Good, Bad…Better

by Cindi Myers

  Theresa gave her a speculative look. “Sure. If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.”

  Theresa left them and the two friends hurried to the parking lot. But as Jen taught beginning ballet to a group of eager children that afternoon, she kept thinking of what Analese had said. Not that she put much stock in her friend’s woo-woo talk, but experience had shown her that not everything that happened in life was random. Was her finding an apartment in Theresa’s building just an odd coincidence? Or was it another sign that she and Zach were meant to be more than temporary lovers?

  THAT EVENING AFTER WORK, Jen returned to her parents’ home to pack. She was stuffing books into boxes when her dad appeared in the doorway of her room. “Your mother tells me you’ve rented an apartment,” he said.

  “I did.” Her excitement over moving had erased the pain of last night’s argument. Her excitement, and Zach’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe her father had been thinking of her when he’d “kicked her out.” She laid aside the last stack of books and went to hug him. “Thanks for having faith in me. I’ll be all right, I promise.”

  He looked unsure. “Maybe I’d better have a look at this place, just to be sure.”

  “It’s fine, really.” She wrapped paper around an art-glass paperweight her parents had given her for Christmas, and placed it in a box, then added the desk lamp, some pictures and a cup full of pens and pencils. “When I’m settled, I promise I’ll have you and Mom over for dinner.”

  He nodded. “Let me help you with these.” He picked up a box she’d already taped and a suitcase. She followed him down the stairs and out to her car. “You should take your bed,” he said as he slid the box into the back seat.

  “The place I’m renting is furnished. But Theresa has a friend with a truck who can help me if I decide I want to move anything big.”

  “Who’s Theresa?” He straightened, frowning. “Not Theresa Jacobs?”

  “That’s right. Zach’s sister.”

  “She’s a friend of yours, too? What does she do?”

  “She’s a tattoo artist, like Zach.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked at her a moment, then shook his head. “I have some work to do,” he said, then left.

  She stared after him, hurt that he hadn’t at least said goodbye. It’s not as if I won’t see him again, she told herself. She still had a lot of things she wanted to say to her dad. She wanted him to accept her for who she really was, not just the good daughter who pleased him, but the difficult one who sometimes did things he didn’t understand. It wasn’t too much to want him to love both sides of her, was it?

  BETWEEN RELIVING THE moment when he’d stuck the tattoo machine into the crook’s ribs, and having wet dreams about Jen, Zach spent a miserable night. He finally gave up trying to sleep and went into work early. He was cleaning up fingerprint powder from around the cash register when Theresa arrived.

  She looked him over as she passed him on her way to the back room. “You look terrible. Are you coming down with something?”

  “There was some trouble here last night. Two guys tried to break in.”

  “You’re kidding? Were you here? Did they get anything?”

  “A couple hundred dollars. And yeah, I was here. I tricked one of them, pretending the tattoo machine was a gun. But the other one got away.”

  “Scary.” She stashed her purse in a storage cabinet. “Smart of you to think of that trick with the tattoo machine.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I guess it kind of shook you up, huh?”

  He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d been alone, but Jen was here. Then her dad showed up and they had it out.”

  “Jen was here?” Theresa’s eyebrows rose. “And just what were you two up to—or can I guess?”

  He scowled, but said nothing.

  She gave him a knowing look. “I saw her this morning, by the way.”

  “Jen? Where?”

  “Outside my apartment.” She took a Red Bull from the refrigerator and cracked it open. “Get this—she’s subletting an apartment right down the hall from me.”

  So she’d been serious about getting out of her father’s house. Or else the old man really had kicked her out. “Did she sound okay when you talked to her?” She’d looked pretty shook-up when she’d left the shop last night. Chief Truitt’s timing couldn’t have been lousier, telling her she should tough it out on her own when she’d just been through what must have been a harrowing experience for her. Then again, nobody ever accused the chief of being the sensitive type. Watching Jen blink back tears last night, Zach would have gladly whipped her old man’s ass, if he really thought that would do any good.

  “Yeah, she sounded okay.” She pulled out a folding chair and sat. “Anyway, she’s going to rent a one-bedroom unit two doors down from me.”

  He nodded. “That’s good.” At least Theresa could keep an eye on Jen, help her out if she got in a bind. Or call him….

  “Why are you so interested?” She leaned toward him. “What’s going on between you two, anyway?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” He was not going to discuss his love life with his sister, or with anyone else for that matter.

  “How gentlemanly of you not to kiss and tell.” She took a long drink. “But I can make a pretty good guess.”

  “Butt out.” He tried to sound menacing, but Theresa was hard to fool.

  “No, the idea of you and Jen Truitt together is much too interesting for me to mind my own business.” She grinned. “Believe it or not, but for the first time in God knows when, I actually approve of your choice in a woman.”

  He couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter at the absurdity of that statement. He couldn’t think of two women who were more dissimilar than his tough-as-nails sister and cream-puff Jen Truitt. “You what?”

  “I approve.” She finished off the drink and tossed the can toward the trash basket. It landed dead-on, a clean shot. “I think Jen may be just what you need. Someone you don’t have to be so tough with.”

