In Her Way (4 page)

"Eeeeeeeeee. Yeeeeeeee." I'm seriously just making unintelligible happy noises as I squeeze him.

Now, I do feel I need to make a distinction here. I know I made it seem like men-scents are hard to describe, but that was definitely leaving out the way my father and my brothers smell. Those smells I know for sure as sure. As I hold tight, I breathe in Joel's distinct mixture of laundry detergent (he loves clean clothes almost as much as I do) and the expensive D&G cologne he's insisted on wearing ever since he turned sixteen and had his own job/ money to purchase it.

"Ooh! Back down Mintaconda," he says, using the name he coined when I was four because of my intense and semi-painful tendency to hug-crush.

I press my lips together as I let go and back up, but I can't keep the smile from my eyes as I look up into my brother's familiar face. He shares my same blue eyes and long lashes, but I love his much-sharper-than-mine nose and his practically-perfect, but messed-up-just-the-right-amount hair.

He holds onto my shoulders and tips his chin up. "Let me get a look at you. I think it's been a full month since I saw you last."

Now Joel lived with me for almost sixteen years and he's super well aware of my narcissistic tendencies, so I give him a full twirl, hair flip, and eye bat.

"Yep." He nods. "Still the cutest ham I know." He wraps his arm around my shoulders and we head inside.

"Hey girls," I say in a loud, I-have-an-announcement voice. "This is my brother."

I hear something crash in the back, followed by running footsteps, and then Em barges into the room, fixing her hair and throwing on a smile. I roll my eyes at her.

"Oh, hey there, Joel." She leans on the counter and throws back her shoulders.

"Emma!" He walks forward and encloses her in a long-armed Joel hug. Some of her is obstructed because my brother is now in the way, but I can see enough to catch the dreamy swoon in her eyes. Her arms fold around his back carefully and pat around, like she can't believe it's true.

"Joel, this is our new secretary, Kaylee." I motion to the girl sitting behind the counter when he lets Em go (or more like peels her off him).

He reaches his arm across the counter for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Kaylee. Thanks for filling in so quickly. I know that really helped out Jules and Em."

Kaylee's eyes are wide and her mouth is open slightly. After she lets go of his hand, she nods and says, "Always."

Joel smiles that ridiculously big smile of his and laughs, reaching back to rub the back of his neck. I know that means he's uncomfortable. Even though he's all grown up and handsome, to me he still seems like the shy kid that held onto our mama’s hand and smooshed his face into her side every time we went somewhere new.

I grab his hand and pull him toward the back to save him. We meet Neve and Sarah on the way as they've heard the commotion up front. After I introduce him to the girls, I give him a tour of the place.

"Mints, this is amazing." He pulls me into another big hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks." I scrunch up and smile once he lets me go. "Hey, so I have just a little longer here and then I can hang. Why don't you go to my place and get comfy. I'll meet you there when we're cleaned up."

"Sounds great!"

I grab my keys from my purse, pull off the house key, and throw it to him. Just watching him walk away, knowing he's here for the weekend, stains my face with a smile I can't get rid of throughout my remaining time at work. Even through the getting ready stuff, even when Em and the girls gush about Joel, even when I'm on my way back home, driving probably-too-fast in my little white car down residential streets.

When I pull up to my little yellow house with white trim and a solid mix of unfortunate or overgrown plants in the front yard, I sigh seeing Joel's black BMW parked in my driveway. The door's open and I find him sprawled out on the couch, his long legs kicked up on my coffee table. (My brothers are all very tall and horrible about taking up as much space as is humanly possible wherever they are. Actually, I'm surprised I grew at all as a child, seeing as how I was most likely crouched in what little corner space remained.) He's reading a chick lit book I must've left out. His eyebrows are hitched up and his lips are pressed forward into I'm-impressed duck lips. (Hmm... I wonder where I got my duck lip tendencies from?)

"Good stuff?"

"Surprisingly. Being inside a woman's brain isn't nearly as scary as you make it seem."

I fake laugh, pull off my shoes, and plop down next to him on the couch, kicking his lanky limbs out of my way (oh, yeah, that's how I survived growing up). He throws his arm around my shoulders and I sink into his chest.

"Whatcha wanna do?" he asks, stretching out even longer than he was before, just in a different direction.

I sit up and shake my head. "Oh, no you don't. Uh uh." My eyes lock onto his. "First you have to tell me why you're here."

He lets his head fall back into the couch cushion.

"Yeah. Don't think my happiness about seeing you made me forget the fact that you have running-away-from-shit written all over you, sir." I poke him in the chest.

