Authors: Barrett
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbian Romance, #Literature & Fiction
Balefire (16 page)
Silke removed each carton and opened it to see what was inside. “Rachel must have had a problem deciding because she bought at least three entrees and four side dishes.” She waved her arms and laughed. “Look at this, will you? She bought enough for the whole weekend.”
Kirin stood on the other side of the island, peered at the white card
board cartons, and laughed. “How wonderful. Chinese food. I can’t remember the last time I had that.”Silke tossed a fortune cookie at her. “C’mon. I worked hard opening all these containers. The least you could do a share this bounty with me.”
Kirin nodded. “You’re right as usual. It is the
least
I can do. Where are the plates?”“In the cabinet right behind you.”
Within a few minutes, they sat at the kitchen table, indulging in a veri
table feast. At least Rachel hadn’t skimped on dinner . . . with her forty-two-thousand-dollar bank account.
Bitch
.“I feel like I’ve ruined your day with all this drama. You said you were helping Melissa move. How do you think that’ll work out?” Silke spooned more rice on her plate, added beef and pea pods then tore open a packet of soy sauce.
Kirin wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I’ll be the first to admit that I was a little skeptical when Melissa decided to move in with Steffi.” She shook her head and dished more food onto her plate. “I thought the sexual Olympics would run its course, but I was wrong. Melissa is taking this very seriously. I’d never seen her act like this. She’s serious, focused, and attentive. When I saw her with Steffi, I could see a genuine fondness, so I’m cautiously optimistic.”
Silke listened carefully as Kirin described the change in her ex-girl
friend. It was certainly different from her breakup. Of course, the circumstances were different, but Kirin almost seemed happy for her. A warm flush bloomed in her chest when she thought about how grateful she was to have Kirin as a friend—a good friend. Her gentle strength and tenderness felt good. It reminded her of what it felt like when her dad used to tuck her in tightly like a mummy. With her thick quilt wrapped around her, she’d always felt warm and safe.“I don’t know Steffi all that well, but Riz is devoted to her, and they’ve worked together forever. I hope it works out,” Silke said.
“I do too. Melissa has a good heart. She can be maddeningly flaky and capricious, but whenever I’ve had to depend on her, she’s been there. I think I’ll miss that silliness.”
“I’m a little busy right now, wallowing in my own self-pity, but just as soon as I’m finished, I’ll do my best to practice silliness for you.” Silke clacked her chopsticks together. Kirin’s smile was exactly what she hoped to see. Her sweet tender look set butterflies free in her chest.
“I’ll look forward to that,” Kirin said. “In the meantime, I’m sure your brother will navigate this ordeal. And I’ll be here for you anytime you need. Promise. Now let me help you clean this up. It’s getting late and you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to if you need to get going . . .” They collided at the
sink.“I’m sorry. No, I’m not in that much of a hurry. In fact I should prob
ably clean up the kitchen since you provided dinner.” Kirin closed the remaining containers and returned them to the paper bag.“I can’t take all the credit. That would be Rachel, the lying, cheating, conniving, deceitful, sham of a human being.”
Kirin chuckled as she dumped the trash. “Don’t hold back on my ac
count. Tell me what you really think of her.”Silke stopped wiping the counter. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m giving you a terrible impression of the wronged woman and I don’t want to be confused with the
Madwoman of Chaillot
.”“There’s an interesting reference from my distant collegiate studies.” Kirin walked around the counter and gently encircled Silke’s waist with her arms. “In all seriousness, I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through for the last eight months because the woman I met in the middle of a tropical storm is courageous, kind, and gentle. And let’s not forget your creativity or your loveliness.”
Silke felt the color rise on her cheeks and slipped her arms around Ki
rin shoulders, pulling her close. “How did I get so lucky?”She held on, enjoying the rise and fall of Kirin’s chest against her and
the warm hands tenderly stroking her back. For weeks, she’d tried to ig
nore the ache in her belly whenever she was close to Kirin. Tonight she could barely resist the powerful urges and hastily kissed Kirin’s soft cheek as she pulled away.“I . . . I need to run upstairs for a minute . . .” She stumbled up the stairs and closed the bathroom door behind her. Her pulse pounded in her chest and thrummed throughout her body. She turned on the cold water and splashed it on her overheated face.
Get a grip. You can’t do this, you just can’t
.She went back downstairs to the kitchen. Everything was immaculate, and Kirin was hanging up the dish towel.
She turned, and her wrinkled brow showed worry lines. “I apologize, I—”
“Please don’t.” Silke held up a hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong.
I’m an emotional mess, and you’re just being the most wonderful support
ive person I could imagine. You mean the world to me, and I don’t think I’m capable of sorting my feelings right now. But don’t give up on me . . . promise?”Kirin nodded. “I understand. Maybe you could call me when you feel less confused or call anytime you need a sympathetic ear. Get some sleep, okay? And thanks for dinner.” She slipped out the back door and was gone.
Silke stood at the door, watching her disappear into the shadows. She started to close the door and decided to sit on the porch instead. The night sounds soothed her, and her pulse gradually slowed.
