Calculated Risk (15 page)

Nancy apologized to the woman and turned back to Cisney. “You nailed it.” She fluttered her painted nails and grinned. “No pun intended. Nick's sadly missing the communication gene. Of course, he thinks he communicates just fine, citing how people from inside and outside the company ask him to explain actuarial stuff.”

Cisney raised her eyebrow. “Claiming to be the top communicator in the actuarial department is like a worm boasting how smart he is because fishermen dig him. Have you ever met Nick's boss?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I think we've degenerated into gossip.” Cisney placed her hand over her heart. “Not a pretty picture for a woman who claims to be a Christian. Sorry.”

Nancy scrunched her shoulders sheepishly. “Me, too.”

“Guilty. Me, three,” Allison said.

Silence hung in the air.

 

****

 

Mid-afternoon, Allison dropped Cisney and Nancy at the LeCrones'. Nancy brought wrapping paper to the attic room for Cisney to wrap her gifts for Ellie and Nick.

Cisney deposited her gift-wrapped presents on the bed. “I hope your mom and Nick like what I chose for them.”

“They will.” Nancy pulled photo albums from the chest at the foot of the bed.

Cisney dragged the window armchairs together. “I love looking at family photos.”

Nancy opened an album across Cisney's lap. “I haven't looked through these albums since forever.”

Cisney smiled at Nancy and Nick as children. “Tell me who everyone is and the stories behind the photos.”

Nancy obliged.

They reached Nick's college and Nancy's high school years when a light knock sounded on the dwarfed door.

“Come in,” Cisney called.

Nick opened the door. He braced his arm against the jamb and stooped. He'd changed into jeans and a plaid shirt. “What are you two up to?”

“Showing pictures of you in diapers and zits,” Nancy said. “And, of course, telling Cisney embarrassing stories about you.” She rose, gathered the wrapping materials, and sailed toward Nick, clearing the ceiling by a full inch at the door. “I hear Mom calling me.” She ducked under his arm and descended the stairs.

“Do you see what I have to put up with because your charm has mesmerized my family?”

What'd he want her to do? Spit in their eyes? “Come here. I want to show you the two pictures I like best.”

“If I'm sitting on a potty chair, I'll stay right here.”

“No.” She patted the seat of the other chair. “Come on over and sit.”

He lowered his head and joined her.

She planted an album in his lap and his laughter made her giggle. “They are cute, aren't they?” She pointed to the picture of Nancy and Allison arm in arm when they were ten.

“I'm laughing because you have marked pages with sticky notes. Do you own stock in the company?”

“No. But stickies are the best invention ever, don't you think?”

Nick wagged his head. He crossed his foot over his knee and repositioned the album. “So, which photos have you tagged to embarrass me?”

If she'd wanted to embarrass him, she would have pulled out her phone and snapped photos of him embracing Dana. She turned to the first yellow sticky and touched a picture of Grandpa, Roger, eleven-year-old Nick, and six-year-old Tony sitting in that order on the LeCrone pier, their backs to the camera and the ends of their fishing poles sprouting from their heads.

“Those were the days,” he said. His reminiscing smile tugged at her heart.

Who was she falling for, the boy in the photo or the man he'd become? But falling, she was. Wouldn't that please Daddy. She'd chalk it up to a weekend crush.

She tapped the photo. “When this picture was taken, had you already dreamed of being an actuary like your Dad and Grandpa?”

“I think at this time I was going through my stage where I wanted to raise Siberian huskies in Alaska and win the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.”

She chuckled and ran her fingers over the photo. “This should be enlarged and hung somewhere.”

“Which was the other one you liked?”

She flipped a few pages to the second yellow sticky. Approximately the same ages as in the first photo, Nick and Tony bent over a tangled fishing line, their heads almost touching in a close-up shot. Nick's focus was on the knot, deep creases between his eyebrows, while Tony's wide-eyed gaze was directed at a small lizard on Nick's T-shirt, his forefinger poised to touch the reptile.