"It's nothing."

My stare holds. Focused.

"Nothing new, that is," he adds, finally pulling his head up and meeting my gaze. "It's the whole proposing thing. Again."

I fold my legs up and under me and scoot until I'm fully facing him.

He dips his chin and smiles. "Uh oh. I know that position. Mints, I don't need any advice. I just needed some space from him."

"I don't care what you think you need. You're getting my advice."

He shakes his head.

"You two are ridiculous!" I yell.

"Is it really that crazy to want to plan out who is going to propose so we don't both go through the trouble of --"

"Yes!" I cut him off and smack him on the arm. "I see why Nick gets so frustrated with you. That's not romantic at all! You might as well just say, 'Whelp, we're getting married' and call it good if you're going to go to the lengths of discussing who's going to propose."

He rubs his hands over his face. "I know it's not as romantic, but what if we both plan something big? One of us will be disappointed that we didn't get to do our thing."

"No, you won't because you'll be engaged and that will be wonderful! Whoever didn't get to ask will deal with it or probably forget because the two of you will be so happy. Plus, that means you both get to start planning a wedding."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. I'm a business owner starting next week, you know."

Joel pulls me closer, laughs, says he knows, and plants a big kiss on the top of my head.

"Okay, so now what should we do?" he asks.

"Tonight, we're in. Pizza and ice cream with..." I tip my head from side to side, "I'm thinking
Newsies
. We can go out on the town tomorrow. Plus, now that I've given you amazing advice, I basically need you to figure out my life for me before we can do anything else."

"How so?"

It's my turn to let my head fall back into the couch. "Ugh! It's this super-hot Captain America guy. Seriously, could he have shown up at a worse time? Besides the fact that he helped us by finding Kaylee, he's been distracting the heck out of me!"

Joel doesn't waste time asking why I can't date Andrew. He knows about the money I owe, the bills that are starting to pile up in the mail, and what it would mean to me if this all fails.

Instead he nods and says, "Right, the moratorium." Then he sits up straight. "Okay. You call in the pizza. I'm finding that movie. Who knows, maybe the answer to your question will lie in Christian Bale's eyes. Plus, I'm having a sneaking suspicion that it would be pretty awesome to propose while recreating the dance from
Santa Fe
. By the end of this musical, maybe both our problems will be solved, dammit!"

5

When Life Gives you a Lemon

"Andrew
did
say he thought I would change my opinion of Kaylee once she started working." I shrug my shoulders and look over at the passenger seat where Em sits, picking at her nails as we drive into work on Monday.

She widens her eyes. "Have we ever. I don't even mind that I'm having to do most of the computer work. Putting her on the phones was the best idea ever. She's already booked almost our whole first week by calling the patients Sarah's been able to bring with her from Dr. Leroy's practice."

Our little blond-headed Sarah was one of the few hygienists at the old office that left when Dr. Leroy retired, not wanting to work with a big corporation any more than half of his patients wanted to be treated by one. It worked out great since she was able to talk up our place (secretively, of course) and let them know there would soon be another small practice option in the area.

"I talked to no less than three people who raved about Kaylee on the phone when they called back to set up appointments while she was at lunch Saturday," Em continues.

"Thanks, by the way, for letting me bow out and spend time with J." I smile real big over at my friend and business partner, showing her I totally owe her. "I feel super bad about being the only one who didn't come in on Saturday."

Em shakes her head and waves a no-worries hand at me. "Family is family. And Joel rocks. Everyone totally understood. Did he leave this morning?"

I shake my head. "Yesterday. Had a flight to -- fly?" I tip my head, wondering if that's how you would say that.

"And he just came to hang out?"

"Partly. He and Nick had a fight and he needed a little space, but they'll be fine."

"See, it was important that you spent that time with him. This is what I'm saying. You can have relationships AND a business. You can have them both."

Even though I am still not very sure about that, I shrug and say, "Well, thanks just the same. That's good news about Kaylee, too." I pull into our parking lot and after I shut off the car I open my hands and hold them out in front of me. "What we thought was going to be a lemon turns out to be just a pleasant lemony fresh scent."

Em laughs and we go unlock the office to get ready for the list of things we have only one week left to take care of. We sigh as we look around at a mostly ready office. I go into the back and lose myself in learning the ins and outs of the particular brand of dental chairs we had installed last week while Em calls our bank to confirm Kaylee's been added to our payroll.

About an hour later, Sarah shows up, followed a few minutes later by Neve. Both of them look exhausted and I wonder if that's what Em and I look like (or possibly worse).