What am I doing? The night before I’m ending a long-term commit
ment,
all I can think about is that wonderful woman who devotedly supports me
.She closed her eyes and visualized herself in an intimate embrace with Kirin—sharing their passion without boundaries. She couldn’t remember when the attraction changed from intellectual to physical but tonight she saw the same look in Kirin’s eyes. It wasn’t her imagination.
Chapter Thirty-seven
PHILLIP ARRIVED AROUND ten-thirty with bagels and coffee. He would’ve come sooner, but Silke didn’t call him because she stayed in bed until almost nine. Frightening nightmares alternating with pleasant dreams interrupted her sleep the whole night and resulted in a cranky woman dreading another unpleasant discussion with Rachel.
They opted to sit on the back porch to give Silke a chance to wake up. The fresh hot coffee was both therapeutic and tasty. A storm had rolled through the night before, leaving the air fresh, less humid, and a lot cooler. She closed her eyes a minute and allowed the fragrant steam from her coffee to drift into her brain. Somewhere in the neighborhood were the mingled sounds of lawn mowers and leaf blowers.
“Finally, a smile,” Phillip said. “I was beginning to worry.”
Her brother knew her well. Although their lives were very different now, moments like this reminded her that they had been very close when they were younger.
She put her hand on his arm and nodded. “Thanks for coming over and being such a good brother. I don’t tell you often enough, but I cherish your love and support.”
“I know, sis. Listen, you don’t have to say anything but I would like to ask you a few questions before Rachel gets here.”
Silke sighed and put down her cup. “You’re right. The sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner it’s over.” She tore a blueberry bagel in half and spread cream cheese on both halves.
Phillip opened a slim leather case, which contained quite a number of impressive-looking legal papers. “I want to be very clear on exactly what
you want because legally you’re holding all the cards. If I understand ex
actly what you want and don’t want, it’ll be easier for me to present the
choices.” He shuffled a few papers and pulled out a two-page form. “Fri
day I got a copy of the home equity loan. Is this your signature?”
Silke took the paper. “It looks very similar but . . . No, I didn’t sign
this.”
“I was pretty sure you didn’t, so this is a forgery, and whoever nota
rized it was complicit. That’s her second strike.”
“What’s the first?” Silke looked at Phillip, curious.
He put down the paper and gazed at her, his bright blue eyes very dark. “The first was trying to kill you.”
“Phillip—”
“I’m sorry, sis, but that’s still on the table, especially now.” He put the papers down and turned to her. He took both her hands in his. “Please, believe me when I tell you that I’ve given this a lot of thought. If it’s okay with you, I think the best deal that Rachel can get out of this is to sign a quitclaim deed and accept a one time payment of seventy-five-thousand dollars. It’s much more than she’d get if you guys waited to sell the house. In return, there won’t be any legal problems from me. But she has to take it and move out immediately.”
Silke’s hands felt clammy, her mouth was dry, and she could feel her heart thudding in her chest. She tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. If Phillip hadn’t been holding her hands she might have jumped.
Is this really happening, my God, it really is over. Am I wrong? I don’t know what to do.
The trembling began in the pit of her stomach and rapidly tore through her body until she was shaking.
“I . . . do you really think this is the best thing . . . do you think she’ll agree to it?”
Phillip moved closer and put his arms around her. “It’s okay. I know this is scary but I think it’s what you want, and you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I promise you she can’t hurt you again.”
Somewhere deep inside, a latch loosened and an enormous wave of sadness mingled with relief overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face onto his shirt as deep sobs rumbled up from the secret place she had stored them. Phillip just held her while she cried.
She took the napkin he handed her. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, but it was a long time coming.”
He kissed her forehead and leaned back. “Well, you seem calmer. You look like shit, but I suppose that’s what people look like after an exorcism.”
She poked him in the shoulder, and they laughed uncontrollably.
“I guess the party’s out here.” Rachel stood in the doorway.
“Not really, just one of my bad jokes,” Silke said. “There’s some coffee on the counter if you want some.”
“Thanks.” Rachel went into the house.
Phillip stood. “Do you want to sit out here or shall we go in the living room?”
Silke wiped her eyes again and picked up her coffee. “Let’s go in the living room. I think that will be a little more private.”
Phillip leaned closer. “If at any point you’re uncomfortable, I want you to get up and leave. I’ll handle it. Okay?”
They took a seat in the living room.
Rachel commandeered the wingback chair at the end of the sofa and crossed her long tan legs. When had she had time to do all that sunbathing? She looked good and had on a crisp white blouse that someone had ironed.
“I’m at a loss about why you had to drive all the way down here, Phil
lip,” Rachel said. “I’m not sure we need a lawyer for this.”
Silke bit her tongue.
She knows perfectly well why I asked Phillip to be here
.
Phillip just smiled. “If it’s all right with you, why don’t I explain what we’ve decided.” His voice was soft and a little menacing.
Silke nodded, and Rachel narrowed her eyes enough to convey a threat.