“I remember it took me an hour to untangle that mess, and then Tony snarled it again within minutes.”

“Did Tony touch the lizard before it bolted?”

“That, I don't remember.”

He slipped tickets from his shirt pocket. “I have tickets for a local musical tonight.”

Of course, he'd see more of Dana. Cisney's spirits wilted—no, bombed—but she quickly slapped her I'm-not-hurt smile on her face. “No problem. The Amish book I'm reading is very engaging. And Roger and Grandpa said there'd be a Chinese checkers game tonight.”

“What?”

“Like I said, I can entertain myself.”

“You don't like musicals?”

“They're my favorite.” She could belt out Oh-klahoma with the best of them.

“Then why won't you go with me?”

“You're asking me?”

Maybe his luncheon with Dana hadn't gone well. Maybe he'd changed clothes as soon as he got home because Dana had dumped linguine carbonara on his head.

He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Who'd you think I was asking?”

Nick LeCrone had asked her on a date, not to a chess match at the local library, but to the theatre for singing and dancing.

“I'd love to go!”

“Don't get too excited. The writer, choreographer, and actors are locals, but I've seen their work before and it's entertaining and well done. It's called
A Way with Waltz
.”

“Thank you.” She swallowed down emotion, jumped up from her chair, and moved to the bed. With two hands, she lifted a small box wrapped in blue paper covered with stars. “This is for you. Ignore the happy birthday words. It's all Nancy could find, other than the paper for your mother's gift.” She moved closer. “A small gift in appreciation for all you have done for me since I fell apart over Jason while you were in my office. The Lord guided you well, and I'm thankful.” She handed the box to him and returned to her chair.

“You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes, I did. Open it.”

He eased his finger under the tape on one side. If he unwrapped presents like he thought about her marketing proposals, they'd miss the show. He picked at the tape from the other side.

She glanced at his face. A smug smile deepened his dimple. He slowly slid his finger under the center tape.

“Nick LeCrone. You're doing that on purpose.”

He chuckled.

She lifted her face toward his and crossed her eyes. “Open it.”

He gently pushed her face away. “OK. OK.” He ripped the paper, shook the box, and removed the lid. “No way.” His chuckle grew into laughter.

“I noticed your desk at work lacked one.”

He lifted a mahogany sticky note holder, complete with a fresh pad of yellow stickies. “I will definitely think of you every time I look at it.”

“I know you believe I'm self-centered for getting you something I like, but I'm not, because I already have one.”

“You do? I've never seen it.”

“Yes, I do. It's exactly like yours.”

“Yours must be buried under a few hundred papers.”

“I'm more organized than you think, because I know which hundred my sticky holder is under.”

He held up the gift. “Well, thank you.” He chuckled again. “Shall we go down for turkey sandwiches?”

 

****

 

Nick glanced across the kitchen island, where Cisney built her sandwich on make-your-own-turkey-sandwich night. She stood between Dad and Grandma Thelma and looked radiant.

If he'd known taking her to the theatre would help her forget Jason, he'd have asked her to the famous one in Richmond the night Jason dumped her. Then she might have gone on the ski trip with her friends and saved him from his family matchmakers. And from the way Nancy scooted out of Cisney's room, skiing would have rescued Cisney from them, too.

Grandpa added a pickle wedge to his plate. “So is everyone ready for the big Chinese checkers game tonight?”

Nick dropped more turkey slices on his stack and peppered them. “Today, someone gave me two tickets to a musical at The Warehouse. I thought I'd show Cisney what our locals in Cornelius can do in the performing arts.”

He cut his sandwich in half. No one responded. He looked up to six pairs of eyes staring at him. “What? We can join tomorrow night's Chinese checkers game.”

“Someone?” Nancy said, the word dripping with attitude.

His gut sagged. Which family members, besides Nancy, had snooped out the window and had seen him in Dana's car?

