Coming Unglued Read online

  Kendra kept her head down but raised her eyes to meet Tandy’s hard gaze. “Okay, it’s something. But I ain’t about to blab my business all over town.” She took in the full diner and turned back to Tandy. “So how about we continue this conversation later tonight? When you can also explain why you’re in here taking orders instead of down the street working in our office.”

  Tandy pointed a finger at Kendra, then stood up. “Now we’re talking. One burger, cooked by Stars Hill’s greatest grill man, coming right up.” Tandy sashayed toward the back and hollered, “Clay! Kendra’s hungry!”

  Kendra shook her mahogany, spiral curls and heaved a sigh. Her reprieve was up. Tandy should have caught on before now, given that Kendra’s world had been haywire for months. With the two-month lull, of course. But then Tandy was in the middle of planning a wedding worthy of Stars Hill’s finest.

  Kendra twirled a curl around her finger and gazed out the window. Across the street Zelda and Daddy walked beneath a streetlight, arm in arm, heads bent low. Kendra tried to ignore the twinge in her heart, but after nearly eleven years without Momma, it really was time for Daddy to show interest in another woman. Hadn’t she told Tandy that very thing? To let Daddy be a man, not just her daddy?

  “Might want to take some of your own advice there,” she mumbled and pushed the menu aside.

  “Talking to yourself again?” Darin slid back into his seat, putting a Diet Dr. Pepper in front of her and swigging his own Mountain Dew.

  “It’s the only way I know I’ll get an intelligent response.”

  “Hey, I think I do pretty well for you.”

  “Pretty well and sure thing aren’t the same, though, are they?” Rein it in, girl. That came out a little harsh.

  “I guess not.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Though I think another four months might put me in the sure thing category.”

  She looked at their joined hands, his tanned from the summer sun and hers a few shades darker. It made for a beautiful blend of color, one that would be easy to create with oils. She cocked her head and viewed the tableau.

  He squeezed her hand. “I think I’ve lost you to the art world again.”

  She looked up and smiled. “Occupational hazard.”

  “So I’m learning. Do you always see the world through an artist’s eyes?”

  She shrugged. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s hard not to. I mean, look around.” She gazed out over the booths populated by Stars Hill citizenry dressed in every color of the rainbow. “See how Emma’s red dress pulls your eye over to her corner of the room? And how that makes you notice the orange stripes in Emmy’s jumper? Look at how those colors animate them, sitting beside that picture of a lime-green Granny Smith.”

  “Hmm, can’t say I even noticed that until now.”

  “Textures are just as cool.” She shifted in her seat, warming to the topic. “Look over there at the rice on Gina’s plate, with its rounded edges and steam. It’s perfect next to that golden piece of chicken, which mirrors the rounded edges but has a shape all its own.” She pursed her lips. “But it could have been put on a better plate.”

  Darin laughed and leaned over the table. “Kendra Sinclair, you are one amazing woman.”

  She pulled her hand away and began fiddling with the straw paper. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “Stop fishing for compliments.”

  “I’m not! I don’t think I’m much better than anybody else in here.” She slumped, looking out across the tables of happy people. “Probably worse than a lot of them.”

  He sat up straight. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No, I’m not.” Exhaustion and misery tempered her tone. “How many of them spent years in foster care? How many of them had parents who cared so little they gave up rights to their own offspring?” Shut up already. Nobody likes a sob story. A big gulp of Diet Dr. Pepper washed the rest of her words back down her throat.

  “Is this what’s been bugging you lately? That you were adopted?” He reached for her hand again, but she put it in her lap.

  “Yes. No.” She sighed. “Not really.”

  “Then what? Because you haven’t been acting like the confident, sassy woman I met four months ago.”

  “Thanks, those are words every woman wants to hear.”

  “I thought women valued honesty.”

  “About everybody else, sure. Even about yourself, fine. But about us, personally? No. Feel free to tell me I look skinny in everything I ever put on and that my makeup is perfect and my hair is flawless. I promise to believe you.”

  “Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger at her. “You’re not ducking this conversation with a joke. Why are you worried about your childhood all of a sudden?”

  “I’m not. I told you, not really.”

  “Which isn’t the same as no. And I seem to recall a yes thrown in there as well.”

  She slumped. “It’s the low blood sugar. I’m hungry, and I think Tandy must have distracted Clay because it’s been forever since she went back there.”

  “Nice try, but no go. You want to table this conversation for later? Fine. I’m free all night.”

  “Can’t. I’m meeting Tandy.”

  “Okay, then right now is good for me, too.” He sat back in the booth and crossed his arms.

  Big, thick arms that were made for hugs and end in those long fingers.

  “Kendra? Come on, honey, out with it. I think it’s about time we did the whole childhood talk anyway.”

  And run you off? I don’t think so.

  Tandy appeared in the corner of her eye, and Kendra took in a grateful breath. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now—” she nodded toward her sister who approached the table with two plates piled high with cheeseburgers and fries—“I think we’re going to eat.” Saved by a burger.

  Darin turned in his seat, then looked back at her. “Fine with me. I’ve always loved a nice walk after a big dinner, and the park is only a block away.”