Phillip took up the papers and tapped them on the side of the binder. “I realize how busy you are with your job, so I understood why Silke asked me to put together a couple of options. After reviewing several bank statements . . .” He paused then looked at Rachel. “Neither one of you seems to be in a position to buy the other out. The third option, of course, is to put the house on the market and when it sells, divide what’s left after the mortgage, taxes, and . . . the home equity loan are paid off.”
Silke watched the color drain from Rachel’s face and the muscles in her jaw tightened. The veiled threat she saw before in her narrowed gaze morphed into something closer to evil.
“At current market values—which could change tomorrow,” Phillip continued, “you would each walk away with approximately sixty-thousand dollars. That is, after the real estate and bank fees are paid.”
“That number seems awfully low,” Rachel said.
Silke hugged her arms close to her body as she felt her hands start to
shake. She tried to slow her breathing and focused on a watercolor
painting next to the door to the study. Sunlight shone through the win
dows, highlighting the carved seagull she’d moved to the corner of her desk. Her breath caught and her vision sharpened enough to focus on the detail of the wings.
The conversation between Phillip and Rachel dimmed as though they had retreated from the room. She concentrated until the bird was the only thing she could see. She blinked and saw the bird sculpture as it was the first time, on the kitchen counter in Belize. The image of the rising sun through the mist off the barrier reef filled her with a sense of peace. She could almost hear the gulls, the slapping of the boats on the waves, and the rumble of the powerful motors. Tiny snapshots of Diane and Flora, the smells of grilled fish, ripe fruit, and the ocean all combined to blanket her heart with joy.
“Is that really what you want?” Rachel’s shrill tone cut through the daydream like a ripsaw.
“What? I’m sorry I was distracted. What was the question?”
“Typical. Small wonder I had to make all the decisions,” Rachel spat. “I asked if you agreed with Phillip. He wants me to sign a quitclaim deed to you.”
“Yes, I think he’s being more than fair,” Silke said.
“You do, huh? I guess you’ve forgotten who put down the bulk of the
down payment. Or who bought most of the furniture, the new roof, or re
placed the carpeting . . .”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I don’t care anymore, goddammit. I just want this nightmare to end!” Silke jumped up and hurried out of the room to the back porch. Red spots flashed in her eyes, and she thought her head would explode. She paced the length of the porch for several minutes and curled up on the rattan couch, clutching a throw pillow. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to relieve the pressure.
If she could only scream or throw something it might help. Instead she f
orced herself to relax even though she could still hear their voices. Phil
lip’s had gone from calm and professorial to a louder more ominous tone. Rachel, as always, remained defiant and shrill.
The sound of a throat clearing brought her back. “Rachel will sign, but she’s making a list of things she wants in return. Are you okay?” Phillip sat down at the end of the couch.
“I will be,” Silke said. “This is all making me so nervous. I just wish it was over. What does she want?”
“Mostly furniture and household things.”
“Do you want me to come back in and talk to her?”
He patted her knee. “I’ll let you know when she’s ready.” He walked back into the house with a little less enthusiasm than when he had arrived earlier. Rachel had that effect on people. No matter the prevailing mood, Rachel could turn it on a dime.
Silke stretched out and clutched the pillow to her chest. With her eyes closed, she visualized the project in her studio. The original eight-foot timber had grown strong from a healthy root base. She could do no less, considering her own well-formed roots.
Stay strong, dammit.
This time she would not let Rachel rob her of her happiness, not now not ever. She glanced at the cell phone she clutched in her hand then slipped it into her pocket.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Got a message from Mr. Silver, need to talk to you, asap.
She scrolled up and read it again. Her fingers felt too big for the small keys on her phone. “Crap.”
“Esther Gottschalk.”
“Hi, it’s Kirin. I just got your message.”
“Good news and bad news which do you want?” Esther said.
Her heart sank as a parade of doubts surged into her brain. “I guess the bad first.”
“Nathan isn’t going to publish a story about the tropical storm after
math. He likes it, but feels it isn’t in keeping with the mission of the magazine.”Kirin felt her lungs deflate, and the inevitable disappointment pressed against her heart. She had labored for a couple of months and thought it represented some of her best work. It wasn’t the usual travel magazine fare, but she believed it was well conceived and written. “I understand.”
“Now don’t go all Debbie-downer on me. I told you he liked the piece. He even called a friend over at
Across New Borders
, a new international journal, and he wants to talk to you. It’s not a sure thing, but worth a consideration.”“Doesn’t my contract limit my publication options?”
“Honey, he’s the publisher, he can do what he damn well pleases. Of course, at the end of the day it will still be up to you. Think about it. He’ll be back in the office by Wednesday. Check with Sylvia, his secretary. She’ll let you know when he’ll be free to talk.”
Kirin still couldn’t decide if this was good news or bad news, all she knew was that she felt conflicted. “Thanks, Esther. I’ll need to think about this a little.”
