Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (11 page)

"Hey Linda," I greet my boss as I walk past her office toward the common break area. I need to warm up my tea first thing this morning.
 

"Kate!" She races behind me and meets my stride. "Didn't you check your messages?” She’s panicked and frantically pawing at her phone.

"No." I pull my iPhone out of my purse. She's never this anxious. I’m nervous as to what’s so important. "My cell hasn't rung all morning." I power on the screen and I lift my eyebrows in disbelief. Three calls and seven texts missed. How did that happen? I never heard a notification.

"It must be on silent."

I check and sure enough, it is. I
never
silence my phone. I must have inadvertently done so when I reached into my bag.

"What's going on?" There's no reason to listen to my voicemail since she's right next to me and this appears so urgent.
 

We reach the break room and I fill my mug with water and shove it into the microwave. Linda begins talking as I press the button to cook for two minutes. "Janice Foley called here five times up in arms. Her property was burglarized.”

What? How is that possible? “What would someone want in that dump?”

She glares at me and I dip my chin to my chest. “Sorry.” I can’t help if the house is ridiculously disgusting. “Did they steal anything?” Linda didn’t keep many things theft-worthy.

“Scrap metal, anything they can sell. You need to go. Now. She’s furious and is blaming the firm.” She doesn’t look up from her screen, but she means business.

Taking immediate direction from my boss, I agree and jet out the door, leaving my hot water. I hop into my car and peel out of the parking lot toward Janice’s dad’s house.
 

When I arrive, a squad car is pulling away. That’s squared away, so less for me to deal with and add to my day. I’m sure nothing will come from this. No one lives here and nothing valuable was taken, at least I assume. The police may come by every so often to make sure the thieves don’t return, but I don’t anticipate them spending a lot of time on this.

The front door is torn off the hinges, though that’s not much different than any other day. I step over the threshold into the living room, which is in shambles. I didn’t think it was possible for the house to look any more a disaster than it already did. Holes cover the walls and the carpeting is ripped through. If I thought selling this fixer-upper was going to be hard before, now it will be even worse.
 

“Kate — thanks for showing up.” Janice plows through the kitchen into the living room where I’m standing among the mess. “Maybe next time you care to answer your phone for your client.”

“So you’re still my client?” She makes snap decisions and I fully expect to be fired. The break-in wasn’t my fault, but I’m sure she’ll find a way to blame me.

She picks a scrap of carpeting up and tosses it aside. “Barely.”

I release a breath, both out of relief and fear. I don’t want to lose a potential sale, but I also don’t know how in the world I’m going to sell this. Ever. The only positive aspect is the neighborhood, despite the current circumstances. Crime is minimal in this area. The perfect client needs to be willing to put in work. Now I need to find someone who won’t find a total makeover overwhelming. “What happened?”

“What happened?” She throws her hands in the air. “I was robbed. Someone violated my privacy!”

Thanks for stating the obvious, Janice
. “Well, I’m glad you don’t live here. At least no one was home.”

“Excuse me? You’re on thin ice here. It doesn’t matter if I live here, sleep here or just paint my nails here.”

Wait.
Does
she paint her nails here? I peek at her fingers and she definitely goes to a professional. I’m trying to spin this in a positive way, and I’m not surprised she can’t see that.

“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.

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 and 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?”