“The point is, someone forced his or her way in, and all because of your stupid ‘lock’ on the front. That thing is like a damn padlock I can break with my nail. I’m sure it didn’t take much.”
I don’t doubt what she says is true, but now isn’t the time to mention the broken window is more than likely how the thief gained entry. “I’m sorry, Janice. My boss said whoever broke in was probably on the hunt for scrap metal. People target houses like this. I’m just glad you weren’t here.”
“Me, too.” She grabs a hold of her hair and her face tightens. “You need to sell this house as fast as you can. If that means dropping the price, fine, I don’t care. I’m not even filing anything with the insurance company because I can’t deal with paying a deductible or anything. I’m not putting any money into my dad’s house. Just … “
“I can drop the price?” I pinch my arm. Nope. This is happening and may very well be the most exciting part of my day. At the right price point, I can get rid of this hellhole and move onto the next one.
“If that’s what you think is best, fine. Just take it off my hands. Please.”
I can’t believe she’s begging me. I’m slightly satisfied with the turn of events. The house being broken into may prove to be good. There was no way I was getting near what she wants. I need a top notch plan, though. I don’t want to list it dirt cheap, but I must be realistic as well. “Thanks, Janice. With your permission, I’ll go ahead and make the necessary adjustments.”
“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get the hell out of here.”
She takes off so fast I can’t even say goodbye, and I’m left in a pile of dust on the floor.
Chapter
Sixteen
The night never seemed so dark. At eight o’clock the sun is only beginning to go down, but the cloudy skies dim the evening sooner. Fresh off the win, I’m so glad to be celebrating with my dad.
I tell him to go ahead. I’ll meet him in a minute. He can wait in the car and as soon as I gather my things, I’ll treat him to ice cream. It’s not every day he wins a big tournament with this much money. I wonder if he’ll call it quits with these winnings. He can find a recreational league to fill in his time. He enjoys himself, but after each game he needs a good fifteen minutes to recoup and catch his breath. These days he’s moving slower as well. He still can toss the ball like no one’s business, but I’m afraid soon he’ll strain himself.
Once my purse is around my arm, I wave goodbye to the owner, Dale, and step outside. The lot is practically empty already. After the game, many of the players headed home right away. I guess when you’re part of a senior league you just want to get home and in bed.
I’m parked at the far end. Why didn’t I park under a lamp post? A strong blast of air comes out of nowhere and blows my hair over my eyes. I shiver, slightly spooked. Once the wind dies down, I push my loose strands back and pick up my pace. My car is in sight, dark as the night is turning. Why doesn’t he have the dome light on? Is he sitting in the dark? Something isn’t right. I increase my stride, tightening my grip on my strap as I break into a run. I reach my vehicle and open my door. “Dad!”
There he is in the passenger seat, blood pouring from his chest. “Dad!” I scream. “Help! Help!” I turn to an empty parking lot. Who would do this? “Dad! Stay with me.” I fumble through my bag with shaking hands as I grab my cell phone and dial 9-1-1. “Dad, Dad. Please, stay with me.”
My eyes shoot open, my heart racing, and sweat pouring from me. Another nightmare. I’m not holding my father, watching him bleed out from the stab wounds. I’m not watching him die right in front of me. I’m not watching my life fall apart. I’m at home, on my couch, my sweaty shirt clinging to my body and my heart pounding out of my chest. I let out a deep breath in relief I’m not really reliving this moment. Deep breaths, Kate. Deep breaths. I manage to find a comfortable pace with my breathing, but I know what I need to do in order to fully calm down.
I change my clothes before gathering my materials. Then I pull the colored pencils out of the package one by one, setting them in a straight line across the table, forming a rainbow scheme next to my coloring book. I flip through the images slowly, observing each page, finding the one that fits where I want to lead my mood. A picture of a dove soaring through the air above a large wheat field catches my attention. This will do. The bird represents hope, something I’m full of a lot of lately. I’m hopeful I can sell Janice’s house. I’m hopeful this incident won’t reflect poorly on me. I’m hopeful we’ll win the bowling tournament. I’m hopeful Kellan and I will be good friends. And I’m most hopeful these nightmares will stop.
