Pretty In Pink (2 page)

* * * *

“Uncle Charlie?”

Charlie turned and scooped Clarice up
in his arms. He didn't think he could love her any more if she were his own.
“Yes, ma’am? How was your school Christmas party?”

“I like your curtains…”

“Thank you.”

She nodded as if her acceptance was
the seal of approval. “And the party was great. It was really great. I got a
lollipop that we were allowed to dress as Santa. And then I got a goodie bag!”

“A goodie bag! Full of what?”

Clarice threw her head back and
laughed. Her little white teeth flashing in the sun that streamed through his
kitchen window. “Why, goodies, silly!”

Charlie smacked his own forehead (a
bit too hard because his ears started to ring) and said. “Duh! What was I
thinking?”

Janette watched from the kitchen door,
smiling and laughing. She’d told him once that nothing made Clarice happier
than spending time with him, and that she loved to see them together.

Clarice turned to her mother and
waved. “What was Uncle Charlie thinking?”

“I have no idea.” Janette shrugged.
Her phone rang and she dug it from her pocket. She held a finger up to Charlie
and left the room.

“I like your mat out front, too.”
Clarice said to him.

“I heard you picked it out.” He stood
at the window, holding her. They watched the birds pick through the snow for
crumbs he’d thrown out. Oddly, he’d seen Kimber Daniels do the same thing. She
also threw nuts from her back deck for the squirrels, and he’d even seen her
toss out apples and other fruit. It was only December and they were already on
their third decent snow fall. It would most likely be a rough winter for
everyone.

Clarice whispered in his ear, “Mommy
helped me out. A little.”

“Ah, I see how that works, then.” So
Janette was pretty much decorating his house and saying that Clarice was
picking it out to get her way. He could live with that. Not so horrible to have
someone who loves you or looks out for you. Or wants you to have matching
curtains and a welcome mat.

“Where’d Mommy go?”

“Phone call. Look at that squirrel.”

“I see him. He’s a hungry bunny,”
Clarice laughed.

“He’s a squirrel!” Charlie teased.

“You know what I mean. Don’t be
difficult,” Clarice said, smiling.

“You are your mother’s daughter.”

Charlie stared at the kitchen window
opposite his, willing her to appear there. Her long, brown hair and shining
face. He had to admit, his heart had sped up pretty well when she’d turned that
first day and waved to him, yelling,
Hello, there, neighbor!
He’d been
smitten. But he’d chew busted glass before he’d admit it.

“What are you thinking about?” Clarice
asked.

“The pretty lady next door,” Charlie
said and sighed.

Okay so he’d chew busted glass before
he’d admit it to an adult. That was the beauty of kids. You could tell them the
truth.

Clarice nodded sagely. “Of course.
Mommy said she’s very pretty.”

“She did? Hmm. Of course, she did.
She’s your mommy and she’s the nosiest nosy ever.”

Clarice nodded again. “I know it.”

Charlie chuckled. He willed Kimber to
show up in the window again, but she didn’t.

Clarice took his face in her hands and
said, very seriously, “Why are you a scum women?”

“What?”

“Mommy said you scum women.”

Scum? Scam? Shun! “I shun women.”

“Yeah, that. Why?”

“I’ve had bad luck is all,” Charlie
said. “But you were closer than you thought.”

Clarice looked very somber and then
she grinned and smacked his cheeks lightly with her still-chubby hands. “You
know what you need, Uncle Charlie?”

“What, baby?”

“A makeover!”

Charlie groaned, but there was a
rumble of a laugh in there. “Hmm. Well, see, about your makeov—”

“Charlie?”

He glanced up to see Janette in the
doorway looking a bit flustered. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Gotta run to the realtor’s office.
It’s just a snafu with the new house but…can I—”

“Sure. I’m off for a few days.
Tonight’s clear, I’ll spot her ‘til you get back.”

