do dumb things.

  She forced herself to offer a pleasant, but restrained, “Hi. How are you?”

  After he answered “just fine”, he spotted a silver harmonica on the chair in the corner. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, a kid came in with his grandpa today and he must’ve forgotten it.”

  Nate hopped down and picked up the instrument. Thrusting one side into his mouth, he slid it up and down the notes. Just as quickly, he removed it. “Man, this takes me back.”

  She couldn’t help but admire his twinkling eyes and dimpled chin. “Takes you back where?”

  He studied the shiny silver rectangle in his palm. “I used to play in a band.”

  “You played harmonica? Not guitar or drums or something cool?”

  “Hey, harmonicas are cool.” He started to play a melody. After several bars, he stopped and checked her expression.

  She clapped. “You’re really good. Did you write that?”

  A short guttural laugh. “You didn’t recognize it? That was Blues Traveler. They’ve been on Letterman, Saturday Night Live, in a bunch of movies.”

  She shrugged. Must be an old band. But Nate wasn’t much older than she was. She’d checked his chart. Eight years wasn’t that big a deal.

  He played a bit from another song.

  She pictured him in a black T-shirt and faded, skin-tight blue jeans, playing on stage. “I guess harmonica players can be cool.”

  He nodded. Clearly vindicated.

  She could listen to him play all day, but she patted the exam tabletop, indicating for him to lie face down. “Let’s see if you’ve been faithful to your exercises.”

  Guilt flashed across his face. “I must confess I’m getting a little bored. Do I really have to do them every day?”

  “Well, let’s see how strong you are. Maybe we can cut some exercises out.” This was a complaint she often heard from patients. It was her job to keep them motivated and make adjustments in their regimen. Her hands positioned themselves on his shoulder. “Put your arm out to your side.” She pressed on different muscles to make sure the right ones were activating with every movement. “Good.”

  As she worked, they chatted easily. He talked about the mosaic tile floor he’d uncovered in his house and about his son whom he adored.

  Nate cleared his throat. “I’m worried about Chip. I thought he was acing his spelling tests and I even rewarded him with a trip to a car show. Then we find out he’s been cheating.”

  She winced involuntarily when he said “we”. Hopefully he didn’t notice. “I remember cheating in fifth grade. We had to memorize all fifty states and their capitals.” She shook her head at the memory. “I didn’t study because it just seemed too daunting.”

  “That’s not it. Chip studies. I read to him every night. It’s like he has a mental block or something. I don’t understand it.”

  She directed him to stand. “Is it possible he has some kind of learning disability?”

  “Wouldn’t his teacher know if he did?”

  She shrugged. “You would think so.” Now Nate stood on his feet and faced her. As a therapist, she’d grown accustomed to invading people’s personal space, but today she avoided eye contact. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thumping. “But she doesn’t know how much you’ve been working with Chip at home. Something doesn’t add up.”

  “You’re right. Maybe I’ll get on the internet and try to figure out what’s going on with Chip.”

  Ah-choo! A small sneeze escaped her, tossing her head forward.

  Nate reached his fingers forward and pushed her stray curl back behind her ears. They stared into each other’s eyes without speaking. She didn’t trust herself if she opened her mouth. Her heart thudded even louder inside her chest.

  This was wrong. This was so wrong.

  # # #

  Mia sat in her small Mazda parked across the street from Nate’s place. It was like a Spanish mansion or something. She’d never seen anything like it around here. And she’d never been outside of Michigan to see this style of architecture either. Only in books. “Your wife is so lucky.” Just a whisper. She was alone.

  Her fingers danced across the steering wheel, tapping, as she watched. A couple of kids walked down the sidewalk and she hunched down in her seat.

  “What are you doing here? Hoping for evidence that his wife is a shrew?” She muttered to herself, knowing this type of surveillance wasn’t healthy. “But you didn’t imagine that spark when he brushed your bangs out of your eyes.” Involuntarily, her hand touched her hair in the same spot. Sweet memories. She’d replay that moment over and over in her mind tonight as she lay alone in bed.

  “John is nothing compared to Nate.” Her hand fisted at the name of her ex. The one she’d been in love with for the past year. The one who accidentally announced in a text message that he loved another woman. “Nate has a house, not a run-down apartment over his parents’ garage. Nate has a good job, Nate is the perfect combination of family man and. . .” She pictured him playing harmonica in a band. “Sexiness.” Her lips closed and she swallowed.

  Noticing her cell phone on the passenger seat beside her, she picked it up. Turned it on and clicked a picture of the beautiful home. His home. The one his wife didn’t appreciate. Once the photo was taken, she dropped the phone and wondered which window went to his bedroom. Probably upstairs and to the left.

  A familiar-looking golden retriever raced from the backyard into the front. Homer. He’d grown since she’d seen him last. Nate said that the dog had helped him bond with his son. How precious is that?