  “That’s rich coming from the original iron maiden.”

  She continued to look smug. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. And I think Jen will be good for you.”

  “Yeah, well, who asked your opinion?”

  “I’m your sister. I’m allowed to share my opinions with you anytime I please.”

  “My opinion is that you should mind your own business.”

  She laughed. “You know, I can always tell when I’ve hit a nerve with you because you get really grouchy.”

  “Maybe that’s just from staying up half the night dealing with the cops.”

  “Or maybe our innocent-looking kitten is more of a wildcat than we expected. Is she wearing you out, bro?”

  He swiped a rag off the table and threw it at her. “Don’t you have some work to do?”

  “Nothing as interesting as teasing you.” She stood and gathered up a box of autoclave pouches. “Oh, and just in case you wanted to know, Jen’s apartment number is six-thirty-seven.”

  “Who says I want to know?”

  “I just thought you might want to stop by sometime. To talk…or something.”

  He looked for something else to throw at her, but she slipped by him, laughing. He sank into the chair she’d vacated and stared after her. Six-thirty-seven. He filed the number away in his memory. Just in case….

  FOR JEN, THE FIRST EVENING in her own apartment wasn’t nearly as exciting without someone to celebrate her newfound independence with. Analese had decided to turn the place over to Jen immediately and spend the few days remaining before she left town with her mother. Jen had protested that she didn’t want to kick her out of her own place.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Analese had said. “This is a great excuse for me to go home and be pampered for a few days before I hit the road.”

  Jen hadn’t missed the irony of her friend wanting exactly what she was trying to get away from.

  She
’d invited Shelly over, but she had a date with Aaron. And Jen hadn’t heard from Zach all day.

  The only thing worse than sitting here all by herself was sitting here thinking about Zach. That was no way to spend her first night on her own.

  She searched through the stack of to-go menus Analese had left behind and called in an order. Half an hour later, she was knocking on Theresa’s door.

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she asked when the door opened. She could hear a sitcom blaring in the background.

  “No.” Theresa eyed the brown paper sack warily. “What do you need?”

  “Mostly, company. Maybe some free advice.” She held out the bag. “I brought supper. Kung Pao, broccoli beef and egg rolls.”

  Theresa held the door wider. “Come on in.”

  The first thing Jen noticed about Theresa’s apartment was that it was pink. The walls were a soft rose, the sofa covered in a floral throw, the curtains a deeper rose satin edged in lace. Even the lightbulb in the lamp beside the sofa was pink, casting a romantic glow over the room. A collection of Victorian teapots filled shelves along one wall, while Gibson Girl prints were arranged over the sofa.

  “Nice place,” Jen said, trying not to reveal her surprise. “Did you, um, decorate it yourself?”

  “Yeah.” Theresa switched off the television and followed Jen to the small dining table situated between the living area and the galley kitchen. “Not what you expected, huh?”

  Jen shook her head. “Not exactly. But it’s nice. Really.”

  Theresa moved a silk flower arrangement from a round, oak table to an oak sideboard. “Just because I don’t dress like a frilly girl doesn’t mean I don’t like the stuff.”

  “That’s great.” Jen started unpacking the take-out containers.

  “Lonely over there by yourself, huh?” Theresa said as she brought silverware and plates from the kitchen.

  She nodded. “I could have gone out somewhere, or called another friend. I decided to come here because I want to talk to you.”

  “About what?” Theresa took a bottle of soda from the fridge. “Diet Coke okay?”

  “Sounds good to me.” She set out the cartons of rice, entrées and egg rolls. “You want chopsticks?”

  “Are you kidding? The carpet’s dirty enough as it is. Besides, I prefer to eat my food rather than wear it.” She poured two glasses of cola and brought them to the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “About Zach.”

  Theresa sat and began filling her plate. “If you want to know about Zach, you should talk to him.”

  “That’s the problem. He won’t talk. Every time I try to ask him about his background or anything, he changes the subject.” Jen dipped an egg roll in plum sauce and bit into it.

  “So what else is new? Men are like that. Not just Zach.”

  Jen leaned toward her. “But you’re his sister. You can tell me what I want to know.”

  “Why do you want to know so much?” She stirred Kung Pao and rice together.

  “I just do. I want to understand him.”

  Theresa laughed. “As if you can ever understand another person. Most of us can’t figure out ourselves.”

  “Zach isn’t anything like I thought he’d be when I first saw him. I mean, he looks like a tough guy—muscles, leather, tattoos, sneer. And then I find out he takes in stray kittens. He looks after old people. And he’s an incredibly talented artist, but he won’t talk about his art. He especially won’t talk about his art. Which is weird. I mean, someone asks me about dancing and I could talk all day. But ask Zach about his art and he clams up.”

  “Maybe he thinks you ought to just accept his art—and him—for what it is, and not ask so many questions.”

  “When the two of you were growing up, did he draw and stuff? Did he ever talk about being an artist?”