My therapist assures me this is an effective and safe escape. As an adult, coloring first seemed a little childish to me, but as I got into it, I learned to love the peace it brings. When I’m feeling helpless or under a severe amount of stress, I’m supposed to go to a quiet place and color. I’m quite good at it. Just a while ago I didn’t even care to stay in the lines. Coloring was the one place I didn’t mind being messy. Now I take my time, rounding each corner carefully, not letting one swift line escape. My thoughts drift off and I remember being a child, lying on the floor, my book open with a box of crayons beside me. I’m … free.
Today I start with the wheat. I take the dull yellow pencil and lightly brush between the black lines, allowing myself to run off the edges slightly, but stay within the main drawing. Already the color pops off the page and I’m more relaxed. That was a doozy of a nightmare. I don’t recall such a vivid once since my father’s funeral. I finish up with the yellow and shade in a bit of brown. Pressing my hands on the creases, I try and open the spine more. I smile at the picture. Fields of wheat covered many places in the the town where I used to live.
Dad often took me for walks after we went fishing and I searched for whatever treasures I could find in the fields. The open space, though wrapped in grain, freed me. The birds frightened me for a long time. They flew full force and swooped down, saving themselves from crashing into the ground at the very last minute. Once I realized that’s what we all do, I started to respect them. Some aren’t so lucky and shatter, leaving others to pick up the pieces. Not these doves. To me, they represent a strength I never knew I had until forced to deal with my father’s death. I brush the white across the dove, admiring the wingspan and beauty of the bird, and all it taught me.
The ding of my intercom startles me out of my concentration. My pencil almost scratches from one side to the other, ruining the entire thing, but I control my hand enough so I don’t. I’m grateful because when I mess up these pictures, I tend to get a little upset. This is my happy place. I wonder who’s interrupting it.
I leave my things at the table and press the button. “Who’s there?” I’m not expecting anyone and am enjoying my quiet afternoon off. After the break in situation with Janice this morning, I needed the time to recoup.
“Kellan. Can I come up?”
Kellan? What is he doing here? I hesitate before buzzing him in. I dart my head around and quickly race to the bathroom. I put a brush through my hair and slap some water on my toothbrush and slide it across my teeth. I don’t have time to clean up my coloring stuff because he’s already knocking on my door.
I straighten my shirt and exhale as I open the door. “What a surprise!”
He’s standing at my doorstep wearing a suit. A full-fledged, honest-to-God suit and he looks yummy. I only ever see him on TV like this. Never in person. I like it. A lot. I thought he was so hot before, and now I’m struggling to maintain my composure.
“Hey. Can I come in?”
“Oh, sure.” I pull the door open more and step out of his way. He takes his jacket off and puts it over his arm. I don’t hesitate to check out his ass as he walks past me, and it’s tight.
“How’s your disposal working?”
I catch another glance before he turns around. “Good. No problems. Thanks again for fixing that. I owe you big time.” We stare at each other an
d I’m wondering if this is all he came over for. “Can I interest you in some tea?”
“No, but thank you for the offer. I’m actually on my way to the station.”
I check my clock. “It’s only two.” What kind of a person starts work at a weird hour such as this?
“Well, most of us work at least an eight hour day. Believe it or not, my job has more substance other than looking pretty on TV.” He puts his hands under his chin and winks.
I’m so spoiled that I don’t have to go to the office every day. But I do have to be available whenever a client needs me. “Well,” I walk to the window and pull back the curtain. “I’m guessing rain.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Watch me at six to find out.”
“Or just look out my window.” I shut the shades and smirk. He furrows his brow at me. I’m hitting quite the nerve. “I’m sorry, Kellan. It’s just so easy.”
