On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3)

by Karen Lenfestey

  He felt his head wobble a little to the side. “You shouldn’t have. What’s the occasion?” Was it a holiday?

  “It’s just a gift. To thank you for being you.”

  Okay, that sounded a little corny, even coming from a hot Marissa Tomei look-alike. He caught a glimpse of her cleavage thanks to her low-scooped shirt. The little heart tattoo revealed itself, too. Time to turn on the charm. “So how can I thank you for being you?”

  She touched her hair again. It was so damn cute. “No need to reciprocate.”

  “Reciprocate.” The word sounded unusually long and complicated. “Re-cip-ro-cate.” He laughed to himself. “Why are you so formal? I’m not your patient here.” He dared to brush his fingers against her forearm. Her smile encouraged him. “We’re just two friends getting a drink.” He turned toward the bartender. “The lady needs a drink.” He searched his memory for what she’d ordered last time. A fuzzy navel? A screwdriver? He thought it had juice in it, but it could’ve been a Bloody Mary. Some kind of froo-froo girlie drink. He was pretty sure of that, anyway. “She’ll have a Bloody Mary.”

  She shook her head. “I hate those. How about just a beer?”

  He slung his arm around her shoulder. “A girl after my own heart.” She didn’t seem to mind his flirting, so he kept his arm in place. “Tell me about your day.” Girls loved to talk about themselves. He couldn’t go wrong with this line.

  She shrugged. “My boyfriend came by--I mean, my ex-boyfriend came by to pick up his clothes and stuff. He even brought a woman with him. Can you believe that?”

  “It didn’t take him long to find someone new. Unless. . . .”

  Her head tilted to the side. “Unless what?”

  He pulled away. “Nothing.” He took a drink. Why make her feel worse?

  She shook his arm. “Tell me. What?”

  They playfully argued back and forth for a couple of minutes, her hand gently touching his arm then knee as she leaned in for emphasis. Could she be coming on to him? This was like a fantasy. He took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt her. “Unless he was already dating her while he was still with you.”

  Her smile faded. “Yeah. She’s probably the one he meant to text when he sent it to me.” She fisted her hand and banged it against the side of her head. “I am so stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  He reached up and stopped her fist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He’s the jerk. There’s nothing wrong with you at all.”

  Looking at him, she licked her lower lip. “Trust me. There’s plenty wrong with me. That’s why guys never stay.”

  Even though he didn’t want to, he released her wrist. “That’s the difference between men and women. If a man gets cheated on, he blames the woman. If a woman gets cheated on, she blames herself.”

  She bobbed her head in agreement and took a sip of her beer. “You’re right. He’s the one with a problem, not me.” She drank some more. “Of course, I have to admit, I have terrible taste in men.”

  He couldn’t resist the bait. “How so?” This conversation could prove insightful.

  “I always choose men who are emotionally unavailable. I like the kind that drive motorcycles without helmets, spend Christmas alone, get tattoos. . . .” Their eyes met and they both grinned.

  Doubt had left him. She felt the chemistry, too. He glanced at the heart-shaped ink near her collar bone. Before he realized it, he leaned in and kissed her neck. He planted kiss after kiss upwards until their lips met. Wow! The world fell away as they made out.

  She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue. His hands roamed up and down her back. He wanted more. So much more.

  He hated to pull away, so waited until she did. They both panted, trying to catch their breath. Her lipstick had faded and he liked that he was to blame. He pressed his mouth against hers again. He pushed her back against the bar so that he was dominating her.

  God, this was so hot. He had forgotten how great it was to French kiss a woman for the first time. It was so primal.

  He heard knuckles rapping on the bar. He stopped kissing Mia and turned to see the bartender giving him an annoyed look. “Hey, either order another drink or get a room.”

  Nathan noticed their bottles were empty. He faced Mia who looked a bit flustered, but in a good way. “You want to get out of here?”