  Theresa hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. He won a prize in fourth grade for something he drew. A blue ribbon. The foster family we were with at the time made a big fuss. He kept that ribbon on his wall for a long time, until it got lost in a move a few years later.”

  “You were in a foster home?” Jen tried to hide her shock at this revelation. “Where were your parents?”

  Theresa shrugged. “My dad skipped out right after I was born. Our mother was an alcoholic. She wasn’t cut out to raise two kids by herself, so the state took over before I went to school.”

  Jen couldn’t imagine growing up without her parents. Sure, they drove her crazy sometimes, but they were also the two people she’d always depended on most. “That must have been rough.”

  Theresa stabbed at a morsel of chicken. “Yeah, well, it was our life. We didn’t know any different.”

  “Did you move around a lot as kids?”

  She nodded. “For a while they had us in two separate homes, but Zach kept running away, trying to find me. Finally some savvy counselor recommended we be placed together. Things were better after that. Zach looked after me.”

  Jen had a sudden picture of a little boy, trying to be tough to protect himself and his sister. Her heart twisted at the thought. “I guess that kind of childhood would make it hard to get close to other people.”

  “We were always the new kids. The poor kids. The different kids. Zach pretty much started every school year with a black eye and a bloody nose until he got big enough to defend himself.”

  How different Zach and Theresa’s lives had been from her own pampered childhood. She’d taken so much for granted….

  “He was always drawing, though.” Theresa continued. “For a while he talked about going to art school.”

  “What happened? Why didn’t he go?”

  Theresa shook her head. “I don’t know. I was having my own problems then, running around with a wild crowd, doing drugs and stuff. I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on with Zach. He graduated high school and moved out of the place we were staying at the time. I ran away not too long after that.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “The street. Friends’ houses. Wherever.” She shrugged. “Zach found me. Said he was working at this tattoo parlor. The guy that ran the place let him sleep in the room over the shop. He strung a curtain up to divide it in half and moved me in there with him. Told me he’d whip my ass every day if I didn’t go back and finish school. I knew he’d probably do it, too.”

  She grinned. “I straightened out, got clean, finished school. After Zach started doing tattoos, he started teaching me. I liked it. A few years ago, we opened this place together.”

  “And lived happily ever after.”

  “Not exactly.” She laid aside her fork and gave Jen a long look. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to take it wrong. And if you tell Zach I said this, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  She nodded solemnly. “What is it?”

  “That day you came in the shop—I never saw Zach act that way. You really got to him. And Zach doesn’t let people get to him. For a little bit there, he was that kid I knew, the one who threw up every morning before he went to school to face those bullies. The kid with the prize from the art show. The man who might actually need someone else in his life.”

  “You think Zach needs me?” There went her heart, doing a crazy dance again.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But Zach did so much for me. I think he saved my life. I’d probably be dead by now if I’d kept on the way I was going. So I’d like to do something for him, to pay him back. And if that means fixing him up with you, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Jen frowned. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or hurt that that’s the only reason you’re my friend.”

  Theresa grinned. “Maybe it was the only reason at first. But you surprised me, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Beneath that doll-like exterior, you’re an okay chick.”

  She laughed. “Beneath all that leather, you’re an okay chick, too.”

&nbs
p; Theresa held up her glass. “To okay chicks.”

  Jen tapped her glass to Theresa’s. “To okay chicks. And their brothers.”

  “And their brothers.”

  Jen polished off the last of the Kung Pao. It felt good knowing Theresa approved of her and Zach together. If only she could get Zach to see how much good they could do for each other, if only for the short term. Maybe if they spent more time together….

  She turned to Theresa again. “Do you have any plans for the fourth?” The fourth of July was only three days from now. She’d had to rush to get everything settled at the apartment before the long holiday weekend.

  Theresa shook her head. “Zach and I aren’t much on big holiday celebrations. We might close up the shop early if business is slow, but other than that, nothing big. What about you?”

  “My dad always works on the fourth, so we never did any family thing, but I usually try to make the fireworks show at Town Lake.” She smiled. “Why don’t you and Zach come with me?”

  Theresa frowned into the empty Kung Pao container. “I don’t know….”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. We can invite Shelly and Aaron, too. Put together a picnic and get there early to find a good spot to watch the fireworks.”

  “Oh, great. Two couples and me. Won’t that be cozy?”

  “Don’t be like that. You could always bring someone with you.”

  Theresa sat back. “I’m not exactly involved with anyone right now. And I don’t think I want to pick up a guy just to ask him if he wants to ‘see the fireworks.’ He might get the wrong idea.”

  Jen laughed. “Okay, what about Scott?”

  “Scott! You’re kidding, right? He’s barely twenty-one. Not to mention definitely not my type.”

  “Then come by yourself. It’s no big deal. No one’s going to point and stare at you.”

  Theresa studied Jen for a moment, then sighed dramatically. “Okay, I’ll do it and I’ll bring Scott, too. But only to give you and Zach an excuse to spend more time together.”

  Jen made a face at her. “You might have a good time, too, you know.”

  “Oh, I’ll have a good time, all right. Watching big brother try to pretend you don’t get to him in a big way is bound to be entertaining.”