Calculated Risk (17 page)

 

 

11

 

Nick stood in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. Cisney's red dress swished from side to side as she hurried up the first flight, her cell to her ear.

The incoming call had broken the spell. Thankfully. He'd nearly drowned in those huge eyes of hers. But that was the alien's plan. He, Nick, was back in control.

She'd gone before he'd had a chance to tell her about being gone a few hours tomorrow, but Mom would take care of her while he pursued Option B.

He removed his coat, slung it over his shoulder, and shuffled up the stairs. He had some serious praying to do. Option A. Option B. Dana. Cisney. Whom he'd just kissed.

When he nearly reached the landing, Grandpa emerged from his room and plodded toward the bathroom. At the door, he flipped on the light and turned to Nick.

Nick paused on the top step. “I hope we didn't wake you.”

“No. Grandma did that when she got up. Late night, huh?”

“We had a flat tire.”

“Uh, huh.” Grandpa crooked a finger for him to come near.

He stepped closer. “No josh, Grandpa, we had a flat.”

“Well, Honest Abe, you thinking about starting something with Cisney, or are you thinking of patching things up with Dana?”

“Does the whole house know about Dana?”

Grandpa gave him an are-you-kidding-me look.

“It's my business, Grandpa.” Dana's involvement in Option A would remain his business for a while longer. He wasn't far enough along in his career decision to disclose his interviews and get the family excited about having him live nearby. Things might not turn out that way.

“Sure it's your business. But your grandpa wants to save you some heartache, if he can. Promise me you'll think about three things as you drift off to sleep tonight.”

“I'll try.”

Grandpa raised three fingers. “What circumstances God has put before you in your love life. And which door the Lord is closing.” Grandpa dropped his hand and turned toward the bathroom.

“You said three things.”

Grandpa faced him. “Ask yourself, ‘Which lovely lady do I find myself laughing with more.'”

“OK, Grandpa. I'll pray on it.”

“Good. Just so you know, I'm praying, too.” Grandpa took a step toward the bathroom, and then stopped. “And Nick?”

“Yeah.”

“You better wipe off the lipstick so you don't get it on your pillow and send your mother into a tizzy when she changes the sheets.”

Nick grinned sheepishly and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “We did have a flat tire.”

In bed, Nick locked his hands behind his head.
Thank You, Lord, for confirming today that You planned a different husband for Dana. Please bless her marriage. Guide me now about whether we're to work together.

He focused on the ceiling fan barely visible in the dark room.
Lord, is Cisney a hurting woman You put in my path to comfort, or is she something more? She makes me feel out of control—taken over by an alien.

Was he blaming an alien for kissing Cisney
?
No. He'd been front and center when he'd lost his battle with temptation.

Life with Cisney wouldn't be easy
. Lord, she's disorderly, fanciful, headstrong, smart, beautiful, gracious, kind, knows You, and…she makes me laugh.
Could he ask God for no more long-distance relationships, or should he trust Him to work things out His way?

 

****

 

Cisney lay across her bed, relating her evening to Angela. All, except the kiss. That was private and hers to enjoy.

“Your voice sounds different,” Angela said. “Like you're a wound up music box. I hope you'll be all right when the music winds down to a stop.”

Cisney rolled onto her back. “Nick's really a wonderful man.”

“So, he's Mr. Communicator, now?”

He'd been cryptic tonight when she'd asked him about his thoughts. The connection between his love life and calculating risk was vague at best. But he had kissed her. Wasn't that loud and clear communication for someone like Nick? “He's improving.”

“Good. I wish I could say the same for Jason.”

The music box stopped, and she scrambled to a sitting position. How could she have forgotten Jason had called and hung up? “Jason's not talking? What does that mean?”

“He's been in a mood all day. After he put Candy Sue in ski school he spent the morning skiing by himself.”

So that was her name? Candy Sue? Amazing no one had said her name until now. And she'd never wanted to ask.

Maybe his mood had something to do with why he'd tried to contact her. “Jason called me earlier this evening, but he hung up before my cell went to voicemail.”

