Calculated Risk (13 page)

 

****

 

Nick listened to the message he'd allowed to go to voicemail. Dana announced she'd pick him up tomorrow at eleven. He'd rather drive himself. How would Mom react if she saw Dana? That wouldn't happen. Knowing Dana, she wouldn't come inside the house. In any case, he'd make sure she didn't.

When the credits rolled across the screen, he stood and stretched. He helped Cisney into her coat. “Well, what did you think of the movie?”

She stuffed her candy box and cup into the popcorn tub. “The heroine was hard to take, at first. She seemed so dumb about the hot-looking jerk. I have to admit, I would never have predicted that both the mild man in the wings and the hot guy could change enough that the movie pulled off the heroine ending up with the hot guy. You don't ever see that. It was an interesting twist.”

Did the movie tempt Cisney that Jason could change enough to warrant a second chance in her affections? A guy like Jason needed a heap of change to be worthy of Cisney. The movie hero had taken five years to transform in to a decent guy. From what Nick knew of Jason, he'd need five decades.

Cisney and Nick trailed Tony and Allison down the theater steps.

Allison turned to give Tony a swat at something he said and her heel caught on the step. She went down with a yelp, plowing into Fran and Fanny, who caught themselves from falling.

Tony righted Allison and stepped down a stair. At Tony's beckoning, she climbed onto his back, laughing and moaning. He hooked his arms under her knees and continued down the stairs.

Cisney leaned close to Nick. “They seem perfect for each other. Why aren't they planning a lifetime together?”

“You sound like Mom. They've been close friends a long time. Why ruin it?”

“You're kidding, right?” She leveled her gaze on his. “Don't you think best friends are what a couple should be first?”

Did Cisney hear her own good advice? Were she and Jason best friends first? A best friend didn't horn in on your circle of friends after he dumped you and left you alone for Thanksgiving. She was still raw from the breakup, or she'd see she didn't walk her talk. At least he and Dana had started out friends, and still were, or he'd have turned down meeting her tomorrow.

Cisney kept her gaze locked on him as they inched their way to the double doors.

He sighed. “Yes, I think it's a good idea for a couple to be best friends before jumping into marriage. When Tony grows up, I think he'll marry his best friend. Happy?”

“Yes.” She smiled up at him. “I like happy endings.”

 

****

 

Nick let everyone out of the van and pulled it into the garage. Tony walked Allison home, and Nancy and the girls tiptoed off to their rooms in the quiet house.

Cisney waited for Nick in the foyer. “Today was one of most entertaining Thanksgivings I've ever experienced. You all have made me feel part of the family.”

Didn't he know it.

She stepped onto the first stair.

“Cisney.”

She turned, her eyes bright. “Yes?”

He rested his hand on the banister. “I have some business tomorrow that will take me away for a few hours. Will you be all right?”

The brightness dimmed. “Sure. I saw a bookcase in there.” She pointed to the room opposite the front room. “It looks like a cozy place to read. Or maybe I'll go down by the lake. I'm good at amusing myself.”

Yeah, like thinking up ways to put another notch on her challenge belt. “Mom thought you'd like to go shopping with Nancy and Allison on Black Friday.”

“They didn't invite me.” She poked his chest. “And don't you make them. I don't want to barge in on their time together.”

What was the big deal? Shopping was shopping. Not some social event. “They'll want you to go.”

“Promise me you won't say anything to them.”

“I won't.” Why did he feel guilty for leaving her? He'd never promised her twenty-four-seven entertainment. And she'd claimed she could entertain herself. Even so, guilt lay like a river stone on his chest. “All of Aunt Sandy's clan will be leaving tomorrow morning.”

She frowned. “I didn't say goodbye. How early do you think they'll leave?”

“Probably around eight.”

Her cell played the marimba. She jostled it out of her handbag and checked the screen. Her face blanched. “I better take this.”

She hurried up the stairs. “Hi, Daddy.”

 

 

 

 

8

 

Cisney held her cell away from her mouth, so Daddy wouldn't get an earful of her heavy breathing after she ran up two flights of stairs.