The buzzer on the dryer snapped her out of the ruminating cycle. Na
than Silver had been in the publishing business for decades, as had his father before him. He was an old school stickler and had a gift when it came to
fresh voices and new visions. A short editorial piece in her college news
paper found its way to his desk. He saved that article for years and recognized Kirin’s name when it appeared four years ago on a restaurant review in the
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
.Kirin dumped the fresh laundry on her bed and began folding. She chuckled a little as she remembered the notes he had scribbled on her
first freelance articles. All by hand, all with a fountain pen, and all in car
dinal red ink. He was demanding but he made her a better writer. She finished the precise fold in the fresh white tee shirt and inhaled the clean smell. Maybe that was the reason his reaction to her story surprised her so. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she had always thought if she did a little more, he would be pleased with her new effort. The in-depth piece had been her most carefully constructed story. Even if he didn’t like it, she couldn’t believe he would offer it to someone else.After her clean clothes were carefully stacked in the closet, she put another load into the dryer. There was nothing to do until Wednesday. She reached for the dryer door, and two items slipped out of her hands. One was the
pareo
she had bought on the beach in Belize—bright blue-and-green fabric imprinted with white seagulls. She smiled, remembering the seagulls, and tossed it into the dryer.Silke
. A warm glow blossomed in her chest. That first day at the re
sort when Silke had changed clothes into the perfectly fitted tank top and
pareo
, Kirin could hardly keep her eyes off her. The storm and the
disrupted travel had rattled her more than she wanted to admit. Even af
ter all this time, she could recognize instant attraction. “I sure blew that golden opportunity.”Kirin checked voice mail one more time before returning her mother’s
call. Nothing from Silke yet. She closed her eyes and thought about Sil
ke meeting with her brother and Rachel, her jaw tightened along with a twinge of anger. She wanted desperately to help but understood that it was Silke’s call. She had to make the decisions. Her contact list scrolled as she swiped the screen. She reached home and clicked send.“Hi, Mom, sorry I had to cut you off.”
“It’s not a problem,” her mom said. “I needed to fix your dad a sand
wich. He’s trying to load some program on his laptop your brother sent him. If you could hear him cursing you’d know how well it’s going.”Kirin knew how determined her father was, even with some of the new
er electronics he didn’t fully understand. “Hey, I give him a lot of credit for
trying. Most of the time, I have to ask one of my geek friends. I’m sur
prised you guys have a wireless connection up there.”“Mr. Jorgensen installed a big satellite dish that works well for all of us near the lodge and gives better TV reception,” her mom said. “Oh, yes. I want you to check your schedule because August twenty-fifth we reserved the community room at the lodge for an anniversary party. We’d really love it if you could come up here for a few days. The large cabin next door is available for your brother and his wife. You can stay with us, of course, and if you’d rather, I’ll see if that little traveler cabin is available. I know how much you love that little place.”
Kirin glanced at the calendar above her desk. The phone call from Es
ther still twisted around inside of her, distracting her and causing reflux burning. Maybe this would be a good time to plan a getaway, some place cooler than the city. Besides, fiftieth wedding anniversaries didn’t happen often.“I think that weekend looks good. So why don’t you see if you can get the small cottage? A few days of lake living might be perfect.”
“That’s wonderful. Your dad will be so pleased that you can be here. I’ll call you back when I know more. Take care, honey.”
Kirin wandered to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Pacing didn’t seem
to take the edge off, and her agitation only worsened. Deep inside she wor
ried about her job. The article contained some good work.
Maybe I need a better editor. That might have made a difference.She gulped the beer and slid open the patio door just as the wind from the lake changed directions and sent a dense cloud of moist heat to her fifth-floor condo balcony. The next breeze was a little cooler and lifted the damp hair from her forehead and with it the wailing squawks of the seagulls. A smile teased her lips with what seemed like a distant memory of island gulls.
She unfolded one of the lounge chairs and stretched out. She flinched from a tiny uncomfortable ache burrowing deep in her chest whenever she thought about Silke or Ambergris Caye. The sensation was like an irritation that she had to do something about—like a pebble in her shoe or wet socks
.The Belize adventure had occupied a short week compared to many of her other travels, yet the memories were more powerful and vivid. As she pulled the cold beer bottle close to her lips, a thought occurred like a
tiny poke in the ribs.
Maybe Silke would like to get away from her cur
rent drama, and they could drive up north together
. Her parents would love Silke and then she’d at least have someone to talk to other than her immediate family and their old friends. The adult voice that reminded her to think things through tamped down the urge to run back inside and grab her cell phone.“All right, all right, I can wait until tomorrow.”
Her breathing slowed as her body relaxed in the summer heat. Her
thoughts floated aimlessly until the vision of red scrawls on her manu
script flashed before her eyes. The sparkling bubbles of a possible vacation popped as her writer’s insecurity surfaced. Wednesday left a long time to agonize.
SILKE DROPPED THE rasp for the third time. “Shit.”
Her hopes for a positive productive Sunday vanished in a cloud of ve
hemence and vitriol. Rachel had maintained her equanimity as long as Phillip was still there. But as Silke expected, the veneer cracked quickly as soon as Rachel signed the agreement. At least she did that. Phillip agreed to file the papers, and they would meet one more time to close the deal and pay Rachel off.She shook her head and tried to focus. The top section of the lighthouse was nearly complete, and she wanted to get to work on the section that would hold the light fixture and the widow’s walk, “the cake topper” as she lovingly addressed it. The guardrail, posts, and nautical white rope would create the defining authenticity.