  She wouldn’t mind dating a man with a son. That just meant he was mature. Something she was more than ready for in a mate.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared--chasing the dog. He had long legs and square shoulders. Nate. Smiling and shrinking down even farther in her seat, she studied him.

  “Come here, Homer!” he shouted. The dog circled back around as if he thought this were a fun game. When Nate stopped, the dog stopped a good distance away. When Nate lurched, so did Homer.

  Grabbing her camera, she took a few more pictures. It would be nice to have his photograph. She checked the screen and saw that some shots blurred, but others turned out fine. Too bad she couldn’t zoom in.

  Homer ran behind the house, forcing Nate to disappear in his pursuit. Mia sighed. “If you bought me a house like this, Nate, I’d love you forever.”

  ###

  After physical therapy Nathan had driven around for a while killing time. He bought some AAA batteries because he had a nagging feeling that he needed them. He went to a matinee movie that he d
idn’t even care about. When he got home, let the dog out. He hadn’t had the time or money to build the fence he’d intended to install, so that Homer could roam free. Unfortunately, Homer went a little wild after being alone for a few hours. The silly dog took off running around the house.

  “Homer! Come here, boy.” Nathan was supposed to leave the dog on a long chain out back while everybody was gone during the day. Val thought that’s just what Nathan did, but since he didn’t have a job any more to go to, he liked to let the dog stay indoors where Homer had a soft place to lie.

  Nathan circled around to the front of the house, catching a whiff of nearby lilac bushes. He noticed a small car across the street. It kind of looked like Mia sitting behind the wheel. Of course, that was ridiculous. He only imagined it was her. He spotted Homer and the dog took off running toward the back. When he circled around the house a few minutes later, the car had left.

  Once he finally gave up on catching Homer, he went inside. He stood in the doorway and tried to charm the dog the way he used to charm women. “I don’t care if you follow me or not. But I’m done chasing you.” Homer tilted his head as if he understood. Or at least was trying to.

  “Maybe I’ll get a treat. Want a treat, boy?” Nathan headed into the kitchen and a moment later, Homer came inside. Nathan closed the door behind them before going to the shelf with the doggie treats.

  “Mia had a good idea today, boy. Said I should do research on learning disabilities. See if I can figure out how to help Chip.” He patted the dog on the head as it chomped its bone-shaped biscuit.

  Up the stairs and to the computer. Nathan logged on and typed in “reading problems” and all sorts of websites filled the screen. The information was a bit overwhelming. He looked at his watch after a while and discovered he’d been lost in cyberspace for two hours. Yet he didn’t feel as if he’d learned anything. His memory was like Swiss cheese.

  He heard the men on the roof hammering, which reminded him. He didn’t have the money to pay them when they finished the job. He closed out the web browser and decided he had one last resort.

  Twenty minutes later he pulled into Rod’s Garage. He parked his car, careful to leave the closest spaces open for customers. A couple of guys waved and shouted hello as he headed into the office. He nodded back.

  Rod spun his lucky coin across his desk. He looked up when Nathan entered the doorway and offered a hesitant smile. “Hi there, old friend.” He stood and they shook hands.

  Nathan took a seat across from the desk. “I hope you’re in the mood to give an old friend a second chance.”

  Rod pushed aside the paperwork blocking his view and sat. “What can I do?”

  “Give me my job back. I’m sorry I messed up before. I’ll pay you back the money you lost.” An anchor dropped in his gut. God knew he didn’t have the money to do that. Deeper and deeper this hole grew.

  “No worries.” Rod waved his hand dismissively. “You came back too soon. That’s all. Go home, take your medicine and come back when you’re better.”

  Anger surged. Take your medicine? How condescending. “Rod, I’m telling you, I am better.”

  Rod’s shoulders rose with a deep breath. “It hasn’t been that long since you messed up, Nathan.”

  Out of nowhere, Nate’s fist slammed on Rod’s desk. The coin jumped. “Damn it! Don’t make me beg!” A pen rolled across the surface and onto the floor.

  Rod’s eyes widened and he took another deep breath. “Nathan, I don’t know why you’re so upset. This isn’t like you.”

  Nathan sprang from his chair and paced like a caged tiger. “I need the money, Rod.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “No. I have a family to support, remember?”

  “Doesn’t Val work?”

  Rage flared. “I want to work. I want my own paycheck.” He punched the wall. The drywall caved in beneath his fist. Pain tore at his bloody knuckles.

  Rod stood up. “Calm down. Are you drinking again?” He paused. “Because if you are, you should go to a meeting. There’s one at St. Peter’s downtown tonight.”

  Nathan stared at his injured hand. Somehow the physical pain distracted him from his fury. He shook his head. “I . . . I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Coming closer, Rod looked at Nathan’s torn skin. “I’ll go get the first aid kit. You wait here.”