He spoke loudly as if he thought he had to yell all the way from Germany.

Her breathing and heartbeat refused to quiet, and it had nothing to do with physical activity. She'd have to tell Daddy the truth—tonight.

“We spoke so briefly on the phone before,” Daddy said, “I didn't get a chance to ask you about your Thanksgiving.”

“It must be about four in the morning there,” she said.

“I couldn't sleep. How's my man, Jason?”

“I'm not at Jason's.” And neither was Jason. The rat.

“What? Where are you?”

“A friend from work invited me home for the holiday.”

“But why didn't you go to Jason's? Is he there with you?”

She hated ruining Daddy's vacation. “Because…because he broke up with me.” She cringed waiting for the blast.

“Oh, Cis…” He sounded sympathetic. Maybe Daddy could understand that a man like Jason did pretty much what he wanted, and he wanted to date the beautiful blonde doormat. “What did you do, honey?”

“I cried, mostly. I'm sorry, Daddy, I know how you feel about crying, but—”

His volume ratcheted up a notch. “No, I mean, what did you do that made him leave?”

Her jaw dropped. Was he serious? Utterances of disappointment, yes. But what did she do? Well, nothing. If curbing her wants and needs when around Jason was nothing.

“I don't know, Daddy.” Shame flowed like hot syrup over her head and down her back.

“Come on, Cis, you must have done something to make the man who's dead-on right for you hightail it.”

“I think another woman, a beautiful one, helped whatever it was I did, Daddy.” She stuffed the urge to coat her cynical words with a sarcastic tone.

“Ah, a beautiful woman.” He sounded like everything was explained. “A man like Jason needs lots of attention so he doesn't stray. Were you making yourself available for his business and social functions? Did you help him entertain clients?”

She heaved a sigh. “I—”

“I did not raise a doormat, Cis. Get out there and fight for your man.”

She didn't want to fight for Jason. Besides, doormats seemed his type, so she must be doing the right thing. “Daddy, I'm sorry this is a disappointment for you.”

“I just want you to be happy, honey.”

“I'll work on being happy, Daddy.”

“Good. Why don't you give Jason a call? He's probably in the middle of family, wishing you were there with him. Or…I'd be glad to call him.”

“No, that's OK, Daddy. He's not at home, anyway.”
He's in the middle of a robbery, pocketing my friends.

“I'm bummed, Cis. Really ticked off. I thought we'd caught a live one.” His breathy sigh left her with no response.

Lord, help me.

“You sure, you don't want me to give Jason a call?”

“Positive.” Even bird droppings wouldn't capture how she'd feel if Daddy went to work on Jason, and Jason begrudgingly agreed to give their relationship another shot.

“Well, Mom and I are on an early afternoon flight home tomorrow. We've had a great three weeks with DJ, Jenna, and the kids. I'm glad you had a girlfriend invite you home for the holiday.”

Was it lying to let him believe her friend was someone other than a mild-mannered actuary possessing a male chromosome—the type of guy Daddy considered one of mankind's nuisances in the name of progress?

 

****

 

Cisney dragged herself downstairs before eight in the morning, dressed and a smile affixed to her face. The smile wouldn't stay put, though. The muscles around her lips kept drooping. No wonder. Prolonged face scrunching had exhausted them while she cried herself to sleep.

Each day, Jason's image faded a little. Thank goodness. He was becoming more and more of an upsetting irritation, or at times, a wistful sorrow, but Daddy laying the blame on her for Jason's desertion was a wound so raw that no suture held. Daddy wanted so much for her and so much from her.

Her few minutes reading the LeCrones' Bible had calmed her, but now, Daddy-induced resentment, guilt, and doubt seeped back in and brought along sadness and humiliation. They rumbled inside her like planets smashing into each other. Debris shooting from the clashing spheres peppered her paper armor.

She should've never taken astronomy. The analogy wasn't helping her make sense of her confusing emotions. She dismissed the planets to spin elsewhere and went outside to say goodbye to the departing family.

Allison parked off the road in front of the house and walked over to the driveway.