  “Yeah.” She stood up and reached for her purse.

  He put his hand over hers. “My treat.” He pulled out his wallet and paid the bill with the only credit card that wasn’t at its limit. He kept it just for emergencies. He shook away the thought, clasped her tiny hand and led her out of the bar.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “I’m not sure why you wanted to see me without Nathan,” Val told the perky counselor. Blond Barbara had suggested they do individual sessions as well as joint ones. Val had intended to blow off the appointment, but at the last minute, she figured it couldn’t hurt.

  Barbara clicked the pen in her hand. “Sometimes couples end up recreating the patterns they witnessed in their own parents’ marriages. It helps to work things out individually then come together.”

  She shrugged. “My parents are happily married. Have been for forty-some years.”

  “Tell me about what it was like growing up.”

  Leaning back against the chair, Val decided it couldn’t hurt to open up a little. “It was stifling. My parents are conservative, religious people and I was this wild child. I’ve always rushed into things without thinking. In my twenties, I hitchhiked to New York when they wanted me to go to college. Unfortunately, I fell for an artist and rushed into marriage. What’s funny is I’ve always been in a hurry, but in the end, I feel like I’m behind.”

  “You rush ahead but feel behind,” Barbara repeated.

  “Right. I’m in my thirties and I’m a newlywed. I should have everything figured out by now, but instead. . . .”

  Barbara’s eyes focused on the notepad in her lap as she nodded. “Sounds like you and your parents didn’t get along. Did they argue about you?”

  “They never argued. There aren’t any deep, dark secrets from my childhood that are ruining my current marriage.”

  “That’s interesting. You said they never argued. That doesn’t seem healthy. And you also used the word ‘ruin’ when describing your relationship with Nate.”

  Fidgeting, Val scratched her nose and tossed her leg over her opposite leg. “His name is Nathan. I don’t know who Nate is. And I’m really not sure I want to have a child with him.”

  At that revelation, Barbara scribbled something on a notepad. “Are you pregnant?”

  Her hand automatically pressed on her abdomen. It had been aching off and on all day. “No, but I had been hoping to have more children. We bought that house with all of those bedrooms so that we could raise a big family.”

  Barbara nodded slowly as if she were thinking. “This is the house that needs renovating.”

  “Yes. I didn’t think we’d be able to fix the roof, but Nathan came up with the money. Thank God, Rod loaned him some money.” Val made a mental note that she needed to figure out a way to show Rod how grateful she was. “But our bank accounts are almost empty. We still need to refinish the floors and buy some more furniture. I guess that can wait. Either way, I’m not sure we can afford to add a baby to the household. Then again I’m running out of time if I do want to have more.” She’d just turned thirty-three.

  “Let’s talk more about that. A baby.”

  Sadness washed over Val and she bit her lip to stop from crying. “I had another baby. After Chip. But he died.” She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “Then my husband left me just when I needed him most.”

  Barbara reached for a box of tissues and handed them to Val. She made some kind of encouraging sound with her throat.

  Val pulled a tissue loose and wiped her eyes. “I don’t know if I want to risk it again. Risk bonding with another baby that might not survive. Risk my husband not being there for me again.” She swall
owed. She’d never talked about any of this before and it overwhelmed her.

  “Relationships are always a risk. You love and you risk not being loved back.”

  “It’s not supposed to be that way with Nathan. He was always Mr. Dependable. He might not have been adventurous and outgoing, like my ex, but that’s what I liked about him. He was content watching a DVD and cooking dinner with me and Chip. He was ready for parenthood. Maybe he didn’t quite know how to be a dad, but he wanted to learn. You know?” She dabbed at the corner of her eye.

  Barbara nodded. That’s pretty much all counselors did, apparently. Start the waterworks and nod away.

  Val looked at the picture on Barbara’s desk. It was a picture of a black Lab. “Do you have kids?”

  “No.”

  “Are you even married?”

  Barbara hesitated. “No.”