“Is it? Or perhaps you’re just not clever.” He clicks his tongue. “What’s going on in here?”
Crap. My coloring books. I wonder what he’ll think of me — a grown woman with these items. “I was … coloring.” He can plainly see what’s going on.
“Interesting. I’ve heard of this before.”
“Coloring? Yeah, it’s been around for years.”
He points his fingers like guns at me. “There you go!” I photograph his smile with my brain. I’ll file that for later. “I mean adult coloring. This is the craze now, isn’t it?”
“It’s therapy.”
He darts his head at me with concern.
“I mean therapeutic.” My past in therapy isn’t anything I openly discuss. I stopped going once I moved here, and this exercise helps me in times I would otherwise go see my therapist. “The colors calm me and I like the focus. I probably do it two or three times a week.”
He starts flipping through the pages of my book. My heart hammers in my chest as I pick at my nails, anticipating his reaction. I want to share this with him, but at the same time this feels too intimate to let him inside. “Anyway, did you come just to ask about the garbage disposal?”
“Oh, yeah. I suppose I did.” He turns to head out the door. “So, when are you going out with Ned?”
Are we still having this conversation from the other night? “In a few weeks. Why?”
“No reason. Just making small talk, that’s all.”
“We’re not getting married or anything. You know, like you are.” I cross my arms as his stare lingers. I’m sensing a bit of jealousy here and he’s the last person who should be jealous.
“Okay. Fair enough.” He shakes out of his trance. “Well, I’m going to get going. I’ll talk to you soon?”
The way he asks this piques my curiosity. He asks it in a way he’d be disappointed if he didn’t. Does he want to be sure we touch base again before the next game? Does he want to go out for a drink? Or compete on the Wii again? No. I’m sure that’s not it. “Definitely. I have a few houses to show you.” House-hunting and bowling, and sometimes plumber. That’s our relationship.
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”
He leaves, and as he walks out the door, I want nothing more than to pull him back. But I can’t. I’m soaring through the sky, plunging toward the ground, and if I don’t stop falling …
I need to set him free.
••••••••••
Five-thirty rolls around and my stomach is grumbling. I’m not in the mood to cook. After Kellan left I dozed some more on the couch. The week wore me down. This time I slept with no nightmares. I don’t even recall what I dreamed about. All I do know is I’m craving Chinese. Twenty minutes later, I’m in front of the TV with crab rangoon and beef chop suey.
Television is something I don’t spend a lot of time on like others. There isn’t a show I tune into religiously or a channel I play in the background daily. I flip through the stations and recognize them, but none catch my attention longer than a few minutes. I used to love the house hunter and do-it-yourself shows, but with my job, I can’t stand them anymore. I always yell at the people on screen more than I watch the show. We’re not a good combination.
I stop on Channel 13. It’s 6:10 so I don’t think I missed Kellan’s segment. I zone out as the anchors go over the most recent news. An awkward chemistry bounces between the two. One minute they seem to genuinely like each other and the next one is almost rolling eyes at the other. I admire those who have the courage to be on live TV. I’d fumble my words and probably end up having to scratch my nose and land my finger in it instead.
The female anchor advises the weather is up next with Kellan Valentine. When she says his name, my heart leaps into my throat for a second and I find I’m nervous for him. I’m unsure why. He does this every day. This is a breeze for him. I’m anxious to see him on screen again, though. Yes, I keep quite a couple newscasts on my DVR so I can glance at him guilt-free from time to time.
After the commercial break, the anchor leads into Kellan, and he greets the audience with a beaming smile. His hair is slightly different from when I saw him just hours ago. He must have fixed it up when he got to the studio. If I’m not mistaken, I think he may be have on a dash of makeup, too. I’m not huge on wearing any myself. When I present an open house or a showing I use a little, otherwise, I toss on eyeliner and mascara, and that’s about I can handle.