"Don't worry. After this all settles down, we won't be working as many hours. I promise." Em has me worried that I'm coming off super controlling, so I give them my best boss smile and act as go-with-the-flow as I can. They tell me it's no problem at all before getting to work on the rest of our supplies in the back.

Kaylee shows up last, but still a few minutes before the nine o'clock starting time we gave her. Her light brown hair is braided up and around her head like freaking Heidi. She appears to have no make up on again, yet glows as if baby dolphins spritzed water on her face when she floated out of bed this morning.

But that's nothing compared to the next thing that catches my eye. She's using crutches.

Em and I rush forward from our different ends of the office. "Kaylee, what happened?" Our words shoot out at the same time.

She laughs. "Oh, I just hurt my back moving furniture and boxes around in my new apartment." She waves her hand at us, sending her millions of bracelets jingling down her wrist, and starts walking forward like a giant robotic contraption.

I press my lips together and try to keep the controlling part of me from telling her that crutches are usually meant for leg injuries, not back injuries, as she hobbles past us and sits down with a big sigh.

"Can we help you with anything?" Em asks.

Kaylee smiles and presses her hands to her lower back, closing her eyes and grimacing. "No, no. Don't worry yourselves about me. I've got these puppies." She points to her crutches and turns to start her computer.

We shrug our shoulders at each other. Em heads off to her desk while I go into the back to help the other girls. After finishing inventory, we orient ourselves with all of the features of our computer software (only getting red-faced-frustrated three times, which is pretty good if you ask me) and are more than ready for lunch when noon rolls around.

I wipe my forehead as I walk up to the front desk, but my hand doesn't drop down by my side, because what I see has it plastered to my face. I watch what I can only guess has been happening all morning. The wheels of Kaylee's office chair squeak as she rolls herself around the horseshoe-shaped front desk, moving between her computer and the file cabinet. But it's the way she's moving that has my mouth gaping open. The crutches have become ski-pole-esque and she's using them to crawl across the carpet like a crazy preying mantis crab creature, pulling herself and the chair behind.

The ridiculousness of it all is only slightly outdone by the fact that the mere motion of pulling herself around with the crutches is probably putting a ton of pressure on her back muscles. Kaylee looks up and sees me standing there.

"Hey!"

The smile I plaster on my face in response is the fake-est damn thing that's ever touched my skin. I feel slightly mean-girl-from-high-school-ish, but I can't help it. I have to put something there instead of the this-is-ridiculous face that wants to take over.

"Ha -- hey." I keep smiling and point to the door. "I'm gonna get something for lunch. Want anything?"

Kaylee shakes her head and rolls herself unnecessarily over to the counter where she picks up a paper bag. "Brought my own today." She scrunches her forehead. "Wait, do we have a toaster here? I brought bread."

I tip my head to the side. I love bread as much as the next gluten-slut, but just toast for lunch seems odd. I nod. "Yeah, Em brought one in this weekend with the microwave."

She giggles and claps her hands together while my face pulls tight. "Okay. See you in a bit then." I turn, holding onto my composure by a single strand of floss.

I end up in front of Em's desk.

"Please tell me we're going to get something to eat. From the noises my stomach has been making, you'd think I’ve trapped a live Gremlin in there." She pats her mostly-flat-but-she-thinks-it's-too-big belly.

I try to nod. I try to act normal. But I just performed basically a miracle by not commenting on the crutch crawling secretary at the front desk and my face is slowly losing the battle of looking normal.

"What?" Em narrows her eyes.

I press my lips together. "Nothing -- er -- you'll see." A giggle bursts out before my hand can fly up to hold the rest in.

Em's confused, I can tell by the small line her mouth purses into, but I just can't say anything more if I'm going to keep it together, so I motion for her to follow me, keeping my hand firmly in place where it covers my mouth.

"Is anyone else joining us?" she asks as she cranes her neck this way and that, looking for what I'm acting weird about.

I shake my head to show her it's just us, and then I watch her. I can tell when she sees because her head moves forward as if to get a better look, her eyebrows shoot up, and her hand covers her mouth just like mine.

I raise my eyebrows as the door shuts safely behind us and the giggle I stuffed earlier finally gets to come out. "So that's the person you think is going to be good for me, is going to teach me about chilling out? Look at her!"

Em walks forward, only looking at me out of the corner of her eye. "It's a little ridiculous. I'll give you that," she says as I catch up to her and we start down the sidewalk. "But seriously, people really like her. If you want to make money, I think she's the key."