“Ah. That's an interesting end to his sulking day.”

Why'd she hope Jason and Candy Sue were not on the outs?

“Did Jason and CS have a spat?” Her replacement's name sounded too syrupy sweet to put her tongue around.

“I don't know. I noticed he didn't give her the usual peck on the lips before she fell sunny side up in the snow at the T-bar. Of course, that may have been attributed more to his disposition than to her.”

“So you don't know why he called me?”

“I haven't a clue—wait a minute. I saw him on his cell on the deck this morning. His body language said he was ready to mow down any kid on a snowboard who got in his way on the slopes.”

That sounded like Jason when things didn't go his way.

“Was his face beet red?”

“Yeah, sort of like your dad's gets when the Redskins are losing.”

“That, red, huh.”

“Yes. Do you think his upsetting phone conversation had something to do with his call to you?”

“I hope not.” That's all she needed. An angry ex-boyfriend calling her. One who'd given a drunk a fat lip for getting too close to her. “Jason could have called me for something as benign as information. My brother used to be a ski instructor there in his free-spirit days before Daddy put his foot down. Maybe Jason called DJ for a list of his favorite restaurants and couldn't reach him, so he called me.”

“Then his call had nothing to do with you. Believe me, he wasn't ticked off over getting restaurant recommendations. Jason seems the kind of guy who steamrolls over obstacles for what he wants, and whatever he wanted, he wasn't getting.”

And he dropped what he didn't want like a used tissue. What kind of person dumped his girlfriend over the phone?

Angela let out a sigh. “Tonight, Tom and I decided against going to dinner with the group. We chose to soothe our muscles in the hot tub and eat two family-sized bags of chips. So, I don't know how things stand with Jason and CS now.”

Only Cisney's friend would understand substituting initials for the new girlfriend's name. “I hope everything's cool between them, and I don't get any more calls from Jason.”

“I can imagine only one reason for him calling you, Cis. He wants you back. What man in his right mind wouldn't?”

Ick.

“The more I think about it, that must be the reason. Would you want him back?”

How could she love Jason a week ago and now feel sick that he might want her back? She held her head in her hand, hoping the nausea would abate.

“Cisney? Are you there?”

“I'm here.”

“Tell me, do you want him back? I know you're all goo-goo eyes over Nick tonight, and I was rooting for him, but you have six months invested in Jason. Maybe instead of being a creep, Jason made a big mistake. Maybe his sullenness today was pining over you and had nothing to do with his morning phone call. I could run interference for you.”

“No!” That must have been loud enough to blow Angela's eardrum. Cisney toned down her volume. “Sorry. No.”

“He can be very charming and pleasant, Cis.”

Jason could be amiable and fun, when things went his way. “Truth? I'm glad he's gone.”

“Tell me you're not being spiteful because, now that he's regretting his loss, you have the upper hand.”

“I have no desire to rub his face in his rejection, or his mistake, or whatever you call it. Anyway, you don't really know if he's regretting anything.”

Angela had always considered Jason a great catch. He'd captivated Angela as much as he had Daddy—and her, until now. Enough of Jason.

“Did you ski a black diamond trail yet?”

“Tomorrow. I'm warmed up and ready for it.” Angela sucked in a breath. “Oh, I keep meaning to tell you, your fitting for your maid-of-honor dress got changed to Monday.”

“That's better than Wednesday, which was cutting it close to the big day.” She grabbed her pad of yellow stickies, jotted the change of day, and adhered the note to the bedside table. “Don't break your neck. Besides ruining your wedding and honeymoon in Aruba, I need you and Tom working on the presentation we give to the executive staff in three weeks.”

They said their goodbyes.

Cisney sat motionless, her phone still in her hand.

This was weird. Downright bizarre. In so many ways. The biggest? She didn't care to know about Jason's bad days. Or even that he might be having second thoughts. When someone broke up with you, it should be a law they had to obey a restraining order. Why should the dumpee be harassed? She knocked her head against the headboard. What would she say to Jason if he called tomorrow begging her to take him back?