Janette blew out the breath she’d been
holding and smiled. “Baby, I'll be right back. Uncle Charlie’s going to let you
stay here, and he’ll make you a grilled cheese.”

“With soup?” Clarice examined his face,
and he tried not to grin.

He might not be ready to speak to the lovely
Kimber Daniels and he might have inappropriate thoughts about her when he saw
her, but the only person in the world who could wipe his mind of that kind of
worry was here. Little Miss Clarice who ruled his world with an iron fist, a
curling wand, and some horrible makeup that she bought at the discount store.

“With soup,” he confirmed.

“And he will let me make him pretty?”
Clarice said in her slyest voice.

Janette snorted, trying not to look
too amused. Her eyes found Charlie's and he shook his head. But then Charlie
caved. “Yes, you can make me pretty.”

Janette covered her mouth, but he
could tell she stifled a laugh.
Horrible, evil, twin sister.

“Be nice to Uncle Charlie.”

“I will. I’m in a blue kind of mood,”
Clarice said.

“Of course you are,” Janette said, her
voice strangled, and then she quickly retreated before he could change his
mind.

* * * *

“What was that?” Kimber grabbed
Sarah’s hand.

“What?”

“It was like groaning metal mixed with
a scream,” Kimber whispered.

“Do you think it’s a monster? Why are
you whispering? You are insane, woman!”

“Well, I…I don’t know. What
was
that Sar? Seriously? This is my house, you know I get freaked when I think
it’s…broken.”

“Like when you cried for four hours
because your toilet backed up?” Sarah snorted, choked on a cookie and rushed to
blow her nose. “Damn.”

“Well…yeah! You know I get a
little…flustered.”

“Birds being shot at get a little
flustered. You get freaked the fuck out.”

The groan and squeal happened again
and this time they both jumped, clutching at each other and doing an odd mix of
screaming and laughing. “Call John! Call John!” Sarah—the ‘brave one’—yelled.

John was the last ex. John was the one
who’d sat and told Kimber over and over that she wasn’t smart enough, savvy
enough, quick enough to start her own business. Especially not with a woman who
always acted as if it were party time. John had not been Sarah’s biggest fan,
but Kimber had kept that from her friend. No reason to hurt Sarah’s feelings
over a guy who clearly wasn’t worth muddying up her mental space. Before John
had been Tad who’d told her that she had child bearing hips and of course if
they ever got married she’d understand that he carry on the tradition of the
men in his family of keeping a mistress. Before him had been Sam the drug
dealer and before him Bryce who was still technically married and had forgotten
to tell her.

It had not been a banner decade for
Kimber. At thirty-two she was ready for a good man or no man. And since men
seemed to be her doom, in general, it was looking as if no man was the way to
go.

Sarah yanked at Kimber‘s arm, ignorant
of how John had disliked her. “Go on. What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, I am not calling that shit stain!
I’d rather be eaten by rabid wildebeests than call him.” Kimber stalked to the
window. She gazed up seeing nothing at all. Nothing. At. All. “He can’t help
me. He is mentally compromised.”

“How so?” Sarah whispered, coming to
the kitchen window and looking up too.

“His head is empty. That’s how so,”
Kimber said.

They laughed, holding each other as
another shrieking kind of moan filled the house. “What. The. Fuck?” Kimber asked.

“Don’t look at me.”

The final wail was the last straw and
Kimber grabbed Sarah. “Come on. Let’s go. I doubt whatever it is can hurt us,
but I‘ve had enough. Time to call in the troops, get back up, muster some
reinforcements.” She was babbling, but talking aloud always helped keep her at
least a bit calm. “Let’s go! Move your ass,” Kimber barked.

“Go where?”

“Next door. Mr. Gay America.”

“He’s not gay!”

“Whatever. We’ll figure that out
later. Let’s go see if he’ll come over with his shield and sword and save us.”

“We’re not damsels in distress.” Sarah
rolled her eyes, but Kimber could see her pulse pounding at her throat.

