So why had they stayed together? Habit? Expectation? Maybe they’d both been stuck. Maybe they’d both been overwhelmed by it all. But weeks from getting married hadn’t seemed like the time to discuss the problems in their relationship. A stupid decision, she thought now, but one she’d believed in at the time. Then disaster had struck and she’d been hanging on by a thread and then she’d tried to go back to her old life and she hadn’t felt right there either and now here she was. Working part-time in a coffee kiosk and going to college for a degree she was pretty sure she didn’t want.
“I’m a mess,” she whispered, opening her eyes. “A complete and total mess.” Information that was interesting but not particularly helpful. If she wasn’t going to be a doctor then why was she studying biology? And if she didn’t want a different degree, then shouldn’t she get off her ass and use the one she had?
She only had questions and not a single answer. There was nowhere to go, no one to talk to. She was completely and totally alone and the sucky part was, she had only herself to blame.
chapter twenty-five
Malcolm waited until Sunday afternoon to seek out Keira. Since the outburst the previous night, she’d kept to her room. Carmen had said she’d been down early for breakfast, but then had retreated upstairs. Malcolm wasn’t sure if she needed the alone time or if she was scared to face the rest of the family.
A little after three he knocked on her door. There was a second of silence before he heard the soft, “Come in.”
He found Keira on the floor by her bed. There were no books around, no TV on, no music playing. Just her, Lizzy and a feather cat toy.
When Keira looked up at him, he saw shadows under her eyes. She was pale and her mouth trembled. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling, but her sadness and remorse were so clearly visible, he couldn’t think of anything to say and he had no idea what to do.
He was incredibly bad at this, he thought grimly. And the last man on the planet who should ever have a family. He swore silently before telling himself any action was better than simply standing and staring at her.
He dropped next to her on the rug and put his arm around her. Keira startled him by throwing herself at him and bursting into tears.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, hanging on with more strength than he would have imagined. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
He picked her up and set her on his lap, then eased her head onto his shoulder. She hung on as if she would never let go and he did the same. After a few minutes, when the tears had lessened and her breathing was more normal, he freed one hand and stroked her head.
“It’s our fault,” he told her. “We should have thought about the day more. A party like that is a big deal and it takes a lot of emotional energy. You’re still finding your way around here. We should have moved the family dinner to tonight, giving you a chance to recharge. It’s not you, Keira. Even good things can be too much.”
“Callie said that, too,” Keira admitted with a sniff. “She apologized, just like you.”
The tears began again and he had no idea why. He wished Callie was here instead of him. He wished his mother had lived longer because she was the best person he’d ever known. He wished his father hadn’t been such an asshole because that would have helped. His father who had never once bothered to even sit down and talk to his own son.
“I’m really bad at this,” he admitted. “I’m sorry about that, too.”
She raised her head and sniffed. “You mean being a brother?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not bad at it. Just, you know, inexperienced.” She shifted off his lap onto the floor and brushed the tears from her face. “You should practice more.”
“Yes, I should.” He leaned toward her. “Keira, I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want you to be happy and feel safe and excited about your life.”
She glanced down, then back at him. “I do sometimes. Not feel scared, I mean. And the other stuff. I’m getting better.”
“You don’t need to get better. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“But I’m in therapy.”
“So you have someone to talk to who is safe for you. So you can learn coping skills you might have missed out on because of all you’ve been through.” He struggled to find the right analogy. “It’s like painting a couple of walls in the house rather than tearing the whole thing down and starting over.”
She tilted her head. “Am I the paint or the wall or the house?”
“You’re the house and the therapy is the paint and okay, maybe it wasn’t the best way to explain what I meant, but I hope you—”
She flung herself at him again. He held on to her because he didn’t have anything else. Hopefully it was enough.
When she released him and sat back down, she drew in a breath.
“I really am sorry about yesterday. The sleeping bag was a really nice idea.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with it. Do you want to try the family dinner again? There are more presents to open and I’m sure Carmen would be happy to fix something special for dinner. All the while telling me that she could have done that in the first place, but no, I had to go hire a caterer and if that ever happens again, she is going to be very angry with me.”
Keira giggled. “She would probably slap you.”
“She’d try and I’d have to let her, which I would not like. So do-over?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.” Her expression shifted from happy to stricken. “Did you guys eat my cake?”
“No one touched your cake. It’s still there, in all its glory.”
“Whew, because that would have been horrible.” She scrambled to her feet. “Come on, Malcolm. We have to go tell everybody there’s going to be a party tonight!”
* * *
Delaney spent the next week avoiding both her life and the people in it. She went through the motions, showing up to her job, going to class, texting with Malcolm. She’d put him off for a couple of days only to realize she missed him desperately. She’d invited him over for basically a booty call and he’d obliged with great enthusiasm. What was there not to like? But by the weekend, she’d figured out that avoiding wasn’t going to fix the problem. Not that she’d defined the problem exactly but it was on her to-do list, right there at the top.