I let out a long breath. "It's hard to believe that's the key to anything, but we do have to be serious about making money. Em, we have to pay Mama and Daddy back earlier than I thought. They’re having some trouble and I'd hate to think I was the cause." I cringe and look at her.

She nods. "Yeah, and I've been opening bills most of the morning. Our budget is going to be tight with Kaylee on our payroll now."

There aren't any answers other than to get our business going and start making some freaking money, so we walk in silence the rest of the way to the sandwich shop.

"Any more calls from Sir Andrew?" Em asks as she sits down next to me with her sandwich. She's been calling him Sir Andrew ever since Kaylee started kicking butt at getting us customers. Says he's our hero.

I shake my head and it's not just the bite of sandwich I just chewed that drops to the bottom of my stomach as I swallow. It's been days since our coffee meeting and although I have plenty on my mind right now, I can't seem to keep Andrew out of the mix. It doesn't matter how many times I remind myself that a relationship is not happening right now, my heart still aches as it clings to the lovely shivery-feeling I get when he stands near me.

Em frowns. "Sorry, sweetie. Like you said, though, maybe this is for the best."

I nod. "Right. I mean, I'll meet tons of cute guys that kinda look like Captain America and that I don't have a conflicting business relationship with once we're all settled in the practice." In lieu of pouting, I focus on my tuna sandwich for a few seconds before Em brings up Kaylee and the crutches again and we start laughing too much to eat any more. Wrapping up the rest of our lunch to go, we head back to the office.

The sun is shining, the air is cool as it sweeps off the water and brushes past us, and I start thinking that I was right to pout. Guys like Andrew don't come around every day. Maybe I should go for it; maybe I should see how I do at juggling (disaster that was my elementary PE juggling unit aside).

As we round the corner, though, there's no room for thoughts of Andrew in my brain because there's a full-on fire truck, lights flashing, parked hurriedly across the whole lot in front of our office. My stomach flips as I drop my sandwich remains in front of me. Em and I suck in breath at the same time, look at each other with wide quivering eyes, and haul ass over to our place.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshit," I can hear Em mumble as we run.

"Pleasebeokay, pleasbeokay," I add. We were only gone for twenty minutes or so. How could everything come crashing down so quickly? My gut twists at the thought that I was just considering not making the business my focus. How dumb am I? This must be the universe's way of reminding me it's not possible.

We skid in through the open front door and my eyes search for signs of fire, death, destruction. There's a lot of movement, that's for sure, but I can't see any flames (which seems like a plus until I smell the burning). The scent of scorched-something lingers in the air, though, and my heart keeps hammering away in my chest as Emma and I move forward. Kaylee's not at the front desk and I can't see Neve or Sarah either.

"Excuse me, we're the owners. What's happened?" Em asks one of the firefighters, placing her hand on his arm to stop him.

He shakes his head.

Holy shit. Someone's died. I fold forward, placing my hands on my knees, ready (but not really ready) to hear the terrible news.

Then I hear laughing. It starts small, but seems to catch as guys walk by. I pull myself up and stand straight as I try to read the situation. The boulder of dread in my stomach loses some of its weight, but remains a wobbly discomfort as I watch these large, professionally trained, men giggle.

The guy Em stopped tries to focus by clearing his throat and rubbing an ungloved hand over his face. "Sorry. There was a small grease fire." He shakes his head again as a new bundle of giggles seem to get stuck in his throat. He points toward our lounge at the back of the building.

Em and I narrow our eyes and mouth, "Grease fire?" at each other before gathering our senses and moving. We push through the seven or eight other members of what probably makes up this tiny town's entire fire department and burst into a smoky back room.

Kaylee sits at the table, crutches propped up next to her, and Neve rubs her back as she whispers something in her ear. Sarah stands over in the corner, talking to the only fireman in the room, one I recognize as the captain who came in to do our inspection last week. Kaylee's eyes are red-rimmed and puffy.

I rush forward and I can feel Em break from me to go talk to the captain.

"Hey! What happened?" I ask as I kneel next to Kaylee and Neve.

Kaylee makes red-eyed eye contact with me, then her forehead and chin simultaneously scrunch up and she starts sobbing into the tissue she's holding.

My eyes move to Neve and I focus on her for an answer. She keeps rubbing Kaylee's back.

"We just had a bit of an accident with the toaster. Everything seems to be fine. We're just a little shook up, is all. Right?" She smiles down at Kaylee like I'm sure she does to her children.

I scan the room for the toaster that Em brought in last weekend. The blue plastic along the sides is a bit melty and now sports dark scorch-y marks that were definitely not there before. Other than that, nothing else seems to look burnt.