She rolled the stool back and stood. Her back ached and her tee shirt was uncomfortably damp. After stretching for a few minutes, she navigated the narrow staircase to the loft, stripped off the wet shirt, and filled the basin with water. With no need to worry about the floor, Silke splashed the water liberally across her head, shoulders, chest, and back.
The newly installed gigantic attic exhaust fan was anchored at the east end near the roofline. Her landlord jury-rigged a frame to hold it secure. The lethargic blades created a slow steady whoosh sound, but moved a continuous current of air up and out to the studio. The breeze rising from the open windows above her workbench below caused goose bumps on her wet skin. It was heavenly. She shook her wet hair, pulled it back, and clipped it up as she focused on the bed across the loft. The clean comforter and pillowcase on her small bed beckoned, urging her taut muscles to slowly relax.
Sadly, the physical relaxation also reconnected her right and left brain.
Rachel
. The cold hard knot in her chest resurfaced. The physical work kept her from rehashing the ugly scene from earlier.Silke had remained calm as Rachel stomped around the house snatch
ing up items and flinging them into a cardboard box or plastic bag. To a perfect stranger it would have appeared that Rachel was the injured party, when in fact, she was the underhanded, dishonest abuser. Silke needed to remind herself of that fact repeatedly.By the end of Phillip’s careful negotiations, Silke had agreed to al
most all of Rachel’s demands. She surrendered most of the furniture, linens, electronics, music, and some of the art. Rachel allowed her the bedroom set,
desk, computer, one set of dishes, and half the kitchen appliances and uten
sils. She didn’t care. All she prayed for was that it would be over soon. By mid-afternoon, Rachel had stormed out with as much as she could carry and fit in her car. Once the papers had been filed and approved she would arrange to remove the remainder of her things.Silke refolded the pillow under her head and released the breath she was holding. Rachel was in fact gone. Her relationship was over, she was safe, her vision was no better, and she was very alone.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re so freaked out about this phone call,” Me
lissa said. “You’ve known Nathan forever. He’s not the devil. He’s your mentor.”
Kirin paced as she held the phone with one hand and crushed an orange stress ball in the other. “I know, I know, but Esther said he didn’t want to
publish the story. You read it. You told me it was good. What am I sup
posed to tell him?”
“Listen, I’m just about ready to drive over there and smack you in the forehead. Do you know how crazy you sound? Kirin, it’s Nathan. You’re not in trouble. He’s not going to fire you. He wants to talk to you. Could you just get it together for a little while? Trust me, if he could hear you right now, he’d be discussing rehab.”
A nervous laugh escaped, and Kirin sucked in a deep breath and dropped into her recliner. “You win. I do sound crazy. I don’t know what the matter is. I’ve been edgy the last couple of weeks. Maybe it’s the heat. I think I just put too much hope into this article. I forget that most writers feel this
nervous with everything they write until the manuscript is accepted or re
jected. For years, I’ve just turned my work in and waited to be published.”
“Well, I may be way off base, but I think there’s something else dis
tracting you.”
Genuinely surprised, Kirin sat up. “Really? What?”
Melissa groaned. “You did not just ask me that.”
Kirin tried to access her scattered memory bank. She couldn’t imagine what. She knew the flushing sensation meant that her face was crimson and she was grateful to be talking on the phone. She replayed her recent conversations with Melissa to recall any mention of Silke. To the best of her memory, she thought she’d been discreet about the subject.
“If you have an idea that would help, tell me,” she said.
“Honey, you seem to forget we were lovers. I spent a lot of time listen
ing to you, and I know when you’re being obtuse. When you’re keeping a secret, you keep your cards very close to your chest. So, by reverse logic, whenever you avoid talking about something, I know it’s important.”
She’s right.
“That may be very true, and I do have a lot of things on my mind . . .”
“Uh huh.”
“I’ve written three substantial pieces in the last few months and . . . I’ve thought a lot about the direction my career is taking. I mean I’m not getting any younger. No one wants to be globe-trotting every week in their sixties . . .”
“What are you trying to say? You’re rambling. Are you getting married or something?”
“No. I’m just considering some new options.” That sounded reason
able.
“Okay.” Melissa sighed. “Let’s make this simple. Is one of those op
tions an attractive strawberry blond?”
Kirin sat up so quickly the back of the recliner slapped her in the back of the head nearly knocking her out of the chair. “Why in the world would you say that?” She prayed that no one else had made that observation—especially Rachel Bates. She knew well how that circle of women loved fresh meat to gossip about.
“Because you told me the night of the party in Door County,” Melissa said. “Remember? You were leaving early in the morning and taking her home. Duh!”
Kirin’s upper body deflated.
Oh yeah, that night
.
“Besides, when you were here the night I moved, you were as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. It’s not rocket science.”
Her pulse sped up as adrenaline coursed through her veins.
Damage control.
“Look, I was doing a good deed for a friend. I enjoy her company and nothing is going on. I mean it.”