  Val sucked in her breath and let it out loudly. “Then how can you counsel me on whether I should stay with my husband or not?”

  Barbara adjusted her position in her chair. First she glanced at her notes, then made eye contact. “I’ve been trained on how to help people work through things. It sounds as if you’re considering a divorce.”

  Silence filled the room. Val uncrossed and crossed her legs on the other side. “Maybe. I don’t want to, though.”

  “You’re thinking about divorce, but you don’t want one.”

  Val nodded. Thoughts raced through her mind. Why did she want to stay with Nathan despite his mood swings? Because she loved him. Parts of him anyway. Because Chip deserved a family. Because she didn’t want to be a two-time loser. Her mom would just die if Val announced a divorce only months after the wedding. “Do the couples you see usually stay together or split?”

  Barbara looked up as if searching the files inside her head. “I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty. What matters isn’t what other couples do. It’s what you want to do. What would it take for you to make up your mind that this marriage is going to succeed?”

  Val played with her manicure. “That’s a good question.”

  “Because that’s what it comes down to. I can give you two the tools to resolve your conflicts, which is something it sounds like you need, but you need to choose to soldier on when times get tough. If you’re always looking for a reason to leave, you’ll find one. The marriages that last are the ones where each one stays through the rough patches and keeps trying to make things better.”

  Did this chick actually know what she was talking about? “I want this to work.” A weight lifted from Val’s shoulders. She glanced at the clock and saw the session was about to end. She stood. “Thanks for helping me figure that out.”

  # # #

  Nathan and Mia kissed just outside of the bar, in the shadows not illuminated by the corner streetlight. He moved his hands all over her body. If she’d let him, he’d slip one hand underneath her shirt. Which she did. He felt her bra and envisioned black lace. Instinct told him to find the clasp and unhook it. But not here.

  When two guys walked by and went into the bar, Nathan pulled his body away from Mia’s.

  She adjusted her shirt and looked at him with hungry, brown eyes. “Want to come back to my place?”

  God, did he! Just then a Honda Accord parked across the street. He watched as a mother, father, and two boys climbed out and headed for a Chinese restaurant. Family dinner.

  Even through the blur of alcohol, he knew he should stop this. “What time is it?” They both glanced at their watches. His--a cheap Timex and hers--a gold bracelet-style. Seven o’clock. His heartbeat slowed to a solid march inside his ribs. Val was off work by now. She’d pick up Chip at daycare and bring him home for dinner. They’d be worried if Nathan wasn’t there.

  He plunged his fingers through his hair. “Listen, Mia.”

  She stepped back. “Are you kidding me? We haven’t even done anything and you’re breaking up with me?”

  Swallowing, he eased himself toward her. He wanted to press his lips against hers again. He’d kill to know if he’d been right about the color of her bra. But he couldn’t. He picked up her hands in his and held them. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Please don’t hate me. But I’ve got to go.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I get it.” Her hands slithered out of his grip. “I’m a big girl.”

  His mouth hung slightly open, but words didn’t come out. He leaned in and forced his lips against hers. She didn’t fight back and he knew he could have her if he wanted.

  At that thought, he broke their connection. He pivoted on his heel and headed home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Val couldn’t help believing the diary held the answer to why the ghost lingered in the house. Now that the leak above the four-poster bed had been repaired, she stretched out on her comforter and read the diary. So far, she’d learned that the woman who’d lived there, Helen, was consumed by grief after her baby died. Stillborn. Val shuddered at the similarities to her own history. After baby Rose was buried, Helen allowed the servants to care for her other three children while she sat crying or staring out the window. Val could picture the woman’s rocking chair on the raised landing across the room, with the apple tree below.