  Tandy’s arrival saved Kendra from replying. “Two burgers, medium well, with enough fries to make anyone think twice about a bathing suit.” She sat the plates on the table. “Knock yourselves out.”

  “You know, it’s probably bad for business to remind folks what this food does to the waistline.”

  Tandy winked and turned away. “Good thing it’s not my business.” With that, she headed back to the kitchen.

  “She makes a good point.” Kendra reached for the salt and latched on to any conversation topic that would keep them away from the previous issue. “What is she doing over here slinging burgers?”

  “My guess is she’s helping her future husband with the dinner rush.”

  “Hmm.” She chomped down on a fry. “I guess. But Sisters, Ink is still a new business, and we need to be working on it more than we are.”

  “It’s seven o’clock at night, Kendra. I think the business will still be there in the morning.”

  “Yeah, but it’d be a better business if one of us was still there tonight.” Which made one wonder why she hadn’t just gone to their new offices to work instead of telling Darin she’d go out for this impromptu dinner.

  “Well, I for one am glad you decided to have dinner with me rather than slaving over a computer the rest of the night.”

  “Get outta my head.” The man always seemed to be reading her thoughts.

  He grinned and swiped a French fry through ketchup. “I kinda like it in there. Gives me a whole new perspective on the world. Take this French fry, for instance.” He held the fry aloft and cocked his head. “See how the red of the ketchup contrasts with the pale of the potato?”

  She balled up her napkin and threw it at him, laughing. “Oh, hush your mouth.”

  He put the fry in his mouth and looked her in the eye. “That’s better. Your smile is too beautiful to hide for long.”

  Her smile. It always got her into trouble. From before she even knew the power it possessed, this smile of hers was always leading
the way down a dark corridor. And she tripped along after it every time, even when she’d learned her steps could only lead to disaster.

  Just like they’d done six months ago when they led her to Harrison’s table.

  Three

  Daddy!”

  Tandy tripped over Kendra as they fell through the heavy oak door of the farmhouse where they, Joy, and Meg had shared their childhood, “I’m home! And Ken’s with me!” A torrent of rain beat the ground outside, washing clean the barn and fields. “And there’s a good chance we’re gonna need Noah’s ark before the night’s over!”

  The bottom had fallen out of the sky just after Kendra ducked into Tandy’s car from the diner. Thank goodness she’d avoided the walk with Darin. In the park the only shelter was the old caboose, and Kendra knew what happened to girls who ducked into the caboose with a boy.

  Tandy and Kendra walked toward the back stairs, shaking their hands and hair. Water droplets left little dark spots on the worn hardwood. Cooper came barreling down the stairs, woofing, his big basset paws sliding on the hardwood.

  “Hey, Cooper.” Tandy knelt and kissed the basset bump on the top of his head. “Did you hold the fort down while Momma was gone?”

  Cooper woofed again and wagged his tail. He turned a soulful gaze to Kendra.

  “Oh, no, mister. Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes. I’ve got no treats for the likes of you.”

  Tandy rose and walked on into the living room. Kendra followed.

  They saw the note propped on the mantel at the same time.

  “I’ve got it.” Tandy went over and plucked the note from its place. “‘Tandy,’” she read aloud, “‘Zelda and I are catching a late dinner. Be home later. Call if you need me. Love, Daddy.’”

  “He sure is spending a lot of time with her.” Kendra walked around the sofa and dropped into it, holding out her arms to take stock of the rain’s effect on her clothes. They didn’t seem to be much worse for the wear.

  Tandy pushed back her precipitation-soaked waves of red hair and crumpled into Momma’s old recliner. “I know. I don’t want to say anything, but I think he’s getting serious about her.” Cooper settled at her feet and rested his big head on his front paws.

  “Serious how?” Kendra pulled her feet up under her on the sofa and snuggled in. She began to remove her clunky bracelets, wiping each one dry on the hem of her shirt.

  “Serious enough to see her nearly every night.”

  She stopped wiping. “What? Why haven’t you said something before now?”

  “What am I going to say?”

  “I don’t know. How about, ‘Girls, I think Daddy’s getting serious about Zelda. Do we want to do anything about that?’”

  “It’s not our place to do anything about it, Ken.”

  Kendra harrumphed and resumed the removal of her bangles. “You sound like Meg.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

  “I know you didn’t. But Meg’s sounding an awful lot like Momma these days, so I’m going to take it as a good thing.”

  “I think it’s having three kids at home. She’s got the Momma voice down pat.”

  “Speaking of which, have you talked to Joy lately?” Tandy pulled a lever on the side of the chair to release the footstool just as a boom of thunder sounded outside. Glass rattled in the old windowpanes.

  “How is that a ‘speaking of which’?”

  Tandy shrugged. “We’re talking about kids. Joy and Scott are trying to get pregnant. It’s a speaking of which.”

  “That’s a stretch.”

  “I like to make sure I’m pushing myself every now and then. Have you talked to her?”

  “Not really. Saw her last week at the salon, but we haven’t talked since.”

  “Speaking of which, what’s up with you?”