“Okay, if that’s your story, fine.”
Kirin sighed. “And that’s your way of saying you don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. How about we make a deal? We’ll have a long talk some night over a nice dinner, my treat,” Kirin said. “In the meantime, let’s just keep this conversation between you and me. Not you, me, and Steffi.”
Melissa giggled. “I promise I won’t say anything, and you have a deal. But look on the bright side. We killed twenty minutes. It’s time for you to make a phone call, and you’re all calm now.”
Kirin had to laugh. Melissa had done it again and talked her off the ledge. “Thanks, sweetie, I owe you that dinner. Take care.”
She ran to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, and then paced between the bathroom and living room with the phone in her hand.
“Okay, it’s time.” She tapped on the number.
“Nathan Silver’s office.”
Kirin took a deep breath and stopped pacing. “Hi, Sylvia. It’s Kirin Foster. Is Mr. Silver available?”
“Yes. Ms. Foster, he’s expecting your call. One moment.”
Kirin closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Hello, Kirin,” Nathan said. “Thank you for taking the time to indulge in old man.”
Kirin smiled, remembering how he used his suave self–deprecation to disarm friends and foes. The man was an elegant reminder of days gone by. The last face-to-face meeting had been two years ago and the memory was just as vivid. The smell of lemon oil on the dark cherry furniture in his office, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, the familiar scent of ancient leather-bound books lining two walls of his large office.
“It’s always a pleasure to talk to you, sir,” Kirin said.
He chuckled. “I think we can dispense with the
sir.
Let me get right
to the point. I was surprised and quite pleased by your well-prepared ap
praisal of the local response to a tropical storm. It had an earnest, human interest feel to it while it contained a true journalistic style.” He paused, and she could hear papers shuffling. “Very nice indeed. I could see you’d put time and effort into this, which tells me it was important to you. I’m
proud of you and would like nothing more than to feature this in the maga
zine. However, as I’m sure Esther told you, it doesn’t really fit.”
Kirin was perspiring in spite of the air conditioning. “I understand.”
Once again, he chuckled in the grandfatherly way he often did with her. “I’m sure you don’t, and I’m sure you’re disappointed. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I thought a good deal about this article and its effect on me. I’m sure it will have the same effect on readers. The question I’ve struggled with is
which
readers. That’s why I passed it on to my friend Chuck Halpern. His new journal is only about a year old, but he has some smart young writers on staff. I’m giving you a heads up that you may hear from him. I’m not promising anything. This might be a good move for you. Now, that said, you still have a contract with me, and if he is interested, the three of us will have to have a little talk. Do you have any questions?”
Her knee was bouncing up and down all the while he was talking, and she’d chewed her thumbnail to the quick. “Thank you for your kind words, but I’m not sure I understand. Would you be selling the article to him or do you want me to go work for him?”
“Basically, I just want you to know that your piece is good, and I want to offer you a wider audience. Even though it’s not in
my
best interests, it is in
your
best interest to make other publishers aware. Perhaps I could just take a cut like every other agent.” He chuckled.
She heard his intercom buzz.
“Kirin, I have to take this call. I just want you to think about what I said. When I hear from Chuck I’ll let you know, and we’ll talk again.”
“Thank you, I will.” The line went dead.
She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. She leaned against the refrigerator door for a moment and then slid to the floor. She couldn’t wrap her brain around what Nathan had said. It felt like good news, but she wasn’t sure. The most important fact was that he liked it, he liked the article. Human interest. Journalistic style. That had to be good. Right? Damn. It felt good, and Nathan Silver told her he was proud of her.
Shit. That’s awesome
.
With a one-handed fist bump, she jumped up and paced. Who could she call? She wanted to celebrate. Or should she wait until she heard from him? She stopped cold. Best not to jump the gun. “I should wait until I hear from him.”
Sorry I missed your call, leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.
“Hi, it’s Kirin, just checking in. I’m sure you’re busy with the project and all, so I . . . if you get a chance. Well listen, I was wondering if you’d
be around the twenty-fifth . . . my mom called and she’s planning a fifti
eth wedding anniversary party. They’re at the cottage and wondered if I could come up, and I was thinking about our trip back from Sturgeon Bay, how nice it was, and wondered if you’d be interested. Crap, I’m sure this isn’t making any sense so . . . if you get a chance to call, I’d appreciate it. Thanks. Bye.”She stared at the display that read call ended. No kidding. She struck her forehead with the phone several times and sat heavily on the recliner.
I am so lame
. I am a professional writer. I could’ve thought that out a little bit better. She glanced at the phone, half-tempted to call back to remedy her blithering but thought better of it.After staring out the window for ten minutes, she got up. “Get it to
gether, Foster.”The freezer held few surprises. She chose a lonely New York strip and stuck it on defrost in the microwave. That would give her just enough time to run downstairs and swim a few laps. The twitchy nervous energy from the entire afternoon had made her jumpy. The exercise would drain off some of that, and then she could reward herself with a grilled steak, baked potato, and one of Clifford’s handpicked pinot noirs. Tomorrow her head would be clearer. She would make future plans.