At eleven on Saturday morning, Callie arrived for their shopping adventure. She’d begged for help finding a dress for the upcoming charity gala.
“I come bearing addresses of consignment stores,” Callie said as she walked into the condo. “I am not paying retail for a dress I’m going to wear once in my life.”
Callie’s natural energy and upbeat personality lifted Delaney’s spirits. She laughed for the first time in what felt like ages.
“You do realize that you’re kind of an heiress, right?”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I work on a factory line pouring tablespoons of secret spice mix into plastic bags, then sealing them.”
“You’re the one who wanted to work.”
“I know and it was the right decision. I would go crazy cooped up in that big house. I need to be out doing something.” She studied Delaney. “How are you feeling? Malcolm said you caught a bug.”
Which was what she’d told him when he’d asked about her spending so many evenings at home, Delaney thought, ignoring the guilt. She hadn’t been sick from anything but trying to figure out her life. Going to work and to class had taken every ounce of energy she had.
“I’m getting my strength back,” she lied. “Okay, the gala. Let me show you what kind of dress we’re going to be looking for, then we will start our consignment store bonanza.”
She led the way into the bedroom and walked to the larger of the two closets. As she reached for the door handle, she mentally braced hersel
f to step into her former existence. She flipped on the light and took a breath, then allowed herself to breathe in the happy sight of suits and shells and dresses and dozens of shoes.
“Holy crap.” Callie stared at the neatly arranged racks. “What is all this? You have a secret life I knew nothing about.”
“I used to be in corporate finance.”
“Like Santiago?” Callie groaned. “Everyone I know is so smart and successful. I know it should be inspiring, but it’s a little intimidating.”
“I work part-time as a barista and I’m taking two classes at college. I’m hardly an inspiration to anyone.”
“You’re wrong. You wanted to change your life and you did. That’s amazing.”
It was less amazing when you knew that she wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision, Delaney thought glumly.
“Dress,” she said pointedly. “Let’s look at those to give you some ideas. Although honestly all you have to do is flash a little something-something and you’ll do fine.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d offer to let you borrow one of mine, but you’re what, twenty pounds lighter, two inches shorter and yet you have bigger boobs. Why do I like you?”
Callie laughed. “Well, when you put it like that, I have to feel special.”
Delaney walked over to the dress section of the closet. “Okay, here’s one of my favorites. I wore this two years ago to the Seattle Humane Society’s Tuxes and Tails event.” She held up the St. John velvet cold shoulder gown.
Callie touched the fabric, then studied how the straps would drape across the upper arm. “That’s really lovely. So a long dress?”
“You’ll see all lengths, but most will be long. The guys have it easy. They only have to wear a tux.”
She got out a second dress that still had its tags. Deep green sequins covered the knit column style. The V-neck was flattering and the straps were wide enough that she could easily wear a regular bra.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Callie breathed. “Have you ever worn it before?”
Delaney waved the tags. “Not even once. I need like five kinds of shapewear to make it work, but maybe I’ll try it for the gala.”
“You should. With your red hair and green eyes, you’ll be stunning. Seriously. Okay—I sort of have an idea of what I’ll be looking for. I really appreciate you going with me. I would be nervous on my own. I’m still nervous about the whole evening, but I figure it will be a good life experience for me.”
“Don’t be nervous. You’ll do fine. Malcolm and I are at the same table and you’ll be with Santiago.”
Callie looked away. “Yes, that will be great.”
Delaney’s radar went on alert. “What’s wrong? Are you two fighting?”
“No! It’s fine. Everything is...” Callie put her hands on her hips. “Actually it’s not. I can’t figure him out. He acts like he’s crazy about me.”
“How is that bad?”
“It’s not. It’s wonderful except he won’t, I mean we haven’t...” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “We kiss. That’s it. Kissing. He doesn’t even try to take things further and I don’t get it. From everything he’s told me he was a total skank with women, so why not me?”
Delaney did her best to look serious even as she desperately wanted to laugh. “You’re mad because you’re not getting any?”
“It’s been nearly a decade. I think I’ve earned the right to be moody.”
“Oh, right. Good point. So ask him. Or rip off your shirt. Either way, he’ll figure it out.”
Callie sighed. “I’m not really the rip-my-shirt-off type. I guess I’ll have to talk to him and that totally sucks.” She brightened. “Maybe I can find a really slutty dress that will make me impossible to resist.”
“You absolutely will be.”
They drove to the first consignment store. Delaney scanned the layout, then headed directly to the back where the evening gowns were.
“Don’t worry about length,” she said as she began to flip through the dresses. “I know a great tailor who can work miracles in very little time.”