  Once Rod exited, Nathan noticed something shiny on the desk. Rod’s lucky coin. Nathan’s heart rattled against his ribs. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Staring. A thousand dollars would help. Who knew? Maybe it had gone up in value since Rod had had it appraised.

  He walked over to pick it up off the wooden surface. It was gold with a man’s profile on the front. Nathan licked his dry lips.

  Rod would be back any minute.

  Take it. This is your chance. You have no other options.

  He caressed the antique coin with his thumb. Self-hatred spewed like venom inside of him. He couldn’t help it. He shoved the coin inside his pocket and hurried out of there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Nathan knew he hadn’t hesitated nearly long enough before grabbing Rod’s coin. Now the gold rested in his open, no-longer-calloused palm. He hated what he saw. When had he gone soft?

  The scruffy-looking pawnbroker picked it up, adjusted his red baseball cap and studied it. He closed one eye as if to get a better look. “What’s this writing on the back?”

  “It’s Greek.”

  Baseball cap dude didn’t speak before walking toward the back of the shop, where he opened an office door. Nathan could hear two deep-pitched voices conferring, but he couldn’t make out their words.

  He shifted his weight and ran his hand through his hair. His eyes scanned the jewelry and weapons in the glass display case in front of him. Guitars and a moose head were mounted on the wall. It had been a long time since he’d frequented a place like this.

  The baseball cap man returned to the room. “I’ll give you one-hundred dollars.”

  “Are you kidding?” Nathan heard his voice grow loud. “It’s worth at least a thousand.”

  The guy shrugged. “Put it on eBay if you want.”

  Nathan raised his hands and squeezed the sides of his head. “Damn.” He couldn’t list it on eBay. He wanted this dirty business over and done with as quickly as possible. Acid already swirled in his gut. “Can’t you do better?”

  The man turned the coin in his fingers, squinting again. “Alright. One-fifty.”

  Nathan slammed his palms on the glass counter, causing it to rattle. Baseball cap guy didn’t look too pleased. Nathan started pacing a small area. What was he doing? His heart thump, thump, thumped. He swallowed, trying to alleviate his dry throat. “I’ll have to think about it.” He held out his hand.

  The man seemed reluctant to hand it back. “If you come in tomorrow, I’ll have time to confer with my coin guy. Might be able to do ya better then.”

  As soon as the precious gold touched Nathan’s hand, he shoved it into his front jean pocket. Out the door he sailed and straight to his favorite bar.

  # # #

  Val recognized the pain in her lower abdomen. Most women weren’t aware of their bodies the way she was. She might be the mother of an only child, but she’d given birth twice.

  The first time had been a little scary, but mostly joyous. Her little chipmunk. The second time had knocked her down and she’d never seen it coming. Once you’ve been through nine months of pregnancy, labored and delivered with flying colors, it seemed almost routine. She’d had cravings for chocolate covered bananas, chatted about her due date with other women while standing in line at the grocery store, and had casually discussed baby names with her spouse. Nothing was quite as urgent the second time around. They would use the same crib, high chair and baby clothes. All they had to buy were diapers. She worried less about her weight gain and less about all of the scary genetic diseases s
he’d read about in books. But she’d be sorry.

  Her baby had been born way too early and didn’t live to see the sunrise.

  The tragedy compounded a marriage already on the rocks. Her husband was an artist who couldn’t make a living off his work. And he didn’t want to make a living any other way. With a toddler waiting for her at home, she didn’t have much time to grieve. Instead, she and her partner lashed out, blaming each other for their disappointment. They divorced within the year.

  She checked her reflection in the design studio’s bathroom mirror. She seemed especially pale compared to her black locks. Toying with her bangs, she caught a glimpse of the pink strands. Maybe it was time to go natural and quit pretending. If only she remembered what that looked like.

  Her hand rubbed the soft flesh beneath her belly button. She knew this feeling. Her body was ovulating. Ready to get pregnant. But was she?

  ###

  Nathan wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Long enough to drink himself better. He noticed a flash of light when someone entered the bar. Turning to see who it was, he couldn’t help but smile. It was Mia.

  Instead of wearing her usual khaki pants, she wore a short denim skirt, which showed off her curvy legs. Her body jiggled in all the right places as she approached and hopped up on the barstool next to him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Of all the bars in all the world, you had to walk into mine.” He tried to quote “Casablanca”, but wasn’t sure he’d nailed it. It didn’t seem to matter because she grinned, showing off her perfectly straight, yet tiny teeth. Everything about her was dainty and feminine. And youthful. Her face didn’t have a line on it.

  She reached into the little black purse slung over her shoulder and retrieved something. “Here.” The silver harmonica.

  “Shouldn’t you give it back to the kid who lost it?”

  She laughed and lightly touched her curly hair. “I did. This one is for you.”

  He took it from her and slid up the notes quickly to try it out. A few guys turned their heads to see where the sound came from, but soon focused back on their own conversations or the basketball game on the overhead TV.