 

****

 

Dressed and ready for the day, Cisney opened the drapes on her tower window, expecting to see Nick reading his Bible by the lake, but the bench was empty. The sun sparkled on the water, mirroring her mood.

What would she and Nick do today? Was he looking forward to a day together as much as she was? Maybe they'd walk to the nearby boat access she'd seen during yesterday's excursion to the mall. Might he hold her hand? That'd be a nice change from him grabbing her hand and dragging her someplace.

She floated down the two sets of stairs. Bacon and coffee aromas beckoned her to the kitchen. Ellie, Roger, Grandma Thelma, and Grandpa looked up from their conversation at the table.

She beamed at them. “Good morning. Sorry, I'm late.”

Ellie hopped up. “Perfect timing. The scrambled eggs are hot. Tea or coffee?”

Cisney sat next to Roger and across from Grandpa. “Tea, please.” If she ever had a kitchen big enough, she wanted a farm table like this one for casual family meals. So chummy.

“Did you sleep well?” Roger held the platter, while she scooped eggs and bacon onto her plate.

“The best sleep I've had in weeks.” Which proved a dreamy kiss trumped phone calls from ex-boyfriends every time.

Cisney eyed the toast and cherry preserves. She'd help whittle down the toast stack as long as the cherry preserves in the glass bowl lasted. Talk about a perfect day: a good night's sleep, time with Nick, and cherry preserves. “Where are Nancy and Nick?”

Ellie poured tea into Cisney's cup. “Nancy is in her classroom putting up new bulletin boards.” Her lips tightened. “Nick is taking care of some business, and won't be back until after lunch. I guess he forgot to tell you.”

A tingling crawled up Cisney's throat, the familiar warning sign that she might vomit at any moment. Yesterday, business meant Dana. Why would it mean anything different today? But he'd kissed her. That meant something, didn't it?

Or had he meant his oops, following her wow, after their kiss? She'd thought he'd been kidding. Blood drained from her head. Right after his oops, he'd called it a night.

She dropped her hand below the table and pressed her queasy stomach. Nick had ended the night because he knew the kiss was a mistake. How could she have misread him? Easy. He had the communication skills of a Neanderthal, and she had the outlook of a fairy princess.

“Are you all right, Cisney?”

She raised her head. Grandpa looked concerned. “I'm fine.”
Take in oxygen, Cisney. And smile.
She flashed a smile around the table and busied herself with her napkin, sucking in as much air as she could without making a sound or puckering her lips. It was working. The prickling sensation in her throat abated.

She stared at her eggs. The tingle returned, stronger. She had to get out of there.

“Dad and I are going to the hardware store this morning,” Roger said to Ellie. “Can we pick up anything while we're out?”

“Yes. A head of lettuce. Are you going to get the motor running on the pontoon?”

“We thought we'd try.”

Ellie's eyes brightened. “Good. We can all go out on the lake this afternoon. Take a picnic.”

Say something, Cisney.
“That would be fun.”
Eat.
She couldn't bear the eggs. She took a small bite of her toast, the cherry preserves now too sweet.

Her phone played the marimba. Her chance to escape. “Would you excuse me? I think I'd better get this.”

They nodded. She hurried from the room and answered the call.

Before she could say hello, the familiar voice spoke. “Cisney.”

Jason. Oh, no, not now
.
Should she tell him she'd call him later?
Lord, guide me.
“Could you hold a moment?”

She had to calm down. She climbed the first flight of stairs. Did God want them back together? Was that why Nick's kiss was a mistake? Why couldn't she remember the good times with Jason? Any happy memory would do. One to spark her heart in his direction.

Cisney sat on the top step and took in a calming breath.
You are my strength, Lord.
“OK. I can talk now.”

“That was a dirty thing to do.”

She startled. “I'm sorry. I was at breakfast with my friend's family. I didn't think you'd want to share our conversation with them.”