“And who knows, I might have a phone message when I get back.” She laughed and then she grimaced. She pulled shorts on over her suit, grabbed a towel and her keys, and closed the door behind her, leaving her phone on the counter.
Chapter Forty
THE TOASTER POPPED, and Silke juggled the two pieces to the plate. On one piece she applied a generous layer of Cheez Whiz and on the other slice, she slathered chunky peanut butter. She cut the sandwich in half and wrapped it in a paper towel, finished the last of her coffee, and rinsed her cup. The cooler contained juice, water, a ham sandwich, and some grapes.
Time to get to work.
The sun was just barely up in the neighborhood quiet. Dew covered the grass in the back, making it look even longer. She’d neglected it and would probably need to hire one of the neighbor kids to cut it. One more thing on the to-do list.
Without distractions, she’d made good progress on the project and hoped to fit the pieces together by the end of the week.
She stopped when she got to the studio and realized she’d been hum
ming. That was something new. The temper tantrums and crying jags had diminished considerably. In spite of occasional naps, she’d managed to sleep through the nights and awaken before dawn feeling rested. The
door rolled up easily with its usual clanketty creaks.
Note to self. Ask Rog
er to help grease the tracks on the door.
The air was cool and damp and one small ray of sunlight shone on the top section of what was looking more and more like a lighthouse. The shingled effect, accentuated by the shadows, gave a realistic illusion. She folded her arms and felt a tiny glow of pride at realizing her vision. Now, if only the client was equally impressed.
Just as she tied her protective leather apron, her cell phone on the work
bench vibrated. The display showed Phillip’s name along with an icon for a missed message.
She picked up the phone and called Phillip. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, dear sister. I figured it wouldn’t be too early for you.”
She hoisted up onto the workbench and leaned back. “You’re right. With this hot weather I want to get an early start whenever I can. But what are you doing up so early? I thought lawyers and bankers had better hours than the working stiffs.”
He laughed heartily. “The ones with their names on the door do. If you recall, I am the father of two young sons—hellions, you might say—when
it comes to getting up for school. We start early and tag-team them. Fortu
nately they’re not good at telling time.”
Her shoulders shook with laughter as she imagined the chaos. She and Phillip had been much the same way when they were little. “Poor Phillip. I had no idea how hard your life is.”
“So, enough of that,” Phillip said. “I have all the papers ready and sent Rachel a message to stop by the office at the end of the week. We can refinance and get a good rate. As soon as she signs, I’ll stop by for your signature.”
Tight coils inside began to loosen. Silke sighed with enormous relief.
She didn’t really expect any more resistance, but she also didn’t trust Ra
chel not to throw a wrench into the plans just because she could. No, she needed to see the signed release before she could completely relax.
“That’s wonderful news. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Don’t think about it, this deal is a win-win for everyone,” Phillip said.
“Rachel gets out of a huge pot of hot water, you get some financial secu
rity, and we get an excellent investment. I have to run, I’ll call you later.”
Silke pressed the phone to her chest. She regretted the years that she and Phillip had lost touch because of their schedules and personal lives. Her family had always been there for her no matter what. She blinked and rubbed a tear away. The light had shifted, and she gazed at a project and the small table laden with tools. A hazy idea formed for something special she could create for Phillip and his family—her family.
The phone in her hand reminded her that she had a message. As she listened to Kirin’s message, she felt the tiny spot below her ribs warm. She laughed as Kirin stumbled through her message. That was so unlike her.
Not quite understanding she replayed the message.
A weekend getaway, that was certainly possible. The project was nearly complete and Phillip said the papers were ready. Why not?
After several minutes of sitting and pondering, she not only couldn’t find anything to prevent her from going, but found the idea of spending the weekend with Kirin very appealing. She donned her safety goggles and picked up a small V-shaped gouge. As she deepened the detailed carving around the faux window frames, she replayed their last trip back from Sturgeon Bay. It marked one of the first occasions she had relaxed and even laughed for months.
Mid-cut she stopped. Her only joy in the past several months had been the times she had spent with Kirin.
She retrieved the cell phone and called Kirin’s number. It went straight to voice mail. “I just got your message. I’m sorry I didn’t check sooner, but I’d really like to go with you. I need a break and I feel like we haven’t talked in a long time. I hope you’re okay. Give me a call when you can.” Grinning, she changed the setting so she would hear the phone ring, which it did immediately. “Kirin?”
“Sorry, it’s Diane. Didn’t mean to disappoint you.”
“I’m not,” Silke said. “I’m thrilled it’s you. What a wonderful sur
prise.”
“Mark had to go up to Cancun to pick up a shipment from California and you know how bored I get when he’s gone,” Diane said.
“What on earth did you order?” Silke took off the goggles and pulled a bottle of water from the cooler then perched on one of the steps.
“We ordered some new appliances for the condos and all new dishes for the restaurant. While he’s there, he’s going to buy some new wines.”
“I hope he has someone to help him with all that stuff.” Silke smiled as she thought about Mark on a shopping spree.
“Do you remember last year we talked about getting a used barge?”