Kellan commands the screen, pointing at the map of Wisconsin and strongly voicing his forecast for everyone. He’s so adorable. Man, my crush on him is obvious, and he’s totally off-limits. I snatch up my phone and snap a picture of him on the TV, with me smiling and giving him a thumbs up. I attach the shot to a text and add “Today’s forecast includes a photobomb by Kate.” I double-check Kellan’s contact info and hit send.
As he’s signing off, he jumps slightly. Ha! His cell is in his pocket! I laugh that I interrupted the segment, and love he didn’t even budge. He disappears off screen and I take another bite of my food.
My phone rings and I quickly grab it. Kellan. Before I answer I wipe my hands on my jeans and clear my throat, a smile superglued to my face.
“Hey! I was watching you!” I say as I pick up.
“I see that. Very cute. What were you eating?”
“Huh?” How could he tell I was eating anything? I touch my face. There’s nothing there. “Hold on.” I click to my pictures. There in my teeth is a huge piece of broccoli. “Lovely. I guess next time I’ll preview before I press the send button.”
Way to make an impression on him. I’m not surprised I made a fool of myself, though. Story of my life. Not like it matters, anyway.
“So, what was it?”
He really needs to know? “Chinese.” With a side of humiliation. Tonight’s special.
“Sounds good. I’m not done here for a few hours yet. Chinese food would hit the spot.”
Darn. My stupid stomach. Leave it to my hunger pains to ruin my chances of seeing him again tonight. “Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he says to me. “I’ll order some into the station.”
I want to offer to bring him some, but I’m not his girlfriend, and that’s something a significant other does. I contemplate surprising him, but decide that may be an even worse option.
“I better hang up. My final wrap up is in ten minutes.”
I don’t want to say goodbye. I’m tempted to invite him over. I can save some of my food and he can eat when he gets here. No. I can’t. That’s not right to do. Even if we are just friends, I should respect Macy. I doubt she would appreciate it if he had dinner with me. This relationship needs to be as platonic as possible. Hopefully my date with Ned will get rid of this school girl crush.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening at work. I’ll call you tomorrow about the houses I want to show you.”
“Great. I can’t wait.”
The problem is, I can’t either.
Chapter
Seventeen
I meet Kellan two weeks later in a tiny suburb just out
of Madison. It makes for a slightly longer drive, but you can’t beat the quiet and the acreage. Kids run through the yards and school buses busy the streets, not city transit. Out here is a whole different ballgame.
“I realize this isn’t your ideal location, but I think you will be surprised with what’s out here.” I open the door to the four bedroom, three bath home and we step into a large entryway so massive I need a moment to catch my breath.
“Wow. This is definitely something.” He scratches his head. “And it’s in my price range?”
“Yep.” I pull out the flyer and hand the spec sheet to him. “Near the top, but not over.” I move past him and twirl as I point to the three different directions we can go in the house. “Where do you want to start?”
“Well, first let me call Macy.” He takes his iPad and brings up Face Time. This is unorthodox, but the sellers agreed to allow it. When photographing or video, the owners of the house must pre-approve the action. Kellan wanted to be able to show her the prospective houses while she is out of town visiting family, and this is the earliest I could convince the homeowners to agree to the request.
“Macy! I’m here with Kate.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to meeting her.” He waves me over so I’m in Macy’s view. “Hi, Kate.”
Staring back at me in the tablet is a pretty woman and the complete opposite of what I imagined. She’s probably in her early thirties, not a wrinkle or sag in her face. She wears her brown hair in a bob, and her cat-like eyes are accented with dark liner and a purple toned shadow. Her lips look as though she just reapplied lipstick. I expected Cameron Diaz and got Katie Holmes. Both gorgeous, still, and a level of beauty I can’t compete with. “I’m glad to finally meet you.” I rub my throat like doing so will mask the crack my voice made. Why am I so nervous?
“You’re not bringing down the team, are you? You’re helping win the games, I hope.”
Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) Page 9
