chapter twenty-three
Malcolm looked at the sample Callie had made, then at the six acrylic tumblers on the table in front of them. The project was simple enough—use different colors of nail polish to put dots on the clear material to make the glasses more festive. Easy enough, he thought, reminding himself he had an MBA. There was no way he should be intimidated by a simple craft project.
“Just start,” Callie said, her voice filled with humor. “Otherwise, you’ll psych yourself out.”
“I’m fine,” he told her, then opened the first bottle. He dabbed polish on a piece of white paper, realized there was too much polish, then scraped the brush against the side of the bottle and tried again. When he had figured out how much polish he needed on the brush, he lined up the glasses and applied eight dots of Aphrodite’s Pink Nightie to each glass.
“Who comes up with these color names?” he asked.
“It’s OPI. They’re known for great polish and fun names.” She pointed to the half dozen bottles on the kitchen table. “Those are from the classics collection.”
“If you say so.”
They’d taken over the kitchen and given Keira orders not to even think about peeking. While he decorated glasses, Callie was putting together photographs into a collage in the shape of 13. The finished project would be big enough to hang on the wall.
Callie and Delaney had handled all the details of the party, invitations had been sent out and five girls had accepted. Malcolm didn’t know if that was a good number or not, but both Callie and Keira were pleased, so he was going to assume all was well.
He finished the first color and picked up the next bottle. Chick Flick Cherry. Obviously fashion wasn’t his thing.
“You’re looking fierce,” Callie said.
“I don’t want to mess up.” He carefully applied eight dots to each of the glasses. “And I’m intense, not fierce.”
“If you say so.”
“There’s a difference.”
She laughed. “So you seem determined to have me realize.”
“Fierce can be scary. Intense is more positive.”
“You sound like a self-help book.”
“I’m sure we both need to read more of them.”
He spoke without thinking then braced himself for some kind of backlash. When there was only silence, he glanced over at Callie and found her studying him.
“I get you thinking I need help, but you’re willing to admit it for yourself?”
He reached for the next bottle. “Do You Lilac It? That’s cute, and yes, I could probably use a lifetime of therapy. It’s not going to happen, but I’m trying to do better. Reach out to the people I care about, pay more attention to Keira. Not assume that people who come to me with interesting ideas don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“If that last one is about me, don’t sweat it. It was just an idea and you’re running a huge company. I should have done some research first. It’s not the idea that changes the world, it’s the execution.”
He motioned to all the party supplies filling the counters. “You are creative and you have a vision. I’m the one putting nail polish dots on glasses.”
“If you do a good job, I’m going to let you glue fake gemstones onto plastic flatware. If you can handle that small task, then and only then will you be allowed to glue the ornaments on the little jewelry boxes that will serve as the goody bags.”
“If only that could be true.”
She grinned. “Goals are important.”
He liked this, he thought. Just hanging out with Callie. She was funny and smart and as he’d said—she was highly creative.
“At the risk of having you take away the flatware reward, do you ever think about going to college?”
She glued the last picture on the collage, then stepped back to study the effect.
“Sometimes. I was able to take a couple of classes toward my AA while I was incarcerated. I’d always hoped to keep going with my degree, but my short-term goal was to save enough money to buy a condo.”
“You didn’t like renting?”
She sprayed some kind of clear coat onto the collage, then capped the can. “When you get an apartment, there’s an application. One of the boxes you have to check is whether or not you’re a felon. Imagine how many people want you in their building after you check yes. I found rooms to rent. The applications were simpler and when I said I paid in cash, I was usually given a chance.”
He kept his attention on the task at hand, not sure what to say. In the back of his mind, he thought he’d read something about how hard it was for felons to return to regular life, but until he’d met Callie, he hadn’t thought about it.
“Is Washington State easier for you than Texas?” he asked.
“It’s less restrictive. There are still things I can’t do, but none of them affect me personally.”
He glanced at her. “You own a third of this house, Callie. You don’t have to worry about paying rent. If you want to work, go ahead, but if you want to think about going back to college, you should. I’d be happy to help you with the application. Oh, and tuition qualifies as an expense you can pull out of the trust, so you wouldn’t have to work to pay for it.”
She walked over to the stack of bags by the entrance to the kitchen and grabbed two of them, along with a small wooden crate about two feet square.
“I still have trouble believing any of what you’re saying. Not because you’re saying it,” she added quickly. “I mean the part about having money and a home. It’s new to me.”
“I know, but it’s all true. You’re family.” A word he was becoming more comfortable with, he thought. “I wish I could have met your mom.”
“Me, too. If she were still alive...” Her voice trailed off. “I would have liked her to know I wasn’t still screwed up.”
“You were never screwed up. You made a mistake. There’s a big difference.”
She set a half dozen stuffed dogs on the counter. They were cute and fluffy and made absolutely no sense.
“I thought the theme was jewelry,” he said. “Where do the stuffed dogs fit in?”
“They don’t. They’re going to be a surprise parting gift. They’ll be in the crate by the door when the girls leave. I’ll make a sign that says ‘Adopt a dog.’”
“Nice.”
“I hope Keira thinks so.”
He capped the last bottle of polish. “I’m done with these. Have I earned my way into gluing?”
“You have.”
They both moved to the other side of the large kitchen table. Callie had already set out the plastic forks, knives and spoons, along with a glue gun and bowls filled with plastic gemstones.
She pointed to the pile of plastic flatware. “Start at the bottom. Blue, yellow, pink, clear. Don’t burn yourself. Glue burns hurt.”
“Don’t all burns hurt?”
She slapped his arm. “You can be so annoying.”
“No way. You adore me.”
“Maybe. A little. On a good day.”
An unexpected warmth seemed to fill his chest. It took him a second to realize it was affection for the blue-eyed blonde who was his sister. Somehow he’d gone from dislike to ambivalence to something a more self-actualized man might be willing to admit was very close to love.
Damn—how had that happened?
Without considering there might be consequences, he pulled Callie close to him. For a second, she resisted his embrace. Her arms hung stiffly at her side. Then she relaxed a little and hugged him back.
They stayed like that for two, maybe three seconds before pulling apart. Malcolm felt foolish and uncomfortable, which kind of matched his sister’s expression.
“Awkward,” she murmured.
“But nice.”
She glanced at him. Her mouth turned up in a smile. “Yes, nice.”
“We’ll keep practicing until we get it right.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me, too.”
* * *
Delaney arrived at The Grill a few minutes before her lunch date. She started to give her name to the hostess only to spot Chelsea waving at her from a table in the back.
“I got here early,” Chelsea said with a laugh as they greeted each other. “Thanks for meeting me. It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other.”
“I know. Time is slipping by.”
Delaney took a seat across from her friend. When Chelsea had texted her a couple of days ago, she’d actually hesitated before agreeing to the lunch. She was still fighting a sense of unease—not with anything in particular, but maybe with everything. But now, as she started to relax, she wondered if staying isolated was only exacerbating the problem.
Chelsea leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I say let’s be wild and have a glass of wine with lunch.”
“I think that’s an excellent plan. How did you get the day free?”
“Isaacs’s cousins are visiting. The ones that live in Virginia.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s so sad how much they wanted kids, but she can’t have them or something and adopting is a nightmare because of his cancer. Anyway, they want to be with our kids 24/7 and hey, I’m not going to say no. We’ve always talked about sending them back East for a few weeks in the summer. We’re seriously considering it with the two older ones. We’ll see. This visit is a trial run.”