“Of course. I thought you had completely lost your mind until you ex
plained the cost of shipping.”
“We finally found one that was just the right size, and Mark found some longshoremen to handle it.” Silke could hear the smile in Diane’s
voice. “They took it up last week, and he flew up to meet them. Once ev
erything is loaded, he’ll fly back.”
“Sounds exciting. I suppose that helps when you need construction ma
terials.”
“Absolutely. That’s the costliest item to ship. And every time there’s a storm, we need more material,” Diane said. “Speaking of storms. How’s your writer friend?”
Silke felt herself blushing. “I think she’s been pretty busy since we got back.”
Diane paused. “Is there anything else you’d like to say about her?”
“Like what?”
“Well, wasn’t she writing a fantastic article about the storm? What ever happened with that?” Her voice held just a hint of merriment.
“Oh, my God. I’ll bet that’s why she called,” Silke said. “Yes, she
did finish the article, and it’s amazing. Maybe she’s heard from her pub
lisher.”
“If you talk to her, please thank her again for the piece she did on the resort. Mark and I both appreciate it, and the guests have been very complimentary. We’ve had a lot more traffic to the web site, too.” Diane paused again. “When are you coming back here? I miss you.”
Silke related a Cliffs Notes version of the Rachel saga. She was careful to point out how Phillip handled everything perfectly. She went on to brag about the completion of her new project. “I think I should have everything wrapped up by mid-September. When I have a firmer idea, I’ll let you know, but I’m looking forward to coming back and seeing you. I have a notebook full of ideas for some drawings and a few other ideas I want to work on.”
“I’m so happy to hear that. You sound wonderful and it sounds like your life is moving in a new direction,” Diane said.
“It is. I really believe it is,” Silke said with a smile.
“Can’t wait to see you. Big hugs from both of us.”
Silke leaned back against the window frame and gazed up at the
skylight. Large branches laden with oak leaves filtered the hot sun, making each leaf look shiny and new.
“New leaves. Good metaphor.”
KIRIN PUNCHED REPLY on the message from Silke.
“Hello?” Silke answered in a breathless voice.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Kirin asked.
“No, I was hoping you’d call. It’s just that I was lying on the floor
making an adjustment on the fitting.” Silke’s giggle suggested nervous
ness. “How’re you doing?”
“Pretty well. It’s been busy around here, but no more deadlines for a while, and I’m looking forward to taking a break,” Kirin said. “So, it sounds from your voice mail you are up for going?”
“Yes, and it couldn’t have come at a better time,” Silke said. “I’m nine
ty percent sure I can get out of town in two weeks and I really need it. I feel like I’ve been running in circles, and when I got your message, all I could think about was pine trees, lakes, and loons.”
Kirin smiled at the enthusiasm in Silke’s voice. “That’s great, I feel the same way. I love the lakefront, but there’s something about going up north that really feels like an escape. When I was little, all we could think about was daily adventures, swimming, and eating great food.” She had to laugh because that was what she still remembered. “I’d love to catch up, maybe get some dinner, or take a walk . . . if you have any time you can carve out.”
Silke chuckled. “Nice pun, and yes, I’d really like to get together. Phil
lip is supposed to get back to me about a time to sign papers. As soon as he does I’ll let you know.”
“That’s great. In the meantime, I’ll let my mom know so she can relax.”
Kirin felt like an idiot, sitting in her chair, staring at her cell phone, and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Her brain slipped into hyper-drive as she thought about what would make the perfect evening for two women overdosed on adrenaline. She booted up her computer and slipped easily into one of her favorite pastimes—research. Within minutes, she had a solid plan for the perfect outing.
WAITING FIVE DAYS had been torture. Kirin spent the morning get
ting the car washed, doing laundry, and ordering a picnic supper. Silke thought she’d be ready by four o’clock.
Feeling slightly frustrated, Kirin turned off the iron and hung up the third outfit. She had eliminated the first two for totally irrational reasons. She eyed the Kelly green polo shirt one more time. It looked nice with the white slacks . . . better with the navy blue.
Enough. Silke probably wouldn’t notice anyway and she couldn’t waste any more time. Her shorts and tee shirt landed in the laundry basket, and she turned on the shower.
Within forty-five minutes, she was exiting the expressway onto east Locust. Silke had suggested she swing through the alley first in case she was still in her studio. At exactly four-thirty she stopped the car in front of the open door. She could see Silke kneeling beside one of the pieces, completely focused on some detail. As she got out of the car, she thought to slam the door so she wouldn’t startle Silke by just appearing behind her like a ghost.
It worked. Silke leaned back on her heels and pushed up her goggles. She shook her head and laughed. Her long hair came unfastened and fell across her shoulders.
“I can’t believe it’s this late. I really did plan to quit over an hour ago.” Silke pulled the bandana from her neck to wipe her face.
The image of a working artist transfixed Kirin. Silke’s exposed skin glistened with perspiration as she knelt in the sawdust and glowed with pink highlights from the deflected sunlight above. Her posture was strong
and sensuous at the same time. She rested her forearms on the large
sculpture, accentuating the well-defined muscles in her arms and shoul
ders.