Tony winked at Cisney, and then enclosed Allison in a bear hug, complete with a ferocious growl.

So, after all Tony's flirting, Cisney had to settle for a wink. She could do with a bear hug about now. At least Tony's parting antics breathed life into her smile. Once inside his car, Tony saluted the onlookers and backed out of the driveway.

As the car rolled by Nick, he rapped his knuckles on the hood. “See if you can come up with something better than the polka next year.”

Sandy, Bill, and the twins turned their frenzy of hugs onto Cisney. She hoped their kind assaults wouldn't unravel her fragile emotions. Keep her upper lip stiff and her lower one firm.

She was doing well. As Fran approached, she was even able to offer a smile. No threat here. Cisney wrapped her arms lightly around the reserved twin. Fran's warm embrace lingered for a second longer than the others. Not fair! Cisney bit her lips together. If only she could slink home and lick her wounds and wallow in her self-pity. But, no, Nick had foiled that plan, and she had to hide her protective wall's fallen stones and crumbled mortar the best she could, while everyone stood on the lawn and waved the SUV around a curve.

Lord, throw me a rope.

Waving done, Nick strode by her, followed by Roger and Grandpa, and they scrambled into the house. What was the rush?

Nancy fell into step with Cisney. “Don't mind them. It's our tradition for the men to make the day-after-Thanksgiving breakfast.” She laughed. “Wait until you see the show. I think they practice all year, because they keep getting better.”

Cisney grasped the rope. God was good.

While the ladies sipped peppermint tea at the country table, the men collected ingredients and utensils. The tea soothed Cisney, and the chatter around her offered a breather from the morning's turmoil.

Nick flipped pancakes over the built-in griddle. He turned to the women. “How do you like your pancakes?”

“Medium well!” Nancy and Allison called in unison.

Cisney looked from one to the other, and then laughed.

Roger whipped a second batch of pecan pancake batter. “How do you like your batter?”

Nancy and Allison directed their hands toward Ellie.

Put on the spot, Ellie clamped her hands to her face and looked to the ceiling. Then her eyes lit up. “Up at bat!”

“Good job, Mom,” Nancy said.

Nick turned and gave his mother a thumbs-up.

Grandpa paused in twisting orange halves on a juice reamer. “How do like your orange juice?”

Ellie joined Nancy and Allison in passing the baton to Cisney. She jerked to attention. What had happened to Grandma Thelma's turn? “Ah, ah…face-slapping fresh!”

The family's laughter, Nick's approving grin, and orange and peppermint scenting the air soothed her mood like the best thing since Gilead's balm.

Nick turned a bubbling pancake. “Are you ready, Grandma Thelma?”

She flapped a hand at him. “Leave me out of this. I'm too old to think of a snappy answer.”

“Sorry Grandma, you have to answer your question. How do you like your chefs?”

The men turned from their tasks, stuck out their chests, and draped their arms around each other.

“About as much as Moe, Larry, and Curly.”

Nancy and Cisney clapped, and Allison stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The men took a collective bow, and then turned back to their duties.

Roger threw his whisk high into the air and caught it behind his back, spraying batter all over himself and Nick. Nick flipped a pancake with such gusto that it stuck briefly to the ten-foot ceiling before plummeting into Roger's bowl of batter. And Grandpa, not to be outdone, juggled three oranges. After his last toss, he stretched out his apron pocket and the oranges fell one-by-one inside.

Cisney struggled for breaths between guffaws. How had she ever considered actuaries frumps?

After breakfast, everyone joined in to clean the kitchen, and then headed in different directions to get ready for the day.

Nancy and Allison had persuaded Cisney to lunch, shop, and go for pedicures and manicures with them at the Northlake Mall in Charlotte.

Nick had grinned and shot her an I-told-you-so look before heading up the stairs.

Deserted, Cisney wandered into the front room and ran her finger over the keys on the Steinway. She strolled to the cozy room across the foyer and perused the novels in the bookcases. Christian suspense and romance dominated the genres. She selected an Amish romance and, feeling like Jane Eyre, settled into the cushioned window seat to wait for Nancy and Allison.