“Of course not. But…we need help. We
need bulk, muscle…firepower.”

“What?”

“Oh, for Gods’ sake. He’s a cop, Sar.
Let’s go”

Darkness swiftly descended upon them
leaving the air around them the color of periwinkles. They rushed down the
path, slipping and shrieking as evening traffic trickled past. Sarah went into
a skid, pulling Kimber with her. Why were they doing this? Why couldn’t they
figure out what was wrong with the house themselves? Why did they need a man?

Because Kimber had no earthly clue
what to do, where to begin, or how she would solve a household issue if that
ever came about. But before the new year ended she planned on knowing. She was
going to get one of those owning a house for morons kind of books and start
being a domestically empowered woman. She was. Right after she begged her new
neighbor Charlie Bucker? Bowman? Brewster! Right after she asked Charlie
Brewster to help her out this one little time.

They did a Lucy and Ethel-esque slip
and slide right up to his door and started banging. “My god. What if it’s a
water pipe? What if the water main has busted?” Kimber breathed.

“That would be the county’s problem,
honey,” Sarah’s teeth chattered. “You don’t have a whole damn main under your
house.”

“Okay, whatever. You know what I mean.
Do not split hairs. What if my main has ruptured.”

“Then you are fucked.” Sarah’s teeth
clickety-clacking together as the temperature dipped and the wind picked up.
They’d backed up a bit, into the purpling shadows, so the door could be opened.

“Damn!” Kimber said as the door swung
open. Warm, glowing home light came spilling out. The kind of light that cozy,
safe thoughts were made of. The screen door came open and they both turned to
scramble inside the small shelter.

“Hello?” There he stood. All six-foot-three-inches
of him. Sandy hair teased high, eyes painted a garish blue with lopsided fake
eyelashes. His bulk was barely concealed in a hot pink bathrobe with tulip
appliqués on it. Faded jeans stuck out underneath and a plain white tee, but
that robe did it’s best to hug his bulging biceps and nicely cut forearms.

Cold, freaked out, shuddering with the
wind, they still stood dumbfounded and silent.

“Holy mother of Christmas,” Sarah
gasped.

“What she means is…” Kimber lost her
train of thought staring at the train wreck of a makeup job. A hysterical half-snicker
escaped her and she clamped her hand over her mouth.

“
Hello
, pretty in pink,” Sarah
snorted. “What in the hell are you wearing ma—”

Kimber punched Sarah none too lightly
on the arm and her friend winced. “What she means is, hi. Hi there. I’m Kimber
from next door. We’ve waved and…” They both let out a hoot as the December wind
whipped around the porch and froze them to the bone.

“Ladies, why don’t you come in,” he
said, frowning. Even frowning he was handsome. Despite the makeup and the pink
and the tulips. Despite all that, Kimber recognized a smoking hot man when she
saw one.

“Yes, ladies, come on in,” said a
small voice from closer to the ground. Kimber looked down and smiled. A small,
blonde girl, who was the spitting image of their host smiled up. She giggled,
waved, and shook a makeup brush at them. “It’s cold out there. Put some hustle
in your bustle!”

Sarah looked down as if she’d never
ever seen a child before and Kimber had to prod her to get her to move. Soon
they were both ensconced in the brilliant light and warmth of Charlie’s home.

“So what can I do for you?” He  swiped
at his eyelashes, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, the poor thing was blushing.

I'd blush too if that was how I did my
makeup
. But then she
remembered the little girl with the eye shadow applicator. “We heard some very
disturbing noises,” Kimber gasped. “But you…” She indicated his ensemble and
the small girl.

“Oh. This is my niece. Clarice say
hello to my neighbor Miss Kimber and…?”

“Sarah. This is my friend Sarah,”
Kimber said. She bent to shake hands with Clarice. “Hi there!”

“Hi!” Clarice took as step behind her
uncle and peeked out, staying protected but checking them out.