  “No way is that a ‘speaking of which.’”

  “You haven’t talked to a sister in a week. Meg told me this morning she hasn’t heard from you in over a week. You’re avoiding us. Speaking of which …” Tandy tapped her fingers on the armrest as rain left wavy sheets on the windows.

  Kendra pulled in a deep breath. “Okay, it’s a speaking of which.”

  “Thank you, now tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather talk wedding plans? How are the dresses coming?”

  “The dresses can wait. Come on, Ken, we don’t hide things. I know something’s up with you, and it’s freaking me out that you won’t tell me what, so spill.”

  “Maybe I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  “So there is an ‘it,’ right?”

  “Yeah, there’s an ‘it.’”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “Actually, that’s it.”

  “Very funny. Is it anything I can help with?”

  Kendra fiddled with her bracelets while God performed a lightning show on the other side of the panes. She could sic Tandy on Harrison; he’d never know what hit him. But then if she let Tandy know about Harrison, there was no coming back. It was one of those decisions in life that only offered the ability to continue down the path, not retrace your steps and figure out another direction.

  “No, I don’t think you can help.”

  “Are you going to get hurt? Because if it will hurt you, then you should know that I’m against it.”

  Kendra studied the wave patterns on the windows. “Remember when we drove up to Gatlinburg that summer in high school?”

  “Before my freshman year? Yeah, I remember. You got mad because I kept having to stop to use the bathroom.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t been drinking a giant lemonade, then we would have gotten to the campsite a whole lot faster.”

  “Ah, but the journey wouldn’t have been quite as sweet.”

  “Touché.”

  “Why’d you mention it?”

  “Remember the indoor skydiving place?”

  “How could I forget? I was so scared I just about peed in my pants when we got in that crazy cylinder and fell forward to a rotating propeller where the only thing separating us from its whirring blades was a crisscrossed mesh of wire. We must have been out of our minds.”

  “Ah, but remember the freedom once all that wind from the propeller had pushed you in the air?” Kendra began putting her dried bracelets back on.

  “Yeah.” Tandy’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “It was like magic, being weightless and floating like that, able to direct my movement with a simple lifting of the arm.”

  “It was magical, wasn’t it? Worth the scared part?”

  “Yeah, definitely worth the scared part.”

  “And later, when you turned your arm too high, fell against the side of the cylinder, and sprained your ankle, was it worth that, too?”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Kendra nodded and considered the lessening rain. “Sometimes you have to take the pain to have the experience.”

  “Unless you can get the experience without the pain.”

  “I can’t. Just as surely as the ground outside wouldn’t be wet unless the clouds opened up.”

  “Are you sure the experience is worth the pain?”

  “If I could figure that out, I’d know which direction to go.”

  “Then tell me the experience, and I’ll tell you what it’s worth.”

  “Sorry, sis, no can do. This is one I’ve got to figure out on my own. At least for now.”

  Silence fell on them like a quilt fresh from the washing machine, its wet heaviness a small price to pay for the clean scent.

  The clock on the mantel—selected by Kendra for Momma and Daddy’s fifteenth wedding anniversary and paid for only after all the sisters had pooled their allowances and raked leaves for several neighbors—ticked as regularly as stitching. Kendra took the sound into her being, waiting until the rhythm of her heart matched the rhythm of time. The two steady beats were off by a hairsbreadth, just enough to cause a
lengthening difference.

  Maybe I should try joining the pattern of the rain instead. I’m a walking storm.

  “Hey, Ken?”

  “Yeah, T?”

  “If it makes you look so sad, are you sure you shouldn’t run the other way?”

  Four

  A tinkling bell sounded as Kendra walked through the back door of Sisters, Ink the next morning. Last night’s sleepless hours had etched new lines on her face that the bathroom mirror hadn’t been slow to reveal an hour ago. The best escape was work, so Kendra threw on some makeup and made her way down to Lindell Street.

  If I keep this up, my face can double as elephant skin in another couple of months.

  It was early, barely seven, too early for any of the sisters to be up and in the office. Besides, Meg and Joy didn’t spend nearly as many hours here as Tandy and she. They’d said from the beginning that they wanted to be partners, just not as active as Tandy and her in the business. Which worked out perfectly.

  Kendra dropped her turquoise leather satchel on the hardwood floor by her desk, its beading and tassels making a pleasing plop. Hands on hips, Kendra turned around the room and took stock of their little operation.

  Morning light poured through the front window and bounced off every available surface, suffusing the room with its cheerful illumination. The office was coming along nicely. Four months into starting Sisters, Ink, a company committed to networking scrapbookers at the local level, they had roughly a thousand members and growing. The freshly painted pale yellow walls served as proof of the profit they’d sunk back into the business. It hadn’t been a huge investment, and Joy’d been right about the effect of the bright color on their work ethic and product. Working in a bright room made for a much nicer, easier day.

  They’d made smart use of the small space leased from the next door tenant, Emmy of Emmy’s Attic. It wasn’t big, about a thousand square feet, but it housed her desk and Tandy’s with enough space left over in the back for shipping supplies and some merchandise bearing the Sisters, Ink logo.