She checked sizes and pulled out several dresses, studying them before handing some to Callie and putting the others back. Ten minutes later, she ushered Callie into the dressing room with firm instructions to come out in every one.
“You’re not the decision-maker here,” Delaney informed her. “I’m the expert.”
“You’re kind of bossy.”
“Tell me about it.”
While Callie changed into the first dress, Delaney wandered the store. She was having fun, she thought in surprise. Her dark mood had lifted. Maybe she should have gotten out of the house sooner. She still didn’t have answers to her questions, but for now, that was okay.
Callie came out in a fairly traditional strapless black dress that hugged every curve.
“I feel like the top is going to fall down,” Callie said, tugging at the bodice. “I’d need a strapless bra, I guess. I don’t know.”
Delaney eyed her critically. “It’s okay, but not special. Next.”
“You’re just like Keira,” Callie told her. “You should have seen her when we went shopping. She made her decision in about two seconds and what I thought didn’t matter.”
Delaney grinned. “I knew I liked that girl.”
Callie tried on every dress Delaney had picked for her. There were a couple of maybes but not the one. They went to the second store and repeated the process. On the third dress, Delaney smiled at her friend.
“That’s it.”
The “it” was a strapless gown that was fitted to midthigh before flaring out slightly. The wrapped fabric hugged every curve, but the effect was softened by an overlay of mesh dotted with black flower petals. The fit was perfect and with the right shoes, the hem only had to come up a couple of inches.
Delaney circled her. “You’ll need a great strapless bra. I have the name of someone in the lingerie department at Nordstrom. She’ll get you fitted.”
Callie looked at herself in the mirror. “It’s not very sexy. I mean it’s not low cut or anything.”
“Trust me,” Delaney told her. “You are stunning. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. It’s not really me.”
Delaney had a feeling Callie wouldn’t be comfortable in any fancy dress. Given what she knew about her friend’s past, she doubted Callie had ever worn one before.
Callie looked at the tag and yelped. “Oh my God! This dress is six hundred dollars. That’s used.”
Delaney grinned. “Honey, it’s a Carmen Marc Valvo couture gown. It would have cost over three thousand new.”
“For a dress? One dress?”
“You want to look the part.”
“But for that I could go to a department store and buy something new.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “It is really pretty.”
“It is.”
“But six hundred dollars.”
“Are you going to faint? Do you need to breathe into a paper bag?”
“Very funny. All right. I’ll take it. But don’t tell anyone how much I spent.”
“I cross my heart.”
Callie smiled at her. “Thank you, Delaney. You’re so sweet to me. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re easy to be friends with.”
Callie returned to the dressing room. Delaney looked out the window as she waited and thought about the other friends she’d had—the ones she’d let slip away. She was still trying to figure out why. Guilt, maybe? Her payment for having what she wanted? She wasn’t sure if she had a clue, but what she did know was that she was desperately unhappy with how things were and she wanted to change. As it was her life, it was all up to her. But how, and more importantly, did she actually have the courage and strength to do it?
* * *
Santiago
didn’t like being nervous—it was an unfamiliar state of being and one he didn’t generally permit. But as he rode the elevator up to his place, Callie at his side, he had to admit, there was general unease going on.
It was her, he admitted if only to himself. Being around her always made him happy and he wanted things to work out. Maybe a little too much, which meant worrying they wouldn’t, which created a crazy cycle of wanting desperately to be with her, then being nervous when he was. Life had been a lot easier when he’d cared less about the women he was with. But this was a whole new ball game. This was Callie.
She laughed as the doors opened on his floor. “I think that’s the longest elevator ride I’ve ever taken.”
“We should go to the Space Needle. You take an elevator up to the observation deck where, if the weather’s good, you can see forever. This was only thirty-eight stories or about four hundred feet. The observation deck is at five hundred and twenty feet.”
“You are filled with unexpected information, aren’t you?”
“It’s a gift.”
He led the way to his front door, then opened it and let her go first.
He’d tidied up before he left. The cleaning service had been by that week, so every surface gleamed. He’d already prepped dinner. Appetizers were ready to go into the oven, the salad only needed dressing and his mother’s famous potato casserole would bake after he pulled the appetizers out. He was going to panfry the salmon, something he’d done dozens of times. It was an easy entrée he often made for himself and he hoped Callie would like it.
He waited in the foyer as she explored the condo’s open floor plan. The unit was on the corner, so he had a 180-degree view of Puget Sound. There was a beautiful sunset on the horizon, ferryboats heading to and from the dock, and a massive container ship heading out to sea. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment.
Callie looked around the big living room with its leather sectional and matching club chairs. The tables were all glass and chrome, the art bold, colorful abstracts. He’d left the integrated sound system on and jazz played in the background.
When We Found Home Page 30