  After a few months of mourning, Helen’s husband bought her a Steinway. Val figured that must be the old, black piano in the living room. Probably since it was so heavy, every owner had left it with the house when they moved out. Helen wrote in the diary that it was expensive and at first she told her husband she wasn’t worth it. He insisted that it was a gift for her and someday the children would learn to play as well. Helen agreed when he added the part about their children. Soon she discovered that moving her fingers across the keyboard comforted her. Scales, then Beethoven and Bach soothed her. She left her room more and more every day in order to play music for herself and eventually to teach the children.

  Val traced her fingers on the final sentences: I am fortunate to have a husband that stood by me during my illness, although it was more mental than physical. I am indebted to him for helping me find happiness again.

  That must be what the spirit was trying to tell Val. That a good spouse stays even when the other is weak or injured. If she waited long enough, Nathan would return to his old self just as Helen had.

  Nathan entered the room just then. “Hi, babe. Whatcha reading?”

  Blushing, she closed the diary and tucked it in the drawer of her nightstand. “Nothing.” As far as Nathan knew, she found ghost stories entertaining the way some people enjoyed sci-fi. He had no idea she believed in their existence.

  The door closed behind him and he turned the lock. “Chip’s finally asleep. And you look beautiful tonight.”

  She leaned up against the headboard to study him. “You’ve been flirting with me all evening.” In fact, he’d bumped into her in the kitchen while they got out the silverware to eat the Chinese take-out he’d been so considerate to bring home for dinner. Each bump included a caress of her back, her hip, her behind. He even dared to nibble on her ear when Chip was in the room.

  Now he sauntered over to her. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “That’s because I’ve been dying to get you alone.” His kisses trailed up her arm and to the special spot at the nape of her neck. Her nerve endings tingled.

  She felt his tongue flick in the soft area between her collarbones and she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him. It had been a while since they’d been intimate and she missed it. Not counting his days in the hospital, this was the longest gap since they’d started sleeping together. They hadn’t had sex since he threw the butter knife. Her senses turned cold.

  He unbuttoned her top button and kissed the exposed skin. Then another button followed with a kiss. The third button and she felt his mouth between her breasts. Her body grew warm. Desperate, she tugged his T-shirt over his head.

  Something dark on his arm caught her eye. “What’s that?” She touched his bicep.

  He smiled. “I got a tattoo. Do you like it?”<
br />
  Her fingers traced the scorpion inked in black over his muscle. “I guess so. I’m surprised, though.” A scorpion didn’t seem like him. Not that she had any idea what tattoo did fit Nathan’s personality. “When did you get it?”

  He pulled away from her and sat upright. “My first week back at the shop. To celebrate.” His demeanor shifted, almost as if he were ready for a fight.

  “You’ve been celebrating a lot. Tattoos, drinks with the guys after work.”

  “I’m entitled to a little fun, aren’t I?”

  The counselor had mentioned that Nathan needed to unwind after going to so many doctors’ appointments. “Of course. I’m not judging you. I have a tattoo myself, remember?” She’d been younger and more impulsive then. After seeing the way her skin stretched during pregnancy, she wasn’t so sure she’d get one again.

  “Now where was that?” Rather than finishing his slow descent down her torso, he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. He pulled them open to expose the pink and purple butterfly on her hip.

  She giggled as he worked his warm lips over the spot. She needed him. They needed each other.

  ###

  Nathan figured it didn’t matter where he got his appetite, as long as he came home for dinner. Last night proved it. He thought Val’s moans were going to wake the neighbors. Afterward, she stroked his scorpion tattoo and said that she thought it was sexy. For the first time in a while, she gave him a good-bye kiss before she left for work this morning.

  Sober now, he sat in bed and looked at Rod’s coin. He knew he couldn’t sell it. He wasn’t a thief. Just like he wasn’t an alcoholic. He was simply a man trying to put a roof over his family’s head. Who knew roofs were so damn expensive?

  He put the coin on his night stand and pulled on a pair of jeans. The coin seemed to be staring at him. He couldn’t leave it out or Val might ask about it. So, he stuck it in his front pocket.