Now, wait just a minute. Where, or why, he went with Dana was none of their business. Neither were the tickets Dana had given him. The luncheon with Mark and Dana at The Palm was a mere formality. They wanted him. And he wanted the challenge they offered. Whether his family liked it or not, he might just take the job where Dana worked.

“Yeah, someone,” he said. “What's the big deal? Someone I had business with today couldn't use the tickets and asked if I wanted them. I thought it would be nice to show Cisney something of the Lake Norman communities.”

All went back to loading their plates, except Cisney. She held his gaze. Did she know about Dana? Was that why she acted strangely in her room about the tickets? She thought he was going out with Dana?

 

 

 

 

10

 

Cisney retrieved her red dress from the closet and slipped into its silky folds. She stood away from the slanted ceiling and spun around before the mirror on the closet door, even though it cut off her head. Her skirt billowed, and then settled around her legs. She smiled. Wearing her favorite dress always lifted her spirits.

The marimba played. Her muscles tightened as her gaze went to her phone on the bedside table. Why hadn't she assigned separate ringtones to the people in Favorites and avoided these moments of not knowing who called?
Please, please don't be Daddy. I want to be happy tonight.

She grabbed her cell and looked at the display. Jason? Her heart outraced the marimba beat, as she paced and stared at his name. Should she take his call?

She had two more rings before the call would go to voicemail.
Lord, guide me.

The music stopped.

She halted and let out a long breath. Safe. For a while.

What did Jason want? Had he forgotten the combination to his ski lock? Start at two. Left to ten. Right to thirteen. Or was he bored on the beginner slopes with his new little lady? Or maybe he felt guilty for leaving her stranded for Thanksgiving. Could he want her back?

She dropped to her knees and rested her elbows on the bed, interlocking her fingers under her chin. “Father, you are the God of comfort. Thank you for consoling me through Nick and his loving family. Lord, would you now please ban thoughts of Jason for the next few hours?”

Her heart calmed. She rose, grabbed her black clutch purse, and scooted down the first flight of stairs. She paused on the landing and took the second flight at a pace worthy of royalty.

Dressed in his dark suit, Nick stood at the bottom of the stairs like a handsome prince waiting for his tower princess. She smiled at him.

His upturned lips looked…pained. He didn't like her red dress?

After she descended a few more steps, lights flashed in quick succession, startling her. Blinded, she gripped the handrail and made it to the bottom step, where her sight recovered and she took in the smiles radiating from Nick's family. She hadn't felt like this since prom night.

“You look stunning.” Ellie took her hand and positioned her close to Nick.

So, he'd inherited the hand-pulling habit from his mom.

“Come on,” Nancy said, extending her camera. “Can't you put your arm around her, Nick?”

Nick narrowed his eyes at his sister.

Digital cameras fired off lightning-bright explosions.

“Nick, honey, you could put your arm around Cisney for the next photo,” Grandma Thelma said, her camera at the ready.

Nick grabbed Cisney's hand and whisked her out the door. Flashes followed them. He opened the passenger door for her, and then jogged to the driver's side, holding his hand out to ward off flashes. “Paparazzi!”

“Have fun, honey!”

“Enjoy the musical!”

“Be home before curfew!” Nancy said.

Laughing, Cisney waved until the family was out of sight. “You have the greatest family.”

He kept his eyes trained on the road.

“Why so aggravated, Nick?”

He glanced at her. “Don't you feel the pressure?”

“No. I feel the love.”

He wrenched his tie loose. “I need my family to sign a privacy agreement.”

Her princess dream fizzled. “We don't have to go, Nick.”

He stared forward, and then turned to her, his face softening. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil your evening.”

“I don't want to go, if your evening won't recover.”

If she wanted a depressing night, she could have stayed in her room and gnawed her newly painted fingernails over why Jason had called.

 

****

 

Every time Nick forced his attention to the dancers on stage, his gaze drifted back to Cisney. She looked beautiful in that red dress. A miniature Nancy sat on his shoulder and nagged him.
If you think she's beautiful, tell her.
Reason sat on his other shoulder. Guess who he trusted more. Sorry, Nancy.